#I have a hard time watching small children in every sense LMAO

[sixish]

Ahh sorry, I meant your gilf rights hat was showing very proudly and open, not that it had been taken away (*´▽｀*)

I totally understand where you're coming from with the whole "style" thing though. I watch most shows with my mother who prefers cartoons over anything else on television (she's not very sociable and it's easier for her to watch fictional people than real ones （；￣︶￣）) So a lot of the times, I go out of my way to find shows to watch with her so I guess my taste in media kind of leans more towards shows that have that young demographic (although, I'm still young, just not in the exact age range for the target audience I guess 〜(￣▽￣〜))

hhh It's just kind of odd to talk about because there's the on going belief that cartoons are for children and it's that awkward dance of "That's not inherently true, it's just a lot of animation skews to a younger audience!" and "This show was definitely made with an audience younger than me in mind and since I'm older now, it feels uncomfortable to place myself amongst a fanbase like this, it should be their own." （；￣︶￣）I just try to stay quiet in my corner.

She-Ra, Centaurworld, and Castlevania sort of stand out because they are the most recent shows that bridge that gap but otherwise it's just kind of feeling weird for enjoying cartoons so much??

Anime is a different bag of beans （；￣ー￣）you sort of have to pick and choose pretty carefully with it.

。(⌒∇⌒。) I also enjoy talking with you and Carly.

Oh!! Whew I thought my gilf rights were being revoked. In my defense… have you seen that Eda art 😔

Ah I see, that’s interesting! Most older folks I know hate animation for some reason lol. Jeez I feel that awkward dance. You should be able to watch whatever you want without feeling weird about it! I do sort of avoid the fan base if they’re generally younger tho. Gotta give em their own space

I haven’t seen Centaurworld but I know She-Ra was made to be able to be enjoyed by older audiences too and Castlevania/Blood of Zeus is definitely adult animation. You shouldn’t feel weird enjoying cartoons otherwise tho, it’s just a different form of art/media! And everyone has different preferences on what they like to consume, you know?

Anime… my beloathed beloved…

[baddiedaddy7]

𝗦𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗜𝗻 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘀🦴❤️‍🩹

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

some ppl with these placements actually look younger than their age. but then some look like moms/dads when they’re like in their teens lmao. well built cheekbones. dominant jawline, and splendid smile usually. pale for their race. a lot of hair usually(cher has this lol). ppl may not find you approachable, since you may have rbf. overawing, and sphinxlike vibes. alert with their surroundings. can be kind. you may be harsh on yourself, and may not give yourself credit. since saturn rules restrictions, and 1st house expressions, you may be introverted/shy/reserved.

celebrities:Princess Diana, Britney Spears, John Lennon, Kevin Hart

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

don’t play when it comes to clothes, cars, houses, materials in general, and their finances/money. makes smart money moves. may get rich/have luck in the business world when they’re older(like 40s, and up). unpretentious. may like to collect things, and go to antique shops. may like “old” or “vintage” items. may stress over money, and may be cheap tbh. may wear ties a lot lol. i think of businessmen/women for this placement since that may be how you dress. you may also wear clothes that don’t draw much attention, and you may not even wear name brand clothes that often. may like soft smells/smells that aren’t too strong(flower essential oils, vanilla, etc). may love or hate coffee, green veggies, starches, alcohol, and salty food in general. may not like to let ppl borrow things/may be stingy(saturn=restrict, 2nd=money/materials)

celebrities:Ariana Grande, Jennifer Lawrence, Prince, Kanye West

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

laid back way of talking. i feel like they would have a “demanding” or maybe deep voice lmao. takes school seriously. may be shy when it comes to talking to classmates, or just reserved. probably just sees school to help get a career, and not to make friends. siblings may have capricorn/saturn in their chart. you may be the oldest sibling, or the most reliable. you may be stern, and overprotective with siblings. might have a harsh relationship w/siblings, and neigbors. may isolate from the community. most likely dislikes speaking in front of many ppl/doing presentations. usually respectful.

celebrities:Kylie Jenner, Bjork, Jim Carrey, Steve Jobs

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

scared of vulnerability, may get disappointed when trying to lean on others, because they are not of much help. daddy/mommy issues(more of daddy tbh), or abandonment issues. may worry a lot abt ppl they love. has it hard in the beginning of life, but makes it to the top. life gets better, but childhood was most likely hard. worried abt finances as a kid when they shouldn’t have, may not have gotten a lot of attention as a kid, and one of the parents or maybe both were workaholics. one parent or both parents may be strict/cold. just needs a lot of affection🥺. may be grateful that their childhood was rough, since it made them a better person. might be an only child. family most likely is traditional and/or religious, maybe too conventional. these ppl are warm yet cold(if that makes sense lmaoo). intelligent more often than not.

celebrities:Marilyn Monroe, Madonna, Tom Cruise, Drake

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝙵𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

probably doesn’t know how to let loose, and have a good time! most likely doesn’t want many kids, and/or may have kids in their 30’s+. will most likely make sure they’re financially stable before having kids. may be a wall hugger at parties/just chill on the corner. serious/doesn’t play games, reliable, loyal, and honest in the dating world. children may have capricorn/saturn in their chart(esp the first child). wants the best for their kids. may be strict, and may need to try being more open minded when it comes to parenting. hobbies may be sleeping, reading, working, planning, studying/researching, etc. may like to visit old fashioned places(museums, antique shops, etc). solemn aura. may lose virginity later than usual.

celebrities:Shakira, Dua Lipa, Jim Morrison, Heath Ledger

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝚂𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

try getting out your comfort zone, every once in awhile. most likely has a routine. judgemental with co-workers. watches health, very closely. may work too much. pets should be independent baddies, and mysterious(so cats mainly, or reptiles). you’re inventive. remember it’s okay to take a break, and do nothing useful at all :)

celebrities:Lady Gaga, Adele, Jimi Hendrix, Eddie Murphy

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

attracts capricorn’s/ppl with a lot of saturn in their chart easily. may date someone much older or younger, age difference will be significant. may start dating/get a first love later than others. positive:attracts reliable, loyal, secure, and has their priorities straight ppl. at worst you attract:boring, stern, harsh, cold, materialistic, ppl. this could apply to your friends too btw, not just lovers. you need to make sure you set rules for your relationships, and make sure your standards are at a good level. another good thing abt this placement is you’re more likely to have long lasting, and stable relationships. you may fear rejection, but you jeee to learn that it’s okay and it happens to everyone.

celebrities:Selena Gomez, Jennifer Lopez, Kurt Cobain, Johnny Depp

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

either has sex a lot young or old no in between. may have a period where they don’t have sex at all for awhile. may become spiritual later on. may get into astrology later on also lol. most likely will die of old age/naturally. cynical. men here may be small(ifyk what i mean), but you can also last a good amount of time in bed. may actually be good at sex, bc saturn means trying to be the best at something/success lol. fears death(i feel like these ppl fear more of what happens after death, not death itself).

celebrities:Khole Kardashian, Renee Zellweger, Elton John, Dwayne Johnson

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

luck, and fortune happens in your 30s+. may be closed minded, but may become more open minded as they grow. may be conservative. but may also be an atheist tbh. may want to major in business, become a lawyer, major in finances, etc. hard headed, but clear sighted. may not be a fan of traveling, or may not have many chances to until their older.

celebrities:Rihanna, Julia Roberts, Paul Mccartney, Charlie Chaplin

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

reputation may be that you are a no nonsense, hard working, logical, reliable, and loyal person. may have known what you wanted to be for a long time. you may have a job associated with your family/a tradition. afraid of not succeeding. ceo, judge, teacher, engineer, lawyer, businessman/woman may be a job of yours. you may overwork yourself, take a day off to just relax. may start working later in their 30s. ambitious

celebrities:Kim Kardashian, Oprah Winfrey, Chris Evans, Michael Jackson

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

may attract friends/ppl that crush on you that have capricorn/saturn in their chart. may have friends for a very long time. may become more of a social butterfly/make friends more often in their 30s+. at first, you may hate socializing, and picky with who their friends with/won’t just befriend anyone. the reliable friend, will always be there for you, and loyal(or these might be the traits of your friends). doesn’t have time for fake friends. you will stand for your friends or they’ll stand up for you. honestly you may be one of those ppl that say they’re “born in the wrong generation” lmao. may not relate to ppl your age.

celebrities:Cameron Diaz, Demi Moore, Elon Musk, Robin Williams

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

taps into spirituality in their 30s+. may deny spirituality for awhile, and their intuition. don’t deny your gut feelings, and your energies baby :). your past life may have been rough. i’ve heard that jail may have happened for individuals with this placement in their past lives. you may go through hardship, before getting living a good and easy life. may be regretful for no good reason. need to work on expressing yourself emotionally, and not bottling up how you feel. maybe try to express your feelings in a creative way(music, art, poetry, etc).

celebrities:Beyoncé, Angelina Jolie, Will Smith, Robert De Niro

[bratkook]

sick entertainment. (m) kth

pairing. hitman!taehyung x hitman!reader genre. smut, pwp warnings. mentions of guns, slight depictions of violence/murder, they’re both hitmen please don’t read if whats mentioned is triggering, they make some dark jokes (they’re sick okay lmao) smut in forms of: oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, choking, dirty talk but its all playful despite it all hehe word count. 6.3k note. this is a request based off #85 off this prompt list (now closed) thank you for sending this in! 🖤 also uh….this may become a series, in which case, consider this a saucy prologue that gives you a glimpse into tae/oc’s...interesting... relationship

The slamming of the door makes Taehyung cock his eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across his face as he mindlessly watches the television, his ears listening to the way your feet stomp on the concrete floors of the loft, no doubt a trail of fire following your path. A laugh is begging to make its way out of him, chest trembling from holding it in because he knows he’s in deep shit, he’d known it the second he had interfered. 

Blame it on his playful personality, or maybe his need of meddling in business that very clearly wasn’t his, either way the second he heard the name of the next target you were assigned he knew he had to make a game out of it. Is it sick, or twisted? Maybe, but the man was a well known scumbag, a slimey wannabe mobster that has far too many hits out for him it’s a shock he still has a pulse, well had considering you were back now. 

Like every single assignment, he knew this one wouldn’t be missed, wouldn’t even have a news report made on him. It was the main reason why you were able to get away with it all, despite the police showing up for investigations whenever any unlucky bystander stumbled upon their body, they never seemed to dive deeper into who did it. They didn’t have to, they weren’t stupid, knowing not to bite the hand that fed them. 

As long as they continued to get a small portion of cash funneled into their department and you all continued to wipe out the low lives that made their job so hard, then there really was no crime committed. 

Namjoon called it transactional, but Taehyung called it boring. He liked it messy, enjoyed the thrill of it all, the possibility of not getting away with it, and with the help of police it took that all away from him. 

You knew he was up to no good, the gleam in his eyes when you had mentioned who you were hitting next spelled it out for you. Knowing Taehyung like the back of your hand made you wary, accustomed to the way his brain worked like a minefield, he was someone you had to watch from a distance and analyze before deciding your next move. 

“Welcome home honey.” Taehyung sings out playfully when he senses you getting closer, that same smile plastered on his face as he turns to face you, only getting wider when he notices the shiny black gun in your palm, one that actually belonged to him. It wasn’t your usual choice, something you no doubt swiped from its hiding spot when you came in, but you couldn’t exactly conceal the sniper you had used an hour prior enough to make it undetected in your hands on your way to your apartment. 

He knew it was currently disassembled and tucked into your backpack as you chucked it aside and marched your way over to him, hand clenched around the grip of his Ruger with murder so evident in your eyes. Taehyung doesn’t think you’ve ever looked cuter, even as you raise it up towards his chest once you close the distance between you. 

“You’re on thin ice Taehyung,” you laugh as you round the couch, standing directly in front of his sitting form, still casually sunken against the cushions as if you weren’t aiming for his heart. “You really think Namjoon’s going to let you come back if I tell him you’re playing games with my targets?”

Your boyfriend sighs at that, a roll of his eyes being sent your way as he drops his head to rest along the back of the couch with a groan. He didn’t need you to remind him of his current standing with Namjoon, knowing fully well that he had crossed a line by smashing that random man’s face into the fancy bar counter for simply looking at you. It wasn’t fair really, had he taken the time to get to know the guy he would have realized just how high up that random man was in terms of connections, but Taehyung could blame his tunnel vision for cutting the introductions short. 

Like you said, his brain was a minefield, one wrong step was all it took before his fingers were tangling into the poor man’s hair and connecting his face with the wooden counter. He wasn’t even sure what set him off, the edges of his sight blurring together as he wrapped his fingers around his throat, pulling out the small gun he always had tucked away with him, pressing the muzzle against his temple and laughing maniacally as the man tried to pry his hands off of him. 

He liked to keep things exciting, but unfortunately for him that excitement ended up costing Namjoon far too much in order to keep Taehyung from being thrown into jail, which would have arguably been a lot better than being stuck on what could be considered probation, no longer able to work unless Namjoon deemed it acceptable. 

“Children shouldn’t play with guns.” Taehyung mocks, hoping to distract you while his eyes stayed glued to the end of the barrel, following it as you inched it closer with a wicked smile on your face. He knew he was on thin ice, nearly ruining your shot, potentially resulting in the target escaping because of his stupid game. That wasn’t too big of an issue, the chase made it fun some times, but considering this target had a bigger money sign tacked onto their back there would be no way you could let a fuck up slide. 

He smiles still, lips curling up and showing his teeth as he focuses on your face now, seeing the way you look at him. You had those crazy eyes he loved to see, full of adrenaline, body still buzzing from earlier, analyzing his every move as you tuck the end of the cold barrel under his chin and slowly cock the safety back with a soft click. 

“Who said I was playing?”

The small flash of excitement sparks in his eyes as you dig the muzzle into his skin, his mouth dropping open as he breathes out a laugh, his large palm coming to clutch around your own, urging the gun further into his skin. 

“Do it,” he taunts, guiding your fingers to slide over the trigger, floating off of it as you observe him. 

“I should’ve done it the second I saw you leaving that bastards apartment” you threaten, remembering the rage you had felt when you witnessed your boyfriend exit the complex and look directly up at the building across from him, knowing you would be perched on the ledge with your gun aimed at the window as you waited. The childlike wave he had sent you from the ground made you want to change your aim towards him, the urge to pull the trigger only increasing when he sent you a simple text telling you to enjoy the chase. 

That was the first push of the domino that sent everything collapsing and as you peeked through the window and saw your target frantically packing a bag as he looked around you couldn’t stop the flash of annoyance from flaring inside of you. It didn’t take much guessing to figure out that Taehyung had notified him that his head was on the line and now he was going to try to run. 

It was supposed to be a clean job, it was the main reason you preferred to use a sniper instead of the slightly more intimate methods used by the others, all you had to do was disassemble your Sako and get yourself off whatever ledge you were on and that was it, job completed. Anticipating a chase was not something you thought would happen today but the second he began to shove clothes into some random bag you knew you were losing your window of opportunity. 

“How far did he get?” Taehyung laughs, eyes full of mischief as you glare at him, that tiny smirk on your face giving you away, showing him just how amused you were at his antics despite the gun pressed against his skin

“The stairwell.” You knew the layout of his building well enough to know exactly what exit route he would take, beginning the chase Taehyung had been so eager to start. Having to get down from your spot and somehow beat him before he left his apartment was too far fetched, but catching him before he exited the complex completely was the only thing that kept you from admitting defeat. 

Your heart continues to rapidly beat in your chest as you recall it, how your lungs had burned as you took the stairs two at a time once you managed to get inside the complex, nearly ramming into your target as he rounded the stairwell in his haste to leave undetected. 

Had it not been for his already set paranoia he would have simply shoved you aside, not expecting a girl to be the one in charge of taking him out, but the second he spots the unhinged look in your face, the way your eyes glimmer when you realize you caught him, he knows it's too late to run. Thankfully for you, he accepted his fate pretty easily after that. 

“Did you leave a mess?” 

“I couldn’t use my Sako you asshole.”

Taehyung laughs freely now, his other hand coming to scoop around your waist and pull you closer, your thighs slotting between his. If you couldn’t use your precious Sako he knew you were pissed, hence the gun to his throat. There was nothing you hated more than having to come in close contact with whoever you were meant to kill, you weren’t a fan of the bargaining they tried to make with you, not particularly enjoying seeing their face as you pressed the suppressor of your Beretta between their eyes before you pulled the trigger. 

“Is that why you’re so trigger happy right now?” He’s taunting you, biting his lip as he smiles up at you, eyes widening slightly as you gingerly place your finger on the trigger. “C’mon, teach me a lesson. Shoot me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. 

The second the last word leaves his mouth, your finger presses down on the trigger, the brief moment of shock is painted across his face when he hears the click, eyes squinting when he expects the searing pain that was sure to follow but it never came. In a blink of an eye his hands are expertly releasing the magazine of his Ruger, letting it fall into his grip as he brings it close to really check to see that it was in fact empty, something you no doubt did the second you entered the loft. 

Your joyous laughter fills the air instantly, dropping the gun from its position as you lose yourself in the giggles that escape you. “You should have seen your face.”

Taehyung continues to stare at the empty magazine, looking up at you incredulously, the beginning of a smile once again gracing his face at the pure shock that you actually pulled the trigger. “You were gonna fucking shoot me.”

“Oh please, like I’d ever shoot you–“

“You have!” He remarks, snatching the gun from your grasp and sliding the magazine back into place, remembering the time you gave him a warning shot to the shoulder the last time he tried to meddle in your business. Sure you might have just grazed his skin but a trigger was still pulled. 

Taehyung chuckles when you plop onto the couch next to him, body still trembling with laughter as you wipe underneath your eyes for any stray tears. “Don’t tell me to shoot you if you don’t actually want me to”

“You’re a psycho,” he jests, tossing the gun safely aside as he faces you, seeing the oh so innocent smile on your lips. 

“Don’t act so surprised.” He’s not, knowing you were two peas in a pod, just the right amount of crazy to level each other out, if any more was added to either of you there would no doubt be actual shots fired. It worked though, a nice balance between you that allowed the relationship to go on as long as it has. 

“You’d never actually do it,” he sighs, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, smug with the fact that you would never actually hurt him. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Would I?” A teasing laugh fills the air as your hand glides up his chest, fingers trailing towards his neck until they curl around his skin, feeling the rhythmic pulsing of his heart. When your fingers tighten around his neck he chuckles, the vibrations felt against your palm. 

The arm slung around your shoulder slides down to your back, scooping you over until you’re settling onto his thighs in his favorite position, a mischievous glint to his eyes flashing when you look at him.  “You definitely would baby, who else would be here to drive you crazy like I do?” His deep voice pulls you in, dripping from his tongue in a manner that makes you want to lean forward and savor every drop. 

“Should we find out?”

Taehyung just drops his head back once more, a cynical lift to his lips when you bring up your second hand to wrap around his thick neck, fingers digging further into his skin. “Please, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You’re sick,” you laugh out, squealing when his hands tighten their grip around your waist, his head leveling out as he stares at you with that same glint in his eyes. 

“I know I am, but you like it.” A gasp leaves your mouth as he slides you further up his lap, clothed core pressing into the slowly growing bulge in his pants. “Don’t act like I forgot the little stunt you pulled this morning.” 

Flashes of this morning play in your mind, the way you had teased him the minute he woke up and felt his cock pressed against you. You couldn’t help yourself when you rolled on top of him, kissing and biting his neck while you slowly rolled your hips above him. Taehyung honestly isn’t complaining about it, who wouldn’t love starting their morning off with their girlfriend so hell bent on making them cum.

The only downside of it all was the fact that you actually hadn’t made him cum, leaving him high and dry with an evil laugh as you rolled back off of him and went about your morning as if you hadn’t just committed an awful crime. That may be the reason Taehyung was so insistent on making your assignment tonight a fun little game for the two of you to play and now that that was done and over with he could finally have you on top of him just like this morning.

“You’re telling me you don’t like when I play games with you?” He huffs out a laugh at the teasing kick to your voice, a sinful smile on your lips as you allow him to unzip your sweater, tugging the loose material off your body to reveal the simple black shirt you wore underneath.

“That wasn’t a game, it was torture.” His words are muffled as he leans forward, lips pressing kisses into your skin, breath fanning out and sending tingles down your spine. It was funny how he could pick and choose what was classified as a game, the earlier antics he caused seeming more like torture than you grinding on him at the crack of dawn but you’d let him believe it.

The hold you have on his neck loosens, your arms spreading out to allow him to slip the sweater off of you entirely, large palms now coming to roam over the small sliver of exposed skin that peeked out under the hem of your shirt. “You know what would be so hot?” His cold fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as he inches the material up, little by little, revealing your belly button, the edge of your bra coming next as you hum in question. 

“If you ever wore some hot ass latex or leather on the job.” He groans unabashedly at the thought of you in a tight leather corset, boobs accentuated as it hugged your skin. Maybe you’d wear a cute little garter with your Beretta tucked into it, or one of those adorable daggers you had grown so fond of recently. 

It might be a wet dream of his but you just snort at the thought, not being able to imagine yourself getting a decent shot with something so restrictive on, god forbid Taehyung decided to play another game of cat and mouse you’re not so sure a leather corset would hold as you chased your target. 

“That's so impractical, I’ll do it for you here though.” That appeases him, a smug smile on his lips as he continues to pull up your shirt, taking his time as if he was unwrapping his favorite present. With your red bra fully revealed he sighs in appreciation, tossing the shirt aside without a care to fully admire you. 

His hands cup over your bra, thumbs gently tracing the swell of your breasts before giving a rough squeeze that makes you breathe out a laugh. “Will you really?” He questions, keeping a good hold on you as he flips you over, flat on your back with your head resting by the armrest of the couch. Your elbows hold you up as you smile at him, dazed as you watch him tug up his grey shirt and throw it off to the side. 

“Yeah, only if you buy that cute maid costume I found and wear it for me.” Taehyung doesn’t even think twice before agreeing, stomach tensing up as your fingers trace along his skin, circling around the random scars that litter his body from close encounters and senseless fights. They serve as physical reminders of your boyfriend’s careless behavior, that minefield mentality making the worst decisions possible in the name of getting a quick thrill. You follow them up until you reach the tiny scar you were responsible for on his shoulder, shallow and faded to a lighter tan now that it was healed.

“I told you, you’re trigger happy.” His hand grasps your own, bringing it back down to the couch as he chuckles. “I think you’re a danger to society Y/N.” 

“Hm, am I?” Your voice drawls out as you stretch out, enjoying the way he watches you like a predator would his prey, sharp eyes hyper focused on your every move and you swear he can hear how your heart races in your chest. When he simply hums in response, nimble fingers beginning to unbutton your jeans, you can only giggle and help him as best as you can, lifting your hips and pulling your legs until the tight material has joined the growing pile on the floor.

Taehyung slots between your thighs with ease now, hands digging into the sofa as he holds himself up and leans forward to kiss you once more. His breath is felt on your face as he groans at the taste of you, forever loving the feeling of your lips on his, an endless craving he would never get over. You taste like your favorite chapstick, sweet like candy, and when his tongue peeks out to get a better dose you breathe his name out in a sigh that sounds like music to his ears.

Resting his weight on his knees, his hands are set on their mission, palms sliding underneath you until they reach the back clasp of your bra, expertly unhooking it until it snaps against your skin. A playful laugh is passed between your mouths as he does so, his teeth gently nipping at your lips before he begins his descent. Sloppy kisses are pressed along your jaw as he pulls the straps of your garment down your arms and lets it fall onto the floor.

As he reaches the juncture of your neck he takes a nice inhale, chuckling when he catches the hint of your sweet shampoo mixed with the metallic tang of gunpowder. “You smell like work–“

“Get off, I’m gonna shower!” You try to swat him off of you but he’s quick to grasp your hands, pinning them above your head, giving you a wicked smile as he stares down at you, loving the way your nose twitches in anger at being held down by his arms and hips. 

So cute. 

“No, I finally have you right where I want you.”

“Is that so?” Taehyung chooses not to answer you as he starts to continue the trail of kisses down your neck, grabbing both wrists in one hand as his other trails down your chest. The ticklish feeling leaves you fidgeting around as he grabs a handful of your tits, squeezing the flesh before slowly circling around your nipple until it hardens at the sensation. The wet path of kisses passes your collarbones, soft smacks of his lips on your skin as he nears your neglected breast, kisses around the swell of them in a teasing way.

When he finally envelopes your other nipple into his mouth you gasp, arching your back to push more of you into his mouth, feeling the vibrating hum against your skin as his tongue flicks around your areola. Tingles shoot up your spine as he pinches your nipple in his fingers, pinching and rolling the bud between his grasp, the feeling of his sharp teeth press into your skin when he smiles at the way you react to his touch, soft moans flowing past your lips the longer he teases you.

With a slight pop, he releases your nipple, a satisfied laugh hitting the air when he sees the way it’s covered in a sheen of his saliva, rising and falling with each of your breaths. His palm still holds your hands hostage but as you fidget in his grasp he releases them, allowing you to tangle your fingers in his hair, yanking at the soft tufts of dark brown until you were content.

“So this is right where you want me?”

