#🌊 — water you doing! ❪ crack. ❫

[bones4thecats]

Hello! If request aren't closed yet, could I request Giyuu, Tengen, and Sanemi with an s/o who's the opposite of them in every way? From their breathing technique, to their weapon choice, and personality.

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Giyuu Tomioka, Tengen Uzui, and Sanemi Shinazugawa Name: {Character} a Slayer! S/O who is their polar opposite Requester: Anonymous

A/N: My first ever Demon Slayer piece, I hope this is good for my first one, Anon! This was also very fun, I can actually see these three falling for someone that was kinda opposite from them!

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🌊 Giyuu is a very distant person, so, when you noticed how closed-off and lonely he seemed, you just had to approach him

🌊 You were known for your happy personality and how amazing you were to talk to, since you would offer amazing advice and how you would give everyone the biggest boost of energy just by smiling at them

🌊 When you guys first revealed your relationship to your fellow Hashira, they were surprised for sure, and if their faces weren't enough proof, Sanemi and Obanai's objections definitely told you

🌊 He has water breathing while you have flame breathing, and you got your fun-loving personality from your mentor and best friend Rengoku Kyojuro

🌊 Giyuu loves to listen to you ramble, hearing about your stories of slaying demons to hearing about how you got Genya, Sanemi's brother, to crack a smile on your last mission together

🌊 The Water Hashira adores to watch as you train with Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke, the flames enveloping the four of you as you laugh at their reactions

🌊 Your personalities may clash, but, you guys do work well together when it comes to your jobs, your many kunai getting coated in flames as his swords waters left a burning sensation on the demon you were fighting with

🌊 Shinobu loves teasing him about how you guys are different, but, he just looks over at you talking to Mitsuri and smiles on the inside, you may be polar opposites, but, he loves that about you

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🔊 Uzui is very flamboyant and out there while you are far more reserved and down-to-earth

🔊 He first noticed you as Mitsuri dragged you to a meeting, as the newest Hashira you weren't very familiar with any of them, and they all could sense your nervousness

🔊 This guy definitely tried to woo you at first, giving you small actions of affection by patting you on the back or leaning his body weight on your head to make you stumble

🔊 Uzui teases you for ages until his wives meet you, he may want to marry you, but he always wants to know if his wives get along with you, it's a package deal

🔊 When they give him the thumbs up, you all spend time together, and they're whipped when they see you protect a bunch of children by releasing your breathing style, Breath of Water

🔊 Water muffles sound, so

🔊 Your new relationship baffles everyone, since his normal type, at least to outsiders, is one of the more flamboyant personality carrying people

🔊 But, he likes that you're more quiet, it makes him remember to slow things down and take a rest whenever needed

🔊 Uzui also loves to help you with your whip-sword, which you started learning about with Mitsuri, and watching you swing your waves around to cancel out his breaths makes him laugh

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🍃 Sanemi is an aggressive person by nature, and you were a far kinder person, killing demons gently while he did so painfully and without a care in the world

🍃 When he first met you, Sanemi was definitely put off by how kind you were with the Kamaboko Squad, your job was to kill demons, and you were braiding the hair of a demon

🍃 You and him were on rocky ground at first, due to your clashing personalities, but, once you guys got used to one another, it was funny for the others to watch as you would pat his head when he finished training

🍃 Whenever you guys are on missions with each other, he devotes himself to protecting you

🍃 From sending blasts of wind to send the demon flying away from you as you protected a small group of children who lost their parents from said demon, to even kicking a demon away, he was ready to sacrifice himself to keep you safe

🍃 Sanemi isn't fond of public displays of affection, he has a reputation of being aggressive and hard to approach, and he'd prefer to keep that reputation strong until retirement

🍃 He loves watching you tease Obanai, just watching you be yourself while pissing someone off makes his day for some weird reason

🍃 He and Genya aren't very close, and watching as you try getting them closer despite his protests makes him chuckle on the inside

🍃 And whenever he hears about your progress in training his younger brother with your old sensei, Gyomei Himekima, who taught you Stone Breathing, he pretends to not be listening, despite others knowing he is

[strgrlxox]

𓆞 flame in me 🐚

🌊  ↺ idk why i'm so embarrassed to post this omgg ❞¸

+ ¸ ❞ anywayyy just want abby to eat me out forever 😭 ↺ 🌊

she was relentless.

you’ve already come three times already…and she’s still going. eating you out and fingering you with the precision only a woman who never learned to relax could have. her tongue swirling around your clit, pushing you further against the shower wall until your legs gave out and you could no longer stand for yourself––but she held you up herself so that you wouldn't release from her tight grasp. 

“abs–it’s too much.” you whined before resting your full weight against the cold tile behind you and her arms, giving up on supporting your own body. 

it’s all you can do to slump in her hold and just watch her. how she devours you and the way her movements seemed to get more feverish with every passing second like the taste of you made her turn almost animalistic. 

your mewls and choked whines get louder the longer she continues. the noises you made almost drowned out by the sound of the pelting water. but she ignores you, licking at you faster and finger fucking you harder…and her fingers, fuck, her fingers. you could practically hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest, as you clenched around him. your orgasm takes you over and she helps you ride it out. 

instead of her mouth leaving you, instead of a nicer abby finally taking pity on you and finally showing you some kind of mercy. her tongue flattens against your center, your hand reaching down to tug on her hair––a desperate attempt to pull her away from you.

“abby…please–” your words get caught by a short moan. “i can’t come again…”

she huffed, nails digging into your skin–––pulling back only to admire how puffy and used your clit was, covered in her spit and your own cum. “thought you loved it when i fuck you this, huh?” 

“i do!” you whine, eyes rolling back when her heavy breaths reach your clit.  

“so what’s the problem?” she rolls her eyes at you, causing your pout to deepen. you don’t respond—you can’t, because she licks at you again and it hurts so good it takes the words right out of your mouth. you can barely make out a weak call of her name before your eyes roll back. 

“do you want me to stop?”

tears brim im your eyes at the suggestion. you shake your head rapidly. “no, please don’t.”

“god, you taste so good for me, angel.” her words are barely coherent. “how’d i get so lucky? this perfect pussy all for me…” she boasts, a boyish grin attached to her face. 

she releases for a moment to suck a hickey into your thigh, to burn a reminder of this night in your skin. you moan out with your cracked throat, unable to contain your disarray. 

“how are you so good at that?” you mewl, hands meeting her shoulders for support. “how are you so damn good?”

your legs close around her head in the wake of your impending rapture. it leaves your entire body pulsing and shaking in a way that you cannot control.

“it’s too much, abby.” you’re breaths are heavy but shallow. 

“hey,” she coos, her words a lot more tender than her movements. “you can take it, baby, know you can.”

you nod but you don’t know if you believe her.

“just look so pretty when you cum for me like this, baby.”

[sitkowski]

my sanctuary (you're holy to me) - ( riptide verse foursome )

pairing: noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo x jolly karlsson x nick folio

cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ i don’t suppose just saying “they bang, the end” counts? no? okay. partner sharing, fantasy fulfillment, mentions of voyeurism, body worship, mild bondage, praise kink, finger sucking, dirty talk, anal fingering, spitroasting, barebacking, overstimulation.

word count: 5.4k

author's note: so this is not only for the birthday boy but also a long time coming, as they were always gonna end up here at least once in this verse. i dubbed this the foursome of doom (tm) and i'm hoping it does not disappoint. it all started thinking that noah's got a very specific fantasy for his birthday wish, and nicky says "okay, bet". title comes from "church" by fall out boy. divider by @saradika-graphics

🌊✨ shout out to the besties who've encouraged and loved on this verse for ALMOST FIVE MONTHS! i am kissing y'all on the forehead 🩷

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || riptide verse masterpost

What do you want for your birthday?

Noah hates the question, moreso now that he’s in a comfortable enough place that if he likes something and he wants it, he can just buy it for himself. Nicholas has known him long enough to know the question annoys him. Noah also knows he doesn’t want a conventional answer; he’s not expecting Noah to say he wants something someone would normally give as a gift. He’s supposed to dig deep down, as far as he can, and then dig further. And then he’s supposed to tell Nicholas what he wants.

The thing is, Noah knows what he wants. And Nicholas already knows what he wants. They’re doing this for a reason. He wants Noah to be able to tell him that he wants this, this fantasy of his that he’d never dare to speak about. Be selfish, ask for something that doesn't matter whether or not he can have it. Nicholas just wants him to say it.

Noah sinks down further in the water, closing his eyes. He’s got until Nicholas comes back before he has to say it out loud. The bath is scalding hot and it’s supposed to be soothing, but he’s nervous. And he’s excited. Not that he’s thinking anything is actually going to come from this. It’s just a game, a fantasy. Nicholas swore to him over and over that he could say literally anything and he wouldn’t judge him for it, and all Noah can do is trust him with that.

The door opens and Noah cracks one eye open as Nicholas comes into the bathroom. He sits down on the floor beside the tub, and looks at him expectantly.

“Are you ready to tell me?”

Noah swirls his hands through the water, humming. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to. I already told you that. But if you want to say it, I really wanna hear it.”

Noah could ask Nicholas for the moon and he’d try to find a way to get it for him. He’s already under his skin in every way he could possibly be. He’s already helped him achieve every dream he’s ever had. Him, and Jolly and Nick. Their crew, their little family. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, but maybe he wants a little something else. Something selfish.

“I…” he trails off, trying to think about how to word it. Nicholas just waits. “I think about them sometimes, together?”

It was hard not to, they weren’t even fully out on the road yet, and Noah had already seen more than enough of Jolly and Nick together. He never told anyone that he saw the two of them that night after the show when Nick cold cocked that crew guy for touching Jolly. He’d only wanted to go back to the van, but only ended up walking up on Nick on his knees for Jolly right out there in the open where anyone could find them. And he certainly didn’t tell anyone he’d watched them until Nick was done before he turned around and went back to find Nicholas.

“Okay,” Nicholas nods encouragingly. “So answer my question, Noah. What do you want?”

“I want all three of you. For a night.”

He says it in a rush, but he says it clearly. Nicholas doesn’t laugh at him, doesn’t tell him that he’s out of his mind. He doesn’t say that they’re done because he’s been thinking of their two best friends. Instead, he smiles. And Noah briefly wonders if he should be a little scared.

“Let me see what I can do about that.”

“Let you—” Noah’s voice squeaks a little. “What are you talking about? You said this was just…me saying it!”

Nicholas shrugs. “Who am I to deny my boy his birthday wish? Let me talk to Jolly and Folio.”

It’s not the answer that he was expecting at all, and while he feels a significant amount of panic that Nicholas plans to casually arrange a foursome between them, he’s also intrigued to know if they’ll even agree to it. His eyes follow Nicholas as he gets up, and then he leans over the tub and places a kiss on Noah’s lips. It holds a lot of promise. When he pulls away, Noah drags in a deep breath and lets himself sink beneath the water, just for a few moments. He stays there until his heartbeat is thudding in his ears.

He pulls himself up, wiping water away from his face. Nicholas has left the bathroom. 

Noah thinks that they said no, and that’s why Nicholas hasn’t brought it up since they talked about it. Everything is fine, everything is normal. No one is looking at him any differently. And yet, he feels like it’s too normal. If Nicholas talked to them and Jolly and Nick didn’t agree to it, he thought maybe there would be some sort of reaction. It makes him spiral a little, and he doesn’t think this is one that he can talk to his therapist about. They play shows, they hang out, October wears on and no one says anything. Maybe Noah imagined it all and he’s going to wake up. Like that one episode of that old television show, it was all a dream.

But apparently, Nicholas was just waiting for the right moment to drop it on him. Eight days before his birthday and he just leans over the couch where Noah’s sitting and tells him. “Folio and Jolly are coming over tonight.”

“Okay,” he says, not looking away from the screen. It takes a few seconds for the words to really sink in, because they’re at their place all the time, but then it hits him that this isn’t going to be a normal hang out, and his head whips around. “Folio and Jolly are coming over tonight? Tonight tonight?”

“Are you just repeating me or quoting Smashing Pumpkins?”

“Nicky,” Noah says his name a little distressed, and he sees the amusement on his boyfriend’s face. “They said yes?”

There’s a brief look in Nicholas’ eyes, as if he’s surprised that Noah didn’t think they’d agree to it, but it’s gone quickly. “Of course they did. They’re going to come here, and they’re gonna help me take you apart piece by piece. Do you want that, sweet boy? One night of being completely consumed.”

He’s whispering in Noah’s ear now, one hand pressed against his chest while the other slides down to the front of his shorts, cupping him through the fabric. Noah moans helplessly, squeezing his eyes closed and arching up into the touch. He wants to ask why Nicholas is doing this now, but he thinks it’s all part of his plan. Get him riled up before Jolly and Nick arrive, make him needy and pliant for the three of them to do whatever they want with him.

“Whatever we want with you, huh? Now there is a thought.”

Noah hadn’t realized he said that last part out loud but it’s obviously exactly what Nicholas wanted to hear.

“But I have a very important question for you, Noah,” his hand is still stroking over Noah’s cock through his shorts and he’s so hard right now that he’d answer any question he was asked, give any answer he wants. “Do you deserve this?”

Noah’s eyes fly open, because he knows this game. It’s one of Nicholas’ favorites. Because he is of the belief that despite what Noah’s brain tells him sometimes, he deserves everything good in his life. He deserves the world, every single bit of pleasure and love that Nicholas gives him and that he gives in return. And if he deserves to have this night, to be selfish and greedy and let his best friends have their way with him, he better give the right answer.

He doesn’t hesitate, “I deserve it. I want it, Nicky.”

Just like that, Nicholas stops touching him completely. But that’s how the game works; Noah gave the answer that he was looking for, he was honest. Nicholas drops a kiss on his cheek and backs away from the sofa. Noah contemplates just shoving his hand into his shorts and getting off right there, but he doesn’t. It’s a near thing, but instead he sits forward and grabs his water, downing the rest of the bottle in one go. The night hasn’t even started yet. When he looks over his shoulder, he sees that Nicholas has stepped back into the kitchen, and he’s texting on his phone with that little knowing smile on his face that usually drives Noah up the wall.

“How long until they’re here?” Noah asks as casually as he can. He assumes that Nicholas is currently texting details to either Nick or Jolly, or both.

“They’re leaving their place now, so just a few minutes. Is that okay with you?”

Noah nods, certain of it. Nicholas is obviously watching him for signs of doubt, but he doesn’t feel any. None of the emotions he’s overwhelmed with suddenly have anything to do with doubt. Maybe it was Nicholas riling him up the way he had, or the fact that he knew without a doubt that nothing would go wrong with Jolly and Nick. There was an abundance of trust there, there had to be. Not just for the band, but for this. Giving himself over to them like this, even for a night, it required every ounce of trust that he had.

The minutes seem to drag on, but soon there’s a familiar knock at the door and then Nick is letting himself and Jolly in. Nicholas comes out of the kitchen as they come into the living room, and Noah digs his fingers into the couch cushion beneath his leg. He’s still half hard, and he sits forward as if it’ll be less obvious.

“Oh look, it’s the birthday boy,” Nick throws himself down on the sofa beside Noah. “Hi there.”

“It’s not for another week.” Noah points out, as if it matters.

Jolly sits down on his other side, and Noah’s eyes shoot over to Nicholas, who’s just standing there in the doorway watching them. When he realizes that he’s looking, Nicholas just gives him a wink.

“Don’t worry, we have your real present all wrapped up for your birthday.” Jolly says. For some reason, the way he says real present makes Noah a little dizzy. He doesn’t know how to tell them that this could be enough of a gift.

“So, what’s the plan here? Any rules we should know? Safe words?” Nick asks.

They were jumping right into it then. It shouldn’t surprise him at all. Nicholas finally comes further into the living room, sitting on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of Noah. Now the three of them have effectively caged him in, as if he’d want to be anywhere else.

“There aren’t any safe words, no real rules other than the fact that this is Noah’s. Whatever he wants, however he wants it, we give it to him.”

He might be speaking to Jolly and Nick when he says it, but his eyes are on Noah the entire time. He seems to be enjoying whatever expression is on Noah’s face right now, and he feels his cheeks turning red under his scrutiny.