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah,” he leans up and kisses you once more before trailing down your body, your hands still tangled in his hair as he descends in the same fashion as before, an endless trail of smooches down your ribs, across your torso and around your belly button. The final kisses are pressed into your hips as his fingers hook into the band of your underwear, pulling the waistband of your matching red thong up at the sides and letting it snap against your skin like an annoying child, snickering at the sound it makes. 

When you nudge your knee against his sides he stops fooling around, finally yanking them down your thighs, gingerly unhooking them from around your feets to be forgotten entirely now that he stares down at your exposed pussy. A smile graces his face at the sight, folds wet and glistening, already messy in a way he couldn’t resist as he glides his face against your inner thighs. “This is where I want you.”

Your fingers twirl around his hair as he messily kisses around your lower lips, eyes falling shut as you focus on each touch on your body, the brief nudge of his nose, the had press of his lips and finally, the cool sensation of his saliva as he licks a broad stripe up your slit, tongue collecting the drips of your arousal. 

“Fuck, Taehyung.” It comes out as a mewl, head dropping back in awe when he repeats the motion, tongue slipping through your folds, the tip of it meeting your clit in a small jolt that leaves you breathless. He could do this all day, feel each stinging pull on his scalp that accompanies each flick of his tongue, your cries of pleasure only increasing when he spreads your folds apart and dives in with new set determination.

The messy smacks and slurps blend in with your choked breath, mingling in between each gasped syllable that make up his name, pleas of more that he can’t deny. Soft lips wrap around your sensitive nub, sucking gently in a way he knows you love, spelled out by your thighs spreading further apart, hips rutting into his face in desperation.

These deliberate flicks against your bundle of nerves are set to tease, proven when he stops altogether with an evil smile, your arousal coating his chin but he doesn’t mind it, revelling in the harsh yank you deliver to his hair at his stopping.

“Baby has a temper, it sucks to be teased huh?” Taehyung’s words are spoken through a smirk, mouth dropped open as he laughs carelessly, head pulled back by your hold on his hair. The cute pout on your lips doesn’t look threatening in the least, not when he can see just how close you are to falling apart, the subtle twitch of your thighs being telling enough.

“I promise, I’ll never do that again. Just make me cum, please.” His eyes glimmer now, teeth biting down on his lower lip when you guide him back down to your swollen lips, wet with a mixture of your arousal and his spit.

“Deal.” Without wasting another second, his lips are back on you, long fingers joining in as he circles your entrance, slowly easing their way inside in a familiar stretch that makes you arch your back. He smiles against you as he feels the tight ring of muscles wrapped around him, the soft walls of your pussy felt along his fingertips as he curves his digits inside of you, not content until you’re gasping above him as he tickles along your gspot.

“K-keep doing that.” You beg him, mouth dropping open as another moan spills out when he does as you ask, fingers pumping into you, rubbing along your sweet patch as his tongue continues to ravish you, circling and sucking on your clit to give you the release you crave.

“Ah, fuck I’m close.”

Taehyung holds in his laugh as your feet slide along the top of the couch, searching for some leverage as you lose yourself in the feeling. The grip you have on his hair tightens as you near your release, body set alight with each thrust of his fingers, eyes screwed shut as you savor it all. He can feel the way your walls squeeze his fingers, leaving his cock hard in his jeans when he thinks of the way your walls will feel around him next.

With a final flick against your clit you’re shouting out his name, flashes of light sparking behind your closed lids as your body tenses up, limbs rendered useless as the wave of your climax washes over you. Taehyung always loved the way your bones turned into jello when the pleasure rocked through you, fingers losing their grip and thighs flopping onto the couch when he pulled away, face looking entirely satisfied by your reaction.

“That was exactly how I wanted you.” A messy kiss is placed onto your hip once more, leaving a wet spot in its wake that can be attributed to the remnants of your orgasm coating his lips.

“Yeah, you know how I want you?” you pant, giggling when his kisses turn ticklish, eyes looking up at you in question. “Fucking me so hard I forget I’m still mad at you.”

Oh, he could do that no problem. 

It’s almost comical how quickly he’s able to get out of his jeans and underwear, his hand wrapping around his cock as he kneels onto the couch again. A smile spreads along his lips when he takes note of the look on your face as you stare at him, eyes following his hand as he lazily pumps his length. 

There's pure mischief in your eyes, a tiny devil on your shoulder that cheers at the prospect of you getting what you want, thighs spreading further apart in invitation for him. Taehyung presses his lips together as his thumb rolls over the tip of his cock, smearing the beads of precum around the swollen head before giving himself a gentle squeeze as he inches forward. 

It feels like time stands still as you watch with bated breath when he guides his cock to your entrance, a gasp slipping through your lips when he slaps the head of his cock against your sensitive clit, enjoying the small shudder that courses through your body with a discreet laugh.

“Taehyung,” you whine, rutting your hips up impatiently for him to hurry up. He finds pleasure in this though, his constant need to play games with you out ruling anything else.

“What?” He probes, smiling at you as if he didn’t have his dick inches from entering you.

“Fuck me, c’mon.” Your words trail off as his tip presses against you, slowly breaching your entrance in a familiar stretch that leaves your mind spinning. Taehyung can’t even get himself to make a sly remark like he always does, tease you about how messy you were before he even properly fucked you, no his head is wiped out of any witty comment, only able to focus on how amazing you feel around him. 

“Shit,” he gasps out, sliding into you with ease from how wet you were, the slick coating your thighs and dripping down onto the couch beneath you. You find comfort in the feeling of his hands sliding up your thighs as he bottoms out, fingers gripping onto your hips so tightly it dimples your skin, holding you still before sliding back out of you in a wet squelch. Taehyung can’t get himself to look away at the visual, how his cock shines in the light, coated in the strings of your arousal.

A choked moan reaches his ears the second he starts to thrust into you, hands keeping you still to prevent you from sliding around from the quick pace he knows you love. Your own hands scramble to reach down, fingers wrapping around his arms to ground yourself as he snaps his hips into you, the laughter mixing with delighted moans letting him know he wasn’t being too rough. No you would never think that, wanting nothing more than to let Taehyung have his way with you, hips knocking into yours with each rock, the head of his cock kissing your cervix in a dull throb that left your nerves on edge.

“Just like that,” you mewl, his attention dragging away from your soaked cunt, looking up at you and seeing the dazed expression on your face. Seeing you like this definitely topped the adorable way you had held a gun to his chest, broken down and vulnerable all because of him. It was a privilege he didn’t take lightly, allowed to see you in a light he knew others hadn’t.

“Fuck you feel so good, so warm,” his words are spoken quietly, almost like a train of thought that hadn’t meant to escape but he means them, completely lost in the way your walls flutter around him, each pulse leaving him grunting in ecstasy. 

“You’re right,” you start with a laugh, “I would miss you”

That grabs his attention, hips never slowing as he tilts his head in curiosity. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, no one else could fuck me as good as you do.” He chuckles at that, looking down at you and seeing the evil glint in your eyes as you smile, voice as sweet as honey when you ask him, “Would you miss me?”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully at your question, eyes falling shut when you clench around him on purpose, a teasing laugh leaving your lips as his mind blanks momentarily. “I don’t know, should we find out?” He mocks your earlier phrase as he trails his own hand up your body to your neck, large palm easily wrapping around it. He’s no stranger to the flash of excitement on your face, having grown used to the way you’d beg him to choke you so often it was like second nature now.

Call it sick but it made your brain turn into mush, made you abandon all dignity whenever he wrapped his hands around you. Maybe it should instill a sense of fear into you, knowing those same hands had done so much harm to others, the countless times they’ve been wrapped around other targets with the intent to kill. The soft glimmer in his eyes settles any thoughts before you can even have them, the twisted version of love spelled out in the curl of his lips as he asks if this is okay comforts you because you know he’ll never actually hurt you. 

“Tighter,” you mumble out, smirking when he listens, fingers pressing into your skin deliciously. The minute his hands are properly wrapped around you its like your body is lit up, every nerve ending spazzing out, allowing you to feel the pleasure tenfold as his cock continues to fuck you. Each obscene squelch of his cock mixed with the added feeling of him grinding into your clit makes your brain go fuzzy, your legs wrapping around his waist in an effort to keep him closer.

Taehyung knew you loved to be choked, loved to feel the pounding of your blood rushing through your ears, the way the edges of your vision would fade out, his own face speckled in black as the feeling spread. His eyes never leave yours, amazement displayed in them at seeing you fall apart, your small hand laying on top of his in a sense of security. Your chest rises and falls with each breath, the moans and cries only getting softer as your orgasm approaches you, eyes threatening to close.

He knows the signs too well, waiting for the right moment and just before he knows you’ll cum he releases your throat, the sudden rush of unrestricted blood flow pushing you over the edge and intensifying the feeling. It’s evident in the way you gush around his cock, body tensing as your climax crashes through you, your arms desperately clinging onto him as he fucks you through it, soft hushes and whispers pressed into your skin as he kisses you gently. 

Your mind wipes out entirely, eyes screwed shut as you come down, body buzzing with sensitivity as you ooze around his cock, leaving an unholy mess beneath you. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” He groans out, the desperate cries and soft mewls of his name are what finally push him over, spilling into you in ribbons of white, rutting his hips a few more times before stilling altogether, panting above you with sweat coating his hairline.

“I’d miss you too.” He mumbles out with a shy smile, gently brushing away the stray hairs from your face as you try to catch your breath. His face looks soft now, almost squishy as his cheeks puff out, it was hard to believe that was the face of a killer.

“Hmm, certified psycho Kim Taehyung goes soft for his girlfriend, who should I notify?” 

He snorts at your retort, pulling out of you only to flop on top of you without a care in the world, nuzzling his face into your hair because he secretly loved the smell of your shampoo mixed with the gunpowder he had teased you about earlier. “Maybe the FBI, I’m pretty sure they’d love to know the name of any accomplice.”

“I’m not your accomplice.”

“Right my bad, they think I work alone.” He chuckles as he recounts the way the crooked cops had notified them of the FBI’s increased interest in Taehyung after he had smashed that man’s head in. Really who would have pegged the guy as an FBI agent. It didn’t raise too many concerns for him though, Taehyung hardly meddled in foreign affairs in the states anyways. 

Before you’re able to tease him about his fuck ups once more the incessant ring of your phone drones off from the floor. With a groan from Taehyung he’s reaching down and pulling the device free from your sweater’s pocket,seeing it was Namjoon calling, no doubt ready to ask how the assignment went but Taehyung swipes the screen to answer. 

“You know, you really know how to kill the mood.”

Your jaw drops as you laugh, attempting to swat at him to grab your phone free from it’s confines but he’s determined, holding it tightly against his ears with a devilish smile.

“Keep it up Taehyung, you’ll be on probation until I say so.” Namjoon’s voice is heard loud and clear through your phone’s speaker, the eye roll your boyfriend gives being comical enough, his mood being dampened at the reminder. With a pout of his lips he’s handing you the phone, getting off of you with a slight grimace when he feels just how sweaty you two had gotten.

Your conversation is quick, finished by the time he was done cleaning up, exiting your room with new clothes on and your favorite robe to hand you. The very evident smile on your lips shows whatever you two talked about must have been good, no doubt having gotten endless praise from Namjoon along with a new assignment. “I know that smile, what’s up.”

Slipping the robe on with a sigh you stand up and wrap your arms around his waist, peering up at him in delight. “I get to use my Sako next week.”

He can only shake his head at the tone in your voice, speaking about using your favorite gun on a target like it was a shiny new doll for you to play with. “You’re psycho you know that.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

[shoutogepi]

Taking Care of Their Drunk S/O After a Girls’ Night Out

with Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou 

genre : [ ☀︎ ]  fluff!! & a tiny bitta steam~

hc prompt : how would he take care of you if you come home wasted after a girls’ night out?

author’s note : this is my first time writing headcanons!! idk if this is good hc material but lemme know what you think! :) **gif not mine!!

bakugou:

first of all, blasty is annoyed that you’re going out and ditching his elderly ass at home. it’s a wednesday night so who in their right mind would be going to the club?? sure it’s your close friend’s birthday but they couldn’t just push the celebration to the weekend like a normal person?

sure you have work tomorrow but you’re young enough and it’s your friend’s birthday, they just went through a breakup so you just wanna be there for them, physically and emotionally. and bakugou gets that, but he’s still gonna be crabby about it cuz he usually drags you into bed at like ten pm.

more importantly, he likes to have you tucked up in his arms, nose in your hair and tbh your ass on his crotch. it’s just so much easier to fall asleep knowing you’re safe and there with him, and even though he complains about it, the sound of your gentle snores really lull him into slumber.

therefore he has a hard time falling asleep just because you’re not with him, but then the fact that he’s in his large bed and you’re out and about, looking killer in that sexy clubbing number... he’s gnashing his teeth and twisting in the sheets no doubt. knowing you’re most likely very far from sober doesn't really help either. and just thinking of all the creeps that’re probably eyeing up every inch of skin, every curve hugged perfectly by that black sleek dress he usually loves but really despises right now… ugh, he just can’t sleep with his blood boiling like this.

so of course he’s still awake, very agitated may i add, when scratching noises at the door start at two thirty in the morning.

you’re pathetically attempting to open the front door, but the key to the apartment is almost identical to the lobby key and then… the elevator key is there too and oh my goshhh the mailbox key is so small it’s hilarious!! like it’s a baby or something and idk you’re just vibing, laughing at the mini object drunk off your ass.

and a disgruntled katsuki swings the door wide open while you’re giggling at your fucking keychain like an idiot.

caught like a deer in headlights, your expression actually makes his frown melt into an amused smirk, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. “hey dopey, what’s so funny?”

shaking off the embarrassment, you throw your arms into the air and close your eyes, a great big grin on your lips as you loudly cheer his name.

katsuki has a huge weak spot for you and you just look so genuinely happy to see him that he doesn’t bother to make fun of you further, he just slips an arm around your waist and gathers you inside.

he asks how your night was while he bends down to take off your shoes, instructing you to lean on the door for support because you’re all wobbly and clearly not capable of standing upright on your own. god, how did you even make it back by yourself in one piece?

once the shoes are off, he scoops you up like you weigh nothing. years of training have paid off, i mean, his biceps are probably the same circumference as your skull so… it makes sense that he’s able to carry you so easily but it still blows your mind every time he does it.

sets you on the edge of the bed, kissing your forehead when you ask if he’s always had such sparkly eyes. oh, how they shine in the moonlight. lmao you’re a cheesy drunk. he shakes it off with the classic bakugou tch but you know deep down he loves it.

he takes off your constrictive clothing so all you’re left in is your underwear, and yeah his eyes linger because you’re literally perfect to him. but it’s like three am now and he just wants to get you ready for bed, so he puts one of his ground zero shirts on you because he doesn’t trust himself to not escalate the situation with you sitting naked in front of him like that.

has you sit on the sink counter in the bathroom while he hands you your toothbrush, toothpaste already squeezed out and bristles wettened. as you very sloppily brush your teeth, complaining about how the mint flavor is “too spicy”, he’s busy getting out the makeup remover and wipes.

he watches you do your little routine every night so he’s well versed in what to do. he ties your hair back and you’re surprised, like, how does he know how to tie a girl’s hair?? you figure it’s from past experience so you let him know your thoughts.

he’s red from ear to ear with blush, and he adamantly explains that “it’s not that hard to do, smartass, i didn’t learn from that.”

is all pouty and grumbly as he swipes the cotton pad across your face but his touch is sweet and so careful, loving. you lean into him like a cat, and he gets even redder because fuck you’re really cute.

after you’re done brushing your teeth, katsuki hands you a glass of water and tells you to drink it, or else you’re not getting any cuddles tonight.

“slow down dopey— i didn’t mean all in one go!”

he puts on your skincare stuff too, and he even rubs it into your skin in the right direction and pressure.

you just kinda sit there and then suddenly you’re tearing up because your man is so considerate ?? and gentle?? and he’s just, ugh, perfect and all yours and you’re just really in your feelings all the sudden.

katsuki is shook when he stops focusing on rubbing the moisturizer into your neck to see tears gathering along your lower lashes.

“hey, what’s wrong, princess? did something happen? do you feel alright?”

you just pull him close and hold him tight. and katsuki is the smartest guy you know, he picks up all your social cues. so he softly wraps his strong arms around you, calloused fingers rubbing into your scalp.

“i just really love you,” you whimper, muffled his now damp shirt. “i’m sorry for keeping you up, i meant to just sneak in and slide into bed. you don’t have to do all this.”

he’s quiet for a moment before he squeezes you carefully, letting out a low sigh. “you worry too much, baby. you know i’d do anything for you...” he leans back and his thumb rolls over your wet cheek, eyes half lidded and a small, sincere smile on his lips, “and, i really love you too.”

kirishima:

kiri isn’t really the type to get super overprotective, and he does his fair share of partying so he is more than understanding when you tell him you’re going to the club with the girls.

he does pout a little when you tell him he can’t come, but he quickly accepts the fact because he understands it’s “girls’ night” and he probably wouldn’t want to be there for that anyway. although he does quip out a small comment about how sexy you look in your clubbing outfit, and how much sexier it’s gonna look on your bedroom floor later on.

safe to say you leave the house with a blush on your cheeks and a little heat between your legs.

you’re out with the 1A girls tonight— you’d all stayed pretty close after graduation and somehow you’d finally managed to get a night that all of you could attend. you can’t remember how many rounds of shots go by, and by the time the club is closing, your friends are all in various stages of drunkenness.

tsuyu and ochaco are playing some children’s hand game and singing along to it while they clap their hands together incessantly, jirou and hagakure are stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk as some kind of competition and yelling in indignation, and mina and momo have their arms around your shoulders as they debate what would be tastier right now: takoyaki or taiyaki.

honestly you keep tripping up on the words because they sound so similar, so the conversation just keeps going in circles until one of you finally decides to call a cab.

it’s about one in the morning— the group had left the club to get a snack before the easy mart across the street closed and you’d each gotten probably too many foods, your eyes bigger than your stomach.

kirishima laughs when you walk into the apartment, wobbling a bit with the (surprisingly full) plastic “thank you!” bag swinging around in the air.

“hey babe, whatcha got there? woah now—“

he reaches out and catches you before you tumble over, a red brow raised teasingly at your questionable balance.

“you alright baby?”

his voice is always deep, but it sounds even more intoxicatingly velvety in your drunken stupor, and all you do is give him the eyes with your tongue poking out between your lips.

he laughs at you again, nodding and whispering a “later, eager girl” in your ear as he sits you down on the couch, large hands fiddling with the straps on your ankles.

kiri frowns as the heel comes off, angry red marks marring the top of your foot, the back of your ankle faring even worse with a blister rubbed raw laying there.

you hiss when he touches it experimentally, a look of surprise on your face and frustration on his.

“y’know you’re really deadly in those heels babe, but if i’d known they’d hurt ‘ya i wouldn’t have let ‘ya wear ‘em out for so long…”

he disappears into the bathroom for a moment only to come back with the first aid kit. he gingerly holds your foot with one hand, the other dabbing some antibacterial cream onto the wound. he rips the wrapper with his pointy teeth, and you stifle a laugh at his red hero logo littered across the bandage.

he chuckles at your laughter, pressing a gentle kiss to your knee as he repeats the action on the other foot.

once he’s done and you’re all bandaged up, he sits next to you on the sofa, pulling your legs up across his lap.

he is not afraid to stay up late with you— actually, he prefers it because he just loves talking with you, especially when you’re all giggly and blushy because of the alcohol. plus he doesn’t want you to go to sleep still drunk (which he can tell you clearly still are), cuz he thinks you’ll have more of a hangover and it’s not that he doesn’t wanna take care of you tomorrow, it’s that he doesn’t want you to be in any pain if you can avoid it. he is a gentleman after all.

kiri inquires how your night out was, and you inform him of all the fun you’d had with the girls. he nods as he listens, big hands coming to rub your feet with the tiniest bit of strength— just enough to soothe your aching feet.

he tends to your every need;

fetching you an icy water bottle and encouraging you to drink from it frequently— “take another sip for me baby, I’ll add another minute to your massage if ‘ya do— haha that’s it, good girl!”

turning on the fan when you say you’re a little warm— “you’re hot? yeah i know. kidding. lemme get the fan for ‘ya.”

flicking on the TV and putting on your choice of entertainment. he doesn’t mind that it’s that show you love, even if it’s his third time watching this particular episode— “great choice babe, this one’s funny… hey, what’s that look for? of course it’s alright, i love this show!”  

it’s more of a background noise anyway as he talks with you, genuinely enjoying your company and just being there with you. he just wants to chat with you; share your smiles and hear your thoughts from the night, make silly jokes about the show and hear your laugh, lay his cheesy pickup lines on you even though you’ve been his for quite some time now.

and it’s so cute to him how you stumble on your words and amuse yourself when you’re drunk like this, and then when you remember you had bought snacks he swears his heart skips a beat at your squeal of excitement.

“this one’s for you!” you chime happily, hand outstretched and offering the box of pocky to him. his heart melts a little (okay maybe a lot) at your gift— he’d said he was craving chocolate last night and you had remembered, even in your intoxicated state.

gosh, he really loves you.

he’s about to voice the emotion when his thumb brushes over the perfect spot on the arch of your foot particularly hard, and a loud moan erupts from your lips, your brow furrowing and your lip pinching between your teeth.

you share a heated look before he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“thanks babe, but the pocky’ll have to wait,” he murmurs as he tosses the box aside, pushing the bag of snacks onto the floor. crawling over your legs with a sharp-toothed smirk on his lips, he growls lowly, a glint in his crimson eyes. “there’s something else i needa taste of now…”

➥ masterlist — thanks for reading as always :)

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[the-cult-of-russo]

Hi!! So i just read your billy headcanon about him and reader arguing and it was so good! I loved how thorough you were and i liked how the stages are so accurate to his personality! What do you think him and reader would argue about?

Once again, my brain is total chaos. It's my chaos and I understand it but trying to get it down for others to make sense of makes my head hurt lmao

First of all, I'm gonna do two sections. One for things that Billy would start a fight over, and one that you'd pick a fight over. Basically, things you do to upset him enough to cause a fight and then things he'd do that upset you enough to cause a fight.

If you haven't seen my other headcanon about how Billy acts during a fight, find it here. I reference his Stages of Rage in this so it'll make sense if you've read it.

Also remember this is my Billy.

-

Billy:

Billy can be impulsive and he has a temper. That being said, he's learnt really well over the years how to push it down. He's got good at stuffing his anger in a box and dealing with it another time somehow. Sometimes people wouldn't even know just how pissed he is. Yet with you, sometimes you do things that drive him to the brink of insanity and he finds it hard to deal with it.

The thing with Billy is, any negative emotion turns to anger. He doesn't know how to cope with it otherwise. And the things you'd do to cause him to fight with you don't actually make him genuinely angry. They've made him upset, hurt, or scared. All feelings he loathes to feel and they morph into anger instead.

The first thing that would cause him to fight with you is jealousy. Its not that he doesn't trust you because he does. He trusts you explicitly. But for all of his outward bravado and confidence, he has a lot of deep rooted self worth issues stemming from his childhood. Those disgusting feelings of not being good enough, of not being worthy of love or happiness, of not being wanted. All of those have been buried down inside of him yet you seem to bring them out kicking and screaming.

He's terrified of you leaving him. He finally has something special, worth every bit of pain he's suffered. He's finally found happiness. He feels like he's got to cling onto you desperately, fingers bloodied as he clutches you so hard like you might float away the second he let's up.

So when you and Billy are out with friends and you go up to the bar, he watches you with a dopey smile because he can't help it. But it gets wiped off his face the second some asshole approaches you. He knows it's ridiculous when the green eyed monster rears its head, he knows because although you smile at the man, it's tense. It's a polite but awkward smile as you shake your head and clearly tell him you're not interested.

Yet Billy's chest hurts. Because what if you see something in this man you don’t see in him? What if this guy is the one who steals you away from him? What if this is when you open your eyes and realise how worthless he is and you leave him?

He's aware his brain is being overdramatic yet he can't help the anger building inside of him. The defense mechanism of turning his pain and terror and sadness into something he can deal with.

And he doesn't want to cause a scene around all of your friends. So he goes the rest of the night being quiet and a little distant. You know somethings wrong and have a good idea what. But Billy suddenly feels miles away.

As soon as you get home, he let's it loose, unable not to. It sometimes starts with The Snark, passive aggressive comments about the man at the bar and how you should have gone home with him. 

But he gets angrier.

Because you don't get it. You tell him nothing happened and that he's being stupid but you don't fucking get the agonising fear that's crippling him because he's not good enough for you. So The Loudmouth stage begins because if he's wounded, he's gonna wound you right back.

But somewhere along the way you see through the anger. You see the pain in his glossy eyes, hear the tremor in his voice. Suddenly you hear everything he isn't saying. Instead of yelling at him that he's being dramatic or stupid, you switch tactics. You reassure him. You tell him he's the only one for you and you soothe his wounds by trying to get him to see that.

Although he still doesn't believe it, he likely never will, it does bring him back to earth. And of course he says sorry for the remarks he made but you know he was only lashing out because he was hurting.