“We can work with that.” Jolly agrees.

“You’re the boss.” Nick pipes up.

Noah leans back into the sofa, looking back and forth between the two of them. If they’re going to do this, he needs to know a few things before anything happens. “Can I…can I ask why you said yes to this? I don’t wanna fuck up your relationship or anything—”

“This isn’t going to fuck anything up,” Jolly says. “We said yes because it’s you, Noah. We love you. It might not be exactly the same kind of love that you and Ruff have, but it’s something.”

“And we chose to agree to this because you’re safe, to us. You’re safe with us.” Nick adds.

Noah tells himself he will not cry, but just hearing that makes him want to. He understands exactly what they mean, because it’s the same way for him. Nicholas, Nick and Jolly are the safest people in the world to him right now. He wouldn’t consider doing this with anyone else.

“I see the wheels turning in your head, sunshine,” Nicholas murmurs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, just do it.”

So Noah does. “Jolly, can I kiss Folio?”

He figures it’s only polite to ask, since Jolly is sharing his boyfriend with him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jolly nod, and then Nick is leaning into Noah’s space, giving him his own answer by pressing his lips to his. Noah melts into it. He hasn’t kissed anyone besides Nicholas in a long time. He curls a hand around the curve of Nick’s jaw, thumb rubbing over his cheekbone as Nick hums into the kiss. Noah feels a tap on his shoulder and he pulls back only for Jolly to be right there.

“No need to ask me,” Nick says. “Go ahead and kiss him.”

Noah isn’t sure if he’s talking to him or Jolly, but he lets Jolly pull him in and kiss him. And while kissing Nick was soft and light, this is almost the opposite of that. He slides his fingers into Noah’s hair, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he presses him back against what Noah realizes is Nick’s chest. All Noah can do is let him overwhelm him as he fists his hands in the front of Jolly’s shirt and holds on.

They start passing his mouth back and forth, Nick wrapping a hand beneath his jaw to tip his head back to kiss him for a few minutes before Jolly is taking his place, over and over. He isn’t sure how much time passes like this. His mind is a blur in the best possible way.

There’s a noise to his left, and he realizes that it’s come from Nicholas, who’s still watching them avidly from his seat on the coffee table. He pulls away from Jolly slowly, still sprawled back against Nick’s chest, and he reaches out a hand. Nicholas tangles their fingers together immediately, but he doesn’t let Noah pull him in.

“What do you say we move this to the bedroom? More room there.”

Noah hastily untangles himself from Jolly and Nick as he gets up. He leads the way upstairs to their bedroom, pulling Nicholas along behind him. Once they’re in the room though, Noah doesn’t know where to start. All three of them are looking at him as if they want to eat him alive, and it makes him feel powerful. He takes a step backward, closer to the bed. There are so many possibilities here, he knows this. Dozens of scenarios start to play out in his mind as the silence stretches on, until it gets to be too much.

“Got a plan in mind? Or is this just gonna be a staring contest?” Nick asks finally.

Noah pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside before he climbs onto the bed and leans back against the pillows. He crooks a finger, and they all start coming towards him; Nick and Nicholas on either side, and Jolly up the middle. He gets to Noah first, crawling over his body and kissing him. Noah starts to reach for him, but he finds both of his wrists being pulled above his head. He doesn’t bother to struggle, instead relaxing into the hold that Nicholas and Nick have on him while Jolly drags his mouth over his. And then there are fingers wrapping around Noah’s jaw, as Nicholas turns his head to finally get a kiss of his own.

“I have an idea, if you’re okay with it?” Nicholas asks against his lips.

Noah nods, watching as he backs off the bed for a minute. Not before passing Noah’s wrist to Jolly to hold. It’s not lost on him that Nick and Jolly are kissing while pinning him down to the mattress, and he’s torn between trying to see what Nicholas is up to, and watching them. Ultimately, he finds himself distracted by the very pretty picture that Jolly and Nick make above him.

When Nicholas comes back, he’s holding something in his hand and it takes Noah a few seconds to realize that it’s one of his old ties. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s tied Noah up, and he’s already nodding his head as Nicholas climbs up and wraps the fabric around his wrists. He winds it around one of the headboard rungs, and Noah knows all he has to do is pull with the bare minimum of force and he’d be free. The idea of not being able to use his hands while Nicholas, Jolly and Nick can touch him however they want makes him squirm around in anticipation. 

“You’re still in control here, Noah,” Nicholas says as if he needs to reassure him of the fact. “What do you want?”

The answer feels obvious. “I just..I want you. All of you.”

“We can work with that.” Nick promises.

For a brief second, Noah wonders if he's in over his head here as the three of them descend on him; Jolly kissing his lips, Nicholas dragging his mouth over his shoulder as his hands wander across his chest. Nick mouths a spot just below Noah's ear. They kiss him and touch him, until he's blurry and boneless, and all he can do is lie there and take it. They spend what feels like hours kissing him and tracing their fingers and mouths over his tattoos until his entire body feels like it’s vibrating. His fingers are wrapped so tightly around the rungs of the headboard that he doesn't ever think he'll get them free. He's rutting up against the thigh that Jolly has pressed between his legs, knowing that the friction he's getting won't last, and eventually they're going to do something else to him. 

“I’ve got an idea,” Nick says suddenly, and Noah blinks up at him. His words have made Jolly and Nicholas stop and give him their attention. “Why don’t you let Jolly have you first? You come over here to this side, Ruff.”

Noah’s nodding before he’s even done speaking, and he watches as Nicholas moves to the other side of the bed where he leans into Nick to see what’s about to happen. Nick gets his attention, putting a finger to his chin. Nicholas gives Noah another look before he turns his head and kisses Nick, soft and slow, and Noah is unable to stop the moan that he lets out at the sight. He’s never really thought about Nicholas kissing someone else, but seeing it first hand, the way he clings to Nick’s arm and pushes up into it, it does something to him. He doesn’t think it would make sense to see him with anyone else.

Jolly’s nose nudges against his cheek, and he laughs a little. “God, that’s a sight isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Noah nods and then leans back into the pillows a little more. “So, you’ve got me all to yourself. What are you going to do to me?”

Moving back, Jolly discards his shirt and then reaches over to give Nicholas a little tap, distracting him from Nick’s mouth. “Where’s your lube?”

Realistically, Noah knew he was going to get fucked in this scenario, he’d banked on it. He watches as Jolly gets the bottle from the nightstand drawer—Noah’s side—and then moves so he’s kneeling between Noah’s spread thighs.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, hooking his fingers over the waistband of Noah’s shorts.

He nods, and then Jolly’s tugging them down over his hips along with his boxers. He throws them over the side of the bed and just kind of stares down at him. It doesn’t make Noah uncomfortable, but he still blushes under his gaze.

“Very pretty,” Jolly murmurs, and behind them, Nick made an affronted noise. “I said he was pretty, I didn’t call him pretty, calm down. Go back to what you were doing over there.”

Noah’s heard Jolly use the endearment to Nick many times, he thinks it’s cute when Nick acts all flustered about it. Right now though, he’s more worried about the man above him, who is taking his sweet ass time making any kind of progress beyond getting him naked. As it is, he finally gets out of the rest of his own clothes and Noah lets out a breathy laugh when Nick wolf whistles. There's tension in the air, but it’s fun, easy. He decides he doesn’t like the idea that he can’t touch anyone and he tugs his hands free from the tie.

Jolly doesn’t seem to mind, eyes never leaving Noah’s face as he pushes one of his legs up and nudges two fingers inside of him. It’s just this side of too much, but he’s being gentle about it, and Noah breathes through it. He can feel Nick and Nicholas watching them, and he tilts his head just enough to be able to meet Nicholas’ eyes. He’s never seen Noah like this before, not from this angle. Maybe Noah preens a little bit for him, at least until Jolly twists his fingers in a certain direction and steals all his attention back.

“More, please,” Noah doesn’t even care if he’s begging. And because they’re supposed to be giving him exactly what he wants, Jolly pulls back and ever so slowly adds a third finger. Noah hisses at the stretch and grabs at the sheets so he doesn’t touch himself yet. “Yeah Jolly, please…”

His pleads dissolve into harsh gasps for air as Jolly’s fingers start to move faster, and he can hear it, the slick sound ringing in his ears. Nick moves then, away from Nicholas. He presses himself against Jolly’s side, and Noah can’t look away. Nick’s whispering something in Jolly’s ear, and then he grabs the bottle of lube, slicking up his hand before wrapping his fingers around Jolly’s cock. Noah isn’t sure which of them moans louder, because the action makes Jolly press his fingers deeper.

“Are you gonna fuck him for us, Joakim?” Nick asks, loud enough to be heard this time. “I think he’s ready for it, aren’t you Noah?”

Jolly crooks his fingers again, and Noah chokes out a desperate sob as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m ready, fuck, please…” 

There’s movement beside him and then Nicholas is tucked up to him, chin on his shoulder, He reaches up to brush his thumb beneath Noah’s eye.

“My needy boy,” he murmurs. “Let him take care of you, and then Folio and I will have our turn. Together, you want that? Can you wait for us?”

If he nods any harder, he’s going to give himself whiplash. He feels Jolly pull out his fingers, and then he’s grabbing onto Noah’s hips and tugging him down the bed. He wants to raise himself up, watch the moment that Jolly pushes inside of him. But Nicholas is still partially holding him down and he thinks that’s intentional. The moment that Jolly’s completely inside, one of Noah’s hands shoots down to wrap around his wrist where his hand is still clamped on his hip. His other hand tangles with Nicholas’, and he lets him anchor him.

The last thing he wants to do is draw comparisons, it doesn’t come close to how he feels when Nicholas is inside of him but it’s still so good. He wants to tell Jolly that he feels damn near perfect, but Jolly chooses that moment to pull almost all of the way out and then rock back in, harder each time. Noah loses his ability to speak. And then he loses his ability to think because Nick’s fingers have drifted down, teasing around where Jolly’s got him stretched open.

“Gotta admit,” Nick says a little breathlessly, “this view is definitely doin’ it for me. He’s taking you so well.”

“Oh my god,” Jolly groans. His fingers dig into Noah’s hips, and his head tips forward, watching what Nick is doing even as he probably would like him to not be so helpful. “I love you, pretty, but you gotta shut up.”

Nicholas laughs into Noah’s shoulder, before leaning up to kiss him lightly, like he doesn’t want to distract him from what Jolly’s doing. As if he could. Nick’s fingers tiptoe up his thigh, dragging along the length of his cock, and Noah’s head kicks back into the pillows. Nicholas continues to mouth along his jaw and neck, tongue brushing over inked skin. Completely overwhelmed, he feels like his entire body is aflame.

It’s exactly as Nicholas had said earlier in the night; he’s consumed by them. And he knows that this is only the beginning. Everything Nicholas has said to him is bouncing around in his mind. He wants it all, he wants everything they’re willing to give him, he deserves it. Jolly tightens his hold on Noah, thrusting harder and deeper. Nick fists Noah's cock painfully slowly, and it takes Noah a minute to realize he's matching his strokes to Jolly's. Noah feels as if he's going insane, even with the hold Nicholas still has on him. Begging will only get him so far, especially since he's supposed to be holding off.

"Please," he says, letting go of Jolly's wrist only to grab onto Nick's. He's desperately trying to keep from knocking his hand away to touch himself. "Please, I can't—"

"Can't what?" Nick's tone is mischievous as he stops moving his hand, just holding on to him. "Can't come yet? You're right, you're gonna wait for us. But Jolly's almost there, aren't you honey?"

“You’re being so good for us, sunshine,” Nicholas says in Noah’s ear, and he finds himself blinking back tears at the praise. “You can do it, I know you can.”

Noah nods frantically, a blissful smile on his face. “Joll—look at me.”

Jolly’s eyes snap up to his face immediately. “Can I?”

He knows what he’s asking and he’s barely got the yes out of his mouth before Jolly’s coming inside of him, yanking his hips down, holding him still. He curls himself over Noah, wedging himself into his space to kiss him. Noah smiles into it, petting his fingers through his hair. If either Nicholas or Nick hear him whisper a thank you against Jolly’s mouth before he pulls out and shifts over on the bed beside him, they don’t mention it.

Nicholas sits up, leaning over him with a serious expression on his face. “Our turn.”

Somehow, Noah finds it in himself to move how Nicholas and Nick want him; they take their time stripping out of their clothes and then get Noah over on his hands and knees, Nick kneeling behind him, Nicholas in front of him. Noah looks up at him with wide, glassy eyes. He can feel Nick running his fingers over the ink on his back, tracing the lines. He leans down and presses a kiss to Noah’s shoulder blade, and Noah shudders.

Nicholas leans down and grasps his face in his hands, kissing him until Noah’s moaning against his mouth. He finally has to pull away, dizzy for air, and he presses back into Nick, “What are you waiting for?”

“Sorry, it’s just—” He sounds a little flustered and Noah looks back over his shoulder. He’s staring down between his legs. “I don’t think I’m gonna need any more lube, is all.”

Noah blushes hotly. He could already feel Jolly’s come leaking out of him in this position, and he thinks about what that must be like for Nick to see that. “Then don’t. You can fuck me like this, it’s okay.”

He turns his attention back to Nicholas, but out of the corner of his eye he sees Jolly moving and he can hear him whispering quietly to Nick. A few moments later he feels it when Nick guides his cock inside him. He might not be able to see it, but he’s imagining that Jolly’s doing it for him. Closing his eyes, he presses his face into Nicholas’ hip, lets him pet his fingers into his hair while he adjusts.

“Hey, look at me for a sec, Noah,” Nicholas says once Nick’s hips are flush against him and Noah’s struggling to stay still and not rock back against him. “You can come whenever you want to, okay?”

Noah nods and leans back a little, wrapping a hand around the base of Nicholas’ cock. He tilts his head and drags his lips up and then down, just to feel him twitch in his hand. Nick starts moving and Noah draws in a breath, taking Nicholas in his mouth as far as he can. He relaxes between them, feeling one of them hook a hand over his shoulder while the other gently cradles the back of his head. He lets his eyes flutter closed. The glide of Nicholas’ cock over his tongue, the feeling of Nick’s sharp, quick thrusts, it’s everything he could want right now.

They work him back and forth, their rhythm syncing up in an all too familiar way even though it’s never been like this before. Every time Nick’s hips snap into his, it pushes him further down on Nicholas’ cock. And then he pulls him back and does it all over again. 

He feels Jolly close to him again, and then he’s reaching down and curling his fingers around Noah’s cock. “You look so good like this,” he says and Noah hums around Nicholas. “So good, we’re all so proud of you.”

It’s too much and not enough, and Noah lets out a stifled noise as he comes all over Jolly’s hand and the sheets. Behind him, Nick gasps through his own orgasm, fingers digging in to marks that Jolly had left behind. Noah pulls off of Nicholas, gasping for air. He starts to reach for him again, but he doesn’t let him. Nick shifts back, pulling out slowly and he moves out of the way so he’s next to Jolly.

“Turn around for me, Noah?” Nicholas asks instead.

Uncaring of the mess already on the sheets, Noah does as he’s asked and turns around, flopping down on his stomach. He’s exhausted and wrung out but he wants to give this to Nicholas. He feels Nick and Jolly watching them as Nicholas lifts his hips and slides in easily, and Noah’s breath stutters in his chest as his hips roll into his, slow and deep. Nicholas curls himself over him, lips brushing softly over his cheek. He tangles his fingers with Noah’s on one hand, and the others touch Noah’s bottom lip. He instantly pulls them into his mouth, and he feels Nicholas smile.

“There’s my sweet boy,” he says, and Noah feels warm all over. “You’re so fucking good to all of us…”

Nicholas trails off, pressing his face into the back of Noah’s neck, over the newest tattoo. All Noah can do is squeeze the hand he’s holding onto, quiet muffled moans escaping around Nicholas’ fingers. It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to turn sloppy before he finally goes still against him. He presses his face into Noah’s shoulder, and he can feel his heart thudding against his back.

Noah’s a mess when he finally pulls out; covered in sweat, come, probably his own spit and tears, he just lays there trying to remember how to breathe. He’s half hard again but too tired to do anything about it. He can hear the quiet murmurs of Jolly and Nick talking, and feel the soothing touch of Nicholas carding his fingers through Noah’s hair. The bed shifts, and when he looks up through his hair, he sees Nick and Jolly leaving the room.

“They’re gonna use the guest shower,” Nicholas explains. “I’m gonna go start ours and then I’ll be back to help you up, okay?”

“I can walk, Nicky,” he promises, his voice muffled by the sheets.

Nicholas chuckles, patting his shoulder. “Sure baby, you tell yourself that.”

Noah makes a face, but he begins to doubt if his legs are gonna work when he tries to stand up. Eventually, Nicholas comes back and helps him up. He’s a little wobbly, and Nicholas doesn’t tell him I told you so like he obviously wanted to.

“Is this what you wanted for your birthday?” he asks once he’s got Noah beneath the hot spray, scrubbing a soaped up loufa over his skin.

“Definitely top five gift ideas for sure.”

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae

@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses

@thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

@malice-ov-mercy @itsjustforce @darksigns-exe @baddestomens

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

@collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @dsireland86 @fadingangelwisp

[steviewashere]

Always Need You

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Vague Suicidal Thoughts Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Hand Holding, Eddie Munson Overthinks A LOT, Reference to Hamlet, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Smart Steve Harrington (Because He IS), Perceptive Steve Harrington, Water Imagery, They Go to The Beach, They're Going to Plot Against Steve's Parents For @steddieangstyaugust Day 7 Prompt: Moonlight Though, I will say, I went more with moon rather than moonlight, but there's still a little bit in here about the actual moonlight.

🌕—————🌊 The sand is wet, squishy, and sort of grainy under his toes. At the edge of the water, there’s not enough of it to come rushing between his toes, but he knows he’ll walk back from here with soles painted brown. Little bits and bobs of gritty sand in the fine wrinkles of his feet. Probably catch some of the drier stuff, too. The ocean roars again; a big, cold, eye-catching wave crashing into his shins. Thank god I rolled up my sweats, he thinks.

It wasn’t his idea to come out here. Not out here as in right now, but out here to the beach in general. He’s never been. Doesn’t think he could survive if swept away into the ocean—though, maybe he’s alright with that thought. Passively and not, he’s okay with it.

Steve’s idea came one late night when his parents told him it would be good for him to get out of Hawkins for a while. Neither in an act of kindness nor grace, the Harringtons don’t do that. Him and Steve think it’s one big notion to follow through with the motion of selling the house—the estate he had joked once, empty silence following it that still haunts him to this day.

That alone had to be reason…18, he thinks, of all the reasons to come contemplating out here.

Out here. Out here.

Only thirty yards away from the beach house they rented for the foreseeable week. He’s having a good time, at least he believes so anyway. Hanging out with his boyfriend—which, shit, that’s the least plausible thing he’s ever heard in his short life—making s’mores around a screen-perfect campfire, holding each other close under a heavy and hot comforter while the cold breeze outside comes flittering through a cracked window, having sex for the love and no longer the thrill. There’s no thrill if they can’t be caught and there’s no thrill if they aren’t dancing around each other anymore. There’s a thrill to it, though, that makes him excited just to get his shoulder touched, but that comes from the lonely years that prehistorically predated all that he has now.

Thirty yards away from the safety zone. Or is it a buffering zone, he asks himself. It doesn’t matter. Steve’ll probably correct him on it for the fiftieth time and they’ll giggle like it’s funny, but sometimes he thinks he gets on Steve’s nerves after a while. Can’t even get your stupid brain to remember what he loves. What kind of boyfriend are you?

Out here, he doesn’t have to worry about Steve stroking his forehead and complimenting him all soft like. Because he can’t be read on the face in the dark. He can’t be picked apart in that silent, persistent, perceptive way that Steve knows how. Sometimes he wonders if the roles are actually reversed—maybe Steve is the freak, maybe he’s been stalking the entire time. Because how in the hell does he just know most days? The self loathing and the wandering thoughts and the kick to his own ribs…he’s picked up and carried by Steve’s hands after it all. It won’t be the last time, he knows that, but maybe the last time won’t be so far away.

The ocean waves crash into him again. This time, he staggers with the force. Hands plucking on the sides of his pants, trying to get them to stay rolled up. Toes clenching for purpose in the wet sand. 

He wonders if, when and how he falls, if he’ll survive the ocean. If it’ll be like surviving his brain the last few years. Bobbing and weaving and then getting caught on something and then drowning in that pocket for a while. He wonders what drowning feels like. 

Steve told him it burned. Steve told him that it was like an icy fire was making home in his lungs. Steve told him he’d never been more afraid of anything else in his life. Steve told him to stop asking, teary eyed and frightened. So he dropped it. He listened like an obeying dog.

Though, he wonders if, how and long he continued to ask, if Steve would’ve told him what it felt like to be heavy in the cold. If the imminent death that seemed closer and closer was easy to come to terms with, or if he wanted to kick his legs harder to propel away.

He shakes himself and rights where he stands. The wave recedes. Low tide soon, maybe—that’s more something that Steve would know, not him. Sometimes when he gets too big, he needs to feel small for a long while. He thinks the low tide is going to be soon. Sooner, if he continues to stay out here.

Now that the waters have lessened their work, a mercy cry, he hears more of the world. The cars driving by late night on the road just beyond the beach houses. Clicks of lighters and that first slow inhale. A far away boat, one long horn.

A stride of heavyset feet on dry to wet ground. The struggle, he thinks, of them trying not to eat it on the sand dunes. But the stampede gets closer, closer, closer still as he continues to stand. Eyes out on the vacant, abyss horizon. Water kissing the insides of his ankles. A calm, deep nothingness around him—he wonders if it would be easy to slip into it, or maybe he’s already there. I could live out here, he thinks.

“Hey,” a familiar voice pants on his right, “hey, Eds. Found you.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of the water. Doesn’t blink. “Didn’t know we were playing a game of hide & seek,” he murmurs, but it’s more of a croak. It sort of hurts. Maybe it’ll stay this way, for his sake. But he doesn’t get what he wants, even when the mere thought manifests. He knows he won’t get it because he’s already melting with Steve’s warmth around him.

Steve chuckles deep from his chest. Shoulder bumping Eddie. Bare skin from elbow down on Eddie’s own. He’s warm. “I came out of the shower to an empty bed,” he murmurs, too. 

“Sorry,” he responds on reflex.

“Don’t need to be,” Steve brushes off—that perceptive way of his. “I saw you from the window. Thought I’d come join. Maybe the breeze will help dry my hair.”

Eddie gives a noncommittal grunt.

Almost in his ear, Steve copies him. “You’ve got that look on your face,” he whispers, “what’re you thinkin’ about, Eds?”

You’ve caught me, he wants to exclaim, you know me! How the hell do you know me?!

A million things, he then wants to say, a million pointless, probably concerning things.

He thinks about that Hamlet speech:

“To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep, No more.”

The Hamlet speech that made him pass theater class. The Hamlet speech that he clung onto years after because it just made sense. For once, with this skillset and his wandering imagination, he could focus his brain front and center on Shakespeare’s words. It was the first time that Shakespeare ever made sense. Even as there’s a million interpretations, much like his thoughts, there was a certain way he read it that could only cover how he felt. A passive question he always asked himself. And yet, it was a non-passive question—he knew what it meant for him.

He’s thinking of the time he saw a murder of crows protect the limp, sodden corpse of a stray cat he once fed, now turned to roadkill. Of how he wandered close to them. Of how they didn’t ignore him, but rather let him pick the cat up and bury her in the soft dirt across the street. How they watched him pick weeds that resembled flowers enough to count as something. Like he did for his mom whenever he visited her grave, too young to have a job and couldn’t afford the big, fragrant bouquets that he saw others wander by with. He’s wondering if they both appreciated it, or if they pitied him like the fool he is—maybe they saw that he was trying too hard to make things right, as if it was his whole responsibility to mend the holes.

He’s thinking about the first time he had Steve’s hands on his body. Applying pressure to wounds that weren’t superficial in the slightest. But Steve had believed he would survive. He was the only one to believe it. He wonders if the rest of their crew looked at Steve the way Eddie’s mother probably looked at him when he visited. Pity, like he was a fool, too. Maybe love makes fools of all of them, pity or no—even in the good relationships, like he has now.

He’s thinking about how, even though he has a lot of good things, all of it doesn’t outweigh the terrible he experiences back home. It’s safer by the cold, crashing ocean than it is walking through the back ways of Hawkins. That says something, not poetic, he thinks.

“I don’t know,” he eventually says, “probably too much for what’s supposed to be a vacation.” Eddie swallows. There’s nothing in his mouth but words and teeth and his own tongue. 

He wants to be honest.

A moment later, he admits softer, “Thinking about dying. About…about if I’d survive being swept into the ocean. Probability points to a zero percent chance because I don’t swim that good.”

It’s quiet again. The way it was before Steve got here. Cars beyond and clicking lighters and small crashes of tiny ocean waves. So quiet, he thinks he hears the squelch of his feet in the sand. The squelch of him grabbing onto something before he drifts too far away.

“I used to think that, too,” Steve breathes. “Used to wonder about it all the time. If I’d survive the impossible. A car crash from any side, the drop over the quarry, Lover’s Lake and the ocean.”

Eddie looks away from the water, finally. Not a side glance at Steve, but something contemplative at his own feet. “What made you stop?” He asks quietly.

Steve shrugs, feels his shoulder brush. “I don’t think I stopped until Vecna fucking ate it,” he confesses in a low murmur. “Until I knew I was safe.” His hand, cold and slightly damp reaches out for Eddie’s wrist. Fingers wrapping around, not clenching or squeezing, just loosely grasping for purchase.

“I wish I felt like that,” Eddie sighs. “Maybe it’s just not in the cards for me.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, so clearly thinking. Probably mapping out all kinds of routes in that wonderful brain of his. His whole arm slips through the gap of Eddie’s, linking them together. “Did you know that the ocean wouldn’t be what it is without the moon?”

He looks to Steve at that. Questioning eyes and words bubbling inside. Can’t help himself, he laughs. “What?” He gets out between fits, “where did that come from?”

A smile adorns Steve’s face. A soft, thoughtful one. “It’s true, though,” he speaks, quiet and traversing, “the…uh…there’s gravitational pulls that come from both the Moon and the Earth. And these forces kind of work together. The pull on the Moon makes these bulges in the ocean, both where the closest side is to it and the farthest side. These make the tides go high, those big beautiful waves. And when the bulges are low, low tides are created.

“Without these forces, without the Moon, the Earth’s ocean would be only low tide. That means a lot of the smaller animals that survive off of these tides would cease to exist, the ecosystems would be absolutely destroyed. The ocean kind of carries the things these animals need to survive. And, well, without them and the Moon…poof…no more.” Steve’s smile doesn’t leave his face, but it’s stronger now that it’s pointed directly at Eddie. All of his teeth a muted white in the light reflecting off of the water. And his eyes glistening, dark in an abyssal way. His skin a dusty white-blue.

For once, he doesn’t know what to think. Or how to think. It’s as if the currents that activated all those burbling worries just ceased to exist. He’s a lot thankful for it, but he won’t say that yet. Steve’s got this look to him that reads more. More in the best way.

“How do you”—

“Science class. It was, outside of gym, the subject I was best at.”

Eddie probably could’ve figured. Steve’s always had this way to him that reads: diamond in the rough. Things waiting to be excavated. So he’ll go with it. “And…where is this”—

“You’re the moon to me,” Steve says easily, “you do this really wonderful thing to me, y’know? Make my heart race every time I look at you or touch you, even when I just hear about you. And makes my day sort of…worth it? Think it would destroy me if you weren’t here. If, after all this wonderful time with you, we got nothing together in the end.

“I don’t know…I don’t know where your brain is tonight or what you’ve been thinking exactly, but I can assure you right now you’re much needed. Not just for me, you know? Dustin looks to you for guidance all the time. All the time. He’ll come bug me at work, say something about Hellfire, and is usually saying: ‘I bet Eddie would know. He always knows.’ And it’s the same with the other members, I can tell you right now.

“Wayne would be…I don’t want to even imagine what Wayne would be like.” Steve’s eyes glisten impossibly more. Swallowing hard—probably consuming all that flickers through him, what those things are, Eddie knows better than to ask about them. “I don’t know what I’d be,” he whispers, “if I had to only wonder what you’d think or what you’d say when something happens. If I had to wonder because you weren’t…” His fingers are still wrapped around Eddie’s wrist, but now they tighten. Hard enough Eddie begins to feel the bite of his nails. Another swallow. Clarity. “My point is is that you’re a much needed presence in everybody’s lives and all those shitheads from Hawkins who don’t like you, because they can’t see the person you actually are, they can go suck a fat fucking egg.”

All the air in Eddie’s lungs leaves him, wheezing out of his mouth as he laughs something so loud and unexpected, he thinks it could rival the sound of crashing waves. “Wow,” he marvels, “you have such a way with words.” He squeezes the hand in his, fingers tight to Steve’s. “And for the record, sweetheart,” he says when he can fully catch his breath, “I wouldn’t actually do anything, y’know. It’s just…I wander, I guess. Especially out here. When it’s like only quiet and pretty and…The best part about this beach not even being close to Hawkins is that nobody here knows me. And I can just be. Though, I guess just being makes me think too hard. About life back home.”

Steve hums. Smile still stretching across his face. And with him, Eddie knows he’s safe. In their hold they have, in the light they share, in the warmth they’ve created. He can admit anything out here and Steve won’t stare at him strangely.

“Maybe we should find somewhere else to go,” Steve quietly suggests a moment later. “Now that the world isn’t ending. And we know that it’s all done for for good. We should go find a reclusive place to be. I’ve heard that Oregon’s got some great beaches. Washington and California, too.”

Eddie snorts. “I don’t want to laugh at your idea, but how on Earth are we going to be able to afford that?”

“Easy,” Steve says, “we goad my parents into giving me money. Maybe I…I’ll come up with some lie that I heard that they’re selling the house without giving me notice. Because I know that’s exactly what they’re doing. And I’ll threaten to like…I’ll expose them, that’s it! Ruin their reputation if they don’t agree.”

“It’s alarming that you’ve got a mastermind plan already building in that head of yours,” Eddie states. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. You always know how to get things done. What to say.”

A flattered expression washes over Steve’s face. But he doesn’t acknowledge Eddie’s words. A discussion for another time, then. Instead, he goes on, “I’ll get Nancy in on it, Eds. She’s been waiting since high school to take my parents down a notch. This is her chance. And this is going to be our chance to get away.”

“I’m with you so far, but I’m hung up on what I’ll do without Wayne.”

“Bring Wayne,” he says immediately, “he’ll have his own room and everything. We’ll figure it out.” And Steve’s eyes are squinted with his smile, his body lax and easy. He knows, in his own perceptive way, that they will.

“Okay,” Eddie gives in, “we’ll figure this out.”

Steve swings their arms back and forth for a moment. “Let’s go to bed, baby. I want to show you all the ways I love you.”

He can’t stop himself from letting out a giddy giggle. “Okay,” he agrees, “let’s do that.”

“And the ways I need you. Because I’ll always need you, Eds. Even when your brain goes elsewhere, I’ll need you.”

“I need you, too, Stevie.”

And as Steve pulls him along the dunes, sand sticky to the soles of his feet, Eddie takes in the roaring quiet again. Wondering, the only thing he can wonder, what it feels like to live in Steve’s heart the way he does in Eddie’s. He’s warm. He’s excited. And he knows, perpetually and no matter where they are in the world, they’re safe with each other.

Much like the moon will always be with the ocean.

🌕—————🌊

[ludupedia]

˗ˏˋ 𓇼 aquarium worker!misty thoughts ִ ִ ִ

tags/warnings: she/her misty this time, a little unserious, not proofread 🐳

wordcount: sweats...

🌊 . . . misty as ur tour guide... she has one of those stupid little company caps that's technically part of her work uniform,, but she never wears it cause it + the humidity in some places of the lot fucks with her hair SO BADLY and her boss just gave up on reprimanding her for it. she doesn't cause too much trouble... not to his knowledge, anyway

🌊 . . . taking you to go sea the otters! their exhibit is mainly this TALL tank of water that has rocks they use for shelter up on the land bit. not a lot of them are out, but two are holding hands in the water! this prompts her to inform you of the beloved fact that they do it so neither of them drift away.