-

The other thing that will get him to fight with you is also because of fear. If you put yourself in situations where you could possibly get hurt, even if it's something small like walking home in the dark, he flips his shit. He hates it, doesn't understand why you'd be so reckless. And while sometimes he's being overboard with it, too overprotective, he doesn't see it that way.

Billy's been through a lot, seen a lot of shit, done even more. He knows how dark this world gets. So if you ever put yourself in danger, even a small bit by being reckless, you're damn right he's gonna lash out at you. He goes through every stage of rage (except the last) if you try and defend your actions because he can't fathom the fact you aren't seeing his side with this. Why you won't let him just protect you. If he had his way, he'd put you in a bubble to keep you safe.

-

Other than that, there isn't much else you do that causes him to really fight with you. He's not petty. He's not the type to pick a fight over mundane stupid shit like you leaving your clothes all over the bedroom. Even if it does annoy him since he's such a neat freak.

Anything that you do that elicits those awful negative emotions are what gets to him.

-

You:

Billy's flirting is certainly a bone of contention. And while it doesn't happen often and it's never really serious since you two got together, sometimes it slips out of his mouth like it's second nature to him. Because it is. An example of this is at an event. He pays a flirty compliment to a senators daughter thats been eyeing him. He doesn't even know he's done it, doesn't seem phased until he sees your face. But he's at work, important business and schmoozing to do and he doesn't want you to cause a scene.

But waiting until you get home only annoys you more. It was an offhand comment and you know deep down he didn't mean it. But it still hurts you because he's with you. And you knew damn well if you did that to him he'd lose his shit. But you patiently wait until you get home, giving him the cold shoulder the whole way. And he knows what's coming. It's happened before.

But the thing with Billy is that he gets defensive if he feels backed into a corner. So when you whirl on him the second you get home, he pushes right back. He thinks you're blowing it way out of proportion and honestly, if you'd approached him calmly about it, he'd apologise right away and tell you he'd do better. But the fact you’re yelling at him has his back up so he can't seem to find it in himself to see it your way at all.

At first you don't tell him the real reason why it hurt you. You're just pissed. But as the argument unfolds you blurt out why it stung so much and his anger gets sucked right out of him. He watches you, devastation on his face as he realises you don't feel loved enough, that you think he'd go behind your back, that he'd find someone else. That notion is absurd to him, like he'd ever do such a thing when he has everything he ever wanted with you. But knowing he's hasn't shown you enough how much he cares wounds him deeply.

So he comforts you, promises he'll make it up up you and it won't happen again and he makes sure to make time to make you see just how much he loves you and only you.

-

Another thing that tends to get you upset at him is Anvil. Billy works a lot, too much most times. The amount of times he's coming home when you're already asleep or has to cancel plans with you starts to weigh on you. Building up until you explode about it.

But once again, Billy feels backed into a corner. Anvil is way more than just a company to him. It's a physical manifestation of how far he's come in life. It's proof that he's come all this way and he's done it all on his own. Anvil is like his baby.

And if it ever came down to picking Anvil or you, yes he'd pick you. But deep down he might end up resenting you for it. Because Anvil is an extention of him and his work makes up who he is. You knew this when you met him. It starts to feel like you're trying to change him and that gets right under his skin. Because if you want to change him, then you don't love him as he is. And that shit hurts.

He's already tried his best to placate you over Anvil. He works less, only staying late if its imperative he does and he tries his best to make time for you. He knows it's hard and he's away more than you'd like but he's fucking trying. So it feels like a smack in the face when you do this, like you can't see how much he's ready done to try and make a life where he can have both.

He works hard to keep the company the best it can be, he has to. But he also works hard for you. Because one day he wants to buy a big house and possibly fill it with children with you. He wants to show you the world and give you everything you've ever wanted. So it makes him feel unappreciated.

He feels stuck between a rock and a hard place every damn time this argument comes up because he doesn't know what else to do. He's trying his hardest to juggle Anvil and you and sometimes it feels like you're making it hard for him. He can't change who he is and if you can't handle it then it kills him. Because he knows if you can't deal with it then eventually you'll leave and he thinks he might just die if that happens.

These arguments get explosive because of all the emotions it makes him feel and sometimes you don't speak for days after. Both of you miserable as you miss the other. Deep down you know he's trying his best and you feel bad because you know how much these fights upset him. Eventually you apologise. You knew Anvil was his world before you met, knew how hard he worked. You don't want to change him and if you're honest with yourself, he's done a damn good job of making sure there's a place for you in his life. And maybe you never imagined you'd settle down with a workaholic, to miss them all the time, but it's worth it.

-

The last thing is how Billy's past seems to have a way of haunting you both. You were well aware of his nature before you met, he'd been pretty upfront about it. But sometimes it's hard when you're at an event with him and one of his past one night stands are there or you both run into one in the street.

This doesn't cause a full blown argument. If anything it's more one sided and Billy soon learns you've been taking tips from his Stages of Rage handbook when you use The Snark on him. You can't help it. The bitter jealousy that creeps in. But he doesn't fight back because for once he's a little ashamed of his past behaviour. He never wanted to settle down, didn't see the point. But that's because he hadn't met you yet. But now he sees your face everytime he's approached by a past lover and it hurts him. It makes him worry that you'll leave him one day.

So he accepts the anger and passive aggressive comments you throw at him because he feels like he deserves them. But his unwillingness to fight back has you sobering up pretty quickly. Because you know realistically it's not his fault and you can't hold his behaviour from before you even met over his head. It comes from insecurity and its not fair to lash out at him. And you hate how sad he seems when you do this to him. So you say sorry and make it up to him.

-

The last thing I'll touch on is his last Stage of Rage that mentioned in my other post. The Snowstorm. I said how this meant you'd done some really bad. Like maybe even break-up bad. This is where he turns off his emotions because you've hurt him that much. I wanted to give an example of what might cause him to do that.

The biggest one of course would be you cheating on him. It would be a knife right through his heart. He'd want to forgive you for the fact he loves you more than anything but betrayal isn't something he takes lightly. Couple that with him already having self worth issues and feeling not good enough for you and you have a very broken Billy on your hands.

Maybe in time he could move past it after some separation and a lot of thinking. But this would be the worst thing to happen to him.

[millepara]

waccha primagi episode 30 (last week’s!)

lmao Myam doesn’t want to duo w Matsuri bc she doesn’t want to do the same thing as Hughie

what’s with the title of this ep haha

Tatejima: “just like me ♪ just like me ♪” !!!!!! wow cute!!!!!!

SMALL OWL!!! so cute!!!!!

YES I was hoping we would get a look at pretty series’ most pathetic man as a kid and he is just as expected

priseries is truly the perfect place to have a tiny little kid make an entire AI and robot that runs off a mysterious renewable energy source and a father that’s like. enough of your childish games. about it

it would be so fucking funny if Auru ended up becoming duo partners w Meganee. rip Matsuri

I watched last last week’s ep when it came out on sunday and I’m only watching last week’s now so it’s been fully two weeks since I’ve seen primagi and I didn’t really think anything of it until Meiku Appu no Jikan started and I was overwhelmed w relief at seeing Tanto-chan again. missed you.........

idk why but I love this coord so much. the transparent sleeves are so neat and the controller headband is the cutest thing in the world. the fact that the rest of it looks like a wetsuit would typically drive me away but it just works and I love it. really glad this is Auru’s 2nd coord!

Auru so starved for affection that literally every time she does a performance she has a lifechanging moment with whoever’s eyes she happens to meet in the crowd

song still just as perfect as ever 💘 after getting the chance to play it in the arcade a bunch I think it’s my fav so far. the lyrics are so good

I was already spoiled so hard abt the baby within like seconds of it happening but even so it doesn’t make any more sense seeing it now. even knowing that this has gotta be the Flash Element (yeah, ok, Hughie just said that it was) doesn’t make it any less... any less priseries I guess

who is Mama!! who is Papa!!

oh wow she just gets the coord just like that. she did just give birth though so she deserves something. I totally thought she’d have to raise the Element to adulthood first though. is it possible that we aren’t going to be subjected to my least fav anime plotline, Suddenly A Bunch of Children Are Parents To A Baby And Now That’s The Entire Show?

Meganee is holding it please please just take it and walk offscreen and never come back. I am fully willing to sacrifice Meganee if it means never seeing or hearing a baby again

oh oh god the name. the episode title. it had a double meaning all along. ‘megane to contact’ as in glasses and contacts but also as in contact with Meganee. oh okay

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

why does jean warn up to mc so quickly? ikevamp makes it clear that jean is a pretty reserved person and doesn't open up or let people in easily but he seems to let mc in quite quickly and it confuses me quite a bit.

Oh boy, where to begin with this one.

Well, I have a lot of Feelings^TM about this, but I'll try to be concise. Essentially, I think Jeanne doesn't recover in the other routes--or the general storyline--largely because he's just a lot to unpack narratively speaking. And without some pretty direct intervention, he has a hard time healing. MC’s direct intervention was meaningful because it was focused, consistent, and adapted to Jeanne’s specific needs. She also doesn’t make light of his experiences which is key; she fully understands that she can’t fathom what he’s been through. There is a very weighty respect and acknowledgement, a seriousness with which she treats his wounds that’s important.

It’s easy to make this a “why is MC nOt LiKe ThE oThEr GiRlS” but honestly that’s just not the sense I get when I look at all the information available to us. 

That being said, I also just feel like every person's recovery from traumatic events doesn't really look the same? I mean Leonardo’s cptsd isn’t going to operate the same way Jeanne’s wartime/Inquisition cptsd is going to operate. Some people require very individualized healing, others will often require a large scale group effort to lift them up.

Typically people don't ever just get over what happened to them and never worry about it again, either. It's usually a process of coping; the hope is that with time you find healthy ways to deal with grief and move forward. Therapists aren't magicians, they just help people process painful experiences/thoughts. It's honestly up to individuals to find meaningful ways to implement these tactics. 

Tl; dr: My contention is that Jeanne doesn’t open up or choose to stay alive because MC magically heals him, rather his recovery is a convergence of many people’s efforts and hopes that he stays alive. Gilles (he insists that Jeanne must live, asks him to promise), MC (affirms and bolsters that promise), Comte (makes a second life and recovery possible)--and in no small measure Mozart and Napoleon--all make an active effort to buoy him. As people often say, it takes a village to raise a child.

While Jeanne seems to respond most powerfully to MC’s attempts, it feels more like a product of chemistry/compatibility than it does a random cop out. There is no insinuation that only romantic love can heal; after all, MC gets close to him without any romantic intentions at first. They’re just good friends? It’s more that their feelings simply moved in a different direction after a point, which doesn’t necessarily happen all the time. Jeanne is also incredibly moved by Mozart’s love for him as a friend, Comte’s love for him as a father, and even Gilles’ love as a comrade to an extent. If anything, without their input Jeanne’s capacity for romantic love would be questionable at best.

Now, because I can never for the life of me stop analyzing, I have a more large scale outline of my thoughts below. Spoilers for Jeanne’s route:

If we look at Jeanne's life history, he has pretty specific trauma. Most of the harm he endured was a direct result of human rights violations after the war itself. He didn't enjoy fighting and killing people, but he's also very much a man that sees the reality of his position: it's either kill or be killed. His entire goal was to defeat the enemy as efficiently as possible in the hopes of ending conflict, and with his enormous resolve turns the tide. He had no innate interest in inflicting harm, or lack of control when engaging. He isn't pathological about it, and doesn’t dehumanize the other side. He was more "this was an act of necessity, but those are still human beings." So as far as I can tell he has a very strong moral compass and sense of duty, he doesn't show much delusion/confusion in that regard. (Also evident in his conversations with the young orphan boy.) Furthermore, he has been shown to have a sense of humor--cracking jokes with Gilles and boosting morale for his fellow soldiers.

His childhood abandonment is significant (he left his home because he was "not an adequate farmhand and they had no ability to feed all their children") but I don't know if I would consider it a huge trauma point for him. It seems as though he deemed it an act of necessity--not spite. It was simply the way of things, and he couldn't help his wiry constitution. You'd be surprised how common that was once upon a time, tbh... While it's certainly not right or fair, it does appear that in his perception it was the choice he made and he moved on after he became a soldier. Just focusing on what he could do, rather than everything he lacked. For people in his position, they often feel it is useless to linger on what should have been. There’s no time to linger or doubt, life hangs in the balance.

That leaves us with his time under the Inquisition, just before he was slated to be burned alive. I think this is the keystone trauma point for him, because there are a lot of moving parts to his powerlessness here. The first part is that his entire life's mission--ending the war so that people would no longer have to die and/or starve as a result of senseless violence--was just sabotaged. All those years of doing things he never wanted to do (wartime violence) and being forced to leave his family to ensure they didn't all starve, all of it treated like some kind of joke. Like he didn't sacrifice years of his life and sanity to protect a people who were happy to call him a monster and watch him burn alive. The second part is the overt gaslighting and rewriting of Jeanne's personal history (and overall French public perception) for the sake of the King's political agenda. To call him a treasonous danger to the country when he was once lauded a hero. The third portion is the actual physical helplessness of being arrested, starved, and continuously maimed for no reason beyond pure malice. While it's never right to do that to any human being, this was done to a man who prided himself on his stalwart moral code. To abuse and torture him for something egregious that he would never do (at the risk of death) is just another slap in the face to everything he is and believes in.

I just feel like the context clarifies why that period of time would be the tipping point. His entire moral code and life’s work is being called into question and swept aside, as well as his agency? He believes very powerfully in a sense of right vs wrong, what's fair and what isn't fair. Somebody else deciding that for him--and deciding in a way that is openly unfair/incorrect--further makes him lose himself and his sense of reality. A person in that situation begins to doubt if they are good or bad. His belief in god all the more pressing; if he was a good person, why would fate bring him so much suffering? Honorable soldier or not, his blade has drawn so much blood...

People often reference his stilted social skills (and I am of the belief that he is on the autistic spectrum) as a reason why he is so "people-adverse" but tbh? I don't agree. His memories before the onset of this trauma reveal that he was actually a very warm person, and that people were more than willing to fight under his banner. He had friends, and he had comrades--his country loved him. He was the picture of well-meaning civic duty. Just because he doesn’t integrate smoothly into larger social groups or adapt well to socially shifting circumstances, doesn’t mean he just hates people lmao. When people give him the space to exist within his comfort zone and don’t take advantage of him, he thrives. Compounded by that, we also have his actions in the present to further prove what is true and what isn't.

While he is stern with the orphan boy (I'm sorry I can't remember his name, damn it) there is no malice or cruelty in what he has to say. He doesn't punish the kid or do anything out of line. It may not be fair in terms of the adult level of discretion he asks of him, but the kid also didn't have a lot of options realistically speaking lmao. Same thing with MC, she and the orphan boy are nearly identical in how Jeanne treats them. He's a little rough, but the route reveals that his intentions are just a reflection of what he's been through. He truly believes that if a person isn't strong, they won't survive--because his entire life was a series of trying to be strong/reliable because nobody else would. There was nobody to protect him, and nobody to care for him went things went south. It was him and his sword against the world, and even his exceptional skill as a fighter did not protect him from the Inquisition's arbitrary torture. He has lived in a world where good acts can become absolutely meaningless, where following rules and helping people still gets you slaughtered. That's going to take a considerable toll on his mental health: where do you find the will to go on when the next second of your life could mean the devastation of everything that matters to you?

Spoilers: you don't. Or if you do, every minute of the day is a fight to stay alive. That is the point at which we meet Jeanne. Caught in the hellish whirlpool of wanting more, wanting better--but being terrified of the cost. The cost of hoping, only for his entire world to go up in flames again. It's not a small thing, in my view.

If you have any doubts as to whether or not that is the case, I direct you to literally every singular instance in which Jeanne's emotional sensibility goes visibly dark/south. When do these instances happen? When it rains, for one. And when Shakespeare deliberately starts pressing on his sensitivities: about the soldiers he was forced to kill, about the nation that spurned him, how he's truly "wicked" at heart and doesn't deserve to be happy--seconds before flames erupt for the festival. Does that really sound coincidental? I mean lmao. The rain is a painful reminder, but MC transforms that memory into something a little lighter with her bet. He has nothing to lose in her game, all she does is ask for time with him or offers him something if she loses. There's a playfulness there, a restoration of agency and ease that's invaluable to his recovery.

As for Shakespeare's deliberate retraumatization...I can't even begin to explain how damaging that event was. Shakespeare is undermining Jeanne's agency in that he--not unlike the corrupt monarch of Jeanne's era--is twisting Jeanne's beliefs to work against him. He knows full well that Jeanne doesn't feel like he deserves somebody so bright and understanding (we need to remember it's not really a luxury he's had much in life, especially after the war ended). He knows Jeanne has a tendency to impose that strict moral code on himself even more than he does on others. To reaffirm his every worst fear and lurking terror only throws Jeanne into a vicious downspiral. Jeanne doesn't reject MC out of disgust or hate. He rejects her because he literally cannot handle the concept of trying to be happy again, or of burdening her with his constant struggle to move on while he’s in the middle of a bad episode. He knows he won’t be able to stop reliving the past, that every second of his life and breath will be colored by his gruesome memories. He's trying as hard as he can to keep the intrusive thoughts quiet, to move on. But I'm not going to lie to any of you, that is incredibly difficult to do alone.

The next obvious question is, well why can't the other men help him? This isn't to say that they can't--we see how much solace Jeanne finds in Napoleon and Mozart. Even Isaac is gentle with the veteran. But there are limits to how much they can do. Napoleon is struggling with his own wartime trauma, and it's not identical to Jeanne's. Plus there’s a distinct difference in their sensibilities? Napoleon is the type to habitually seek comfort in helping others when he can't help himself, he's not as in tune with answering his own personal feelings and regulating them. (I mean just look at his new ES: he knows what he wants, but it takes a nudge from Isaac for him to go through with it.) He’s very communally reliant in ways Jeanne isn’t; Jeanne is a very private person, and typically prefers one on one from what I can tell.

Mozart is the definition of repression, and if you look at their interactions it's usually Jeanne that's smoothing over Mozart's rough edges. Mozart says as much himself: that he feels like a rotten friend because he knew Jeanne was struggling with a lot of intense trauma, but he didn't know how to unravel it without hurting him in the process. Mozart calls it personal cowardice, but honestly I just feel like they both had too much going on to be able to help each other effectively. (And Jeanne expresses this sentiment too? This idea that he's not angry with Mozart? He knows they're both carrying a lot, he's just touched Mozart cares about him in return.)

Okay, briefly unrelated, but like. Am I the only one that wheezes uncontrollably when Mozart is like "?????? Idk what it is about MC...I don't want her to be scared of me..." in his own main story in the baths. And Jeanne. IS TRYING SO HARD. NOT TO SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HIM O B V I O U S L Y BEING IN LOVE. THE HILARITY I CAN'T DO THIS. Jeanne was like "yeah....yeah that's rough buddy.......[screams internally, give your boy time Jeanne he's fragile]"

Honestly? That's the thing about Jeanne too--he has incredible self-awareness and hyperarousal-related (I mean the PTSD kind, get your head out of the gutter) awareness to the people around him. He's very, very conscious of the fact that he is surrounded by geniuses when he can't even write his own name. Just because he has the fortitude not to lash out with his insecurities, doesn't mean he never feels stupid or inferior. And it doesn't help when there are people in the mansion who call him--a fucking war veteran from 500 YEARS AGO--nAiVe. He's not naive lmao. He just doesn't know how the world works so many years later, and it's a ridiculously steep learning curve? Leonardo and Comte are nearly 500 years old, but they lived throughout every hour of that time in a linear fashion. It is a big deal to be moved from 1430 to 1890 in the span of a second asynchronously, and then be expected to function without a hitch??? Given the circumstances he adapts well.

That atmosphere--this constant impatience with what he doesn’t understand, his inability to be caught up to speed quickly--is going to hinder his recovery lmao. He feels like a burden most of the time, and agency and freedom are crucial.

Another thing that occurs to me about the mansion's arrangement is that there is a power dynamic, just as any space with people in it has some level of hierarchy (unless you live with miraculously chill people). Jeanne is acutely aware that Comte is the most powerful being in that space, and he is not only hatefully angry at him--but likely afraid too. We have to remember that the biggest betrayal he witnessed in his life was at the hands of a monarch; it was the aristocracy that turned on him and erased the truth. Comte is openly a child that resulted from both that era and that type of lineage, I don't really blame Jeanne for being wary. He intimately knows how willing rich people are to throw normal folks under the bus to suit their ambitions/whims. Comte, while not deliberately threatening, also seems to be painfully aware of this impression he gives off. His "chad persona" as I've mentioned allows him to navigate his life in secret by necessity, but it’s actively damaging to his son. He can't reveal the truth because of Vlad's betrayal, and he's openly unsettled by what it could mean to be honest. Will they wonder about Vlad and find themselves ensnared under his mind control as Charles and Shakespeare are? Will Comte himself be subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known only to lose them?? That's a risk he isn't willing to take--and that leaves him in a double bind.

What is it that they say, the truth will set you free? This is where MC and Comte come into enormous play when it comes to Jeanne's recovery. One thing to keep in mind is that most of the people in the mansion have their own traumas they're trying to carry, and I feel like a lot of them are unsure how to approach Jeanne. Or if they do, he's very guarded. It takes a lot of consistent effort to get through to him. What does MC do when Jeanne unleashes his harsh worldview on her? She's understandably frightened, but Jeanne isn't malicious (so she chases him around). In fact, he openly avoids and runs away from her--well aware that what he's done is wrong. If anything, he did it on purpose, bringing us right back to Shakespeare's verbal undoing; why does Jeanne attack her in the first place?

LMAO. He attacks her because she essentially says "oh thanks for helping me!" "I am not nice. Watch yourself." "But you seem like a nice guy to me?" "REEEEEE" Does the pattern become a little clearer? When people think kindly of him, his instinct is to shatter that illusion with an impulsive reprehensible act. When people think poorly of him or lash out, what does he do? When that orphan boy starts yelling and screaming, Jeanne is nothing but calm. He explains the situation, and offers the kid a choice, perfectly happy to be the bearer of bad news. This operates on many levels I’m sure, but I have a feeling it has something to do with him being hailed a saint and a war hero only to be tortured and branded a monstrosity (and he probably thinks being a vampire is doubly monstrous). He’s more comfortable being hated because he feels it’s what he deserves in a lot of ways.

Jeanne has a lot of internalized self-hatred because of what he's done, and because of how much harm was inflicted on him outside of his control (he's Catholic and he was tortured, come on this writes itself). If I'm honest, I think that's actually the greater part of why he hates Comte lmao. Comte refuses the very concept of being cruel no matter how much Jeanne lashes out. Sure he lectures him and scolds him, but he never actively limits what's important to him or controls or harms him. Comte fully realizes the tragedy of how Jeanne's life was used by a nation in dire straits, and knows he needs time and acceptance to heal. No matter how dismal or unhappy, Comte doesn't stop--he fully believes Jeanne should have time in his life where he can really live for himself for once. But therein lies the issue, Jeanne doesn't know how to live for himself.

Which brings me to how MC and Comte "heal" Jeanne. I feel like they give him the space he needs to recover, and that's what results in his gentled temperament and happiness. Remember that so much of his main story is MC endlessly chasing after Jeanne. No amounts of his hissing or running or threatening stops her. Even if his refusals are empty of real dislike, they're enough to deter most people. Not MC. She's able to see through to the depths of who he is, and doesn't just use him for her own ends? She actively seeks to teach him (to read and write) to help him settle better in this era, she actively tries to ease his distaste for rain with a well-meaning bet, and she never gives up on him. (Actions mean so much more to him than words in general too, tbh...). Love is more easily defined by work and effort than it is by attraction.

When he has his episode at the festival, sure she's rattled; but that's because she truly believed that he didn't want to be around her anymore. When she notices he really doesn’t want to be followed, she stops like any normal person would. It’s only when she reads his notebook and sees the truth for herself (that he’s given up despite having the same feelings for her) that her determination is rekindled. She doesn't approach him fearfully, doesn't treat him like he's made of glass either. She just wants him as he is--accepts and loves him as he is. Scarred, bloody, exhausted, abrasive, terrified. She doesn't define him by how easy he is to love. That is a huge issue with traumatized people lmao. Because of their maturity, people always just assume they don't need help, or they rely on them to an extent that isn't sustainable. The second they reveal need or that they struggle, people walk away or victim blame them because it’s easier than taking them seriously.

While MC's attempts may be a little more obvious (cherishing his lily field, wearing the hair pin he gave her, careful about his gruesome injury, really listens when he talks about the horrors of his life and accepts that he experienced a level of agony/terror she can never understand, tries to express her feelings no matter his evasion) I think it's also important to consider Comte's large scale effort. I don't say this to undermine MC, I say it because Jeanne's life was defined by a complete lack of security. He left his parents to make their lives easier, he lived in a war that meant life or death any second, and his country's leader branded him a traitor which lead to his endless torture and public execution. Jeanne does not know a life in which safety is the norm. Point blank. He does not understanding going outside and not expecting the worst anymore.

Comte not only understands that level of despair, but treats it with dignity and respect. He fully accepts being hated if it means Jeanne can use that hatred to live on and find a way to heal. And most importantly, when Jeanne begins to move forward with MC and Mozart's help, Comte never once holds it against Jeanne when the truth is revealed. He's not angry, this isn't about reprisal or reparations or revenge. It's just love.

Jeanne doesn't really have a concept of this? His entire life was mostly transactional, defined by strength and efficiency. Nobody gives a damn about your feelings. You either hurl yourself at the problem or die. Nobody is going to help you or carry you or save you. While he may have had a little more support while he was in the military from his fellow soldiers, that support system was ripped away from him during the Inquisition.

One very common sentiment regarding elongated imprisonment and torture is that survival occurs in pairs. It is an undeniable fact that people need others to survive. It is the nature of who we are. Individualism has never proven to be successful, or if it is, its dividends are astronomically minimal when compared to people working together.

What does it mean to be the most reliable, steady person in the room? Usually it just means you don't know how to ask for help when you are no longer capable of maintaining that stance. Napoleon is guilty of it. Leonardo, Comte, and Jeanne all are too. It's part of why MC and Comte's capacity to see what he needs and provide as much as they can is such a big deal. That sort of consistent support (without a constant necessity to beg for help) allows Jeanne to be able to re-integrate into his new reality and find joy. Even if his nightmares and memories never go away, they are now being actively overrun by positive experiences. That's the thing about recovery, really--it tends to be more about drowning out the negative as much as possible and coming to terms with it, than it is about forgetting or never feeling it again. It’s about softening the sharp edges of pain like sea glass.

So is MC magical and randomly got Jeanne to open up? Nah, I don't think so. I think it was a series of persistence and real acceptance of who he is that made him warm up. People really seem to underestimate how deeply affecting understanding is, but that's how damage is undone. Jeanne can't really linger on the idea of his own monstrousness, his unworthiness, a lifetime of misery, when the person in front of him actively listens and cares about him. Makes him laugh and smile and lose himself in warmth for the first time.

If I'm honest, I feel like people also just...underestimate the level of traumatic resurgence that's perpetuated and inflicted by society’s standards in general lmao. This rhetorical structure in which good and bad exist in moral extremes, this idea that people should be able to recover and never experience relapses or periods of sensitivity. The refusal to radically listen to people and their problems, and make active attempts--not matter how small--to mend/ease those hurt feelings. Granted there will always be people in the world who do not want to improve, but I feel like most people want to. It's hopelessness, silence, and stigmatization that remain the true enemies of traumatized/mentally ill people everywhere. And among that population are always war veterans...

[lantsovsupremacist]

tiberias (cal) calore vii: illicit affairs

i’m only on the 3rd book so a) pls don’t spoil you’ll break my heart and b) my perception of the characters has only been developed to this point so if you come for me do it with the correct context lmao!!!

you knew what it was.

leaning your forehead against the cool metal post of your bed frame, a shaky exhale escaped from your lips. you wished just like that lost breath, you too could leave behind your body and with it, mind. a few minutes was all you needed, really; some semblance of relief.

even with your door shut tight with a deadbolt, the danger contaminating the palace lingered outside of it. you were not foolish enough to deny the cracks it could slip through. you would give any adversary a worthy fight, though. you could not afford not to, especially now.

for the first time in your life, you had truly encountered a problem that you could not use your abilities to maneuver out of. as much as your lungs screamed and your legs ached to run, you could not. being a swift, your first instinct was always to run. your speed always gave you the advantage in pursuit.

a familiar knock at the door broke you from your trance of pity. you stood up, sniffling as you ran the back of your hand across your nose and mouth. the action of clearing your throat sounded more like a whimper, but you managed as you gathered your skirts and headed for the door. you pushed down the nausea and wrung your hands to settle yourself.

your fingers shook on the deadlock before you pried the door open. the amount of weight on the wood, the length of the echo, and the momentary pause before the second, lighter knock gave away the identity of the person on the other side. you were in his arms before you could take another breath.

despite offering you the comfort you had craved all morning, his touch triggered the sobs caged in your chest. perhaps, it was because your heart was only safe in his hands. but, without the key to let them out, they messily tore through and paved their own path.

a year ago, your greatest worry would be the shame brought to your family on account of conceiving a child out of wedlock, let alone to the crowned prince. now, it seemed the impending war took precedence. you could have laughed; a red threatened your livelihood. a girl, really.

you were always careful, and it did not even happen very often. both you and the prince were very busy people, after all. send offs and reunions.

“we can fix this,” cal murmured into your hair.

“no, you don’t get it,” you broke out with a defiant shake of your head, “there’s nothing to fix.”

he pulled back, stroking your hair and pushing it behind your ears. your golden strategist was at a loss. your heart fell further into the pit of your stomach. you chewed on the inside of your lip, desperate to look anywhere but his eyes. yet, in the space of the same moment, you never wanted your gaze to leave his.

“i won’t leave you,” his warm hands ran up your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, “and i won’t let my father have a say in any of it.”

“it’s not the king i am frightened of,” you admitted with a sour taste in your mouth.

cal nodded with a grimace, “then i’ll be sure she is controlled until the end of the month.”

but who could control the queen who could twist minds? you chewed on the thought to avoid choking on it, forcing it down in distaste. both cal and yourself needed time neither of you had the privilege to claim.

cal communicated the importance of waiting until the traditional queenstrial to propose publicly. while the larger part of you agreed with this position, a small piece of your heart reserved for crippling doubt and senseless paranoia wondered if he was stalling for a different reason. if you could at any time expect desertion, it would be now but true to his word, cal had done no such thing—a loyal soldier until the end.

“and if they don’t chose me?” the secret fear you had harbored far before you had even become aware of your current condition felt a traitor to expose to the boy who had given you everything, kept every promise he could.

he studied your face carefully to ensure he held your full attention (though he was foolish to ever think otherwise), “make them, my dear.”

despite the event’s purpose of selecting a bride for the princes themselves, all of the noble houses knew the eldest had little choice in the matter. while your relationship with cal was not overt due to the inherently illicit nature of the affair, servants were known to talk. even in your deepest frustrations, you could not necessarily blame them.

his confidence in you was endearing but what other choice did you truly have?

you pulled away from his arms and lingering stare, wrapping your arms around your middle. pacing the length of the room, you suppressed a bitter laugh, “and then what? when a baby is born after less than eight months? and that’s to say we can persuade your father to rush a royal marriage.”

“let them talk,” his fingers twitched at his sides and you caught the scent of smoke, “nobody will be able to do anything.”

he thought he could protect from anything. sure, there would be little opportunity for any political action after a marriage was solidified but rumors would swirl. born into the pressures of eyes always watching you, they did not cut deep, but a queen needed a reputation demanding of respect. you did not want to be cruel but you decided that if need be, you could.

you wanted so terribly not to cry but willing it away only drew your focus to it more. you did not think the act made you weak but you would rather avoid the complete exhaustion it often caused. you were already so tired. but, some things were inevitable.

cal caught on before you did, “baby,” his voice was croaky, maybe laced his emotion of his own, “please don’t cry.”

you giggled at the irony. it was watery and your voice was nearly gone but it was there. confusion spread across cal’s features. you studied his face as he began to understand. a slow, crooked smile spread across his freckles and indicated the transition.

“suppose i could have chosen better words.”

“mhm.”

you had not noticed he was slowly rocking you in his arms. calm rushed into your senses. cal radiated your favorite kind of warmth. he monitored his body temperature around you, never too hot but always comfortable. it reminded you of home. he was your home. he smelled of pine and dying embers.

now nearing nineteen, you met the prince at fourteen. your elder sister married sooner than your parents expected, hastening your introduction into political meetings as a representative of the swift house of nornus.

who could blame a young and inexperienced teenage girl for falling in with a powerful, older boy who dared throw her an extra glance. what began as a benefit to palace life at fifteen soon turned into a vice. it was easy to tell yourself that you could stop any time you desired but you were addicted to the way he touched you, the way he tasted, the way he spoke your name.

for a while, you were foolish enough to believe he maybe even loved you. when you turned sixteen, you understood you were a pastime for the prince. so when at seventeen he told you he loved you, you did not believe him. he was gone for service quite a bit and your training schedule stole away any time for secret meetings when he was home. you began to purposefully avoid him but the withdrawal from the high that was cal left you dizzy.

when he did not make a move to find you, you tried even harder to move on. you had both made a mess of your hearts, left bleeding and shattered on the floors of the palace. you watched him escape the palace more often, always finding another place to be. one night, however, you followed him. you told yourself it was curiosity that caused you to slip out of your covers and into a warm coat, a coat you would not have needed if you left with him.

you caught up easily with your inhuman perception and speed and yet, he still saw you coming. he always did. that night, you wandered through a village and blended in. that night, you could be normal. he helped you clean up the mess between the two of you and things were different but the same again. they were better. you still took the long way to his room and pulled him into hidden corridors but the longing stares across meetings reignited.

you cleared your throat, “when you returned from delphie.” you tone held the pace of a simple comment, not the answer to the unspoken question pressing down on both of your minds.

cal turned his lips into his mouth and nodded, taking a deep breath, “i remember.”

it was a good memory, a good time. slow and gentle and loving. rane had worn you ragged sparring evangeline from sun up to sun down. you enjoyed the younger classes attending for the exposition but your muscles felt like weights lodged into your body and your breath had not yet fully returned after running circles around evangeline.

usually when one of you returned from an excursion outside of the palace, you wasted little time in attaching to every piece of each other. but, you were both exhausted—exhausted but greedy for the attention of the other. it had been a month ago, nearly to the day.

you and cal never discussed the prospect of children. even if one of you did not favor the idea, there was no choice in the matter. cal, as a future king, needed heirs, and if you wanted to be queen, you would have to bear them. but, you did want them and secretly, you knew cal did, too. it was more than a superficial requirement.

cal always looked at you, found you in a crowd, so it was hard to study him in secret. when he was with children, however, all attention transferred to those at his feet. it was then you saw him fully relax, the weight of his crown falling off his back. he loved them. you loved him more for it.

“and i don’t regret it,” he continued, dipping his head to place it gently on your shoulder. he kissed you neck once, twice, and then dropped his head back down.

[feliix]

halloween hookup ↠ lee minho

↠ CEO!Minho x Reader

↠ Genre: Smut, fluff(ish), coworkers 2 lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 4.9k

↠ Summary: The details of your company Halloween bash are all a blur once you wake the next morning, well, at least until you notice your boss Lee Minho lying beside you in an unfamiliar bed.

↠ Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, semi-public sex, nudes (but not the kind you think of lmao), dum/sub themes, mentions of alcohol and drinking. (though this fic does not include sexual intercourse following the consumption of alcohol, please remember to drink responsibly and that consent is not consent if you are under the influence!)

↠ A/N: here’s to spooky season and minho day (even though i’m a day late oopsie). and as always thank you to @jinterlude​ for beta reading ily ♡

The bright morning sun creeps through your curtains, scattering light through your bedroom and grazing your bare skin with its rays. A peaceful way to start your Saturday morning, you muse, snuggling deeper into your bed. As you come to your senses, you notice something is quite off. The room smells stale, your sheets feel slightly more scratchy than usual, and something is weighing down over your waist.

Your eyes snap open, realizing that the object weighing down your waist is in fact, someone's arm. The sheets you’re lying over are not yours, and the odd aroma that’s filling the room can not compare to the sweet scent of your own apartment. As if that isn’t bad enough, you’re not able to identify whose arm is slung over your body, pulling your waist backward against their warm bare chest.

Where am I?

Without waking up the unknown man, you carefully shift your weight to release yourself from his grasp. You take your head into your hands, gently massaging your temples trying to relieve the hangover paging through your brain.

The memories from the previous night are stale in your mind. You rack your brain, trying to come up with some reason as to why you’re here and exactly how you yourself got into this position. You sit up in bed, cautiously wrapping the sheets over your body. It seems like a dream or distant illusion, and you can’t quite piece together how it all went down.

You remember being at the company Halloween bash, you remember having useless small talk with a bunch of your coworkers, playing some stupid game that definitely would have been better if it involved some alcohol, and then it got even lamer, so you left with Minho.

Oh my gosh. You left with Minho. As in your boss, Lee Minho.

Your head whips around your body to look at the sleeping body lying next to you as if you’re expecting to see anyone else placed beside you. The memories of what happened last night come flooding back to you, and it went something like this.

The party was held in your office conference room, which was just big enough to squeeze all 20 people in your department into one space, but small enough where you would bump up against the person next to you if you moved too abruptly. Various types of appetizers and finger foods lined the long meeting table which stretched the entire length of the room. There was also a small end table in the corner topped with various types of soda, a bowl of punch, and some booze that George from IT brought. Not that you would ever drink at an office party, that was way too risky.

A few girls from HR had decided to decorate with some cut out pumpkins they printed off some computer paper and orange streamers that were probably leftover from your last boss's going away party.

After your last boss had left, your company hired Lee Minho, a young business professional from a different location that your company owned. Mr. Lee was a pretty laid back guy compared to your last boss. It was pretty weird having a boss as young as Mr. Lee, but he always made sure to bring some fun into the workplace whenever he could, like this Halloween bash for instance. Not to mention, he was the most attractive boss you'd ever had. All the other female employees seemed to agree, swooning over him with every opportunity that they were given.

Mr. Lee also really enjoyed flirting with his employees, male and female. It was hard to tell if he was being nice or just hitting on you the first time he complimented your outfit. The next time he complimented your blouse you noticed his eyes wandering down to your boobs, and you knew it was not just an innocent compliment, but hey, he was attractive so you were definitely not complaining about it.

The feeling of your phone vibrating in your back pocket of your denim skirt startled you, causing you to jump before fumbling your hands back to reach for the device.

Mr. Lee: I like your cat ears ;)

The sides of your lips lifted into a small smirk before picking your head up to look for Minho across the room. He gave you a small smile and finished his gesture off with a wink before you looked back down, sliding open your phone and responding.

Y/N: thanks! where's your costume? corporate won't let you join in on the fun for once :(

Mr. Lee was dressed in his usual attire, some black dress pants, and a black button-down, but accompanied by a very festive orange and black halloween tie. The slender fit of his shirt made his shoulders look especially broad in comparison to his narrow waist.

Before you could even look up from your phone Minho was standing by your side with a cup of punch in each hand, tilting his head towards one of the glasses to offer it up to you. Nodding your head, you smiled a thank you and took the red cup from his grasp.

You coolly leaned your back against the wall behind you, trying to stay out of the way of all the useless chatter going on between the coworkers surrounding you. Mr. Lee was quick to follow suit, sliding his legs down a little further away from the wall so he could match your height.

"This party is kind of lame," he whispered in your ear, earning him a small grin and soft chuckle from you. Most of the employees at your office were much older than you, so it was hard for you to connect with them. They all had their own families and children, where you had just become financially stable enough to move out of your parent’s house.

"You think anyone will notice if we leave?" You said sarcastically, playing along with his charade, just equally bored of the small talk your coworkers were making around you.

"Yeah, but I think I can get us out of it," he replied smoothly, pushing his back off of the wall and walked towards the conference room door, shooting you a quick wink before he made his exit. You had no idea what Minho had in store to get you out of this party but you sure hope it was good.

Not a minute later, the desk phone in the conference room began to ring. Everyone shot each other questioning glares, slightly confused as to who would be calling the office after hours on a Friday. Minho's secretary sauntered over to the phone before holding her index finger over her lips, signaling everyone around her to be quiet.

"Hello this is Amy," she said, cocking her head to the side and furrowing her brows, trying to understand what the caller was saying at the other end of the line. Her expression quickly changed to a small smile as she looked around the room, eyes landing on you before responding to the caller.

"I'll let her know. Thank you, Mr. Lee," Amy replied before hanging up the phone, "Y/N, Mr. Lee needs help with something and would like for you to meet him in his office as soon as possible."

Trying your hardest not to let a smirk creep onto your face, you nodded your head and placed your unfinished drink down on the table. Curious to see what Minho had in-store to get you out of the party, you made your way out of the conference room and to his office.

Peeking through the office window, you saw Minho seated at his desk on his phone. His legs were crossed with his feet placed upon the surface in front of him. The small lamp on his desk dimly illuminated the room, reflecting some light off of his shiny black shoes. He raised his head, eyes wandering away from his phone as you cracked open the door to his office.

"Mr. Lee, you needed help with something?" You inquired sweetly, giving him a grin while making your way into the room.

"Ah, I've been waiting for you." He joked smiling back at you, "Shut the door behind you." You obliged, carefully wrapping your fingers around the handle and closing the door lightly, sure to not make a sound.

"Is everything alright?" You asked, moving closer to Minho as he swung his legs off the desk and placed his feet on the ground.

"Well I figured we could have our own fun, that party was so lame," he said, holding his hand out for you to take. You hesitated, wondering where this was going but you took his hand in yours, curious to find out. He pulled you in closer so your frame stood between his legs, making your heart jump in your chest.

"What did you have in mind?" You smirked, feeling your body beginning to grow warm with anticipation.

"Hmm," he started, patting his thigh for you to take a seat on, "something not so spooky I suppose."

A knot began to form in your throat, causing you to swallow hard before stuttering out the word "Spooky?" and sitting down on his thigh.

Minho softly chuckled, "I've never seen anyone look so sexy in cat ears before, you were driving me insane in there."

Your breathing hitched as he placed a hand on your thigh, gently stroking your skin up to the hem of your skirt. "Is this okay, baby girl?" His eyebrow raised in question, watching your expression shift into a flustered one. You keened at the pet name, feeling heat rush right to your cheeks. Slowly, you nodded your head in response, unable to trust your voice in a time like this.

"Um, I didn't know you thought about me this way Mr. Lee," you stifled out while uncomfortably shifting around on his lap. Minho caught his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing a low groan before shifting his body as well, feeling his member harden as he leaned further back into his chair.

"Call me Minho," he smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek and to your hair, sweeping it over your shoulder.

"O-Okay," you stammered, growing flustered from his sweet yet sensual actions.

"Do you think about me this way, baby girl?" He said smugly, almost as if he knew the response you would be giving him in return.

"Yes, Minho," you unknowingly admitted. The words felt foreign coming out of your mouth, it felt odd calling your boss by his first name. But in some weird way, you liked knowing that he felt more turned on by you compared to the other female coworkers that were desperate for his attention.

"What do you think about, hmm?" Minho hummed, a short smirk fixed on his face. Your eyes widened in embarrassment, choking back a whimper as his hand brushed up past the hem of your skirt. Biting your lip in an attempt to control your breath, his hand wandered higher, pushing your skirt further up to expose your panties.

His long fingers grazed the fabric of the underwear over your core. Letting out a short gasp, you quickly brought your hand up to cover your mouth to muffle the sound. Dragging his fingers along the growing wetness on your panties, Minho kept his eyes locked on your expression.

"I, I think about how nice you always look in your dress clothes," you stuttered, "but I really wonder what you look like under them."

Ending the statement confidently, it seemed as if someone else had taken control of your tongue. Minho raised his eyebrows, smirk still plastered on his face from his prior question. As you felt the bulge in his pants begin to protrude under you, he shifted in his chair once again. He cleared his throat, loosening his tie in the process before speaking up.

"We should go somewhere more private." Minho suggested as he moved you off of his lap. "I don't want to be somewhere that anyone could find us," He finished before pacing towards the hall outside of his office. Following behind him you obliged, walking towards the door and into the corridor. Before you could get very far a faint voice sounded off down the hallway.

"Mr. Lee?" Minho's secretary called out from down the hall.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath, grabbing your hand and swiftly pulling you into the nearest room to avoid Amy.

The copy room was dark. The small touchscreen on the copy machine and the light that peeked in through the small, rectangular window on the door barely lit the room enough for you to see what was right in front of you.

Breathing heavily, Minho pushed your back up against the door trying to remain out of sight as he followed suit beside you. The feeling of hiding from your coworker with your boss was thrilling, something that was easily so wrong, and definitely against HR policy, excited you.

"Mr. Lee? Are you still here?" Amy called from the hallway outside the copy room door. Minho's startled eyes wandered out the small window on the top of the door to see where his secretary could be.

"Fuck," he let out a deep breath before ducking away from the window.

Minho flipped his body so that he was facing you, placing his arms on either side of your head and his forehead resting on yours. He slowly brought his index finger to your lips, motioning you to stay quiet so you wouldn't be found.

Minho's warm, deep breaths met the skin of your cheeks, his long arm hovered over you, restricting you between his body and the wooden door behind you. The mere inches between your bodies left you craving for his touch yet again. You bit your lip to try and ease your breathing, looking up at Minho through your long eyelashes.

He placed his palm over your lips, trying to silence your deep breaths from the woman pacing around the corridor only a few feet away. His gaze was deep and sultry, it felt as though he was looking straight through you and directly to your thoughts. If only he knew the types of things going through your mind right now – such inappropriate things for an employee to think about their boss.

Tension grew as you stood there, body pressed against Minho’s as you waited for Amy to pass. Being in such close proximity to him was affecting you in ways you would've never imagined. Heat flooded to your core with each deep breath you took; Minho’s seductive stare only furthered your desire.

Without saying a word, Minho removed his hand from your mouth and replaced it with his own. The kiss caught you off guard, causing you to let out a small gasp in return. Minho smiled at your reaction, clearly satisfied with how he was taking you by surprise. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip asking for entrance, in which you easily obliged, slowly parting your lips and allowing him to kiss you even more passionately.

Minho’s knee found its place spreading your thighs apart slowly, teasing you as he rubbed it against your throbbing clit in the process. With slight hesitation, he quickly peeked his head up to the window one more time, making sure that the coast was clear before leaning back down to attach his lips to yours. His hands roamed your body down to the small of your back, pulling you in even closer to him.

Pressing your breasts to his chest, you slid your hand between your two bodies. Your hand found its way down to the bulge in his pants, lightly groping it before earning a moan of approval from him. Instinctively he began to grind into your hand, becoming even needier for your touch.

Minho’s breathing became instantly jagged from the moment you first touched his growing member. Perspiration began to gather at the top of Minho's exposed forehead, the small strands of dark hair framing his face hastily became damp. Your callous touch accompanied with sweet kisses to his lips sent Minho into a state of hunger; his demeanor instantly changed, electrifying the mood of the room.

Minho’s fingertips dragged down your body and to the hem of your blouse, tugging on it slightly before seeking approval to remove it from your body. There’s not enough time to respond before you were fiddling with the tie around his neck, loosening it and slipping it over his head to have better access to the buttons that lined his shirt. Your hands moved swiftly trying to undo each one before Minho's hands reached for his belt, causing you to bring your hands back to your own body.

In an unspoken rhythm, you both discarded your bottoms, leaving Minho standing naked as you wore just your silky black bra. A low moan left his lips as his hand cupped your breast, massaging gently before slipping his thumb underneath the thin fabric to play with your nipple. His touch left goosebumps all over your body, taking the sensation of his calloused fingertips against such a sensitive area.

You threw your head back in pleasure giving Minho access to your neck. Hungrily, he attached his lips just above your collarbone, sucking light marks into your skin. His hands moved to your back, unlatching the clasp of your bra and removing it from your body. The stimulation from both his lips and his fingers left your core aching for more, leaving moisture to accumulate between your thighs.

Without a second to spare, Minho’s hand’s were roaming down your body, parting your legs and dragging his finger down your wet slit. You moaned in response, keening into his touch as sweat began to gather on your brow.

With one quick swipe against your clit you were jumping at the contact. “Minho,” you moaned, “need your fingers inside me.”

A stern look crossed his face, making his seductive expression even more dark and lustful than before. “You have to be quiet,” his voice carried a serious tone as he placed a finger to your lips, “we don’t want Amy coming to look for us again, do we?” His question lingered as he leaned in closer to you, whispering the words softly, before leaving with a small nip to your earlobe causing you to shudder.

“Jump,” Minho ordered, grabbing your ass with each hand as you followed his request, jumping as his strong arms secured themselves around you. Each of your legs rested on each side of his body, gripping him tightly so you wouldn't fall. Minho held his body tightly up against you, taking his time by teasing you and dragging his member along your wet slit ever so slowly.

His hard member slid into you carefully, allowing you time to adjust to his size before pushing himself all the way in. You threw your head back against the wall in pleasure, becoming accustomed to the feeling of his hard shaft stretching out your walls. Slowly, Minho began pumping in and out of you at a slow pace. He was careful not to make too much noise, giving you slow and shallow thrusts before working his way to a faster pace.

He soon attached his lips to yours, moaning into the kiss as you basked in the taste of fruity residue left from the punch he was sipping on earlier. The room was becoming hot and stuffy, the window above you becoming cloudy as your bodies perspired. His movements were fluid and intentional, rocking you against the door as he held you tightly in his grip.

"Hold on," Minho whispered, pulling you off of the wall and walking towards the back of the room. His muscular arms held your body tightly against his, making sure no space was left between you.

Minho pulled out slowly, the sensation of your aching pussy berating your thoughts as he and let go of your legs. Your shaky legs were left to steady themselves on the ground, stumbling to hold onto Minho’s firm chest for support.. Grabbing you by your waist, he quickly turned your body to face the copy machine. In one swift motion you watched him lift open up the top of the machine, letting the beam of light underneath the glass panel illuminate your naked figure. His bare chest was placed flush against your back, standing so close that you could feel his racing heartbeat.