🌊 . . . she's definitely one of the people that randomly drop weird mating facts about the animals or inform you about their social hierarchies. the strongest sea lions tie up the weak ones and beat them to death, or something like that!

🌊 . . . maybe, instead of a guest, you're a new employee! your fates intertwined and she got assigned to show you around! (the aquarium was really short staffed that day, she was just the first person to offer you help...) misty teaches you what animals you'll be responsible for, and all the names of their rescues.

🌊 . . . it is definitely chilly inside!!!! and this jacket is the one she brings to work. no other one, it HAS to be this one, or all hell breaks loose.

🌊 . . . her previous nursing experience comes in handy, too. maybe you've had a busy day and had to help clean up a drained exhibit w/ cracked glass, but you don't even pay mind to the cut it leaves on your upper arm. the infection you get is thankfully mild, but Misty is talking your ear off about pathogens and harmful bacteria that thrives in water the entire time she's tending to the gash.

🌊 . . . #1 Orca Wrangler. tries to get you to pet Orville the Orca, her favorite creature in any of the exhibits... “oh, don't be silly, he's friendly!” as she's rubbing his dorsal fin (he's bumping against the glass when he sees you...)

🌊 . . . +++ lottie needs to take him on a supervised aquarium trip ASAP 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 my man deserves it after the finale...

[planetharrie]

���.ೃ࿔*:･Jet Ski

In which Harry and you are interviewed on the streets of New York on how you first met 🦩🚤🌊

This is inspired by ‘meetcutesnyc’ videos on tiktok, although this turned out to be way longer and in depth than I’d planned.

⭐️

There was a cool breeze drafting the streets of New York City, but Harry's hand enveloping yours was enough to keep your entire body warm. You'd both decided that a morning walk through the highstreets was needed after waking up still full from last night's bottomless tacos and fancy drinks. (Well, and to also 'window-shop', as you'd described it.)

"Whew—fuck, I'm still full from that dinner.." Harry cringed as he threw a t-shirt over his head. You hum in reply, glancing at him in the reflection of the mirror you were using. "Fancy a walk? I feel like I'm carrying rocks in my stomach!"

You click the lid back onto your eyeliner wand and whirl your head around, your freshly-washed hair twirling with the suddenly movement. Harry catches the glimmer in your eye, "That to me sounds like an invitation for some window-shopping, babe."

With your cherry-cheek smooshed into Harry's upper arm, you both amble the streets of New York—Harry now $50 short because of a pair of new shoes.

"Y/n, you said we'd just window-shop." Harry winged, unimpressed with the cardboard shopping bag dangling in his right hand. You lift you head up off his arm and glance up at him with slight puppy eyes.

"I know. . . but—" Your argument was slowly cut short when you were approached by two young guys; one holding a mobile phone up, clearly recording.

"Hey, excuse me?" The guy—who wasn't recording—started, "are you two a couple?"

You and Harry slowly come to a halt and he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist protectively.

"Yes, we are!" Harry chirped, with a tinge of uncertainty in his reply. His ring-clad hand squeezed your waist slightly and you lean into him as the guy continues.

"Great! Would you mind telling us how you first met?" He gently signals to the phone camera and his eyes scan both of you.

You laugh nervously and glance up at Harry, who's cracked a shy smile. He shuffles on his feet and takes you both to the side of pavement, out of the way of other pedestrians.

"Oh—sure! We'd love to." Harry agrees. When he gives an encouraging nod, you look back at the two guys in front of you.

"We met on a lake—" You begin before both you and Harry burst into laughter. He rubs his eye all embarrassed, and nudges you to continue after you'd both sobered up from the fit of giggles.

"Sorry. We met on a lake; I had gone swimming with my friend and we took this inflatable flamingo with us. ." You make a swift glance up at Harry and catch him watching you proudly as you re-tell one of the best days of your lives.

"And Harry," You point you thumb at him, "had actually offered to help us blow-up the flamingo for us 'cause we were struggling!"

Another fit of giggles erupt but just from you this time and your hands cover your flushed face in embarrassment. Harry takes over and you can hear his smile as he talks.

"Oh, my God, Y/n! Do you have noodles for legs?" Your friend cried jokingly as you attempt to to blow-up your inflatable flamingo with a pump. Except, you were laughing too much to even push you leg down on the foot-pump.

You were nearly bent at the waist, hugging your stomach as tears of laughter form in your eyes. You couldn't stop the fits of giggles coming from you. "It—it's too—it's too fucking stiff!" Your sentence comes out broken in between laughs. You try the pump again, using all your leg-strength, managing one large pump of air into the crinkled, plastic flamingo's poor arse.

From a few yards away, a young guy wearing black sunglasses had been watching the two girls struggle for the past 10 minutes. Stood next to a parked black truck, he cracked his own smile when the two girls fell to the knees with uncontrollable laughter.

"Oi, mate. Fancy helping?" His friend grunted under a pile of water-sports equipment in his arms. "Harry, stop being a creep—"

Harry shot him a pointed look, his lips tied in an unimpressed line. He took off his sunglasses and placed them on his friend's head. "Hold these."

"Harry!—" The friend dropped the equipment at his feet with a defeated sigh as he watched his nosy friend walk up the two hysterical girls at the edge of the lake.

"Do you guys need any help with that?" Harry called orotundity as he approached you and your friend.

You quickly sobered up and awkwardly picked yourself up from the grass and tucked your hair behind your ears.

"Uh. . ." Your started, glancing between him and your friend who was still sat, leaning back on her hands. She shrugged and you spotted her concealing a smirk.

"I know these pumps are a pain. I can do it for you, if you'd like?" He insisted, talking with his hands.

"Sure. Thanks." You stand back, shyly covering your bikini-covered torso with your hands cupping your burnt shoulders.

You watch him. He takes off his green shirt and discards it as his feet. His calf muscles flex and tighten as his leg starts pumping. The flamingo finally starts to grow and form into something more than creased blob of plastic.

"He's trying too hard to impress us." Your friend whispers in your ear, her eyes never leaving the generous brunette. You shush her and she laughs breathily.

"Don't. He's sweet!"

He morphs into a squat, his boxers' waistband now on show, as he secures the lip of the air-hole.

"Think I've pumped enough air into 'em—"

"Her." Your friend interrupts him.

". . . her, sorry. I'm Harry, by the way." He blinks.

Harry. You've always liked that name.

"I’m Y/N—oh, and this is Y/f/N. Thank you for helping us." You smile.

"Not a problem. Be careful on the water, heard it can get uh.. quite blustery out there." Harry starts backing away, waving a hand up as a 'goodbye.'

You and your friend share a look; her lips crinkle-up in disgust whereas yours morph into a flattered smile.

"Hey, don't make that face. He was cute."

"He was cringe, Y/N."

"So that's how we first met. Ever."

"And then later on that same day he came and saved me with his fancy little jet ski." You finished, biting your bottom lip with a smile.

The interviewer nodded, "Okay, I need to hear the rest of this story! You say he saved you? What happened?"

Harry sighed and raised his brows, "I had warned her to be careful. She wasn't exactly sober when I met her a second time that day..."

You gently wack him with your hand and he grunts. "I'd had two beers!" You looked back at the camera-guy, "I wasn't drunk."

"She was."

You were about 150 meters out from shore, bobbing up and down ever-so-lightly on the pink flamingo; a half-finished can of Brewdog in your left hand, resting lazily on the ring. Your toes paddled in the murky waters keeping you cool despite the 27° heat practically penetrating into your skin.

With your head comfortably tilted back, you hadn't realised exactly how far you'd floated from you and your friend's little sunbathing spot on shore. Eventually, you tuned back to reality after daydreaming your way for many yards away from Y/f/N. No longer hearing Tove Lo blasting from your tiny travel speaker, you lift your head up along with your sunglasses. You scan the water.

"Oh, fuck. ." You palm your forehead. "Bloody hell."

You seethe a storm of cusses and sit up straighter. "Great. How on earth am I going to get back?"

You spotted the beer can in your hand and don't think twice to down it in one. You looked around. Then looked around again; and again for a third time, your tipsy-brain half-expecting for some magical sea animal to appear and push you back to shore.

But this is Windermere Lake in Cumbria. The only possible magical creature that could sail you back to shore was the element of wind, and for the first time in possibly forever, it was not a windy day in England.

You flinch at the distant buzzing noise ‘near’ your ear, flapping your hand to scare away the imaginary bumble bee. But in reality, a couple of jet skis were coasting the water, creating minor waves that bobbed you up and down.

“Oi! Hey!” You yell, speech slightly slurred as your rock on the floaty. “Stop making those fuckin’ waves!”

A guy on one of the two jet skis, casted a long glimpse over at you as his water-ride slowed. He yelled over his shoulder, making some remarks with one of his arms at his friend before steering over towards you.

You frown and swallow, sitting up a bit as this stranger approaches you. He’s shirtless and wearing a crimson life jacket.

‘He’s wearing flip flops..’ you think to yourself, spotting the green shoes on his feet.

“Y/N. Fancy seeing you again.” The guy jeers, a smirk tugging at his lips. He circles you, his eye never leaving yours.

“You know my name?” You cock an eyebrow at him, a small scowl of disgust at his cheekiness.

“Hmm. .” He hums. “That makes it sound like I’m some stalker-creep guy. Not pleased. I’m Harry. We met earlier?”

Earlier, earlier, earlier? You wrack your brains. The alcohol fuzzed your memory slightly but you do recall a particularly random interaction with a particularly random dude.

“Oh, right. Hi. . . again.” You feel you cheeks tie-dye into a colour resembling embarrassment.

He eventually stops circling you after a fifth time, which you’re internally thankful for as he’d started making you feel dizzy.

“Are you stuck out here?” He squints at the lake, realising you’re both dead centre of it. “I can help you get back, if you’d like?”

Your ego says NO. How embarrassing was it having to have the same guy to help you out twice in one day; a guy you just met! But your brain still had a ration of sense in it; you wanted to get back to Y/f/N and stand on solid ground.

“I hope you realise how much I want to say no right now, Harry.”

He laughs, lowering his head and shaking it. You kick a splash of water at him with a smug look.

“Come on, Trouble. Hop on and I’ll take you in.” He beckons you, shuffling on his seat to make more room for you on the back.

Trouble. Trouble? You can’t tell whether to laugh, cry, smile or take offence to that nickname.

“‘M not trouble..” You mumble as you attempt to clamber from the inflatable. “Do you always wear those silly vests?”

Harry smiled with mixed expressions of embarrassment, offence and amusement. He looks down at the life jacket.

“Don’t go insulting my life jacket while you’re out here on a ten-quid floaty. I’d rather look silly while having fun rather than. . look ‘cool’ and drown.” Was his reply, cheeky as usual. “Which would you rather?”

“At least I’d die and look good.”

“At least I won’t be dying. Now come on, take my hand.” His hand reaches out, clasping yours and ready to hoist you onto the back of the jet ski. You awkwardly balance on the inflatable, knees shaking as you prepare to leap onto the vehicle.

Instead, you launch yourself a metre underwater and Harry pulls you back up.

“Jesus Christ, are you alright?” His voice is low and grave as you resurface and gasp for a breath.

The water is numbingly cold and with desperation you pull yourself up. You cough, spluttering and spitting into the water bellow.

“Ergh. I think—I think I just swallowed something!” You reach a hand up to your mouth attempting to scrape whatever it was from your lips.

“I had a firm grip on you. Why on earth did you—well, I don’t even know what you did.” Harry’s body is twisted, facing you.

Your eyes dart up at him and he takes that as a sign to start driving.

“What about your float—”

“Just drive, Harry.”

“And then after that, we shared each other’s Tumblr usernames and it just went on from there. . .” You finish, your smile wide. “We were too cool for contact numbers, I think.”

“Wow! So what did you think of Harry when you first met?” The interviewer asked, clearly very amused by your story.

“I thought. . . I thought he was charming; very charming. I’ve always looked back and admired how confident he was to approach us but he wasn’t cocky a single bit.”

“And Harry? What were your first impressions of Y/N?”

Harry paused, “Fun. I got the impression that she was a very fun and bubbly person; ya know, those people you just always want to be around?”

“And were you right?”

“Absolutely. She is my person. And she’s so fuckin’ pretty so I couldn’t ask for more.” Harry leans down and drops of kiss in your hair.

“Alright, thank you guys! Have a great day.” The two guys held up a hand and walked away, leaving you and Harry to continue your New York stroll.

“I loved that.” You whisper up at him, his green eyes bright with love and adoration. You appreciated those two (obvious) TikTokers approaching you and asking about your love story.

“I love you.”

“I love you, H.”

⭐️

[lightwing-s]

can you do more dick + sea? 🌊 please

You watched on as Dick, Wally, Roy and Donna played volleyball on the sand, the sun on its way down on the background of it all painting the perfect end to a perfect day. Those days were rare and few between all the chaos and confusion that was teenage crime fighting, but their rarity made for some of the best days you had experienced beside the team.

“Hey, Yn!” Dick called, breaking you out of your current daydream. “We’re all going for one last swim, are you coming?”

“Erm, I’m fine.” You lied, playing nervously with the strings on your bikini. “I’ll just watch you guys.”

Noticing your fidgeting and knowing you as well as he did, he turned his back to the sea and headed in your way. “Is this about your fear of water?” he asked, crouching down in front of you, standing on your eye level and so fucking close, making sure his face was all you could see.

You tried to hide it, lowering your eyes to your crossed legs, playing with the anklet Dick had tied around your ankles earlier that day, an identical one adorning his own. You were scared of the sea since you could remember, it’s vastness, it’s mysteries frightening you even with Aqualad telling you repeatedly it was all fine, there was nothing to worry about.

Lifting your chin so your eyes could meet again, Dick held your face up, thumb caressing your cheek as he tried one more time. “Please, Yn.” His soft eyes, capable of melting you entirely, boring deep into your own and leaving your mind slightly numb. “It won’t be fun without you.”

And like a puppy, his head bobbed to the side, making it a thousand times harder to say no. “D, I c-can’t…”

“I promise to keep you safe.” he begged, a large smile spreading on his face causing you to be unable to hold your own. “I’ll hold you tight. Please, please, pleeeease.”

“Alright!” you gave in, laughing at his incessant nagging. “Promise?”

And putting his pinky finger in front of you, waiting till yours tangled around it, he said: “Promise. With my own life.”

Getting into the water wasn’t easy, but he held your hand till you arrived where everyone else was. And as promised, once you were all settled, feet hooked on the sand in a desperate attempt to hold yourself together, you felt his arms coming beside you and hugging your lower waist, chin resting on your shoulders as the group joked, sang and had fun all the way till the sun was almost gone from the horizon.

“See,” Dick whispered in your ear, taking your attention away from whatever the hell Wally was going on about. “The sea is not as deadly as it looks.”

Leaving a kiss on your exposed shoulder, you tried not to give away the shivers running down your body, praying the strong winds were an excuse enough for him not to grow suspicious.

“I guess it's fine.” He laughed at your defensiveness, placing another kiss on the same spot before you felt his wet hair hit the skin on your cheek, head resting there till everyone found it was time to go back home.

He intertwined your fingers together, leading you out, the group going further ahead of you two. “Hey, Yn?” he called again.

You only hummed in response. “There was something… I’ve been wanting to do it all day, you know.” He continued, shyly looking away from you.

“What is it?” you questioned, innocently aware of him cracking his knuckles nervously. 

Stopping suddenly, he turned back to you and you finally could see the nervousness in his eyes. “Promise me you won’t be mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” you questioned again, not understanding where it was all going.

“Because what I’m about to do can change… well everything.”

“For good or for bad?”

“That’s up to you to decide.”

As he desperately tried to avoid your eyes, you somehow managed to trap them on yours. His growing pink cheeks a mix of sunkissed and shyness. His shoulders, that grew larger by the days, matching the redness on his face, an evidence of the day spent under the strong summer sun 

“Do it.” you whispered, ignoring the audience forming on the shore.