"Bend over," Minho ordered as his hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you to push your chest closer to the copy machine. Following his orders, you pressed your body against the machine, shivering from the cold sensation of the glass panel brushing against your sensitive nipples.

Minho grabbed onto your ass, squeezing it gently as he guided himself back into you. You let out a quiet whine, wrapping your fingers onto the sides of the copy machine to try and stabilize yourself. He returned back to a steady pace, rocking into you with ease while his firm hands caressed your back.

"Fuck Y/N," Minho moaned, "you're taking me so well."

His hand grabbed at your hair harshly, making a makeshift ponytail with his fist, as he pulled your head up. Arching your back, you couldn't help but let out a loud moan in reaction to the new depths Minho was reaching in your dripping core.

"I wanna hear you," Minho grunted between thrusts, his strokes becoming faster and harder. Incapable of using your words, you let out another whine squeezing your eyes shut completely, focused on the sensation of his thick member filling you up and the feeling of his hips hitting your ass with each plunge.

"I'm close," your voice was whiny and weak. Minho picked up his pace, snapping his hips harder into you as one hand left its position on your hip. The loss of contact made you whine, but his hand soon found its place between your legs. His fingers lightly brushed against your swollen clit, the sensation making you see stars. Legs beginning to shake, your grip on the copy machine became firmer, needing to hold onto something in order to steady yourself. The added pleasure from his fingers sent you spiraling, choking you up and causing your eyes to water in bliss.

"Come for me Y/N, I wanna feel you cum all over my cock," he grunted, his voice low and sensual. Moving his hand faster, your clit was rolled between his fingertips. Your orgasm was just out of reach. The satisfaction was just out of reach. But Minho’s tender touch sent you over the edge, relying on the copy machine to hold his unstable body up.

"Minho," you mustered out, riding out your high, pussy throbbing around his dick. He hummed in response, too focused on chasing his own high to form any audible words. The low grunts leaving Minho’s lips became more and more frequent as his thrusts slowed, growing sloppier and careless. But his hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you still as he let out a string of profanities before collapsing onto your back.

Minho rested his head between your shoulder blades, chest heaving as he regained his composure before pulling out of you. Slowly, he stood up, taking a deep breath and admiring your exhausted figure before you followed behind him.

"Wow," was the only word that you could manage, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand as you turned to face him. Minho chuckled in response, smiling gingerly as he picked up your clothes, handing them back to you so that you could get dressed.

After pulling your top over your head your eyes did a quick scan around the room, confirming that you weren't leaving anything behind. If someone were to find an undergarment in here, it would be the talk of the office for at least a week. In the corner of your eye, you spotted a sheet of paper resting on the tray of the copy machine. Raising an eyebrow, you paced back over to the machine and lifted up the sheet.

"Oh. My. God."

You were frozen in place, eyes wide with shock as you look at the image before you. Minho soon whipped his body around, finishing off the buckle of his belt before wandering over to the copy machine.

"I'm so keeping that," Minho said, looking over your shoulder at the picture of your bare breasts printed on the paper gripped harshly in your hands. A smug smirk was plastered on his face as he continued to admire the crude photograph.

"Minho, do you know how this happened?" Your voice was filled with concern, turning your head to face him, sure he was up to something. His eyes were glued on the graphic photo you held in your hands, too zoned out to hear you speak.

"Minho," you repeated more firmly this time, finally gaining his attention back to you from the image, "did you do this?"

A small grin formed on his face, one side of his mouth lifted while he raised his eyebrows. He looked smug...too smug.

"Can't have anyone finding this, now can we?" He chuckled, taking this paper in his own hands and taking one last glance before ripping it into small pieces before tossing the pieces into the recycling bin and extending a hand to you. "I say we go celebrate the occasion with a drink, you in?" Taking his hand in yours, you nodded your head in agreement, following Minho out of the copy room.

"How does a some more punch sound? George brought an extra bottle of juice that I can snag and I’ve got a bottle of vodka at my place with our names on it." Minho spoke, earning a smile from you before walking out the office doors.

Suddenly you feel the mattress shift beside you, pulling you out of your daydream. Minho rolls over to face your direction with his eyes still closed, his mouth slowly opening before taking a deep breath.

"Good morning," he speaks, eyes fluttering open and taking in your disheveled appearance.

"Morning," you manage to mutter out, quickly breaking eye contact, unable to face him from the pure embarrassment filling your system.

"Last night was fun, huh?" He asks, the cheerfulness barely peeking through the groggy tone of his voice. "Last night?" You know exactly what he was talking about, but hope he’s referring to anything except what happened in the copy room.

"Yeah, we came back here to have a drink after we–"

"Oh okay yep! I remember. No need to go into any more details!" You cut him off before he can continue any further, covering your eyes to shield you from his gaze. The flesh on your cheeks are scorching hot with embarrassment.

As you go to stand up from the bed, hoping to quickly gather your things and rush out the door before Minho could mention anything else, his hand reaches for yours. He pulls you in closer to him until your face is near enough to touch; grazing the side of your warm cheeks before speaking again. You lower your head in embarrassment, unsure of what Minho is about to say.

"I really enjoyed our time together last night, I wouldn’t mind having you over again." He brushes the stray hairs away from falling into your eyes, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze afterward. Heart fluttering in response, you catch your lip between your teeth in an attempt to hide the large smile that’s threatening to peek through.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Minho stands up, reaching into the pocket of the pants he wore last night and pulling out a small folded up piece of paper.

"I believe this belongs to you," he curls up the ends of his mouth, biting back a smile while handing it to you. Confused, you unfold the paper revealing a picture of your very own breasts. As if the situation could not get any more embarrassing, Minho stares down at the paper in your hands, admiring your bare chest plastered in black and white, letting out a small chuckle.

As mortified as you are, you figure that the natural instinct to never talk to this man again would not work, seeing that Minho is your boss. Taking a deep breath, you try to find any sort of confidence that could still be left inside you. You look back up at him, cocking your head slightly to the side before reaching your arm out and handing him back the photo.

"Keep it, think of it as a Halloween gift." You say shooting him a smirk, internally crossing your fingers hoping for a good reaction. Minho snickers, taking the paper from your hand and looking at it one last time before folding it back up and holding it tightly in his palm.

"I'll keep it somewhere safe," He gives you a wink and shoves the paper deep into the pocket of his pajama pants.

"Happy Halloween, Minho."

‘Halloween Hookup’ is copyright 2020 @chaangbin​, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

[pillow-anime-talk]

traditional & maternal s/o.

synopsis: You as a beautiful, traditionally dressed and perfectly behaved woman who shows maternal behavior towards your partner’s subordinates.

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; mature!reader; romance; fluff; slice of life; sfw

includes: female reader ft. yukichi fukuzawa, ougai mori & francis scott key fitzgerald {bsd}

— YUKICHI

↘ Fukuzawa is also a traditional man, so when he met you for the first time, he was genuinely delighted with your grace and your way of speaking. Your delicate tone of voice and perception of the world made a huge, positive impression on him. On top of that, you were really beautiful, and your flowery yukata perfectly highlighted your pretty smile, eye color and hair.

↘ You were adults, so your feelings towards each other were slow and mature. However, when you finally got into a relationship, shortly after that, you lived together in a beautiful old minka with a huge engawa, where you loved to relax and talk about his day at work or plans for the future.

↘ You made the most delicious tea in the whole world and you were a great housewife who loved to cook, bake and take care of others. Yukichi was even happier when you brought to home a homeless little kitten with a twisted paw one day. You took care of him together, considering the pet as your first baby.

↘ More than six months after you moved in together, you visited your partner at the Agency for the first time. Fukuzawa talked to you about his subordinates more than once, showed you their photos and always smiled slightly. And when Kyouka – who was wearing traditional Japanese clothes just like you – joined the Armed Detective Agency the man said that you two looked quite similar.

↘ When on that day, you crossed the area of the building and then knocked on the wooden door, you sighed a little, a bit stressful about meeting new people. Shortly thereafter, a tall, blonde-haired boy with a green notebook in his hand appeared on your doorstep and greeted you. You bowed as well, and then with his consent, you entered the office.

↘ “Have you had an appointment on any case, Lady? How can I help you?” Kunikida asked in a polite tone, and you shook your head.

↘ “I came privately. I made some mochi for you, kids.” You responded warmly. Your person immediately interested Ranpo, Atsushi and Dazai. “Ah, I didn’t introduce myself, I’m so sorry. I am Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you all. Also thank you for taking care of our beautiful city.”

↘ “... How did I deserve to meet such a wonderf...” Osamu began with a broad smile, but the newspaper that hit him on the head silenced his happy lips immediately.

↘ “Stop scaring my partner, Dazai.” Fukuzawa walked towards you, standing next to your figure. “Something happened that you came?”

↘ “Oh, no, Yukichi. I just wanted to meet your almost adopted children.” You smiled at everyone in the room. “And I’ve done too much mochi.” You added when you went to one of the desks to lay out the colorful sweets. The members of the Agency were fascinated with you from the first second.

↘ Yosano was really happy to see her President with a woman who was so perfect for him. Kyouka immediately saw her deceased mother in you and held your yukata with each subsequent meeting, following you step by step. Naomi and Kirako loved hearing your stories and always asked you for tasty recipes. Atsushi, Kenji and Ranpo were your little babies to you, while Jun’ichirou was like your eldest son. Kunikida, on the other hand, was terribly ashamed of you, but finally overcame his shyness, stating that you were a wonderful woman and the future wife of his master. Dazai liked you, of course; even though you often scolded him because of his behavior, he still adored you and respected your person very much.

↘ Your beloved was more than pleased to see that you had such a good relation with his subordinates. You even had great contacts with Fukuzawa’s mentor, Mr. Natsume. It all confirmed Yukichi’s thoughts that you were the best woman he could ever meet.

— OUGAI

↘ Mori wasn’t surprised that another woman around him dressed in traditional kimonos and tied her hair in beautiful buns or braids. After all, he had Kouyou under his command, and before that, also had the sweet Kyouka.

↘ However, what got you all his attention is your kindness and dedication to others.

↘ Neither you, nor Ougai, nor even Elise will forget the day when three of you met in the middle of the street and at the same moment a thief ran out of the bank and his hand with the gun was automatically directed towards Elise who standing next to you. You covered her with your own body, fearing that a stranger would hurt her, but luckily nothing like that came, because Mori personally knocked him out and then calmed your terrified thoughts.

↘ He sincerely thanked you, then suggested a walk and a coffee in a nearby bar. Elise held your warm hand all the way and you were literally the first person the girl liked and trusted so quickly. I think she saw the mother in you, though she shouldn’t have thought so, since she was only Mori’s ability.

↘ But now we are here, a few weeks later, when you recognized the girl as your beloved daughter, and at the same time you became the wife of the boss of the Port Mafia, knowing very well what could happen to you.

↘ But even that, your relationship was really nice and warm; the man finally had someone to come back to, he had someone to talk to about something more than just work, he could cuddle someone and watch a movie or cook a delicious dinner together. Additionally, Elise could finally feel like a real, normal girl and could protect someone more than her own creator. They were both sincerely in love with you, albeit on different levels of this feeling.

↘ Your meeting the rest of the Mafia members was totally unplanned, because one afternoon your beloved husband called you to ask for important documents that he left in a locker, in his office, in your shared small apartment. Of course, you agreed to bring them to him, and on the way to the building you also went to the bakery to buy him and the cute girl something sweet to eat; you chose tiny fruit tarts and a few donuts.

↘ Ten minutes later, you entered the huge building very calmly, looking around to find an elevator or stairs. When you moved another few steps, you immediately stopped when the figure of blonde-haired Elise with a huge syringe appeared in front of you, and a black-haired – unknown to you – boy was thrown hard against the nearest wall.

↘ “Akutagawa senpai!”

↘ Your eyes widened when Elise hugged your stomach, covered by flowery, long yukata. You were still looking at the boy lying next to the white wall, who a second ago wanted to overpower you, probably considering you a threat from outside. You understood it perfectly well, after all, the Mafia had many enemies.

↘ “... Don’t touch my okaa-san!” The girl screamed, squeezing your body a little tighter. You touched her smol head, stroking the blonde locks, and smiled warmly.

↘ “Elise, my honey, you shouldn’t treat others like that, okay?” You asked softly, to which the girl nodded uncertainly. The security staff next to you, as well as Akutagawa and Higuchi, were shocked by Elise’s polite behavior towards your person. Who were you? “Where’s Ougai, my honey?”

↘ “He’ll be here soon. I was faster than him because I sensed you entering the building. I just wanted to say hi.” She replied with a blush and you laughed softly. “It’s for me?” She asked suddenly, pointing her finger at a paper bag with the smell of icing and kiwi. You nodded and handed her the brown bag full of sweets, then headed towards the still-lying boy and woman with the two guns in her hands.

↘ “Are you okay? I’m so sorry to cause the confusion, I didn’t want to look suspicious.” You whispered, stroking his head while guessing that the Mafia man in front of you is quite young. “Does something hurt you?”

↘ “... Oh, Y/N-chan, what happened?” Finally Ougai came downstairs and you smiled once again.

↘ “There was a little misunderstanding, but it’s okay now.” You answered softly, patting the twenty-year-old’s dark hair one more time. Ryuunosuke found your touch really soothing.

↘ “B-Boss...! Excuse m-me, but...!”

↘ “Hmm. I guess, all of you have already met my lovely wife?” He asked rhetorically, walking up to you, helping you to get up and kissing your forehead. “Be nice to her, otherwise you know what awaits you.”

↘ Akutagawa and Higuchi nodded slowly, swallowing the saliva in their mouths. The boy was really glad that day that Elise had stopped him, because it could end up really... bad.

↘ Needless to say, you gradually got to know more and more people and every member of the Port Mafia liked you; you were especially close to Kouyou, Gin and Yumeno, who became another baby to love for you. And also, despite the first meeting, Akutagawa adored you very very very much. You spoiled him as much as your daughter.

— FRANCIS

↘ Fitzgerald met you in the store when he was at one of the many sales. You watched him with a soft laugh as he selected pots and other cheap things.

↘ Of course he noticed you quickly; how could he not do that? Your traditional, long kimono and breathtaking hairstyle immediately caught his eye, as did your warm expression and amused, shiny eyes. So he replied with a big, manly smile, then started a conversation about how delighted he was with the items here and their prices. You two talked for a long time that day, and in meantime, he invited you for coffee at the nearest coffee shop.

↘ (Of course you had to take him there and teach him to use the menu card because he never has been in the cafe, lmao.)

↘ After eating a sweet, delicious cake and drinking a warm drink, you left the small building and moved on, still talking about your life and plans for the coming days. In the middle of Yokohama city, both of you found Miss Alcott who looking in shock at her leader who was so kind and affectionate turning towards a woman he had barely known.

↘ Louisa, as a great mind, immediately stated that you are a really good human, full of warmth, empathy and respect for other people. All of this was even more true when you offered two newly met people to use your own home to devise a plan for their actions to regain their good name, social status and money. Francis was more than grateful and Louisa genuinely happy that she didn’t have to rent something ugly and dingy.

↘ They stayed with you for more than a few days, and you, as a good housewife, continued to delight them with your tasty meals, desserts and scented tea.

↘ The natural course of things was that the man fell in love with you. However, before confessing his love to you, he first wanted to earn to ensure you a decent life; as his future, wonderful wife.

↘ That’s why he first returned as ‘The Great Fitzgerald’ and then as the man who took your heart and promised to treat you like a Queen.

↘ Of course you agreed; not for money or gifts, but only for him and his honest heart, because the whole situation has brought you closer to each other like nothing else. You supported him very much in his return and you were really proud and glad when Francis came to you one day in a fancy suit, took you in his arms and sincerely thanked you for the last weeks of support.

↘ Shortly after that, you became a couple and later, you became his fiancée. The man thought you were just his personal guardian angel and your getting to know each other was simply planned by fate.

↘ Miss Alcott was more than happy to see you two smiling and so beautifully in love.

↘ Now all you have been waiting for is a wedding and the enlargement of your little family.

[kurokoros]

if you leave, when i go (find me in the shallows) | todoroki shouto

Rated: M

Words: 24.5K (she’s long)

Pairing: merman!shouto todoroki x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up this close to the ocean, you’ve heard all the stories. The local legends meant to scare small children away from the water after dark or amuse the tourists that flock to the beaches during the summer season. Ningyo. Mermaids. They’re just myths, and yet you swear you saw something--someone--in the water that night. Even now, you can’t shake the feeling of warm hands on your skin, red and white blurring your vision.

AN: Written for the @bnhabookclub “just add water” event. I used dialogue prompts 2 and 10 from their list. This was supposed to be a short, 7K one-shot and that... did not happen lmao. I’m a little surprised that I finished this on time, but I’m so happy that I did. I do have two alternate endings to this that I plan to write, so stay tuned for those! Now, I need to sleep for the next ~24 hours. Enjoy!

Also, sorry, but per the laws of anime logic, your side ponytail mother is probably dead, and your deadbeat father left you, so you’re living with your cousin in this. AKA: I’m the only Manual stan in the fandom and needed to put him in this fic.

Special thanks to @sadistiks and @shinsotired for beta reading the first half of this fic! They really helped me figure out the pacing. And special thanks to @freckledoriya for motivating me to write this in the first place!

Warnings: smut (one scene towards the end, feel free to skip it!), lowkey breeding kink (???),  language, character death, descriptions of drowning, violence, mentions of blood 

XXX

Waves lap at your bare toes as you walk along the edge of the water, searching for sea glass in the sand—a futile effort; it’s growing dark, storm clouds rolling overhead. It isn’t raining, yet, but the air is damp with forewarning, and the ocean breeze sweeping in from the water chills your skin. The empty bucket you’ve been carrying brushes against your knee with every step. 

In front of you, Bakugou groans low in the back of his throat, almost growling as he stomps through the sand. “This is stupid,” he grumbles, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his orange and black board shorts. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the expression he’s wearing: brows furrowed in a scowl and lip pulled back in a sneer. 

Rolling your eyes, you kick water at him. “Then why did you come?” you ask, ignoring his complaints. He’s never liked the beach. And he makes that known every time the rest of you drag him out here, but you know he’s all talk. If he really didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t have let you and Ochako and Kirishima pull him out of bed to come here.

“It’s not stupid if we’re having fun,” Ochako chirps from beside you, an extra bounce in her step. Her fingers are laced together behind her back, and she’s handed her bucket off to Kirishima at some point, the boy dutifully combing the beach with a careful eye for anything shiny.

Bakugou glances at Ochako, and his gaze softens around the edges. His voice doesn’t have nearly as much bite when he says, “Speak for yourself, shorty.” It’s hard not to give in to the bubbly girl. Between her and Kirishima, Bakugou is almost pleasant to be around. Almost.

Midoriya isn’t the least bit put out by Bakugou’s complaining, his smile sunny as he looks around the empty beach. There’s no one out here but the six of you, and it’s almost disconcerting without the usual flock of tourists and locals alike. “Come on, Kacchan,” he says, glancing at the other boy, “we’re almost done! After this, we can stop at the store on the way back to Kirishima’s house.”

Iida speaks up for the first time, trailing behind the rest of you vigilantly, watching for even a hint of trouble. “Midoriya is right,” he tells all of you, fixing his glasses and sending you all a stern look. “We shouldn’t stay out here much longer, with the storm coming in.” He hadn’t wanted to come out at all today, with the weather, but when the rest of you decided to go regardless, he caved, claiming that someone with common sense needed to watch out for you.

He’s also the only one wearing a raincoat and rubber boots on the beach, prepared for a storm that won’t hit for at least another hour. 

“Man, you worry too much,” Kirishima tells him, giving up on his search for anything in the sand. He flashes Iida a wide grin as he fixes his headband. “It’s just a little rain!”

The rest of you groan as Iida’s eyes narrow, preparing for a lecture. And, sure enough, Iida tenses, straightening almost painfully. “It’s not just a little rain, Kirishima,” he chastises, arms already beginning to move around wildly. “An ocean storm can be incredibly dangerous, even if this one isn’t expected to cause a tsunami!” He continues, reciting facts about storms and tsunamis that you’re almost positive he memorized from some textbook, but you tune him out easily.

Ochako does the same as you, already bored, and Kirishima and Bakugou take turns egging Iida on with sarcastic remarks. Midoriya is the only one that actually seems interested in Iida’s storm facts, but that isn’t surprising. He’d probably be taking notes if he had a pen on hand.

With a sigh, you glance out over the water. The ocean is all deep blues and shades of grey from the oncoming storm. You probably should have just stayed home. It’s better to search for sea glass after a storm anyway; the waves wash everything ashore. But you like the quiet. The calm before the storm.

You drag your toes through the sand, flicking more water at Bakugou’s legs. Something smooth brushes your skin, and you probably would have ignored it if you hadn’t been staring at the ground. A bright flash of color against the grains of sand makes you still, and you crouch, reaching underwater. What you pull from the ocean is a pretty piece of sea glass. The edges are rubbed smooth from years tumbling through the water, and the glass is almost a teardrop in shape, long and not quite flat, just big enough to fit comfortably in your palm.

It’s the most breathtaking shade of blue you’ve ever seen.

Ochako is beside you in an instant, peering over your shoulder at what you’ve found and accidentally splashing you with saltwater. “Did you find something?” she asks excitedly, eyes widening when she sees what you have. “Ooh, turquoise! That’s amazing! I’ve never seen that color before, ugh, I’m so jealous!” She hooks her arm around your waist as you stand up, squeezing you in a tight hug.

Kirishima leans over as well, interested in anything marine in nature. He grins. “Hey! Nice job!” he says, slapping you on the back a little too hard. 

The good natured hit sends you careening forward with a yelp, the uneven sand leaving you off balance. Ochako yanks you back, but not before you knock your arm against Bakugou’s. That only further irritates the huffy blond, but he doesn’t snap at you like usual, just grabs your arm to keep you from accidentally falling down.

Quirking a brow, he glances at the piece of sea glass you have cradled in your palm. He’s not impressed. “I can’t believe you dumbasses dragged me out here for this,” Bakugou gripes, but even that doesn’t sound convincing. Ochako and Kirishima’s excitement is infectious, and despite his complaining, you know Bakugou never really means it.

Midoriya and Iida have stopped as well, and the latter pulls his raincoat closer. “Yes, very nice job, Mizushima,” he tells you, trying to shoo the rest of you away from the water. “Now we need to leave before the storm hits.”

A chorus of “yes, Iida” and “whatever” are your responses, but the taller boy doesn’t take the grumbling to heart. You’ll all get over it by the time you make it back to Kirishima’s house. Besides, you’d rather avoid the rain if you can.

Iida places his hands on his hips and watches Ochako, Kirishima, and Midoriya turn around, heading back up the beach to where Bakugou’s car is sitting in the parking lot. When you and Bakugou don’t follow, Iida turns to the two of you, arching one eyebrow as if daring you to argue—a look you know isn’t being directed at you.

Bakugou huffs and turns away, glaring across the beach, and you roll your eyes. He was the one that wanted to leave just a minute ago. 

As the others stop a few feet away, waiting for you, you run your thumb along the smooth edge of the sea glass you found, keeping it tucked gingerly between your fingers as you shift your weight to your other leg and bump your hip up against Bakugou’s. “Come on, asshole. Let’s go before you give Iida a conniption.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles back, still glaring off into the distance. Bakugou tenses suddenly, and you glance at him curiously, brows furrowing when you see his wide eyes. You follow his gaze further down the beach, but can’t find anything that might have caught his attention. There’s nothing down there but craggly rocks leading further out into the water, the kind people dare their friends to walk across in weather like this. 

Dread crawls into your chest, and, sure enough, Bakugou calls out, “Hold on,” before taking off down the beach, heading right for the rocks.

Kirishima reacts first, clearly exasperated as he shouts, “Bakugou! Bro, come back!” and jogs over to where you’re standing. Salt water splashes your bare legs, soaking the right left side of your shorts as Kirishima accidentally kicks water at you.

And Midoriya isn’t far behind, coming to stand on Kirishima’s other side. “Kacchan, wait!” he calls after the other boy, caught somewhere between worried and annoyed.

“Bakugou, come back here this instant!” Iida shouts, already stomping across the sand after the other boy. He looks less than threatening in his oversized raincoat and boots covered in multicolored polka-dots (a gift from Ochako), and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing as his boot sticks in the sand and nearly trips him. “This is not following storm protocol!”

Dropping your empty bucket onto the ground just out of the waters reach, you glare at Bakugou’s retreating form, lips pursed. “I’ll get him,” you tell the others, not waiting for a response before you jog after him, racing right past Iida. Out of the five of you, you’re probably the one with the greatest chance of getting Bakugou to come back quietly. Kirishima could do it, but he could also be easily swayed into doing the stupid thing, too, and you really don’t want to see Iida blow a gasket tonight.

The wet sand sucks at your feet with each step, making it hard to run, and Bakugou disappears over the rocks before you can catch him, but that doesn’t stop you.

“Bakugou,” you shout, climbing up onto the rocks after him. The stone is rough beneath your bare feet, but any sharp edges have been weathered away by the ocean currents. Spiky, blond hair catches your eye as you scramble to the top of the rocks. He’s down lower, closer to the open water, where the waves are bigger, stronger, a little wild from the brimming storm. “Bakugou, slow down, what are you doing?” You follow a careful distance behind him, unwilling to risk slipping into the water.

“Shut up!” he calls back, loud over the sloshing waves. “I thought I saw something.”

You roll your eyes and slide down the other side of the rock, struggling to keep up with him. “Saw something?” you repeat, half-mocking him. “Like what?” There’s nothing out here but water and whatever fish were unlucky enough to get caught in the currents and forced this close to shore. When he doesn’t reply, you huff, pausing in your climb to brush dirt from your legs. “Come on, Iida’s right, we need to get off the beach before--” You cut off with a choked sound as you’re left facing the empty ocean where he was just standing. 

Breath catching, your heart plummets, causing your stomach to churn as you take another step forward. “Bakugou?” you call out, hesitant, and the stirring wind sweeps your voice out to sea. Nothing. Your throat grows tighter, and your chest grows cold, icy fingers slotting against your ribs and squeezing until you can’t breathe. “Bakugou!”

You scramble down the side of the rock, but stop before you reach the edge, legs frozen. If Bakugou slipped and the current took him, it could just as easily rip you down as well. Shit. You need to get Iida. Or call Masaki. Or an ambulance. If Bakugou hit his head--

Hands grab you from behind, latching onto your waist and yanking you back against a firm chest, and you scream, throwing up your hands in shock.

A familiar snicker reaches your ears, and you drive your elbow back into Bakugou’s chest, satisfaction rushing through you when he grunts in discomfort and lets you go. “Asshole!” you snap, whirling around to glare at him. The rocks are slippery beneath you, but you don’t even care, too pissed at his shitty prank to think about anything else.

Bakugou smirks. “You should have seen your face,” he tells you, struggling to hold in his laughter.

For a second, you consider pushing him into the water and leaving him there, but decide the murder charges wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, you’re too relieved that he isn’t drowning in the ocean to really be mad right now. You’re definitely drawing dicks on his face with markers tonight though. “Don’t do that,” you whine. “Ugh, you’re such an ass sometimes. What was the point of that?”

He shrugs, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Wanted to piss off four-eyes,” he says, making you roll your eyes again. Of course, that would be it. Barely sparing you a glance, he turns around and starts climbing back up to the otherside of the rock. “Come on, squirt, let’s go home.”

Huffing, you glare at his back, hands curling into fists at your sides. Your eyes widen. “Shit,” you hiss, twisting on your heel to look down at the rocks, searching for a spot of color against the grey stones.

Bakugou pauses at the top of the rock, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?” 

“The sea glass!” you tell him, taking a step closer to the water. “I dropped it.” Dammit, you should have left it back with the others, or in the bucket. At the very least, you should have put it in your pocket instead of holding onto it this whole time. You should know better than that.

A groan comes from behind you. “Just leave it,” Bakugou tells you, clearly exasperated with your concern over a stupid piece of glass. “You’ll find more later!”

The nasty look you throw him over your shoulder shuts him up. “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t obnoxious,” you remind him, seeing him wince. Yeah, you’ll definitely be holding this over him for a while, you think, watching as he lowers himself onto the rock and sits down, waiting for you. “Plus, it was turquoise glass, Bakugou! That’s not easy to find!” And there, a flash of blue-green on the ground, just inches from being swept away by the waves lapping at the side of the rock. “I see it!” you call over to him, gingerly walking towards the edge.

“Fuck. Fine! Grab your stupid glass and let’s go!”

Not responding, you crouch, reaching for the glass. It’s smooth against your fingers, wet from the water, and you cradle it in your palm again, holding it tightly. A shallow breath leaves you, relief curling outwards from your chest as you rise back to your feet and turn back to Bakugou.

But then something goes wrong. The rocks are too wet from the waves, and you’re too close to the edge, still jittery from Bakugou scaring you. It’s like your legs are ripped out from beneath you, and all you see are Bakugou’s eyes, wide and terrified, before you’re plunged beneath the water.

The rip current grabs you before you can kick your legs or move your arms, and salt water chokes you, rushing down your throat and nose. There’s no time to brace yourself for the impact and hold your breath like Masaki always taught you to. Waves thrash you from all sides, dragging you down. A shadow moves above the water, Bakugou reaching for you, but you’re ripped away before he can plunge his arms in after you. 

It’s too dark to see anything more than shadows beneath the water, and the salt stings your eyes, but you can’t close them. Your lungs burn, threatening to burst as a shrill sound rings through your skull. More saltwater tries to escape down your throat; your vision blurs, spots dancing across your vision, like stars or snowflakes. A strange feeling overtakes you. Weightlessness. And you let it wrap around you like a vice, a fist wrapped around your neck and squeezing. Your fingers unfurl from the fist you’ve made.

Sea glass slips through your grasp, turquoise swallowed up by the ocean before the waves return to devouring you.

Something moves in the water in front of you, a shadow. You follow it with your eyes, a repeating pattern of red and white crossing your vision before disappearing just as quickly. A fish. But it’s too big. Too long. Too warm as it brushes against your bare legs. Fingertips press against your cheek, warm and gone in an instant. There’s someone in the water with you, Bakugou, maybe, or Iida, you can’t tell. 

Before the water can drag you down further, hands grasp at your arm, your waist, your hip, finding purchase where you can’t slip away. Your hair floats around you in dark tendrils from the water, and through the hazy warmth settling around you, you find a pair of eyes staring back at you. Mismatched silver and turquoise would steal your breath if your lungs weren’t already screaming.

You inhale; the darkness swallows you whole.

XXX

You drown. At least, you should.

Pressure builds in your lungs, and you choke on it, wheezing and coughing. You lurch, rolling sideways as seawater burns your throat, and vomit on the sand, water and bile mixed together. Everything tastes like salt, and the raindrops sting your eyes when you try to open them. Pain laces through the back of your skull, and there are hands on your back and face and arms, grasping like they’re afraid you’ll be swept away again. Warm fingers brush against your cheek, brushing away the hair sticking to your lips. Someone is speaking to you, but the sound is far away and muffled like you’re underwater. 

The hands on your cheeks force your head up, and through red-rimmed eyes you catch sight of your cousin Masaki leaning over you, talking to you before he turns and shouts at someone else. There’s a desperate look in his eyes, but it calms when he looks at you. His chestnut colored hair and blue sweatshirt are soaked through from the rain, and it must be freezing, but he smiles down at you.

“Hey, kiddo,” you faintly hear through the rain and your fogged head. He strokes your hair, pulling you closer to his chest as you start to shake and sob. “You’re going to be okay,” he tells you, lips pressed against your temple. “You’re okay.”

Everything blurs together after that. You think you see Ochako standing somewhere behind Masaki, trembling with tears in her eyes as she stands between Midoriya and Kirishima. Midoriya’s hands are shaking, his arms hanging limp at his sides with shock, but Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Ochako, and his mouth is moving like he’s saying something, but you can’t make out the words. Iida is behind them. His raincoat is gone. So are his glasses.

Red light flickers across the sand. Blinking on and off.

Your gaze slides sideways and lands on Bakugou, kneeling on Masaki’s other side. He’s shaking like you, hair plastered to his forehead and clothes drenched like he tried to jump in after you. Bloodshot, carmine eyes meet yours, and a shuddering breath tumbles from his mouth. His lips move, repeating the same thing over and over and over.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Warm hands scoop you off the ground, ripping you away from Masaki, and he lets them take you, following on shaking legs. A smooth object slips from between your numb fingers and falls silently onto the sand. Masaki doesn’t notice, right on the heels of the paramedics taking you away. Bakugou does.

The sea glass is bright against the damp ground, a pretty dash of color against the storm.

Heart lurching, he scoops it up, wet sand spilling from between his fingers as he races down the beach to where his car is sitting idle.

XXX

When you wake up again, you’re in an unfamiliar room, beige walls and an open window letting in the sunshine. The panic that wells in your chest is instant, the phantom feeling of saltwater rushing down your throat makes you choke, sputtering, and Masaki’s head snaps up from where he’s been bent over in his chair for hours now. The phone he was holding clatters to the floor, a text unsent. 

He’s slow when he reaches for you, like he’s afraid to touch you, and a wet sound tears from your chest as his hand lands on your upper arm, rubbing gently as you heave, lungs trying to dispel water that isn’t there. The hospital bed dips beneath his weight as he sits beside you, and blindly you reach for his hand, squeezing his fingers between yours once you latch on. His other arm moves from your shoulder, curling around your back, and he pulls you against his chest just like he did last night.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he tells you, low and soft as his thumb draws circles against your back. “Deep breaths.” The soothing motion of his hand slows your racing heart , tempo slowing to match with his as your breathing evens out. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to.

And then your eyes begin to wander.

The hospital room is as bare as you expected, but warm, and with Masaki here, it might as well be home. His blue sweatshirt is tossed over the back of the chair he was sitting in. He must not have left last night. Hurriedly, you look away from the old sweatshirt, a heavy feeling settling over you. A bright flash of color catches your eyes, and you latch onto it. Pink and yellow flowers sit idle in a glass vase. You don’t recognize the type, but the sight makes a small smile tug at the edge of your lips. If you had to guess, it was Ochako who sent them. Or maybe Midoriya. 

There’s a plastic bucket sitting on the table next to your bed, beside the flowers. It’s the same one you were using last night. The one you’ve had since you were a kid. Sitting up like this, it’s easy to see inside. The bucket is filled nearly to the brim--sea glass, shells, smooth rocks, things that must have washed ashore after the storm.

Masaki follows your gaze. “Midoriya’s mom dropped off the flowers on her way to work. And Bakugou and Kirishima brought the bucket a little while ago. Thought you’d like to pick through what they found.” Your heart squeezes in your chest. They must have been out there for hours, picking the beach clean before the sun was finished rising. 

You want to ask where they are now, but bite your lip, still staring at the bucket. Masaki seems to understand your silence, and he squeezes you a little bit tighter. “They went to pick up the others,” he tells you, rubbing your back. “They all wanted to be here when you woke up. We were all pretty worried.”

Something inside you snaps at the information. Your hands clench in the back of his shirt, a raw and ragged sound ripping from somewhere deep in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whimper, voice muffled against his shoulder. Ice churns in your stomach, bubbling uncomfortably inside of you. You could have died last night. Maybe you did. Water that isn’t there sloshes inside your lungs, and your mouth opens with a wet crackling sound. “I shouldn’t have--”

The stern, but surprisingly soft tone that Masaki uses makes you choke up. “Hey,” he coos, leaning back just enough to look at you, dark eyes gentle and familiar. “Don’t apologize to me, okay? Accidents happen. The storm came in faster than you could have known.” 

Silently, you search his eyes, looking for a reprimand, or anger, but there’s nothing there but overwhelming relief, and when Masaki wraps his arm back around you, you fall against him willingly, boneless and gasping for breath. He doesn’t say a word, just lets you cry and shake until the tremors disappear and leave you exhausted and numb. At some point, you close your eyes, sinking into his warm embrace, nose buried against his collar. He smells like saltwater, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

The two of you stay like that for a long time, only breaking apart when a doctor comes in to check on you. It could have been worse, is what she tells you. They drained more water from your lungs overnight, and two of your ribs are cracked from the CPR, but there are no other external injuries. A miracle, the doctor tells you, checking your vitals. With the storm, you’re lucky you didn’t hit your head on the rocks. You’ll make a full recovery.

You were lucky to wash ashore where you did. Where Masaki found you as soon as he came tearing down the beach after Iida called him, telling your cousin that you fell into the water and Bakugou couldn’t find you. You were lucky that the rip current didn’t pull you out further into the water like it should have.

You’re lucky to be alive.

After she leaves, you and Masaki sit in silence for a while. He moves back to his chair beside your bed, picks up his phone. You don’t know who he’s texting, but their response pulls a crooked smile out of your cousin, and you match it with one of your own. There’s a slight pain in your chest, and your breaths come in short, wheezing gasps, but that’s normal. It’ll go away.

It isn’t long before your friends arrive, the five of them squeezing into the room together, though you know there’s a visitor limit of two at a time, and Masaki is already here. You’re sure Kirishima and Ochako came up with some excuse to get them all in here, and your smile widens at the thought. Even Iida, always a stickler for the rules, walks stiffly into the room behind everyone else, practically standing guard at the door.

They take turns hugging you, asking how you feel, voices gentle, careful, like you might just crack under their touch. But you don’t. You grip Kirishima back just as tightly as he squeezes you, and the pain in your ribs is worth it. They look worse than you, and you tell them as much. Iida frowns at you from behind a pair of old glasses that are held together with tape, and Kirishima runs his hand through his loose hair, bandana the only thing keeping the red strands out of his eyes.

Bakugou shifts his weight from one leg to the other. His jaw is clenched tightly, his hands curled into fists, and his eyes are still rimmed in red, like he didn’t sleep last night. “Here,” he grumbles, holding out his hand. You hesitate to reach for it, brows knitting together, but your confusion melts away as Bakugou drops a small object into your open palm.

Turquoise sea glass glints beneath the overhead lights, frosted surface smooth against your skin. Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent question, but Bakugou only shoves his hands into his packets and looks away. You brush your thumb against the curved edge, staring down at the piece of glass in wonder. How you still have it is beyond you. It should have been lost in the water. Your hand stills as it reaches the pointed tip of the teardrop, a silver chain winding around your finger.

“Bakugou and I asked Kaibara to drill a hole in it,” Kirishima speaks up from beside him, a sheepish look crossing his features as he rubs the back of his head. “We, uh, we figured maybe you could wear it, y’know? Like a necklace?” 

“Thanks, guys.” You try for a smile, but it comes out watery, a little forced. None of them comment on it. 

Midoriya is quiet when he asks, “How much do you remember?” The question plunges the room into silence, and Bakugou glares at the other boy, bristling, but Ochako is wedged between them, so he settles for clenching his fists and sneering.

“All of it,” you whisper, playing with the sea glass necklace that Bakugou and Kirishima gave to you. You don’t tell them about the turquoise and silver eyes you saw in the water.

XXX

It’s a week before Masaki lets you out of the house alone. You have a check-up at the hospital four days after your near-drowning to make sure your lungs are clear and there’s no infection setting in, and your clean bill of health and pleading gaze reassure him enough to leave you home alone for the day while he goes into work--a paramedic for the local fire department. 

You’re half-asleep on the couch when he leaves. The fractures in your ribs keep you awake, but the pain medication makes you groggy and irritable, so either way, you don’t win. The sun isn’t up yet, and Masaki leans over the back of the couch to tousle your hair and murmur a quiet goodbye, letting you know that Bakugou and Midoriya will be stopping by later in the afternoon to keep you company. He won’t be home until tomorrow morning, a twenty-four hour shift.

The response you give is muffled, slurred, and your eyes slip shut as your cousin’s fluffy cat hops onto the couch beside you, curling up against the backs of your knees. One last squeeze of your shoulder is all you feel before you drift off again, hazy thoughts dragging you under as the front door locks behind him.

You aren’t asleep for long. The cat walks across your side, paws digging into a tender spot between two ribs, and you jolt as an aching pain builds inside your chest. The discomfort makes you wheeze, and you wince, shooing away the whiskers that tickle your cheek. The cat jumps onto the floor, the bell on his collar jingling as he pads across the floor and disappears into the other room.

You roll onto your back, wincing as the motion jostles your bruised ribs. You should probably ice them again. Huffing, you glance towards the kitchen where Masaki’s cat is probably sitting on the counters, knowing you won’t be able to get him down with your current predicament. That’s the last thing you want to deal with right now. You don’t want to be here right now. It’s for your own good. You need to rest and heal.

But you’re tired of lying around at home, having nothing to do but sleep and recover and spend too much time lost in your own head as you try to remember every detail of what happened that night. You can’t forget those eyes no matter how hard you try, and the thought of them makes a slow shiver roll down your spine.

Growing up this close to the ocean, you’ve heard all the stories. The local legends meant to scare small children away from the water after dark or amuse the tourists that flock to the beaches during the summer season. Ningyo. Mermaids. They’re just myths, and yet you swear you saw something--someone--in the water that night. Even now, you can’t shake the feeling of warm hands on your skin, red and white blurring your vision.

A hallucination, probably. A figment of your imagination summoned by the lack of oxygen in your lungs as it slowly started to affect your brain. And yet.

Your hand drifts to your chest, where the sea glass pendant is resting against the mottled bruises spreading across your skin like an ugly watercolor painting, purple and black in places from hands forcing your lungs to expand, to expel the seawater you swallowed. They’ve started to yellow at the edges already, but it doesn’t make them any less sickening to look at, and you know your friends keep staring at them, a violent reminder of what could have happened. Your thumb drags against the side of the smooth glass. You should have lost it in the water. There’s no possible way it should have washed up on the beach beside you, not during a storm like that, not when you’re so sure that you’d already let it go before the water rushed down your throat.

Even though you know Masaki will be pissed about it later, you grab your phone and house keys off the coffee table and roll off the couch. The floor is cold against your bare feet as you head for the front door. You slip on your sandals, and then you’re gone.

You wind up at the beach. Somehow, that’s where you always end up.

It’s early, and almost eerily quiet. The sun is barely rising over the horizon, bathing the crystalline sea water in golden light and causing the ocean to shift between shades of teal and frothy aquamarine. You’re half-heartedly combing the beach for more sea glass, bare feet sinking into the sand as you search for even the faintest glint of color against the damp ground, following the familiar path you always take across the beach. The tide is low, waves lapping at the shore. And you’re the only one here.

Why the hell did you come here? Your lips curve into a frown as you make your way to the other end of the beach, gaze drifting across the ocean until you catch sight of the rocks leading out into the water. Somewhere in the back of your mind you can picture Bakugou’s back disappearing over the side of the rock, and you follow the same path as you did the week before. 

The rocks are rough beneath your feet, but dry this time, the early morning sun causing the water to evaporate, leaving the surface warm against your skin. The next thing you know, you’re sitting on the edge of the rock, legs stretched out in front of you as you recline back on your hands, eyes on the horizon across the water. It’s quiet out here, the gentle crash of waves the only sound for miles.

You dip your feet into the ocean and flinch, shivers wracking your body as the icy water laps at your toes.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” 

The sudden voice makes your eyes snap open, panic seizing you when you realize you’ve been caught. Your first thought is Bakugou and Midoriya, but the voice is too deep and too calm. A little dazed, your head lolls to the side, and a striking pair of mismatched eyes lock onto your own. Your breath catches in your throat, your limbs stiffening under the unexpected stare.

There’s a young man in the water, no older than you, and you stare back at him curiously, taking in what little of him you can see above the water. His hair is unusual, red and white split right down the middle, and it looks too soft and smooth for being so wet. There’s a scar covering his left eye, red and angry, but you look right past it, silver and turquoise stealing your attention.

The sea glass pendant in your hand slips between your fingers and bounces off your collarbone. He follows the motion with his eyes, latching onto the dark bruise peaking out just above the neck of your shirt. A grimace twists his mouth before his features become carefully blank.

When you don’t respond, he sighs. “It’s not safe this far out on the rocks,” he says, a flicker of irritation in his gaze. “You could drown.” The edge of his mouth twitches. “Again.”

The single word punches straight through your chest. You flinch, curling in on yourself, and for a second he looks almost apologetic, but the stern glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “How…” You stop yourself, a question on the tip of your tongue. It shouldn’t be real, none of it, and yet your eyes wander down what little of his neck and shoulders you can see, and he’s just out of reach, close enough for you to lean over and touch if you really tried. He stares at you, waiting, but not patiently. “I saw you that night,” you tell him slowly, carefully, just in case this really is a dream or drug induced hallucination. “In the water.”

His head tilts to one side, but he doesn’t deny it.

The lack of response makes your fingers curl against the rock. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip. “Thank you.”

His voice is deep and warm when he speaks again. “You’re welcome…” The sentence trails off awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to call the other. 

You sit up slowly, unfurling your legs so that your legs are dangling in the ocean again, deeper this time, the water reaching almost to your knees. The sun is brighter now, the glare from the light making it hard to see beneath the crystal water. All you can make out is a dark mass moving beneath the surface. Not legs. Something else.

He’s busy staring at you too, eyes drifting to your bare legs as his brows furrow, though they snap up to your face when you call out to him. Bemusement creeps into his features. “My name,” you clarify, offering him a small smile.

A clicking sound leaves the back of his throat. “Isn’t that rather informal?” he asks you, eyes narrowing.

The laughter that bubbles up from your throat is high-pitched, almost nervous. Here you are, talking to someone that you suspect isn’t human, and he’s worried about propriety. It’s a wonder you aren’t panicking right now, but it’s not like you weren’t expecting this somewhere in the back of your mind. And the painkillers make everything just a little bit foggy, a little bit easier to digest. “You saved my life. I don’t really care about formality.”

“I see.” And then he repeats your name, slowly, seeming to like the way it rolls off his tongue. He swims a little closer to the rock formation you’re resting on, mindful of your legs. One of his hands rises from the water, gripping the stone just inches from your soft skin. His fingers are long, clawed at the tips, and your breath hitches as they dig into the rock, allowing him to pull himself part way out of the water. “Shouto,” he says. This close, you can see that his teeth are sharp, filed into wicked fangs. “My name,” he adds, something like amusement swimming in the depths of his eyes.

“Nice to meet you.” Again, you think, by don’t say. A strange feeling tickles at the base of your spine, but you ignore it,  simply trying to process what’s happening.

Shouto blinks at you, frowning again, and then his gaze slides sideways to the empty beach, expression pensive. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, without thinking. Because why the hell did you come here? Why did you come back to the beach this quickly? To the spot where you slipped and the current dragged you down with violent intentions. Maybe you needed to prove to yourself that you aren’t afraid. Maybe you’re just stubborn. It doesn’t really matter either way.

Your gaze drops to the ocean, and you’re only half surprised by what you find there.

A red mass curls just beneath the water, and something warm and smooth brushes against your leg. Through the gentle rise and fall of the waves, you see what must be his tail: red, white, and black stripes a clear warning for anyone that might dare to cross him. Like the bright patterns of tropical fish, so alluring, masking the danger lurking just below the surface. And he’s no different. Thinner, barbed spines flare in the water behind him, carefully angled away from you, but that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning. 

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, staring at the pendant around your neck. The sea glass is the same shade of blue as his left eye, and it’s inexplicably warm against your breast. 

The question makes you pause, and your eyes leave the beautiful and deadly display of delicate fins and wicked spines below the water, but he doesn’t clarify any further. Of him? The water? Drowning again? You don’t have an answer. “Should I be?” you counter, eyes finding his once more.

His head snaps away again, back to the beach, and a sound caught halfway between a hiss and a growl slips from his mouth. You follow his eyes, surprised to see a familiar car pulling into the parking lot. The driver side door is thrown open, a head of blond hair lunging out of the front seat.

“You shouldn’t play in the water,” Shouto tells you, and you turn in time to watch him shove away from the rock. He glances at you one last time before twisting around in the water and disappearing beneath the waves.

The next morning, when Masaki comes home, he finds you on the couch where he left you, curled up on your side with his cat sleeping against your stomach and purring. You don’t move at all as he shuts the door, toeing off his shoes before stepping further into the room.

“You awake?” he murmurs, leaning over the back of the couch to look at you. His hand brushes against your temple, feeling for a temperature, and you jolt at the contact, half-lidded eyes snapping open.

You tilt your head just enough to look at him, looking him over for any cuts or bruises as well. “Yeah.”

Masaki strokes your hair away from your face, and his stern look makes you giggle. He’s never been much of an authority figure for you, not that much older than you are, but he’s always tried his best to take care of you. “Everything okay, yesterday?” he asks. “I missed a call from Midoriya, but it must have been an accident.” His mouth curves down. “I was a little worried,” he admits. “And sorry I didn’t call last night, we were pretty busy.”

“It’s okay. Everything was fine,” you promise, his concern making your heart lurch. “Missed you,” you add, already falling back asleep. Briefly, your thoughts drift to your trip to the beach, and Shouto, but it slips away from you like smoke as he pats your head, and when you wake up again, you know you can’t tell him where you went. It would only make him worry.

XXX

You keep going back to the beach.

Not often, at first. Once a week, at best. It was hard to sneak out when Bakugou and Midoriya began hovering over you, acting like your shadow whenever you left the house. You knew they were only upset and worried. 

Even months later, Bakugou still blames himself for the accident, and though you aren’t afraid of the water, you know that a small part of him is terrified for you. Both boys were in a panic when they found you out on the rocks, and while Midoriya was concerned and understanding, Bakugou was harsh, nearly screaming at you. You can’t blame either of them.

But that doesn’t stop you from going back. It’s easier to slip out before sunrise, after Masaki leaves for work or just before his shift is over. He’s still protective too, watchful, but he trusts you. You talked Bakugou into keeping your first trip to the beach a secret. He wasn’t happy about it, but he caved under your pleading eyes and your promise to owe him a favor in the future.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see Shouto again, sure he would never come back once you realized what he was, or sure that it was a hallucination after all, some figment of your imagination conjured up to process a traumatic situation.