And leaning in, so slow you could’ve sworn he must have stopped the time, Dick’s lips met yours for a salty, yet so sweet, kiss. His hands holding your neck as yours rushed to his sides, pulling him closer, a hunger for his warmth you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Fucking finally!” you heard Wally scream, as whistles and laughter flooded your ear. You planted your face in Dick’s chest, hiding away, or at least trying to, from your little audience, as his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Just ignore them,” he said. “Just focus on me.”

[amenders93]

The Gang Go In

Molly didn't know that Ginger, all her chicken aunts and grandpa, and her two favorite rodent uncles were just outside the farm. And now the rescue gang had made an incredibly clever plan to blast their way inside and get her home safe and sound. After much discussion, a few arguments, a lot of equipment being packed and even the baking of a large, iced cake, the gang was finally ready. Our Wing Leader Ginger announces to her group that it's go time; dimwitted Wool Specialist Babs makes a comic reply that to relieve Ginger that she went before they left. Not that kind of 'go', Babs 🤣.

Phase 1 of the plan contained the element of surprise 😲. Ginger, Mac, Bunty and Babs hid behind the bushes and placed the iced cake on top of a clockwork trolley. The trolley was sent trundling up to the entrance gate. A patrolling guard noticed the trolley with the cake coming towards the gate and came up for a closer look. After the guard took one taste of the cake and blew out the candle, Ginger burst out the cake and handcuffed the guard to a bundle of fireworks. You heard of the Trojan Horse 🐴. Here's a Trojan Cake 🎂. The guard was dragged by the fireworks into the wooded area and slammed into a tree. Bunty cut the chain from the guard's wrist and the fireworks flew up into the air, exploding into a beautiful colorful display. The fireworks distracted another guard inside the facility who was in charge of the security cameras and screens.

Phase 2 of the operation was taking place overhead - the aerial invasion 🎈☁️. This was one of Fowler's specialties from his RAF days. After all, Fowler was the one who piloted the flying machine during the chickens' dramatic escape from Tweedy's Farm. Now he was flying something different - a balloon covered in cotton wool, disguised as a cloud. Fowler, Nick and Fetcher pedaled the balloon-cloud madly over the electric fence. As they floated along, they unwound a fishing line that they had attached to a tree outside. The crack team of cloud-pedallers landed on a security camera and Nick got out a Polaroid camera, taking a picture of the wooded area. It instantly printed out and Fetcher placed it in front of the camera lens. Now when the guard looked at the security screen, everything would look completely normal. The only problem was Fetcher had the photo the wrong way round. The guard stared at the screen in amazement and tapped it. Nick pointed out to Fetcher about the photo being upside down; Fetcher moved fast and turned it the right way up. The guard was happy again.

Ginger watched the whole thing down below. As soon as the picture was mounted, she signaled to the rest of the gang and they all rushed to the electric fence. Bunty pushed a rubber ring under the fence and pumped it up, opening up a chicken-sized gap. Ginger rushed them all through. She was the last one to dive under, then she punctured the ring to cover their tracks.

Next was Phase 3 - the underwater mission to cross the moat without being detected 🌊. The girls pulled on their scuba gear and did what the proper divers do - fall backwards into the water. Babs, however, didn't get it quite right. She fell backwards but in the wrong direction, landing on the bank instead 🤦‍♀️. A guard came past and almost spotted her, but the other chickens pulled Babs under the water in the nick of time. Together the girls swam underwater, avoiding the exploding robot ducks with laser eyes. Once out of the water on the other side of the moat, Mac and Bunty threw a grappling hook made from a coat hanger over a wall. Attached to the hook was a pair of elastic trouser braces. The chickens stretched the braces as far as they could and used them as a catapult to fling each of them over the wall. Everyone landed safely inside and hid behind a pillar. At the doorway, a guard was using the eye scanner to enter the building. Ginger watched him go inside, then led the way, skillfully parkouring to the doorway. The gang followed her, as stealthily as they could, across the courtyard.

Now Nick and Fetcher needed to take a photo for the eye scanner. They grabbed the camera and jumped out of the balloon, using an open umbrella as a parachute. They made a graceful landing right on the ground. Nick commented that it was a perfect landing, right on the button. On hearing the word "button", a confused Fetcher obediently pushed the umbrella button which snapped the umbrella shut on them both. The two blind rats stumbled around the courtyard, trying to get the closed umbrella off. Behind them a mechanical slot opened up and sucked the rats inside, just like what happened to Rocky the night before, leaving the camera on the ground in plain sight. Looks like the plan will have to be improvised.

Along came Mac and Ginger, their backs pressed against the wall. Mac saw the camera lying on the ground. Ginger dashed into the open courtyard and grabbed the camera just before a guard came around a corner. This was Ginger's chance! She hid in the shadows and whistled as the guard passed her. The guard stopped and peered into the darkness. Ginger took a flash picture of the guard's staring eyes, almost blinding him with the light and leaving him stumbling around. Ginger ran to the door and gave the photo to Mac. Mac fixed the photo to the end of an extendable tape measure and hoisted it up the reach the eye scanner.

Inside, the door guard looked at the eye picture through the scanner and checked it against her file labelled Staff Eye Pad. When she found the particular guard with the correct retina, she satisfyingly press a button to release the door and the chicken gang rushed in, too short for the camera to spot. The door guard looked puzzled; where was the guard? She went to the door and looked outside. Behind her, the gang sneaked through and hid behind as many cleaning supplies as they could carry. Finally, they had made it inside! 😄

Only Fowler was still outside. After Nick and Fetcher had floated down on the umbrella, the old sausage had continued to drift along in the cloud-balloon talking to himself. The balloon knocked against the mast where Fowler then attached it and landed. Our elderly rooster comments how this was a textbook landing. He steps onto the roof and spotting a nearby snail, settles down for a nice chat. Here we go again. More RAF stories from our favorite retired leading rooster 😒. What he doesn't see is that snail is trying to inch away from him while he goes on rambling 🐌.

[bxxth1ll]

Boothill, I've made good progress towards my next goal. I admire you, cowboy, for losing your body yet retaining your motion. I sacrificed much for my purpose- one of them being free motion. As adrift as I am through the oceanic cosmos, I move like a jellyfish- I can no longer control where I go, only allow the currents to take me. As it turns out, my favorite ranger- time isn't as… intangible as one might think. In fact, it can be synthesized- given the right environment and materials. I do not know when this letter will reach you. My work has caused some… side effects. Nothing out of calculations I assure you- but… some areas of my station seem to be aging more rapidly, rust nibbling at cracks and machines wearing down just a bit faster then usual… Yet, I must persist. I know I draw closer, and I must hold onto that. I have a question for you, cowboy. Would you, if given the chance and despite the risks, try to bring your homeworld back..? If not only for a moment, maybe two or four? Or as long as it would stay stable? Even if it could cost you your very existance? Love from six(seven, perhaps?) amber eras away, Saltwater 🌊 Strangely, the letter seemed a bit worn and yellowed and the polite cursive faded as if it had been aging away somewhere, despite having been made on what would be deemed new paper with new ink. Neverless, a faint scent of the ocean clung to its pages- of water, of small aquatic flowers and of a salty breeze.

Seawater,

Whateva ya goin' through, I hope this letter finds ya well. IF it ever does find ya, that is. But I hope that's the case. Don'cha dare be pushin' up daisies before this here letter gets ya.

If it cost me ev'rythin' I had to keep my fam'ly livin'.. Maybe I would. Jus' maybe. But I can't say that would ever happen. So for now, my main goal is to kill that shirtbag lurkin' 'round the IPC. Aeons know where he is.. But when I find him.. I'm sure to put him in a coffin'.

So s'long as he's alive, I ain't plannin' to sacrifice maself anytime soon. I wanna be the one to personally get him. I'd love to see his face when I shoot 'em.

Yer fav'rite Ranger,

Boothill

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Boys at The Beach ~ 1

Hazbin ~RadioApple+Static ~ 3.8 k

Part two will be explicit

this is completely a crack fic where Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox go to a beach upstairs in human form. And things get heated.

~~~~🌊~~~~

The devil himself adjust his rose-tinted sunglasses, a smile on his lips as he caught the demon sneaking something plastic and bright orange into one of their beach bags. 

“What’s that you’re packing, Voxy?” Lucifer asked, his voice lifting with amusement. “Those better not be real guns, we said this little day trip was going to be a truce between you and Alastor.” 

The television demon’s human form—tall, with oil black hair and a bluish scar from eye to hairline—straightened up at once. “Of course not, Your Majesty!” A smarmy grin plastered across his square-jawed face. “Just some harmless water pistols, for our beach day.”

Lucifer chuckled, running a hand through his golden hair. 

The idea of being up on Earth again, out under the warm sun with his peachy, human-like skin had him grinning. Nothing could sour his mood today. His bright yellow shirt hung open, patterned with cheerful blue ducklings, fluttered open as he continued gathering and conjuring things for their little outing. 

“I’m just, thoughtful like that.” Vox grinned that ass-kissing grin, as if he could apple-polish his way into Lucifer’s good graces. 

Lucifer looked the demon over, taking in his very 50’s swimmwear with its teal stripes, before shrugging and looking away—and watching the demon squirm as he tried to figure out what that meant. 

“Is there anything else you need me to pack, Your Majesty?” Vox asked, practically oozing subservience.

Lucifer waved a hand dismissively. “No, no. I think we have all the essentials. Cooler, beach blanket, towels... and your little surprise, of course.” He winked, causing Vox to shift uncomfortably as he tried to play it off and seemed to freeze whether he should wink back. 

Lucifer turned to the rest of the room in the Vee Tower, his hands resting on his hips and his swim trunks. “Now all we need is the resident killjoy.”

The angel just thought it was hilarious to push the two demons together and watch them scrabbled at each other like a pair of wet, angry kittens. 

They’d see how long the little truce lasted when the waves started rolling in. 

Vox slipped on a pair of mismatched sunglasses —one lens blue, the other red—and glanced around the room. “Speaking of which, where’s our dear Radio Demon? Wouldn’t want him to miss out on all the fun.”

As if on cue, a crackle of static filled the air, and Alastor materialized from a clot of shadow. His ever-present smile seemed strained, ears twitching slightly as he took in the scene. They lowered, maybe for a second when he saw the angel, then went rigid again as they landed on Vox. 

“There you are Alastor!” Lucifer’s face lit up. 

“Couldn’t miss it if I tried, My King,” Alastor replied, his voice dripping with barely concealed sarcasm. 

Vox’s grin widened, a hint of excitement dancing behind his mismatched lenses. “Well, well,” The demon drawled, “looks like someone didn’t get the memo about proper attire.”

“He’s right, you know. You’ll need to change into something more... beachy.” Lucifer nodded, eyeing Alastor’s usual dapper ensemble. “And more…humany.”

“Unless you want to give the mortals a real fright.”  Vox added, unable to resist needling his rival. 

Alastor’s smile tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yes, of course you were not joking about your quaint little jaunt upstairs.”he said, his tone honeyed but sharp. “I am certain it will be an absolute delight to frolic in the sand with Hell’s finest.”

Vox snickered, leaning in close to Alastor. “What’s the matter, deer? Afraid to show a little skin?”

“I do hope you get sand in your screen, picture box.” Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously, but his smile never wavered and he kept his voice low. Obviously trying not to burst the most powerful being in Hell’s bubble. 

With a dramatic sigh, Alastor snapped his fingers. Shadows swirled around him, obscuring his form from toes to antlers. 

Then they dissipated, a stunningly handsome human stood in his place. Warm brown skin, perfectly coiffed chestnut hair, and large, hazel eyes behind oval glasses—Alastor’s human form was breathtaking.

Vox’s jaw dropped, his cocky demeanor evaporating instantly. 

Alastor saw the angel snicker behind the television demon, who was openly ogling over the top of his glasses. 

Lucifer made a point of popping up from his beach supplies, his golden eyes sweeping over the Radio Demon’s outfit with a speculative “Hmm.” 

He knew what Alastor looked like as a human—he just wasn’t sure about the beach outfit. 

Lucifer glanced up from the beach supplies he was gathering, his eyes sweeping over Alastor’s chosen attire. The Radio Demon had opted for red shorts that hung past his knees, an open Hawaiian shirt with a swirling black and red pattern, and a tight black t-shirt underneath. Oval-shaped red-tinted sunglasses completed the look.

“Bambi, you are gonna burn up wearing all that to the beach.” Lucifer said, a touch of concern in his voice.

“I assure you, Your Majesty, I’m quite accustomed to burning in Hell. This will be positively refreshing by comparison.”

Lucifer shrugged, deciding it wasn’t worth pursuing. “Suit yourself,” he said, turning his attention to creating a shimmering portal into the human world. 

Vox, still trying to regain his composure, blinked as he said under his breath. “Did he…call you Bambi?”

Alastor lifted his head, his smile sharp-toothed and sinister—even in this form. 

“Try it, and I’ll rip your tongue out of your throat.” The Radio demon threatened in a purr, before putting on a much politer smile and going to help the angel with the collection of bags. 

Just before he stepped through the portal, Lucifer paused, putting a serious expression on his face. 

 “Remember, gentlemen, this is a private beach, but there may still be humans about. No powers, just in case. And absolutely no fighting. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Vox replied quickly,

Alastor nodded with a perfectly composed smile. “I will endeavor to keep things dreadfully drab.” 

With a final warning glance at his companions, Lucifer stepped through the portal. Beyond, a pristine white sandy beach stretched out before them, dotted with weathered driftwood and lapped by waves of the most brilliant teal-blue ocean.

~~~~🌊~~~~

The moment Lucifer’s feet touched the sand, he transformed into an exuberant child. “Oh, isn’t this marvelous?” he exclaimed, twirling with his duck-shaped inner tube. “I’ve missed the sun, and the sand, and the water!”

Alastor watched the angel scamper off towards the waves, and decided he’d much rather set up the beach blanket. And stay perfectly dry. 

The stretch of coastline was mercifully devoid of humans, though the openness of the area left Alastor feeling even more exposed than the vulnerability of being in a facsimile his old body. 

“I must say, Vox,” Alastor began, his voice dripping with faux pleasantness, “I was rather…surprised to hear you agreed to partake in such... frivolity?”

“What do you think? He’s the king of Hell.” Vox snorted, adjusting his mismatched sunglasses. 

“Of course,” Alastor gave a snide simper. “I should know you were the type—when Lucifer says ‘jump,’ you ask ‘how high?”

“Don’t play high and mighty with me, Radio Star.” The television demon groused. “You’re here to kiss ass too.”

Alastor scoffed, rolling his hazel eyes and keeping his perfect composure. 

“Gonna pretend you’re too good for it, old man?” A sly smirk spread across Vox’s face. “Or I am I just third wheeling on the King’s vacay with his boy toy?” 

Alastor’s smile became razor-sharp. “I will gladly turn you into a smoldering pile of circuit boards.” 

The other demon looked pointedly down to the surf, seeing the devil popping up from the teal water. And Alastor’s gaze followed. 

Right, they still had to play nice on the devil’s day trip.

“So there’s nothing to those juicy rumors about you and Lucy shacking up at that hotel of yours?” Vox taunted. 

Alastor’s smile remained fixed, though his eyes glinted dangerously. “Of course not,” he said, his voice tight as a bowstring.

Vox’s grin widened, sensing he’d struck a nerve. “Oh, come on now, Alastor. You can’t tell me you haven’t heard the gossip. It’s all over Hell!”

“Due to your own efforts, no doubt.”

“—You and our illustrious king, getting cozy at that joke of a hotel.” He leaned in, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Some folks are saying you’ve found a... creative way to climb the infernal ladder.”

Alastor’s fingers twitched, itching to summon his microphone staff. Though he forced himself to keep spreading out the big beach blanket. “Idle prattle,” he said through gritted teeth, “any rumors of that nature are entirely unfounded.”

Vox chuckled, clearly enjoying himself as he peered at the Radio Demon over his glasses. “I mean, I never believed them myself. After all, I know you don’t like people. And you’d never stoop so low as to suck up to the devil by actually sucking his—”

Alastor grabbed the nearby beach umbrella and swung it open directly into Vox’s face. The TV demon went sprawling backwards into the sand with a satisfying “oof!”