So you were shocked when, two weeks after the first time you really met, he appeared in the water soon after you arrived at the rocks, as if he was already there waiting for you. The conversation was as stilted as the last and about nothing at all. At least, at first. Eventually, he told you how he found you, how the storm pushed him closer to shore than he meant to be. It was only a coincidence that he spotted you in the water, the waves thrashing you around violently. He didn’t have to help you, but he did, grabbing you before the current could rip you away and dragging you back to shore.

One month bleeds into two, and somewhere in between you’ve become friends with Shouto, or, as close to friends as you can be with a creature that isn’t supposed to exist. Neither of you talk about it, but the time you spend together is comfortable, easy. You see him most days, now. Usually in the morning, still, but sometimes you come out at dusk to watch the sunset on the water, liking the way the colors burst across the sky in shades of red and violet. It isn’t often, though. Shouto hasn’t said it aloud, but you know he doesn’t like you walking back to shore at night, when the rocks are slippery and you only have the moonlight to guide you home.

Today is an early morning visit that’s bled into early afternoon. Tourist season is over, and the beach is surprisingly clear for such a nice day. Your conversation with Shouto has lapsed into comfortable silence, with you flipping through an old library book and reclining back against a flat rock further into the water than you usually go.

You flip to the next page, frowning at the crude drawing of a mermaid. Not bothering to read the text, you close the book with a snap. Slowly, you stretch out on the rock you’ve been lying on, sitting up as you set your book aside. Beside you, Shouto cracks open a turquoise eye as he feels you move, tail lazily swishing in the water as he suns himself. His brows furrow when he finds you staring at his hip where the paler skin of his torso melds into the smoother, slippery texture of his lower-half. You’re looking at the bright pattern of his tail with a inquisitive expression he’s never seen before, and his skin begins to feel hot and itchy, like he’s been in the sun for too long.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shifting his arms beneath his head to look at you with both eyes, a small frown tugging at his lips.

Startled, your eyes snap up to meet his, a flush creeping up your neck. Hopefully he doesn’t notice. “Nothing,” you’re quick to tell him, dismissing the thought that crossed your mind. You haven’t known him long, and you aren’t sure it’s appropriate to ask. Still, you find your mouth moving without permission. “I just…” Shake your head, you loop your arms around your legs and pull them to your chest. You cast another curious glance towards his tail. “Can I…?” 

He’s confused until you gesture with your fingers towards his tail. Shouto tenses, muscles flexing beneath his skin as he eyes you warily, jaw clenched. In the water, his tail flicks, twitching like an irritated cat. Then, he stills, relaxing slowly against the rock. He drops his head back to his folded arms, but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“Stay away from the spines,” he tells you firmly, watching as you reach forward, fingers outstretched to touch him. The first brush of your fingertips makes him tense again, and he holds his breath as you ghost your hand from the pale skin over his hip to the jagged pattern of red and white stripes on his tail.

The texture makes you hum, smooth and a bit slippery. There are no scales like you expected, like movies and fairy tales led you to believe, only skin like that of a dolphin or whale. “You’re part lionfish,” you note, tracing one of the red stripes cutting across his tail. “I looked it up,” you add as he glances up at you, one eyebrow quirked towards his hairline. “Are you venomous, too?”

He stiffens again as your fingers move closer to one of the spines jutting from his fins, holding his breath until you move away just as quickly. For a minute, he remains quiet, letting you touch him. “Yes,” he says, voice strained. “But I’m not part fish, technically.”

You glance away from his multi-colored fins to meet his eyes. “So you’re a mammal then?” That makes sense. He’s almost entirely human from the waist up, aside from his teeth and claws, but you’re still stuck on the concept of fish-people. Kirishima would love to be hearing all of this. He’s always been fascinated with mermaids and ocean life. You can only imagine the expression on his face if he found out who you’ve been talking to for the last few weeks, and the thought makes your lips twitch in amusement. 

Shouto misses your smile, eyes locked on your hand as you absentmindedly stroke his flank. “We need to breathe air,” he confirms. “Just not often.” His brows furrow. “Maybe twice per hour if we need to stay submerged, but it doesn’t hurt us to stay above water like this.”

“That makes sense.” You pause over a dark burgundy stripe, wetting your lips. “So why this coloring? Most sea mammals aren’t this brightly colored.”

This time, he shrugs, eyes closing as your blunt fingernail drags against his side. “We all look different. Some of us have spines. Others have tails like sharks, or whales. I don’t know why.” You remain silent, and Shouto cracks open his eyes to look at you again. His tongue slides across his lower lip. “My mother has the fins of a butterfly koi, my father a lionfish.”

Your touch moves to another stripe, white this time. “So you take after him?”

The phrasing makes him frown, but he nods. “I look like him,” he tells you.

“I see. And how venomous are you?” You did some research about lionfish venom. Vomiting. Fever. Convulsions. Temporary paralysis in some unlucky people. Rarely death unless an allergic reaction occurs. It isn’t pretty, but it could certainly be worse.

Unintentionally, your hand wanders back to his hip, where a series of sharp barbs are jutting from his skin.

Shouto grabs your wrist just before your fingers reach the underside of one of his spines. His grip is firm, but gentle, and you shiver when his claws graze the inside of your arm. “I’m a lot bigger than a fish,” is his sharp reminder, and your eyes snap to his. The corner of his mouth twitches like he wants to say more, but he only moves your hand to his back instead, inches from his tail. His tail flicks in the water again now that you aren’t near his spines. “What have you been reading?” he asks abruptly, gesturing with his head to the book you set aside.

You pull your hand from his side, twisting around to reach for the book, and don’t see the way his lips curve down. “Some old legends about you,” you explain, shifting so that you’re facing him as you tuck your legs beneath you. “Merpeople, I mean.”

“Oh?” he muses, quirking a brow as he glances from you to the book. “Like what?”

A sly smile crosses your face as you remember one version of the story you read. “Nothing much.” The book’s leather spine is rough against the tip of your finger. “Just that mermen like to come ashore and seduce young women.” Leaning in close to him, you almost burst into giggles at the wide-eyed look he throws you. “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Shouto?” you ask him, voice barely above a whisper.

He freezes, the muscles in his shoulders and back tensing. The sharp spines on his tail flex, and his claws dig into the rock beneath him. Shouto is completely rigid, puffed up, his eyes wide as his pupils narrow into slits like a cat. For a second, his gaze is almost predatory before it slips into something more akin to alarm. It’s not at all what you were expecting from him.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes a moment later, pupils dilating once more. His tail twitches, his spines returning to a more relaxed position. Shouto takes a deep breath, shaking his head as a giggle finally slips from your mouth. “You shouldn’t do that,” he says, sending you a mock glare, though, he’s unable to hide the upwards tick of his lips.

Laughing, you stretch out your leg, prodding the side of his ribcage with your toes. Shouto seizes your ankle before you can pull away, and this time you feel the sharp points of his claws against you, a playful warning more than a threat. “Well, it’s not true, is it?” you joke to cover the faint hitch in your breathing. The hold he has on you is light and incredibly careful, but your pulse still races at the contact.

The grip he has on your ankle tightens just a fraction. He braces his free hand on the rock, using it for leverage as he rises off the ground, eye-level with you. “What if it was?” he asks, voice lower than usual, deeper. His head tilts to the side, his gaze magnetic as he draws your leg closer to his chest. The palm of his hand creeps towards your calf. Luring you in. 

“Now who’s teasing?” you joke, giggling again, the pitch just a little higher than usual--a little nervous. Shouto must notice, because he snatches his hand away from you like he’s been burned. His claws scrape against the rock as you pull your leg back towards your chest, wetting your lips. “Would you…” you trail off, and his eyes snap to meet yours. “Would you tell me more? About you?”

He shuffles on the rocks, propping himself up with his hands and moving most of his weight to his tail, almost mirroring you. Silently, he opens his mouth, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “What would you like to know?” he eventually asks.

“Everything.” Looking out over the water, your fingers absentmindedly brush against your collarbone before you grab the pendant around your neck. Shouto follows your hand with his eyes, lingering on the space above the low collar of your shirt where your bruises have finally disappeared. It doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

“Okay,” he agrees, watching you caress the sea glass around your throat.

And he does, tell you everything. Bits and pieces about his culture and his family. Shouto explains that there are two types of merfolk, those born like him and those created from seafoam and lost souls, drowned sailors brought back by the sea god Ryujin, a great dragon who controls the tides. He tells you about his mother, a gentle soul that’s as fascinated by those on the land as her son, and his father, who he only mentions in passing, but the curl of his lip says more than he ever could. He has a sister, Fuyumi, and two brothers, Natsuo and Touya, though the latter has been lost for some time. Families travel in pods, sometimes migrating across the oceans, but his has stayed in the area for generations. According to Shouto, there are several families in the nearby waters, though most don’t travel this close to the shore.

He tells you a story about Ryujin. How the sea god controls the tides with a pair of glittering jewels and how one of the gems was cracked, broken fragments swept away by the ocean. His voice is low when he tells you how the merfolk that find these fragments are able to summon the god himself, and are granted a single wish.

You listen intently for what might be hours, only occasionally asking questions, jokingly wondering about the validity of certain fairy tales and myths. His nose wrinkles at the absurdity of most, but some make him pause like when you teased him earlier.

It isn’t until you get a text from Masaki asking when you’ll be home that you realize how long you’ve been there.

XXX

You should have known better than to think you could keep Shouto a secret for long, that your friends wouldn’t notice that you’ve been disappearing for hours at a time. None of them ask about where you go, chalking it up to trauma and processing what happened that night several months ago. They give you space until your ribs are healed and your smile isn’t tight at the edges.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn’t like you going to the beach by yourself. Iida would lecture you on taking proper safety measures if he knew; Bakugou would be pissed. You think Midoriya and Ochako would understand, even if they didn’t like it, and Kirishima would pin you with a puppy-eyed look until you caved and let him come with you. But how can you possibly explain to them that you’ve been going to the beach most days of the week to speak with a merman that saved you from drowning?

They wouldn’t believe you. Hell, you wouldn’t believe you either if you hadn’t been speaking with Shouto for months now. Despite your easy acceptance of merpeople, you have no way of knowing how your friends might react to the information, and that makes you nervous. Besides, it’s not your secret to tell. 

Eventually, sneaking around catches up to you. It’s early in the morning, your conversation with Shouto ending early because of the cars pulling into the lot down the beach. Soon there would be too many people in the water for him to be there without someone noticing him there, and Masaki is coming home from a double-shift and you want to be home to see him, so the two of you say your goodbyes and head off in opposite directions.

You’re just climbing over the last of the sea rocks, your sandals in hand and stupid grin on your face, when someone steps directly in front of you. Your eyes snap up, locking with an angry carmine gaze that makes your heart stop.

“Shit,” you say before you can stop yourself, stomach churning sickly at the glare you’re met with. Your sandals fall onto the sand, but you don’t bother to pick them up. Heart lurching, you don't move from where you’re half-crouched over the rocks, tense and a little nervous. Not because you’re afraid, but because you have no idea how to explain this.

A muscle jumps in Bakugou’s jaw as he clenches his teeth. There’s a hurricane behind his eyes, only tempered by the fact that you’re in front of him, okay, but that doesn’t stop his hands from shaking. “Your cousin called,” he tells you, voice tight with anger--real anger. Or hurt. He’s always loud, always yelling. It’s when he’s quiet like this that you know something is wrong “He came home early. Said he couldn’t find you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

You wince. Shit, you left your phone at home this morning. “Bakugou,” you start to say, but stop when he narrows his eyes.

“I lied for you,” he continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “He was worried, because you almost died a few months ago, and I told him you were with me, and you’d be home soon.” His hands curl into loose fists. “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ here?” he asks, a low growl. “At the same fucking spot where you almost drowned?” When you open your mouth, but don’t respond, Bakugou releases a humorless laugh. “Get in the fucking car,” he demands, gesturing up the beach to where you can see the familiar vehicle waiting. You should have noticed it earlier.

The command makes you bristle, and you glare back at him, a retort already burning on the tip of your tongue, but the look in his eyes makes you feel sick again. Phantom pain laces across your ribs and crawls down your throat, and for a second you feel like you’re drowning all over again. 

Bakugou’s hand trembles as he drops it back to his side, and his breathing is heavier than normal, like he’s about to start crying, but his glare doesn’t soften at all.

You drop down onto the sand in front of him, leaving your sandals on the ground as you start walking across the beach. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou scoop them up, and he stays just a half-step behind you the entire way to the car. The sand is hot in the mid-morning sun and burns your toes, but you don't slow. If he’s going to lecture you, you’d much rather it be in his car than out here.

Climbing into the passenger seat, you keep your gaze locked out the window, refusing to look at your friend as he slides into the driver side. Bakugou closes the door harder than usual, and the sound makes you wince, surprised. Your eyes snap to him without meaning to, but he isn’t looking at you. Staring out the front window, Bakugou’s jaw is clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has on the wheel.

Sitting in silence, you wait for him to speak, or yell, or curse you out for making him worry--though he’d never admit it out loud--but the quiet persists to an unnerving degree. You’d expect this from Masaki, or even Iida. Not him. Not Bakugou. The only sound in the car is his slow breathing before he starts the car.

Neither of you speak on the drive back to your house. You have no idea what to tell him, and for once he seems set on keeping his mouth shut. This isn’t something you’ve ever had to deal with before, and that scares you a little. It feels delicate. A time bomb waiting to go off. Bakugou is a hand grenade, and you’ve already pulled the pin.

He parks outside of your house, but doesn’t turn off the car as he waits for you to leave. By the expression on his face, you know he’s not in the mood to talk--the mood to listen--but if you leave this car now, you know this will fester. Rot. And you can’t risk losing your best friend.

“I saw someone,” you blurt, shifting in your seat to face him. You pull your legs onto the seat, tucking them beneath you, and Bakugou’s eyes cut right through you. “That night, in the water,” you clarify, watching the way he stiffens in his seat, “I saw someone.”

His fingers clench around the wheel again as he looks away from you. “Mizushima, don’t--”

“Listen to me,” you snap, not even sure what you’re saying, all you know is that it hurts when he calls you by your last name instead of whatever shitty nickname he’s latched onto this week. “I should have died.” The assertion makes him tense, but you don’t stop there. “You know I should have died.” Your voice cracks on the last word, a lump in your throat. “And we both know the current wouldn’t have pulled me back that way. That’s not how it works. And this?” You grab the necklace you haven’t taken off since he and Kirishima handed it to you. Bakugou looks at you again, glancing at the sea glass that caused you so much trouble and so much joy all at once. “I dropped it in the water. I let go. I remember letting go.”

A part of you is pleading for him to understand, but he can’t. Not if you don’t tell him.

“I just--” You sink back against your seat, turning away from him to stare out the window. “I just needed to go back. I don’t know why--maybe because I was scared or I wanted to prove I wasn’t a fucking coward, but I just did.”

He’s close enough for you to hear him swallow, and beneath the hum of the engine you hear him ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t about you, Katsuki,” you tell him, an edge creeping into your tone. His head snaps up and around again, carmine eyes burning into the side of your face, and you sigh. “I needed to go there for me. And I didn’t need you there because I didn’t blame you for any of it.”

“Well I do,” he snaps, flinching like he didn’t mean to say it, but you’re staring at him now, and it’s too late to take it back. “We found you on the beach and I thought I fucking killed you because I had to act like a fucking asshole.” He cards his fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling at the spiky strands. “And then you fucking disappear and Deku and I find you on the goddamn rocks--” He stops abruptly, sucking in a sharp breath.

It clicks then. He isn’t angry. Not really anyway. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell him, barely a whisper.

“Who said I was scared, dumbass?” He huffs, and the insult makes you grin, but your expression sobers when he levels you with a firm stare. “You should have told me you were going out on the rocks,” he says. “I would have gone with you.” A flush creeps up his neck, and he looks away again. “Kirishima and Uraraka have been worried about you. How do you think they’d feel if you fucking slipped again and one of us wasn’t around? I don’t give a fuck if you need to think or figure some shit out, tell someone where you are.”

“I know,” you say, just as softly as before. The last thing you wanted was to worry them. “I’m sorry.”

Bakugou sighs and shuts off the car. “And?” he demands, stressing the single word.

You frown, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You said you saw someone in the water,” he says with a roll of his eyes, repeating what you told him a minute ago. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Right. It slipped out before you could stop it. You stare back at him, and Bakugou arches an expectant eyebrow. “I need to talk to you,” you tell him. “All of you. And I really need you to believe me.”

Predictably, telling your friends about the merman that saved your life doesn’t go over exceptionally well.

Iida is convinced you need a doctor. You’re almost positive that he would have thrown you over his shoulder and ran for the nearest hospital if Bakugou wasn’t standing beside you like a guard dog. He tells you exactly what you expect to hear, about hallucinations and near death experiences, how sometimes trauma makes people see things that aren’t really there. He’s blunt, but not unkind. Midoriya agrees with Iida, and seems almost apologetic for it, but doesn’t say much else from where he’s sitting cross-legged on your living room floor.

Ochako and Kirishima are slightly more accepting, though you think it’s mainly because they can see you’re getting frustrated, and sometimes that makes it hard for you to breathe.

Bakugou calls you an idiot, but not a liar, and that’s about as much as you expected coming from him.

So, you tell them you can prove it.

XXX

It takes a week for all of you to find a morning in your schedules when you’re free. Most of Iida’s classes are in the morning, and Kirishima works weekends, but you manage to make it work. You all drive down to the beach, the six of you squeezed into Bakugou’s car.

Ochako is still half-asleep when you make it to the beach, the sun barely beginning to rise, and Kirishima piggybacks her across the sand until you reach an achingly familiar set of rocks jutting out into the ocean. None of them look comfortable being here. The six of you have only been back to the beach a handful of times since your accident, and even then, you never got this close to the water.

Maybe they need this as much as you do. To everyone else it was a miracle that the current sent you back to shore, but Shouto? Shouto is real. Tangible. Undeniable proof that you’re okay, that it wasn’t sheer luck that the waves were merciful on you, because they weren’t. Somehow, he makes the situation easier for you to swallow.

“I can’t believe you losers talked me into this,” Bakugou grumbles behind you, as if you’re all still obnoxious teenagers instead of young adults. He’s been in a mood all morning, though you aren’t sure if it’s because he really thinks this is ridiculous, or if he’s nervous being back here. The last time he was near these rocks, he was too angry to think about anything else.

“You wanted me to prove it,” you remind him, glancing at him over your shoulder, eyes narrowing. “So I’m proving it.” They aren’t stopping you now that you’re already here.

Bakugou’s gaze darts to Ochako’s, and she gives him a nearly indiscreet nod, urging him to try again. They know that ganging up on you won’t work, but Bakugou has always had a way of talking sense into you. Unfortunately, that won’t work this time. “Come on,” he drawls, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts, expression nothing short of irritated. “This is fucking stupid.”

Another withering glare makes him snort and cross his arms, and you purse your lips. “You said you’d believe me,” you remind him, recalling his promise from that day in the car. Throwing his words back into his face is a low blow, and you know it, but right now you really don’t care.

“That was before you started talking about mermaids and shit,” Bakugou snaps, chest puffing up.

“Merman,” you correct him, knowing it’ll annoy him. The way he grits his teeth is satisfying in itself. “And be nice. I don’t need you scaring him away because you still haven’t figured out how to play well with others.”

Sighing, Iida steps forward. He’s dressed for the beach today, unlike the last time he was here. Aside from the lifesaver tossed over his shoulder, he looks like any other young adult frequenting the beaches in the area. If it was anyone but Iida, you’d think the precaution was mocking, but this is the man that carries a miniature first aid kit in his bag at all times. 

“Mizushima, if this is--”

“It’s not,” you snap at him, a little harsher than intended. The insinuation that this is nothing but a joke or prank is more grating each time one of them suggests it. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t been hallucinating for the last few months, but if I have been, I’m sure Katsuki won’t let me live it down.” You toss him a look over your shoulder. “And don’t you dare call my cousin, Iida!”

You don’t even want to think about how Masaki would react to all of this.

Iida looks like he’s about to say something else, but Kirishima interjects. “Come on, guys, lighten up!” He steps forward and tosses an arm around Bakugou’s neck, pulling the fuming blond down to his height. Bakugou doesn’t look happy about it, but he doesn’t protest either. “So what if it’s just a prank? There’s no harm in her dragging us out here. I mean, it’s not like the rest of us had any plans today.” He offers you a sunny smile that you return with a hesitant one of your own. “Besides, it’s been awhile since we all got to come out here. Gotta say, I kind of missed it!” 

“Thanks, Kiri,” you whisper back, smiling just a bit wider when he throws you a thumbs up. 

His miniature speech only seems to placate Ochako, who links her hands in front of her and gives you a hesitant smile. Iida glances between you and the rocks dubiously, and Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The only one who hasn’t said anything yet is Midoriya, which is unusual. At least he isn’t trying to talk you into leaving like Iida and Bakugou.

Suddenly, Ochako breaks away from the semi-circle your friends have positioned themselves in. She takes two steps toward you, pinning you with a fierce glare, and then her hands smack against either side of your face, squishing your cheeks. “You know this sounds completely crazy, right?” she asks you, brown eyes staring intensely into yours.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, ignoring the curious looks of the boys as they stare at the two of you.

She nods. “And you know I love you anyway, right?”

It’s hard to smile with the way she’s squishing your cheeks, but you manage. “I do.” Ochako has always been your biggest supporter, ever since you were kids. Even if today is an utter disaster, you know she won’t judge you for it--at least, not for too long. You couldn’t ask for a better friend than that.

“Good,” she says, releasing you in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t you dare fall in the water,” Ochako tells you. “Kiri can’t hold us both back if you do.” She means her and Bakugou, of course. The pair are certainly a force to be reckoned with, and you know you’ll have hell to pay if anything terrible happens. Ochako may look cute, but she can have a bit of a mean streak.

Either way, you nod, silently promising that everything will be okay. They’re all looking at you with a nervous flicker in their eyes, like they’re expecting you to slip and fall again, and the thought makes your stomach flip. You can almost feel the water rushing into your lungs. The sting of salt in your throat. “Just, wait here,” you say, stepping away from Ochako and swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Give me five minutes.”

“Three,” Bakugou tells you, crossing his arms. Beside him, Midoriya nods his agreement, hands curled into loose fists at his sides. “Like hell we’re gonna wait here for that long because you wanna be alone with your fish-man, or whatever.” You roll your eyes. “So get moving. And if you fall in the fucking water again, I’ll kill you myself.”

Midoriya, who had been nodding along with Bakugou, jolts at the threat. “Kacchan!” he yelps, green eyes wide with alarm.

Your lips twitch. “Noted.” Without another word, you twist around on your heel and pull yourself onto the rock, the grooves and sharp edges familiar beneath your bare feet. Your friends begin muttering to each other as you climb over the rock, but you don’t dare glance behind you. It’s still early, so the rocks are still damp beneath you. Though the water isn’t deep here, your skin still crawls at the thought of your head beneath water.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your usual spot further out in the water, just out of sight of the shore. You can’t quite see your friends from here, and for a second that makes you nervous, but you take a deep breath, holding it in as your feet press against the surface of the flat rock the six of you can all sit on comfortably.

Slowly, your eyes scan the water’s surface, searching for a glimpse of red or white as you sink down onto the rock, kneeling just inches from the edge. You wet your lips, leaning forward to peer into the ocean. It’s hard to see anything with the sunlight reflecting on the surface, and you bite your lip as a faint pressure settles around your ribcage.

Maybe this was a mistake. You should have just lied to Bakugou again. That would have been easier than whatever the hell you think you’re doing now. You just had to be stubborn about this, but it would have been so much easier to drop the merman conversation and let them all think it was just some big joke. They’d never let you live it down, but you think you’d take that over the nervous fluttering of your heartbeat.

When the water ripples in front of you and a pair of mismatched eyes meet yours under the water, you feel like you can breathe again. You lean back, and Shouto follows you, head emerging from the water as his clawed fingers dig into the side of the rock, using it for leverage as he pulls his shoulders and chest from the water. A few of his spines breach the surface behind him, bright red beneath the sun, and this close you can see his tail swishing lazily in the water.

“Shouto,” you breathe, a tinge of relief palpable on the syllables of his name as they leave your tongue.

He shakes his head, splattering you with saltwater from his hair, and peers at you through his bangs, looking a cross between bored and annoyed. “You’re late,” he tells you, lips curved downward at the edges in a look you’ve grown familiar with in the months that you’ve known him. “You said you’d be here for the sunrise.”

A nervous giggle escapes you, and you open your mouth to tell him that getting your friends anywhere is like herding cats--Ochako is always half asleep, and Bakugou is uncooperative; Iida is the only one prepared on time, but his lectures inevitably make him late anyway--but what slips out instead is a painfully soft, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

He’d been apprehensive when you asked if he would meet your friends, something you couldn’t blame him for. Already, you’re privy to information you shouldn’t be. There’s a reason merfolk aren’t known to the world, and if the wrong person knew about him, it could be disastrous. But these are your friends, and you know they’d never do anything to hurt you or Shouto like that. Even still, you were hesitant to even ask him to show himself, though he was the one to first approach you. 