Just as Vox scrambled to his human feet, eyes blazing with fury, Lucifer reappeared. He clutched his duck floaty, oblivious to the tension. “Come on, you two! The water’s perfect!”

Vox, still glaring daggers at Alastor, forced a smile. “Sounds great, Your Majesty.”

Alastor, however, produced a worn paperback from one of the striped beach bags. “I think I’ll pass. My idea of beach time involves significantly less... submersion.”

To Alastor’s chagrin, the angel didn’t seem in a mood to take no for an answer. The petite blonde grabbed his ludicrous duck inflatable around his waist with one arm, and then wrapped his other with the Radio Demon’s. Tugging the brunette down. 

“C’mon Bambi, don’t be such a wet party blanket.” Lucifer pouted. 

“The saying is wet blanket.” Alastor corrected, stiffly. Not needing to glance sideways at Vox to know that Lucifer hanging off of his arms would do nothing to quell any gossip. 

But the angel was already looking around him at the other demon. 

“Hey Voxy! Give me a hand here.” 

Alastor tensed, suddenly regretting his decision to come to this infernal “beach day.”

“Yes sir!” The man’s eyes lit up with malicious glee. 

Before Alastor could retreat, Vox and Lucifer lunged forward, each grabbing one of his arms. The Radio Demon’s eyes flashed a dangerous crimson as they dragged him towards the lapping waves.

“Remember, no powers!” Vox taunted, his grip tightening. “King’s orders!”

Alastor’s perpetual smile strained as he struggled against their hold. “Unhand me this instant—”

His protest was cut short as Lucifer, still clutching his ridiculous duck floaty, leaped into an oncoming wave, pulling them all under. 

For a moment, there was nothing but the rush of water and the muffled sounds of splashing. And laughter. 

Alastor burst to the surface, sputtering and indignant. He flipped his now-soaked chestnut hair out of his face, glaring daggers at his tormentors. Though particularly at the black-haired human facade. 

The Radio Demon pulled a sharp elbow out of the glistening ocean, sinking it into the other demon’s gut—before shoving him into the surf. 

He considered holding his head under the oncoming wave. 

Lucifer, bobbing contentedly in his duck tube, let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, come now, Bambi! Did you really think you’d come to the beach and stay dry?”

Alastor dragged a salty breath through his flaring nostrils. He opened his mouth for a scathing retort, but paused, struck by a devious idea. 

“Of course not, sire.” Forcing his smile to soften, he reached up to push his wet hair back in a slow, deliberate motion.

 That wasn’t the plan, but he didn’t miss how both Vox and Lucifer’s eyes followed the movement, their expressions shifting ever-so-slightly.

“Well,” Alastor drawled, his voice low and smooth, “if I’m to be subjected to this nonsense, I might as well enjoy it.”

He placed his hands on Lucifer’s float, giving the blonde a winning smile—before his eyes flashed crimson, and he shoved with all his shadowy might, sending the King of Hell and his beloved duck tube sailing out towards deeper waters.

“Enjoy your swim, Your Majesty!” Alastor called out cheerfully. Then, without another word, he turned and strode back towards the shore, leaving a stunned Vox in his wake.

~~~~🌊~~~~

Alastor stretched out on his stomach, the warm sand beneath the beach blanket molding to his human form. The sun having finally dried him from the unexpected dip he took earlier. 

The Radio Demon propped himself up on his elbows, a dog-eared paperback splayed open before him. But his eyes kept drifting to the spectacle unfolding a few yards away.

Lucifer, resplendent even in garish swim trunks, was gesticulating wildly as he directed Vox in the construction of an elaborate sandcastle. The TV demon nodded eagerly at every suggestion, practically tripping over himself in his eagerness to please. And kiss-ass. 

“A bit higher on the north tower, my good man!” Lucifer called out, beaming. “We want this to be a fortress worthy of Hell itself!”

“Of course, my Lord! Your vision is unparalleled!”

Alastor’s lip curled in distaste. 

How transparent could one be? The Television demon might as well bend down and kiss the angel’s sandy toes. 

He forced his gaze back to his book, reminding himself that such sycophancy was beneath him. Vox’s clumsy pandering was more pointless than he knew. 

A bead of sweat trickled down Alastor’s neck. 

Sighing, he reached for the nearby cooler, fishing out a canned margarita with a grimace. Cheap and lazy, but the angel had a fondness for them. He popped the tab, the artificial lime scent wafting up as he took a reluctant sip. Passable, at least. 

Time passed, marked only by the turning of pages and the distant sound of waves. Alastor had almost managed to lose himself in his reading when a shadow fell across the text. 

And a familiar weight settled against his back, and he fought back a genuine smile.

“Must be one hell of a book.” Lucifer’s voice was light, playful.

Alastor tilted his head, meeting the fallen angel’s curious gaze, and covering the page with his long fingers. “Nothing that would interest you, Sire, I’m sure. Not nearly enough heaving bosoms or star-crossed lovers.”

 “You know me too well.” Lucifer chuckled, wriggling as he rested his shoulders against Alastor. His expression shifted, growing sly. “Speaking of obsession, have you noticed how the TV head can’t keep his eyes off of you? Human and all.”

Alastor arched an eyebrow.

“I mean, currently, not a TV head but you know—”

“Oh? You’re only just picking up on it now?” Alastor smirked, rolling his hazel eyes.  “And here I thought your powers of observation were sharper than that, my King.”

Lucifer laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Maybe I’m just slow on the uptake. But seriously, Al, it’s ridiculous how badly he wants to sleep with you. I’d bet  that’s the real reason he agreed to this little trip.”

Alastor’s thumb dog-eared his page, marking his spot as he looked up at Lucifer, who was still leaning casually against him. At some point, the angel had stolen his canned drink and was still sipping it. 

The Radio Demon’s voice was carefully neutral as he asked, “And is that a problem for you, my dear?”

 “Nah, it’s kind of funny, actually. Almost...kinda hot.” Lucifer shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up, a mixture of surprise and intrigue crossing his features. “Oh, really?”

Before either of them could elaborate on that tantalizing thread, a shadow fell over them both. Vox’s voice rang out, strained with forced joviality. “Well, don’t you two look cozy—room for one more?”

The TV demon barely managed to brush against Alastor’s shoulder before the Radio Demon’s form shimmered and dissolved into inky blackness. In the blink of an eye, Alastor reappeared a few feet away, standing on the edge of the blanket, and smoothing down his shirt with a smirk.

Vox stumbled, nearly face-planting into the sand. He righted himself, scowling. “Hey! That’s cheating, using your freaky shadow powers!”

“I didn’t see anything.” Lucifer shrugged, his eyes out on the waves. 

Alastor’s grin widened, all teeth and menace. “I don’t see any humans around to maintain appearances for, my dear fellow. Besides,” he added, voice dripping with false sweetness.

Vox’s fists clenched at his sides—looking like smoke was about to come out of his ears. 

Lucifer’s eyes lit up with sudden inspiration as he too popped up onto his feet. “Speaking of humans,” he said, reaching into his pocket, “We have to commemorate this little outing like the humans do.” He pulled out a sleek smartphone, waving it enticingly. “Come on, boys. Beach selfie time!”

Vox’s human face flickered with sudden wicked delight, smirking over at the Radio Demon. “I am so sorry Sire,” gesturing towards Alastor. “You can’t take pictures of the old fossil. He’s an ass like that.”

“Really?” Lucifer frowned, his brows pulling together as he looked over at Alastor. 

The hazel-eyed man gave a smug little shrug. “I can allow it, when I want to.” 

Vox seemed to sizzle under the baking sun, with poorly concealed envy. 

Alastor felt a flicker of amusement. Although,” he added, eyeing Lucifer’s diminutive stature, needling as the television demon never would be allowed, “I’ll have to positively contort myself to fit into frame with your vertical challenges, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, you think you’re real funny, don’t ya?” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed dangerously. 

In a flash, the fallen angel’s hand clamped down on the Radio Demon’s shoulder. With inhuman strength that never failed to send a secret thrill through Alastor, Lucifer yanked him down onto his knees in the sand.

Before he could protest, he felt Vox’s arms wrap around his middle, effectively pinning him in place. The sheer audacity nearly wiping the smile from his face. 

“There we go,” Lucifer crowed triumphantly, angling the phone to catch them all. “Say ‘freeze’ everyone!”

Alastor tried to keep his eye from twitching at the bastardized phrase. 

If he could figure out the damnable device, he’d delete that selfie—and a few choice others. 

“Are we quite finished?” Alastor huffed, extricating himself from the tangle of arms, and brushed off his shirts. “I’d like to get back to my reading.” 

 “Now, Alastor, enough lounging about. You’re at the beach! It’s time you participated in some proper seaside activities.” Vox chimed, with that simpering, brown-nosing tone. 

“He’s right Bambi!” Lucifer chirped. “What about, volleyball? Or Surfing?”

Alastor’s static-laced chuckle held a note of derision. “I assure you, Your Highness, I’m quite content as I am. The very notion of frolicking about like some overgrown child holds no appeal.”

“What about,” Vox interjected,  his smile flickering with sudden inspiration, “a water gun fight?”

Alastor paused, his perpetual grin widening almost imperceptibly. “A gun fight,” he smirked, “sounds positively delightful.”

Within minutes, the three were armed with garishly colored plastic water pistols. Alastor twirled the toy around one of his long fingers—he had no nosthalgia for killing with the real thing. Far too impersonal.

Vox’s face was lit up with a cocky grin. “Just don’t cry when I soak you, Radio Star.”

Lucifer looked at his own water gun with bemused confusion. “I’m not entirely sure I understand the appeal,” he muttered, fumbling with the trigger. 

Alastor chuckled somewhat fondly at the angel’s fumbling with a human-made weapon. 

“Well the appeal is fairly simple.” The smiling demon raised his eyebrows. “Like so.” 

Alastor pointed the nozzle directly at Vox’s nose, at point blank range, and pulled the trigger. 

The dark-haired man spluttered, no doubt swallow salt water. 

“Oh it’s on deer boy!”

As water began to fly, Alastor found himself grudgingly impressed by Vox’s aim. And his human form not nearly fast enough to duck and dodge every spurt. The television demon was proving to be a worthy adversary. 

Lucifer, on the other hand, was comically inept, resorting to using his beloved duck float as a makeshift shield.

“Having trouble, oh mighty King of Hell?” Alastor called out, avoiding a spray from Vox while returning fire. The fight had lead them into some of the driftwood along the sand. 

Lucifer’s indignant splutter only fueled Alastor’s amusement. This, might actually be enjoyable after all.

The beach became a battleground of flying water and raucous laughter. Alastor darted between pieces of sun-bleached driftwood, his keen eyes scanning for movement behind his red glasses.

 The thrill of the hunt, even in this muted form, sent a delicious shiver down his spine.

Suddenly, he collided with a solid form.

 Vox. 

 They’d both rounded the same massive tree trunk and tangle of roots. Instinct took over, and Alastor pressed the muzzle of his water pistol against the man’s forehead before either could blink.

“Well, well,” Alastor purred, his grin sharp and predatory. “What have we here?”

The human face that the television demon wore was utterly blank, until that slimy grin pulled back across his face. “Come on, Al. You wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man, would you?” He gestured to his own water gun, which had fallen to the sand in their collision.

The Radio Demon arched an eyebrow, and kicked the toy further away. Now this was a wonderfully familiar feeling. The power of wielding a weapon over an unarmed man that had cause him pain—oh how he missed the high of it. 

Alastor chuckled, low and dangerous, easily slipping into an old persona. “My dear Vox, I’ve done far worse for far less.” He lowered the gun, trailing it along Vox’s jaw before pressing it firmly beneath his chin, forcing the other to tilt his head back. 

His throat bobbed against Alastor’s fingers. 

“You know, ” Alastor continued, leaning in close, his voice a silky whisper, “I could end this little game right now. One squeeze of the trigger, and you’d be drenched. Defeated.” His eyes glittered with malicious delight. “I think I rather like having you at my mercy, don’t you…”

Vox’s face went blank as a busted television set. His digital mind reeling. Was Alastor... flirting? The Radio Demon’s voice dripped with charm and menace in equal measure, creating an intoxicating cocktail. The charisma of a serial killer. 

“I...I…” Vox started, finding himself at a rare loss for words.

Alastor’s grin widened impossibly. “Cat got your tongue, old pal?” He gave a low, spine-curling chuckle. 

Vox gabbed like a beached fish. 

“How…boring.”  Alastor tutted, before adding in a heart-stopping purr. “The fun ones at least try to beg.” 

Vox’s eyes went wide, pupils blown at the implication heavy in his rival’s tone. And the way the words twisted arousal in his gut. 

Without warning, he squeezed the trigger, sending a jet of cold water directly into Vox’s face and up his nose

As Vox spluttered, hands scrabbling across his face and his mouth full of seawater. 

Alastor’s laughter echoed across the beach as he rejoined Lucifer. 

[liu-shubao]

"I heard their final moments, calling their mentor in vain!" - Liu Er

🐉:AUGH!!

*She takes in shaky breaths that become haggard and in pain before collapsing to her knees.*

I-

*She winces and coughs.*

I...know you can't hear me...knowing her. B-But...knowing you, you'll find out and blame yourself.

*She takes another inhale, trying to gather what little strength she had left to force out these last few words from her tongue.*

...

Liu Er, none of it's your fault...You are my best friend and I...love you. I h-hope...you know that.

*Her eyelids get heavier and heavier before closing for the last time.*

🥀: P-Please, I don't want to die...

*Her voice cracks as her eyes begin to well with cold tears.*

I-I wanna see my parents.

*She feels herself getting colder and colder before becoming numb as she slips away.*

🌊: L-Liu Er! Can't you hear me?? I need help!! You were right about her! Now she's sent two demons to kill me! I've restrained the moth and I've reduced the other to seemingly sludge.

B-But I need your help, the moth injured me and I can't move all that well.

Where are you?? Are you lost somewhere? Are you hurt?

PLEASE Liu Er please hear me, I need help-

*...it rolls right off her shoulders and makes an ominous quiet thud when it hits the dirt ground, followed by the rest of her going limp.*

🏹: *She leans against the wall and sinks to the floor. The sound of fighting still rings around her but she seems unbothered, though she's clearly gravely injured from her voice sounds rough and was filled with small pauses and quiet groans.*

I've done it...it's finished. I won...

I know they'll want to kill and will say I'm the greater evil...but I don't care. I know I did what was right. That's all I need.

I'm not going to ask you to save me. You can't do that, it's not in your power. No, I just want you to take me back to my home. Don't worry about anything else, just leave me be. Let me become one with the grass.

*She almost slips into unconsciousness before snapping awake to mumble out one last key detail.*

And Hara...she's okay...take care of her...for me, my friend. Until...next time.

🪙: You...You! YOU!! Y-OU STUPID, ARROGANT, ASSHOLE!! JUST TAKE THE HINT AND DIE ALREADY OR AT LEAST LEAVE MY PRESENCE!

You are a FAILURE in every sense of the word and in everything you do!! As a demon! As a warrior! And ESPECIALLY as a mentor! If you REALLY cared you'd get out of my life!! Especially right now!

*He growled and raised his sword.*

Now...stay still sO I CAN KILL YOU-

*Something crashes through the wall at lightning speed and rams into Mingtao, there's the sound of a loud mix between a thick crunch and a gooey squish before it's replaced by the sound of scattering metal and a human body being rammed into the nearest wall and furniture.*

🐟: Don't be sad...Manyu is happy...Got everything I wanted...happy ending. Manyu can't wait to see friend again...

*The massive serpentine creature leans its off the bed frame by a few inches to further reach their friend before having to depart.*

Manyu...loves Liu Er. You are...my bestest friend ever...so smart...so ah-may-zing!

*Their glossy eyes seem to grow duller, their speech grows halted with small pauses as their volume dampens.*

Liu Er...hold Manyu...hold real close... and real tight. Manyu want...the biggest hug...there ever was ^^

🏴‍☠️: *A voice tries speaking out amongst a chorus of thunderous clouds and crashing waves, their head barely being able to stay above the rushing water. They're exasperated but almost seemingly happy.*

HaHAHAHA! I FIGURED IT ALL OUT! ME! THAT'S THE BEST PART! IT WASN'T THE ALL HEARING, ALL KNOWING SIX EARED MACAQUE! IT WAS ME!

Hahahaha, even if you kill me now. I win. Because if I can figure it out, someone will do the same eventually, and again, and again, and AGAIN! >:)

You've already lost. So go ahead, let me go down a legend.

*He lets out one last victorious laugh.*

Oh Liu Er I can't wait for you to hear this all someday.

*With that, a wave as tall as a moment crashed on him sending him into the inky dark depths of the sea along with his broken ship, never to be seen again.*

🧣: WHY!?

*He chokes out while he tries to cry but his body has no tears to shed. He lays on the ground while his limbs shake at keeping him up.*

WHY DON'T YOU CARE!? WHAT DID I DO WRONG?! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE T H I S!?!?

*He lets out another dry sob as his voice becomes gravely and almost crackled.*

Whyyyy??? Why can't I have ONE good thing? Why don't you care about me!? I was told I'd be cared for and loved!!

*His sadness shifts to anger as he screeches at him.*

But no...

Instead all you did was either hurt me or ignore me!! You made me a weapon! I wish I never met you!! I hate you!! I HATE YOU!!

*The angry and venom filled declarations of hate continued before dying off, with the sounds of weak sobbing replacing them entirely. They sounded almost like that of a weak, helpless child; crying for a home that they know they can never go back to.*

[boba-at-323]

Blue Waves 🌊

Note : Swore twice ig? || I did proof read but I don't trust myself so ignore any mistakes || I needed to get out of this writer's block and blue waves helped lowkey ! || Thank you for helping me out minnie!! ^_^

The ocean glistened under the blinding July sun. The warm sand slipped underneath your bare feet, and despite the blazing sun, the sand wasn’t hot enough to make your feet burn. The seagulls circled over the water, it seemed like they too, were enjoying the summer. 

The warm air coming from the sea's direction flowed through your hair and the white summer dress you wore: it was moist but it felt good. Eyes closed, you tried to take in the warmth and feel that summer vibe. However, your “main character” moment was ruined by loud laughter hitting your ears.

“You know you look so stupid right now” Chenle gasped for air as he found your relaxation wildly amusing.

“Chenle what the fuck is wrong with you,” You glared at him for stealing your spotlight, “At least I’m not hiding behind those big ass sun glasses.”

“I’m not hiding,” he scoffed dramatically, “it’s called protecting your eyes, y/n.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” you smiled at his usual exaggerated emotions, your eyes trailing back to the sea. 

“You know standing here would only burn your skin off,” Chenle’s irritating taunt pulled you back to him again. 

You huffed in annoyance and spoke up again with a raised eyebrow and folded arms, “Okay then Mr. Know-it-all, why don’t you suggest something we should do which will satisfy your high demands?” 

An offended expression painted itself on Chenle’s features. He tried to come up with another one of his cocky come-backs, but it seemed like his mind wasn’t deciding to cooperate with him because apparently it was taking him a bit too long to come up with something which would wipe away that smirk off your face. 

“I-” Before he got to finish his sentence, a blinding light took over Chenle’s vision, his hands going up to shield his eyes faster than his brain could send the signal. 

“Too slow” you tutted mockingly, shaking your head to emphasise your disappointment. Once getting used to the sunlight, he saw you twirling his sunglasses between your fingers. 

“Hey! Give that back!” Chenle reached out for his precious (not to mention expensive) sunglasses before you could cause them any damage. 

However, you weren’t planning on giving them back any time soon. Instead of letting him snatch the sunglasses from you, you hovered them over your head and take a few steps backward. 

“Gotta catch me first.” You giggled when you saw his bewildered, dumbfounded face, mouth agape due to the utter nonsense you were spewing out in front of him. 

The mere audacity. 

Sticking your tongue out at him, you let out another cackle and made a run for it, while an angry Chenle followed closely behind. Even though he seemed angry, he didn’t mind a bit because even he has to admit, spending time with you is his favourite thing in the whole world, after his sunglasses of course. 

Title : Blue Waves 🌊|| Word count: 482 || Genre: Crack ? Fluff ? || Pairing: Chenle x Fem!Reader (very bff au pt.2 ?)

Tagging : @armysantiny @mosviqu @jaehunnyy @riikiblr

[tokischaaaaa]

let me in 🌊

!xxxtentacion x !latina reader

warning! : fluff, cursing, weed, drowning, vomit

word count!: 2k

y/n —-> orange

jahseh —-> blue

jahseh was getting ready to go to bed, but then he got a buzz on his phone, it was y/n.

yo you awake?

yes but i’m abt to go to sleep

boo hoo, come with me to the beach

y/n recently found a place to stay right next to the beach, it was a motel but she mad it work. her new location of recidence allowed her to be more connected to the ocean and take reside in.

it took jahseh a few moments before replying, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t get caught and had a plan to get back, since he was put into his grandmas house for the time being until he could get his life together.

ok sure

YAYAYA! i’ll bring my speaker u bring the za pls pooki

bruh fine but stop calling me that dumb shit

okay pooki wtv u say 💋

jahseh sighed and put his phone down, he grabbed the nearest shirt to him and threw it on. he went to his cabinet and grabbed some already rolled up blunts.

he sneaked downstairs and opened the front door and hopped on his bike and started his route to y/n’s.

meanwhile y/n was getting ready, grabbing her speaker and her keys, but she was stopped once she got the notification that there would be some rain that was expected to come in 30 minutes

“shit,’ she hissed rubbing her forehead.

‘let’s hope it isn’t that hard and won’t ruin our night,’ y/n whispered to herself.

however this night was odd to her, since she loved going out at night and doing the simplest things , however jahseh was more kept to himself and almost never cracked jokes.

in their friend group jahseh was quiet but everyone else was aware that he had something special. y/n on the other hand was known to be the clown of the group, always to crack jokes or make someone spit water out of their mouth due to her clownery.

y/n was just so surprised that jah said yes, they hardly hung out alone but a few weeks ago they both spotted each other at a party. they both didn’t want to be there, but were forced to stay. y/n mustered up her courage and asked him to take a smoke break outside with her. he nodded and they sat in silence until jah said, “thanks,”

y/n replied with a simple

“you’re welcome.”

and there a odd yet interesting friendship sparked between the two of them. y/n couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t attracted to the quiet boy, his eyes were so haunting but that just provoked y/n to learn more about him.

yo i’m here, wya?

coming down, meet outside the lobby

jahseh put his phone back in his pocket and waited for y/n. as he waited he took one of the joints out and lit it, then took a deep inhale of the joint. he blinked a few times to adjust to the new feeling the weed gave him. when we was high he would become more relaxed and less uptight and a little more out of his shell.

“might as well catch up with y/n’s energy,” he chuckled.

“what about y/n?” she said appearing in front of jahseh.

“na that I already took a hit because you always got mad energy whenever wherever you go.” jahseh said pointing at her speaker.

“touche, but like if there ain’t no y/n ain’t no party.” she giggled.

“yeah right,” jahseh said rolling his eyes.

“whatever boy, let’s go.” y/n said as she turned on her speaker and connected it to her phone.

y/n assumed jahseh was walking at the same pace as her but as she turned around she saw jahseh staring at her ass.

“jahseh!” she groaned approaching him lightly grabbing his ear.

“owww, mamas please i didn’t mean to it was the weed.” he cried.

“yeah right, keep walking.” she sighed.

to be fair, y/n had on a black sports bra and black shorts, though they weren’t a lot they were enough to protect her from the flordia humidity especially at this hour.

as jahseh caught up to y/n he couldn’t help but wrap one of his arms around y/n as a lead to keep him from tripping or falling behind.

y/n was taken aback from this action but then remembered jah was high and the last thing she wanted was for him to have a bad trip and something bad happen.

as they were walking, not in silence since y/n already started playing music, y/n moved jah’s arm to her shoulder to be draped.

jah on the other hand was feeling a little devious and decided to play with the strap of y/n’s bra strap.

“jah wait till we get situated at the beach,” y/n whined, she tried to keep her act up of acting like she was not screaming inside. inside she was CRUSHINGGG hard, she knew jah was flirty since he definitely had a record of being a player but this part of jahseh she’d never heard of or seen.

“okay mamas,” he said as he slapped y/n’s ass.

that was the turn off for y/n, he was getting wayyyy too comfortable.

“jahseh! no, you gotta get it together, you’re acting like your white girl wasted right now!” y/n screamed slapping jahseh’s chest.

jah blinked a few times before he could register what had happened,

“shit y/n, i’m sorry, im overdoing the weed. it’s just i’m tired of being so uptight.”

y/n decided to stay quiet and hear what was on jahseh’s mind which led him to slap her ass.

“it’s just, since that night of the party there was something up. like you saw me being in my head, and you brought me out of there. i know i do a lot of small talk and i know it can get annoying. but you still decided to hang out with me. i didn’t ask, and i don’t know if i gave any signs to a second time to hang out, but you took the initiative.”

“jah what are you trying to say?”

“i’ve never met someone like you y/n, i wanna stick by you and learn about you, everyone in my life have either been mad negative or just plain jane’s. you’re different.”

“jahseh spit it out.”

jahseh then litterly spit out something in his throat

“jahseh, wtf not litterly.” y/n groaned.

“i like you y/n.” jahseh screamed as he then ran into the ocean.

y/n dropped the speaker on the sand and the towels she had in her hands and jumped to grab jahseh.

as she ran to jahseh he already was in the water and basically drowning.

“shit jahseh!” y/n yelled getting a hold of him by the shoulder. as y/n pulled him to the sand he wasn’t moving, she slapped his face and began to do cpr. as she went to do mouth to mouth to him she backed up and saw his eyes open. he then turned to the side and hurled.

“let it out, it’s okay.” y/n said patting his back.

“oh my fucking god, what just happened y/n.” jahseh said between burps.

“you told me you liked me, jumped in the water then drowned.” y/n said with a weak smile.

“oh,” jahseh said rubbing his head.

“yeah, i think we can do beach another day maybe when you don’t abuse tf out of the blunt.” y/n chirped flicking jah’s neck.

“ow y/n!”

“what do you mean beach another day?” jah asked.

“you’re too fucked, and i can’t deal with rescuing you again.”

“but i don’t wanna go yet.”

“wanna head back to my room?” y/n proposed

“yes!” jahseh yelled

“jah you are like actually a crazy high.” y/n laughed.

“so, you seem to like it, you’re laughing.” jahseh said in a dorky voice.

she smiled then grabbed his hand and led him to her room, she hoped that he forgot he confessed his feelings to her. she couldn’t tell if he was serious and knew that he wouldn’t say this sober she she rather not push it.

“y/n, your quiet.” jahseh said

“yeah, just focused on getting you upstairs.” y/n said scanning her card to unlock the elevator.

“yea right. you’re just speechless cuz i’m so handsome.” jahseh said, and as y/n looked at him he struck a pose.

“im just so in awe by you jahseh.” y/n said rolling her eyes.

“i knew it! now give me a kiss!” jahseh said puckering out his lips.

y/n put her hand on his lips and took his hand and led him to her room.

“jah sit on the bed, ima see if i have some water for you.” y/n said looking unfer her bed.

as she looked up with a bottle in her hand she saw jahseh looking at her with his dark eyes.

“you never said anything after i told you i liked you.” jahseh said in a dark tone.

y/n was frozen, “umm, because you ran into the ocean.”

“yea but you didn’t do anything.”

“jahseh why are you bringing this up?”

“because i like you y/n, let me in. i know im a quiet but trust me ill open up to you, i need you, don’t you get that?” jahseh asked with his glass eyes.

y/n rose from the floor and sat next to jahseh on the bed, “jah i would but im scared, you have a history of playing games.”

“yeah that’s the past though, i promise you y/n. i’ll do anything. mamas i will buy you roses everyday, i’ll do anything.” jahseh said leaving kisses on y/n’s neck as he begged for her to let him in.

“i dunno jahseh,” she moaned as his kisses got deeper.

“you do know.” jahseh in a deep tone, pressing his lips onto y/n’s. she fell back onto the bed and so did jahseh, their lips still connected to each other. as jahseh expected she didn’t stop kissing him, he put his arms around her body, giving a quick squeeze to her ass.

“jah, enough with my ass.” y/n hissed as she started kissing on his neck.

“you know i love that culo tho mami,” he smiled.

y/n lightly blushed, hoping jah couldn’t tell but he did.

“you know you love it when i touch it too, ain’t no body do it like me mamas.” he said into the crook of her neck.

his hot breath made y/n’s throat close up. she put her hands behind jah’s neck and played with the back of his head, pulling it closer to her face.

“jah don’t fuck this up.” she said as a tear escaped her eye.

jah looked at her and cooed, “oh y/n, i won’t i promise you, you’re a rare one, very rare. i’ll never hurt you, just praise you ma.” he said wrapping his arms around her waist.

as they held each other closely, y/n felt jahseh put his chin on her head.

“jah, i want you to be yourself without the weed tho.” y/n admitted.

“i know ma, i will i just needed it this time to get out of my pussyness.” jah said playing with a strand of y/n’s hair.

“okay baby,” y/n said looking at jah now, looking deep into his narrow eyes.

“why you look at me like that ma?” jah asked getting closer to y/n’s eyes.

“because you’re so handsome.” y/n smiled.

“i know,” jahseh smiled then put his free hand on his hip.

“boy bye,” y/n said getting up trying to get some water.

“where you going ma?” jahseh whined as he grabbed y/n’s waist and pulled her back to the bed.

“no where now.” y/n smiled giving jahseh a kiss on his nose.

“that’s what i thought.” jahseh grinned with the face of success.

“i’m glad you let me in ma,”

“me too jah.”

tokischaaaaa speaks: so this is new for me sooo umm yea

[awritingcaitlin]

💥Find the Word Tag Game

@sentfromwolves tagged me for the words Crack, Creak, Crunch, Crave, and Click.

Tagging: @turnips-creates, @runeseaks, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @circa-specturgia, and @juls-writes

Your words are: dread, night, energy, hope, trap

I'll do snippets from Siege under the cut, since it's the first WIP I found that had all the words. (Crave is apparently not one I use often??)

💤CRAVE(D)

It was the most dreadful fog. Rinnie would wake up for what seemed like microseconds before drifting back into a terrible abyss of nothing. She thought about how nice it was to sleep and her body craved it.

She fought it. She wasn’t supposed to be sleeping.

When she was at last able to throw it off, she heard the Priestess swear something. Rinnie elbowed the man carrying her in the temple and they both dropped to the ground. He tried to subdue her, but she shimmied away quicker. She noted exactly how close they were to the edge of the docks. She fearfully realized she was trapped.

There was a gunshot. Rinnie covered her head, already on the ground.

The shot wasn’t meant for her anyway.

.

🌕CRUNCH

Perhaps it was only the night, but the place seemed so temporary. The oldness of the buildings inside the Wall was not present here. Everything was made of wood, brick, and cheap metals. It smelled of fish and sewer. If it were daytime, Rinnie supposed she could imagine the place bustling with workers—fishermen, traders, merchants, the like.

But right now, everything was so lonely and empty.

She came across a water bucket sitting against a building. There was enough light from the moons to provide Rinnie the ability to see her reflection. Her face was bruised and scratched. Her nose was crooked, and her eyes both blackened. The sea had washed the blood away. Also her hair was significantly shorter in spots, like it had been burned off.

Gritting her teeth, she reached up and braced her nose between her fingertips, then wrenched. With a crunch, her nose went back to where it was supposed to be. Rinnie gasped in pain, despite having known it was coming.

She put her face in her hands and willed the bones to re-fuse and the blood vessels to do likewise. It was hard, not being able to see the work. But she could feel, more or less, what needed to be done.

.

🌊CRACK(ING)

“Sheesh, we don’t get tomorrow off, do we?” Rinnie asked, wiping sweat from her brow.

“I can give everyone stamina shots!” Mica exclaimed, sounding excited by the prospect.

“No thanks, Mica,” Riela said flatly. “I’d rather get my energy the normal way.”

“I find a good morning swim wakes me right up,” Killian said, cracking his knuckles.

“Hmm,” Rinnie mused. “I might just join you.”  The thought of swimming was invigorating on its own.

.

💼CLICK(ED)

“We’d made a good life here,” Thea said. “Hopefully we can come back soon.”

“It wouldn’t be the first home we’ve left.”

Thea shrugged. “I know. But I can dream a little.”

Behind her, her trunk clicked shut. Cael stood up straighter. Thea closed her eyes and straightened her own spine as well. It was time to move.

“Let’s ward the house,” she said.

.

🏫CREAK(ED)

Still, he couldn’t help but think about traps. He’d grown up as an academic, not a hunter. But many of his friends had grown up that way and a phrase they liked to use kept popping into his mind: driving prey.

Killian led the squads to the center of the school complex. They stuck to the walls, not wanting to expose themselves in the open courtyard. The swings on the swing set creaked eerily in between the sounds of gunfire. It became unfortunately clear the maps on the wall had been drawn to be easy to look at, not to scale. If they’d been to scale, they’d’ve reached the stairs sooner.

The crack of a rifle bullet as it struck the wall less than an inch from Adler’s nose and peppered his face with plaster flakes reminded him that no plan, no matter how well or hastily conceived, ever survived contact with the enemy. Adler’s body threw itself backwards of its own accord and out of the line of fire of a Nid who’d fired at point-blank range with a sniper rifle.

The Nids already had control over the courtyard.

“We can’t turn back,” Killian said. “They’ll have us surrounded.”

[hitlikehammers]

After The Storm (Steddie Pirate AU)

(you guys totally made it through the storm fine, right? no issues, all good?)

🌊Under the Water (Our Hearts Will Dream Again)🌊

Chapter Seven: As Offering or Mercy

ONE // TWO // THREE // FOUR // FIVE // SIX // FINAL CHAPTER on 7 April 🌊

also on ao3

In the days that follow, only two things remain constant.

The first is perhaps most obvious, most inescapable: Eddie Munson is, in the aftermath, no more than the shell of a man, hollow and barren, though the prices of him meant to be hollow, to fill with air and blood and bring life to the whole of him—those hollow parts are leaden, now. The chambers of his heart struggle endless, the expanse of his lungs shriveled; calcified.

He wishes both would just…give up the ghost already. The rest of him’s managed it well enough.

The crew somehow pried him from Steve’s body the night of the attack; Eddie doesn’t remember. The next thing he does recall is stumbling onto the deck again to see the last of the bloodstains being scrubbed away, no bodies in sight and panicking, where was Steve, where had he gone—

A burial at sea, of course. But Eddie…Eddie had come undone.

He’d screamed and lashed and…and he doesn’t recall what all he’d said or done but he knows they don’t bother thinking, his crewmates. They leave him to his hollowness within the quarters that were Steve’s. That were theirs, together. They either respect his space, or expect him to rot.

Either is…sufficient.

The second constant, though, are the questions. Because he is silent, winnowed to only bones he can’t comprehend as still possessing the capacity to stand, to hold weight and move, until he does both and leans dependent at the edge of the shop in the dark and asks whatever listens, in the water or beyond:

“Was I,” he croaks; the first time in particular; they’re the first words he didn’t speak over Steve’s body, and then scream for the faceless loss of even that; “did I disrespect you?”

He addresses the Sea; thinks he’s doing the closest thing to offering prayer, or maybe the opposite of prayer—more that he thinks he’s speaking to the closest thing he’s ever felt to a deity; divinity as understood in Eddie’s frame of comprehension.

At least: how he understood it, before he knew Steve’s touch.

There is no reply.

“Was I,” he clears his throat the next time; it grates like glass, to no avail; “was I selfish?” And he shakes his head and feels faint for it, for so much more than it too—feels like he may fall, his body finally processing the message that he is finished, and he may simply tumble into the Waves: where he gave his heart first.

Where they threw his heart last.

“What did I do,” he asks but in truth he begs, and the barest spark in him left sees fit to flare, and almost try to demand; “was wanting him like,” he licks his lips, cracked and bloody, iron against the salt on the breeze that’s not comfort here, now, where always it was: it mocks him.

It tastes like Steve.

“Was wanting him an offense to the universe, to the gods themselves, if there are any?” He barely huffs the question, cannot laugh, no capacity for it left in him; “or whatever’s out there instead of them, if they’re a lie?”

He suspects they’re a lie. He hopes they are. He doesn’t want to believe in a cosmos as callous as this by design. With intent.

And of course there are no answers. It makes him fear a little, for the inherent heartlessness of the universe.

“Was loving him a sin, like,” he gasps the next time, In the very depths of the night; “can I sin if I don’t believe in what I’m sinning against but if I can and if I did,” he babbles, rough and breathless, manic as he pants;

“Was being with him, someone like me just, presuming I could,” he shakes his head, and then can’t seem to stop as he rails hoarse and shaky against the ship’s wake;

“Was simply holding him a desecration, did I defile him by default?” Eddie feels sick for the thought, for the seed of the idea planted in his head. “Was it an insult on, on some level deeper than,” and he looks out into the endless shift of waves and asks it, this thing that was once unthinkable:

“Deeper maybe even than You,” he addresses the Ocean, this thing that he’s loved, he asks one love to explain the loss of another:

“Was it a violation, somehow of something I couldn’t know, merely to think that I deserved to love him?”

He doesn’t wait for any answer before he tries to defend himself because:

“Not even to be returned, not,” Eddie’s voice catches, and his tears sting on the wind; “I never expected it back, not from someone,” he shakes his head, and almost doesn’t mind the way the words choke; he wouldn’t mind these being the last truths he speaks; “he was beautiful but not just his face, his,” and he shakes his head; swallows; swallows—his pulse is mallet in his throat and by every hid and devil he wishes it would burst forth and finally drain him dry—there is not pain in it that could outstrip what consumes him as a rule.

“I’d never seen the shade of his eyes. I’ve never felt magic like it could be real, until he looked at me and then,” Eddie’s chest flutters, a vivacious reminder of what he had and lost and then clenches, back to the present truth:

“Then he touched me, just the once, just the first time and—”

Eddie falls, that night, to his knees. It’s been weeks, by now. He doesn’t know how long he sobs.

He doesn’t know how he gets back to the bed that was theirs, where he wakes only to sob harder.

It takes him more days than it should to return to the edge of the ship, but then; he’s mostly lost track of time. It has no real meaning.

“Was it a test?” he whispers, tone flat and eyes dim, any color in the stars washed out entire; “If so it was foolish, and not on my part,” he accuses, maybe for the first time, the whole of the Sea he trusted for so long, with so much, because—

“I was never strong enough not to fall for that,” he doesn’t even argue, just states the fact for what it is: unquestionable. “No one could be, but,” and Eddie’s throat closes, his pulse feels faint and he wonders if he’s staring it down, finally, finally: an end. A release from this kind of hurting.

But no. Not yet.

“His heart was,” Eddie’s words find him without thinking; his blood trips and he lifts a hand to rub his chest, the stutter like a reminder alongside the roil in his stomach as he amends: “is,” because that was the last he had of Steve. To be given his heart.

And Eddie, for punishment or restitution or something else entire: Eddie gave his heart to Steve, but possesses a beat in his breast here, still.

So Steve’s heart is, not was.

“It is goodness,” Eddie declares to the night sky, to the Sea almost in defiance; “it is all-consuming, it is the thing people treat like revelation, that once you know it you can’t breathe the same again,” and even in his devastation, Eddie cannot help but marvel because—

“It moves mountains and, and,” he shakes his head, seeks the right words; “it’s power, isn’t it, it’s the like life itself, but wielded to, to,” and Eddie’s breath escapes him, and he brings his other hand to his chest, too, presses there and the beat should be heavy and frantic and flooded with all of Eddie’s heartbreak but maybe the broken part of the concept itself is what wins out: it’s unsteady, but it’s constant. It’s wispy, somehow; like the slow push of low tide.

“It’s almost cruel that even like this,” Eddie cups the beats between his hands against his chest; “even when it isn’t mighty enough, powerful enough to, to,” even when it’s a fledgling thing, like a baby bird, it is strong enough Eddie wants to praise the impossible, inexplicable strength of this heart, of all that Steve still is, that he left behind in Eddie, deserving or otherwise—but there’s so much of him that wants to break more for it, because why must it be enough to keep him in his world, when, when—

“Was I not allowed to love him?” Eddie murmurs, tears streaming without relent; “Was I not allowed to love him alongside you?” he demands of the Sea, almost hysterical before he dares speak it, dares mouth it to the breeze:

“Above you?”

He clutches to the wood of the gunwale until it splinters his skin, lets the weak push of his own blood pool against his flesh.

“I would give everything to have him back,” he barely breathes, watches the blood on his pale palms as they tremble; he is weak, he knows this. He barely eats. He does not brave the day.

“But if even you can’t give me that,” he doesn’t know what prompts him this night, after so many nights, too many nights without: he doesn’t know but he presses the blood-stained hand to his heart, Steve’s heart, the fluttering bird in his chest and heaves a sob as he begs, bargains:

“Take it from me as an offering,” he speaks it clearer, plainer, truer than his voice has managed in ages; “either as an exchange for him, or a,” his voice cracks but he clenches his teeth, his jaw;

“Or else as a mercy,” Eddie whispers, but it’s fierce; “take it from me so it can no longer torment me, and let me lie with him in the depths.”

He’s clutching his chest, he cannot look down to his bloodstained shirt because he knows he will only see Steve, see him at the end and he can’t, he simply can’t—

A pressure curls around his hand, upon his chest—if a hand were cool and wet as a rule, before being solid underneath, it would be a hand, too. Maybe it is.

He looks down, braves the memory: it’s a hand. It’s not flesh colored, or else not entirely, like it’s only shaded in three-fourths the way it’s meant to be.

It is stronger, though, than any three-fourths grip has the right to be.

“Please stop trying to give me your heart,” a voice murmurs, close to his ear and Eddie’s hollowness is taking hold, it seems, emptying his mind of reason because: that voice.

That voice—

“You mortals rather need those,” the hand presses harder than a whole hand should be capable, at least that Eddie’s ever known, but it feels as if the beat below rises to the pressure somehow, some way; “and I happen to be singularly fond of you, so,” the hand taps his chest, something almost playful but far more instructive, chiding even:

“Keep that in here, please.”

And Eddie’s pulse should be a torrent, now, or else a scared bird’s wings fluttering, terrified to fall but: no.

No; everything in Eddie’s body is running circles, frantic and confused, heartsick and panicked and beyond reason: but his heartbeat when he listens, for the first time since his heart was lost—

When he listens, his heart is a mirror of the waves: the same tempo.

The same quiet might.

He slips one hand away from his chest and dares to cover the watery touch, test its solidity: it holds. Eddie gasps.

It turns; laces their fingers: Eddie knows the fit of that hand.

Eddie knows that touch.

He turns, and braves to be undone by the final fracturing of his sanity for wanting too hard.

But there stands…something not quite human. Eddie heard the words in the voice he loves just moments before—you mortals—and if the hair is part kelp and coral, the shape and sweep is the same. If the eyes are nearly translucent, they are no less drawn from the wellsprings of the flame where sunset meets the surf. If the frame of him seems malleable, it is not lesser for the give and flow: it is greater.

Eddie gapes, marvels: it cannot be.

But this, this: this otherworldly being, wreathed in power and beauty and wonder and a tangible regality, a palpable sense of a thing that exceeds Eddie’s comprehension, save to feel reverent, worshipful, grateful beyond expression in its presence—

This being inspires those feelings for something like divinity among legends, but at the same time, the same feelings for a desperate love in a heart Eddie’s starting to feel the beat of in his chest as something other than an albatross, or a noose.

More like a miracle.

“Keep this safe here, please,” Steve—because no matter the changes Eddie knows beyond doubt or question this is his Steve—Steve’s hand flattens full against Eddie’s chest and holds there like he needs to impress his desire as more accurately a need, then he glances up through lashes just as long and languid but more intangible, like a sunburst caught on the water.

Eddie swallows, not daring to blink, and Steve’s growing more flesh colored, more solid with every breath Eddie gasps in awe before he cups Eddie’s cheek and Eddie nearly comes undone; he’d lost that, he’d believed with the whole of him that he’d lost this forever and how, then, how is it here now—

He nearly comes undone for it; only nearly though.

Because the words Steve speaks to him next do the job entire.

“Keep this here,” Steve says once more with his hand to Eddie’s heart but…if a voice can hold the tides then his does, bears their strength and endlessness, before they disperse and it’s just the gentle hum of Steve when he adds, somehow stronger, somehow more:

“Unless, of course, you truly mean to give it.”

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

divider credits here & here & here & here

🌊ao3 link here

[theviceadmiralswife]

Alignment fever chapter 1 part 1

Salute recruits and soldiers to this moaning Monday🌊⚓🌊⚓🌊⚓🌊⚓🌊⚓🌊⚓🌊

Today I spoil you all with the first chapter of a Vice admiral Dalmatian x reader fanfic. Because of restrictions on word count i have to split it in 3 posts, you can also always vist my blog for every other part. So cuddle in fluffy blanket and enjoy this story of the furry vice admiral.

Alignment Fever

chapter 1 fated to meet in heat

Dalmatian the zoan vice admiral looks up as the door opens “what do you want?”, he softly growls as he had just got back from being on the seas. Marineford was hit by a heatwave like none other before and Dalmatian didn't like this at all. Y/n entered the office, she was a short somewhat curvy women, nice curves, half his size shoulder long strawberry blonde wavy hair tight into a bun, the woman was wearing a HQ kitchen uniform, one of the new servers or cooks no doubt. "Hello vice admiral Dalmatian , y/n here I've been ordered to bring refreshments to all higher officers and vice admirals, would you like some cold water?", she says in a friendly professional tone as not to disturb the vice admiral for too long, y/n cracks a small smile. “Oh hello, y/n was it?, yes yes sure… desk please and… if you could leave now Id appreciate it.”, he waved his hand not looking up from his paperwork, but he could hear her footsteps as she got the water and brought it to him. polite and professional she placed ice cold water in a jug and a glass on his desk carefully: "Yes sir, Sorry just bringing water to everyone in this heatwave orders of the head chef she's very strict". as y/n placed the water on his desk as she did her scent hit his nostrils a mixture between perfume and hormone and pheromones, Dalmatian recognised the scent as heat, but he was taken aback by the fact that it was so powerful almost intoxicating. He watched her do this as he felt his heart rate go up slightly and his tail slightly wagging up and down, he took a huge sip of water it was refreshing indeed, but her smell remained in heat. "I'm glad you like to be offered water.", she said that noticing his tail wagging. He realized it was wagging and it stopped immediately as he blushed slightly: “I ah- uh- uh- I- just, thank you.”. She blushes a bit her face going red, it was obvious like everyone else she was suffering from the heatwave, but Dalmatian knew this woman was also in her heat cycle she was hot for more then just the weather reason. Dalmatians tail started wagging faster flicking with desire. She needed a mate and he wondered about if she had a mate already then it would soon be time to do it, very soon, but then again she was pure human….. Y/n blushes even more as she seemed to be entranced by Dalmatians tail and for a moment time stood still. "Here !", Dalamatian refilled his glass of water and handed it to y/n , " Drink your hot too!". He hoped that this wouldn't be taken the wrong way by her. "Oh sir, I possibly couldn't drink your water..", y/n replied blushing even harder now, this heatwave was a drag but in uniform she found it to be unbearable, feeling like she was sweating every second. y/n being so flustered made her scent of heat all the more intoxicating to Dalmatian , pulling and enticing his instincts to surface. He stood up from his desk, towering with his large frame over y/n , she smells SO good to him his pupils dilated, his tail started to flick some more. " No I insist have a glass of water you must work hard bringing water to us all on this floor!", Dalmatian said with as much confidence as he could muster, speaking became incredibly hard. y/n drank the water in a few gulps she was feeling feverish for a while now and thought the heatwave got to her really badly, she was happy and grateful for a bit of kindness shown by the large vice admiral. Dalmatian watched as she closed her eyes and drank the water every image of her drinking called out to his primal nature, her scent how she moved, how she sounded, how she looked.