Somewhere, in a small, quiet part of your heart, you were so sure that he wouldn’t be here waiting for you today.

The admission makes Shouto’s eyes widen. His pupils shrink into catlike slits, before dilating once more, and the spines lining the vertebrae of his tail flare slightly. His tail flicks back, creating a small wave in the water. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, brows furrowing slightly. “I said I would.”

“I know,” you murmur back, shifting enough to slip your legs into the water. Shouto moves with you, perfectly in tune as his eyes follow every subtle shift in your expression. “I just…” He continues to stare as you trail off, and your fingers find the sea glass around your neck. It’s warm beneath your touch. The pressure in your chest loosens as the weight of it presses against your palm. “Are you sure this is okay?” You stress the question, searching his gaze for any hint of refusal or discomfort. 

There’s still enough time for him to turn and disappear back into the water. You have another minute until your friends follow you, and if he wants to go, you’ll let him. Damn the consequences. You’d rather look like a fool than do something you can’t take back. 

But Shouto snorts, pulling himself closer to the rocks, closer to you. His right hand reaches for you, and you shiver as his claws ghost across your skin just above the edge of the water. The heat of his palm sinks into you. When you sigh, he pulls you closer. “They’re your friends.” It’s a reminder instead of an answer to the question, which would be frustrating if he were anyone else. “I trust you,” Shouto adds, softer than before, the low, comforting tone of his voice causing heat to spread through your limbs.

The pad of his thumb rubs against the side of your leg.

“What the fuck?” a deep voice growls from behind you, startling you both.

Shouto rips his hand away from your leg, going rigid as the spines on the back of his tail flare again. His pupils narrow into slits, and his lips curve back over his teeth in a warning as a hissing sound escapes him. His muscles coil, prepared to strike, and your head whips around to meet wide carmine eyes, Bakugou staring at you and Shouto in disbelief. His mouth moves soundlessly. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless by something before, and if the situation was different, you would probably laugh.

The rest of your friends are behind him, expressions varying degrees of shock and disbelief.

You’re quick to reach for Shouto, the merman still growling from the water. The sound breaks off as soon as your fingers brush against his shoulder. His gaze snaps to you, checking to make sure you’re okay before his narrowed eyes slide back to Bakugou, his tail lashing almost violently through the water.

The silence doesn’t last for long. Bakugou glances wildly between you and Shouto, gaze questioning, before he finally settles on the very real, very annoyed merman. “The fuck is this?” he snaps, voice rising in pitch.

Another irritated flick of Shouto’s tail sends droplets of water raining down on the rock. “You must be Bakugou,” Shouto muses, expression carefully blank as he looks over your friend, sizing him up. Snorting, he turns back to you, relaxed and almost bored. “You were right,” he murmurs, just loud enough for everyone else to hear. “He is obnoxious.”

Bakugou’s face twists in rage, and behind him Ochako bursts into a fit of nervous giggles as she continues to stare at Shouto. Kirishima reaches out slowly, one hand grabbing Ochako’s as the other grabs onto the back of Bakugou’s shirt. Beside him, Midoriya is openly gaping at Shouto. You can practically see the thoughts churning through his head as he stares at the merman in wonder. 

Surprisingly, it’s Iida that recovers the fastest. He steps forward, moving around the others, and squints behind his glasses. “Mizushima, what is this?” he asks, repeating Bakugou’s earlier question as his mouth presses into a tight line. Iida has always been a logical man; this isn’t something he knows how to process.

Shouto’s tail twitches again. His eyes slide to Iida’s. “Shouto,” he states, then glances at you. His lips quirk at the edges as he clarifies, “My name,” just like when he first met you. Iida stares. So do the rest. And then--

“Yo, I’m Kirishima! Nice to meet ya, man,” the boy introduces himself, releasing Ochako and Bakugou to walk to the edge of the rock and plop down cross-legged beside you. He grins at Shouto and reaches over to pat you on the back. “Thanks for saving our girl here, we owe ya one!”

You sigh, leaning into Kirishima’s touch. Thank god you brought him here today. His easy acceptance is infectious, and your other friends start to relax as soon as the good natured man offers Shouto a wide smile. It might just be the biology student in Kirishima making him so readily accepting of merpeople, but you’re grateful either way.

“Of course,” is Shouto’s quiet response. His brows furrow a little, like he can’t understand why Kirishima is thanking him for not letting you drown, but he doesn’t comment on it any further.

Iida jolts suddenly, his eyes widening in horror. “Where are my manors?” he sputters, walking stiffly to the edge of the water. He crouches on your other side, one stiff arm shooting out towards Shouto. The merman flinches at the sudden movement. “I’m Tenya Iida. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

Shouto stares at the offered hand, then glances at you. You lift one hand to your mouth to smother your amusement, and Shouto seems to decide Iida’s actions are harmless. Ignoring the handshake, he turns to your unnamed friends. “I suppose that makes you Uraraka and Midoriya,” he guesses, looking between the pair.

Ochako smiles shyly, nodding, and Midoriya looks like he might burst with excitement. He quickly takes Iida’s place as the taller boy steps back, a disgruntled expression on his face that makes you bite back more laughter. 

“That’s right! Oh, man, when Mizushima told us about you, I thought--but wow, you are real!” Midoriya gushes, nearly slipping into the water in his hurry to reach said real merperson. You’re entirely unsurprised when he yanks off his backpack, digging out a notebook and a pen as Shouto stares quizzically. “Hold on, I have so many questions. Are you part fish? Can you breathe underwater? Are there other species of supernatural creatures that actually exist, or are merpeople an outlier. I--”

Ochako slaps her hand over his mouth from behind, cutting him off before he can ramble further. Her smile is warm. “Sorry about him, he gets excited sometimes.”

Things fall into place rather easily after that. Your friends are cautious, but friendly as they speak with Shouto, who calmly and carefully answers their many questions. He lets Midoriya examine his spines, but shifts away from a curious hand, and seems to enjoy a conversation with Kirishima about jellyfish. Even Iida joins the conversation after his shock wears off. Bakugou is the only one that doesn’t speak the entire time you’re here, standing as far away from Shouto and the edge of the rock as he possibly can, glaring.

You stay until the sun rises with the afternoon, and cars begin to pull into the parking lot across the beach, your friends murmuring their goodbyes as they gather their things and begin the careful trek back to the sand, excited chattering left in their wake. Bakugou lingers. So do you.

Once he’s sure the others are far enough away, Bakugou stalks to the edge of the rock, crouching and getting in Shouto’s face. The merman doesn’t flinch, standing his ground. “Hey, half-and-half,” Bakugou growls, lowering his voice so that you can’t hear. “Thanks.” He gestures to his chin towards you, and understanding passes between them. When Shouto gives a nearly imperceptible nod, Bakugou rises back to his feet and reaches over to tousle your hair until you swat at him. “See ya on the shore, squirt.”

“I like them,” Shouto tells you after Bakugou is gone. “They seem… nice.”

You stare at the beach, though you can’t see your friends from where you’re sitting. “Thank you,” you whisper, drawing shouto’s attention. “For doing this. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

He only blinks, head tilting slightly to one side. “You asked me to,” he says, like it’s that simple.

XXX

It’s later that same week when you find yourself back on the rock, the beach strangely empty at midday. There are dark clouds off in the distance, on the edge of the horizon, but the sun is still shining brightly at the moment. There’s a storm coming. The thought should make you nervous, but you’ve never felt anything but inexplicably safe here with Shouto in the water beside you, making lazy circles a few feet from where you’re sitting on the edge with your legs tucked beneath you.

You pull your gaze from the far off storm clouds, turning to Shouto instead, but he’s deep in thought, floating on his back with his tail fins occasionally peeking out of the water. Slowly, your eyes wander across him, taking in the pattern of his tail, the sharp spines you’re careful to stay away from, before moving up his torso to the lean muscle and broad shoulders you always seem to catch yourself staring at. He’s fit, but you reason that he’d have to be to live in the water like he does. Traveling over his neck and strong jaw, you find yourself lingering on his mismatched eyes, the two tones clashing, and the red and raw skin covering the upper left side of his face.

You’ve never asked about the scar. You’ve never had the heart or the stomach to question what could have left what looks like a terrible burn. 

You don’t realize you’ve been staring until the deep timber of his voice pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Does it bother you?” he asks, watching you from where he’s begun treading water just off the edge of the rocks.

Gaze snapping from the vibrant scar covering the side of his face to his eyes, you’re taken aback by the cacophony of emotions flickering in the depths of them. Not shy, but uncomfortable. Perhaps anxious.

It only takes a second for you to realize he’s asking about his scar, and the question makes your chest ache for him. “No,” you answer honestly. “Why would it?”

“It’s ugly,” he tells you, like he’s said it before. Shouto’s tone is bland, empty, like he doesn’t care, but he can’t hide the tightness around his eyes, the hurt. “My mother. She… was unwell.” He’s quiet for several seconds, unsure of how to phrase it, and you wonder if he’s ever told anyone before. “She hated my left side, but it wasn’t her fault.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recall him saying he looks like his father, and something clicks, but you don’t want to push it. “I’m sorry,” you say instead, wincing when the words leave your mouth.

The right corner of his mouth twitches. It’s not a smile. “Me too.”

Absentmindedly, you grasp the pendant around your neck. “It’s part of you, Shouto,” you tell him, so softly that he almost can’t hear you over the sound of the water, but he’s attune to your voice after so many months. He could recognize it anywhere. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

The conversation lulls into nothing, and you search for something to fill the silence when it becomes clear that he won’t.

The silver chain you always wear curls around your finger, the sea glass thumping against your collarbone with every twirl of your hand. His eyes follow the motion, entranced by the steady rhythm, heartbeat echoing the sound. You stop suddenly, the turquoise glass brushing against your knuckles. For a moment, neither of you move, and even the ocean seems to hold its breath, waiting for you to speak. “I never asked,” you murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear over the sound of his own pulse. “But you saved this too, didn’t you?”

Your fingers trace the edge of the teardrop shape, and your eyes rise to meet his, lingering on the jewel-tone of his left side before sliding to the silver of his right.

He nods, edging closer until his claws are buried in the rocks and his delicate fins are pressed against the surface below the water. “I saw you drop it, just before you blacked out, and it was… shining in the water.” You frown, but don’t question it. The water was too dark and murky for you to see that night, but he was born for those depths, able to see what you can’t. “I thought you’d want it back if--” he cuts himself off with a sharp, angry breath and can’t bring himself to finish. Shouto clears his throat. “Besides, sea glass brings luck.”

That makes you pause again. Your brows furrow as you stare at him. “What?”

He shakes his head, waving off your questioning look. “Nothing,” he says. “Just old superstitions.” His tail brushes against the rocks again. “My mother used to tell me that when humans fall into the ocean holding something, it’s usually important to them. She was right.” He gestures to sea glass in your hand, how carefully you’re cradling it. Shouto has never seen you without it, and you keep it close to your heart like something precious.

“Maybe,” you muse, a wry smile pulling at your lips as you draw your knees to your chest, letting the pendant fall back to your chest with a dull thump that only you can hear. “I don’t know if it was that important until after. I probably should have just left it on the beach.”

Shouto pauses, pulling himself a little further out of the water. “What do you mean?”

The far off tone of your voice doesn’t disappear as you say, “I just found it before…” and trail off into nothing. As if just remembering that he’s there, you shift in place, rolling onto your knees and settling your weight onto one hip, using one hand to prop yourself up. “I collect sea glass,” you tell him, realizing the topic has never come up before. “And I’d never seen one this color before.” Shouto nods slowly, silently motioning for you to continue. After a second, you do. “When my parents… left, Masaki used to take me here all the time. Usually after storms. And we’d search the beach for glass or sea shells. Whatever we could find. Then I started coming with my friends, and I guess we never stopped.”

He’s quiet for a long time, attention stolen by the breeze as it ruffles your hair, causing strands to tickle your cheek. “I’m glad,” he says eventually, almost too quiet to hear.

And suddenly you’re close, closer than you’ve ever been before. Your hands leave the rock and hesitate before one settles on his shoulder. Shouto is stiff beneath your gentle touch, claws digging into the rock as his muscles tense. The scent of your skin wraps around him, gripping him like a vice, but it’s different. Unfamiliar. You don’t smell like him--like saltwater.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lips brushing the shell of his ear in a way that has a lick of heat arching up his back. His spines flex in the water, tail jerking suddenly, and you’re so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the damp curve of his jaw. “For saving this, too.” A subtle shift has your lips brushing against the edge of his scar beneath his eye, your breath nervous against the side of his face.

The quickening of your heartbeat makes his own pulse spike. Shouto’s tongue dips out to run across his bottom lip. His silence makes your fingers flex around his shoulder, but before you can release him, he pries one of his hands from the rock. The threat of sharp claws against the back of your neck makes your breath hitch, but he’s nothing but gentle with you. 

“Anytime,” he murmurs back to you, pressing his cheek to yours. The pendant you’re wearing glances off his collarbone, the sea glass warm to the touch.

XXX

“So,” Kirishima muses as the two of you make your way through the supermarket, a basket swinging between you as he grabs various snacks off the shelves, “there are two kinds of mer… people?” He glances down at you for confirmation. Even though you’re all adults now, your friends still get together weekly for movie nights and video games, destressing from school and staying close now that the new semester has started.

You nod slowly, trying to decide between two different brands of candy. “That’s what Shou told me,” you say, offering the candy for him to choose. Kirishima sticks both in the basket, and you roll your eyes. 

He’s been asking you questions about merpeople for the last few weeks since you introduced your friends to Shouto, and his enthusiasm is kind of endearing. They’ve been coming down to the beach with you most mornings now, usually only one or two at a time, which you’ve been grateful for. It’s taken Shouto a while to warm up to them, but he seems to get along well with your friends, especially Midoriya and Iida, though he appears to take some satisfaction in trading quips with Bakugou, who mostly just glares and grumbles under his breath.

“He said there are those born normally, like him, and the ones that are reborn. Drowning victims brought back by Ryujin,” you continue when Kiri looks at you expectantly.

Kirishima nods, accepting the existence of a sea god without so much as a second glance.

And then his steps falter. He nearly drops the basket as his eyebrows furrow in thought. Red eyes peer down at you, and his mouth opens and then closes again. Kirishima clears his throat, a bizarre look on his face. “By normal do you mean, like, hatched?” he asks. “Like, out of an egg?”

You frown, bemused by the unexpected question. Of all the things he could have asked you, that certainly wasn’t one you would have expected. Though, maybe you should have. It was only a matter of time before the biology major in him rose to the surface. “They’re mammals, Kiri, they don’t lay eggs,” you remind him after a moment of stunned silence.

“They could be like a platypus,” he says, turning down the next aisle. An older man sends him an odd look, but Kirishima only grins when the man catches his eye. 

You shake your head, grabbing the basket from him. “I’m almost positive they aren’t,” you say, lips twitching in amused exasperation. “And why do you care about the logistics of their birth anyway?”

He shrugs. “I’m just curious. Aren’t you?”

“About merfolk reproduction?” you clarify. “Not really.” Honestly, you haven’t thought about it. The fact that merpeople can spring into existence through the divine powers of a sea god was curious, sure, but for all you know merpeople like Shouto could be born the same way. You hadn’t thought to ask for clarification, and, frankly, you aren’t sure you want any. That’s not a question you feel comfortable asking your friend.

Kirishima rubs the back of his head and straightens his headband. “Really? I thought--nevermind.” Whatever he was about to say makes his eyes widen, and he clams up, a faint blush spreading from his cheeks to the roots of his hair like an awful sunburn.

You stop walking, looking at him out of the corner of your eye as you grab Ochako’s favorite snack off the shelf. “What?” He shakes his head, avoiding your eyes as he shuffles uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Thought what, Kiri?” Huffing, you prop your hands up on your hips, lips pressed into a thin line as you stare him down. 

It works; it always does. Even Bakugou usually gives in with a fierce enough look, and Kirishima is much more agreeable than his explosive best friend.

“I just thought it was something you might need to know,” he admits, voice a little bit softer than before, “considering, y’know? I’d say he’s pretty interested.”

Well, that’s not what you were expecting. Your lips part in shock, but your tongue feels thick and heavy in your mouth, and you gape at him like a fish out of water for a solid seven seconds. “Excuse me?” you finally sputter out. Your skin feels itchy and hot all of a sudden, and the way your pulse quickens is nothing short of embarrassing.

“What?” Kirishima’s head tilts to the side cutely. “I’m just saying. Merman doesn’t doesn’t take his eyes off you whenever you’re around. Even when you and Ochako went for a walk on the beach the other day, he was still watching to make sure you were okay.” You frown, and he holds up his hands placatingly. “Not that there’s a problem with that! He seems protective, and that’s pretty manly!” You still don’t say anything. Kirishima’s brows furrow as he tries to explain it. “It’s like he swallows you with his eyes and doesn’t leave anything for the rest of us.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, processing the new information buzzing through your head. Does Shouto stare at you? You aren’t blind. You know he likes to keep an eye on you when you’re walking around on the rocks. It’s not like you can blame him, when you only met because you slipped and nearly drowned. But on the beach too? 

The thought leaves a pleasantly warm feeling bubbling in your stomach, but you shove the feeling away, choosing not to think too hard about it. It’s probably only because you’re familiar. 

You wet your lips. “Have you been reading internet poetry again?”

Kirishima blushes deeper. “Yes,” he admits. “Sero’s been sending me some, but that’s not the point.” He takes the basket from you when you roll your eyes. “The point is, don’t you want to know what goes on if you ever try to… you know.” He makes a vague gesture with his hands that you never want to see again. “Like, what if it is eggs?”

“Oh my god, please stop talking,” you whine, turning on your heel to walk away from him. This is not what you wanted to be thinking about tonight. “They don’t lay eggs.”

Kirishima is right behind you. “So you’re saying it’s sperm then? Do you think that’s why the ocean is so salty?” It’s obvious he’s joking now, just trying to get a reaction out of you--or maybe the biology nerd in him is just coming out full force. Either way, you want no part in this conversation.

“You’re disgusting.”

A laugh slips out of his mouth. He grabs your wrist before you can storm off and yanks you against his side, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Wait, wait, I’m sorry,” he says, cracking up harder. You shove his shoulder, rolling your eyes, but he doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry,” he says again once his laughter subsides, much more sincere this time. His arm squeezes around you. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know,” you murmur, giving in to his embrace. It’s hard to resist a hug from Kirishima. “Now never talk to me about merperson sex ever again.” You don’t want to think about Shouto’s hypothetical merman penis while raiding a grocery store for snacks.

“Okay,” he agrees, leading you through the store towards the check-out. And then-- “Since you're so sure it’s not eggs, do you think it’s more like a dolphin?”

You throw his arm away from you. “Is this a kink, Kiri?” you ask him. “Are you into merpeople now?” You almost ask if he wants you to fuck Shouto, or if he’d rather do it himself, but bite your tongue at the last second. “I’m telling Bakugou and Ochako that this is what you think about.”

A sharp pinch to your side makes you squeal, and Kirishima chuckles as you swat at him in return.

You don’t think about the conversation again until later that night. You end up squished onto the couch between Kirishima and Ochako, and all of you are half asleep as you idly listen to Bakugou and Iida argue about what movie to watch next--some explosive action movie or a documentary, respectively--while Midoriya mediates, and you’re thoughts take a sudden sharp turn. 

It’s Kirishima’s fault for putting the thought in your head, and you jerk fully awake, feeling like the ground has dropped out from underneath you. Your pulse jumps, skin itchy and hot at the thought of Shouto’s mouth and hands on you. Shuddering, you squeeze your thighs together. Imagining the weight of him against you makes heat pool in your lower belly. Your mouth feels dry. 

It’s an impossibility. He isn’t interested; you shouldn’t be.

Noticing you’re awake, the boys arguing on the floor pause to look at you. “What’s with that stupid look?” Bakugou asks, narrowing his eyes. For once, you’re grateful that he’s an asshole most of the time. It gives you something to think about that isn’t your merman friend’s biological functions.

“Mizushima, what’s your opinion on the films?” Iida questions.

You glance at the television and blanch. “Please, don’t make me watch Blue Planet, or whatever it’s called, right now, Iida.”

Beside you, Kirishima shakes with muffled laughter.

XXX

Sea glass glitters in the sun beside you, colors ranging from off-white to orange to deep blues and greens that you’ve rarely ever seen before. You’ve gathered a small handful since telling Shouto about your collection. It isn’t every day, but some mornings he’ll hand you bits and pieces of weathered glass that he’s found in the open water. He’s careful to gauge your expression, watching the way your eyes light up with a hesitance that melts into satisfaction when you smile, pleased with himself.

Your toes dip into the gentle lull of the waves when he isn’t looking, his stare far off, brows furrowed like he’s thinking hard about something. “Shouto,” you call to him, barely audible over the rhythmic crash of the ocean against the rocks; he hears you, gaze snapping sideways to meet yours, and the jewel-tone of his left eye makes your heart lurch. The questioning stare he pins you with is replaced with shock as you flick water at him.

His disgruntled expression makes you giggle, but he doesn’t wipe away the droplets of saltwater that slide down his cheek and jaw before dripping back into the ocean. The sunlight makes his skin shimmer, and the teasing line of water that rolls down the side of his neck is nothing short of distracting.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, brushing the stay thought from your mind. He’s been oddly distracted today, staying a little further away from the rocks than usual, a deep furrow to his brow that usually isn’t there anymore. You roll a piece of sea glass between your fingers, a few shades paler than his blue eye and the pendant you’ve worn around your neck for what feels like years now. 

“You.”

The blunt response makes your head snap up. Suddenly, he’s closer than he has been all morning.

The palm of his hand cups your calf, his long fingers wrapping gently around your leg as he tugs you closer to the edge of the rock, careful not to prick you with his clawed fingertips. Shouto is warm despite the seawater, and you shiver as droplets roll down your skin in little streams, leaving behind trails of salt. His grip is loose at first, but tightens when you don’t pull away.

Shouto stares up at you from the water, and the hand that isn’t gripping your leg presses against the rocks beside your thigh, using the leverage to pull himself part way out of the water. It’s still too far away, but the distance makes your breath catch as he leans in just an inch. “You look beautiful in the sunlight.” He says it like it’s a fact, something you should already know, and your lips part in shock.

The wicked look that flickers in his eyes cuts off any response you might have had, and then he shoves himself away from you, just like the first time you met. He rolls backwards in the water once he’s a safe distance away, mindful of the sharp spines protruding from his fins. The tip of his tail flicks up and out of the water, and you squeal as he splatters you with seawater.

“Dick,” you call out as soon as he resurfaces, making Shouto chuckle as he swims back towards the rock you’re perched on. His palm finds its way back to your leg, fingers slotting around you like it’s natural, and you press your leg into his touch, liking the rough scrape of his skin against yours. “What are you really thinking about?”

“You,” he says again, but his amusement dims and his eyes narrow again, catlike slits. “It’s not safe for you to come out this far when you can’t swim.” He glances at the ocean surrounding him and grimaces. 

A frown pulls at your own lips, confusion surging through you at the unexpected discussion. In all the months that you’ve known him, you wonder why it took this long for the question to come up, and why he seems so concerned. “I can swim,” you tell him, a little laugh slipping from your lips. His lips turn down and his head tilts to the side, and you huff, half-heartedly flicking more water towards him. “Maybe not as well as you, but not all of us were born in the water like you, Shou.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Why would you think I can’t swim?”

The answer is probably obvious, in hindsight, but it still startles you when he says, “You never come in the water.”

And that’s it, isn’t it. There’s a denial on the tip of your tongue, but it sticks there, refusing to be spoken. Because he’s right. In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never done more than dip your legs into the water, and that’s only when he’s nearby. When he’s not, you rarely leave the safety of the sand. It hits you like a blow to the ribs. Phantom pain laces across your chest, and your breath hitches, so subtle that Shouto wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t so close.

A bitter thought crosses your mind. You only met him because you came out to the rocks to prove to yourself that you weren’t a coward, but it was never the rocks that scared you, was it?

Not liking the train of thought, you force a smile and try to ignore the feeling of your lungs filling up with water. “I don’t like to get my hair wet in the morning. Not all of us are naturally resistant to salt.” You brush a strand of red hair away from his eyes, the texture silky.

But Shouto isn’t convinced. “Even when you’re here with your friends, you’re always sitting in the sand,” he says, slowly, gauging your reaction to the observation. “I just thought--” And he cuts off quickly, seeming to realize what you already have.

“I can swim,” you tell him again, not as confident this time.

The way your voice trembles is answer enough for his next question, but Shouto asks it anyway, blunt and unapologetic. “Are you afraid?”

You’re silent for a long time, and Shouto squeezes your calf. “I don’t know,” is your whispered confession.

His thumb strokes the side of your leg, so, so careful as his claws slide across your delicate skin. “Do you…” The way he trails off makes you look at him, and Shouto wets his lips, eyes searching yours almost desperately. “Will you trust me?”

What he’s really asking makes you tense. The water is suddenly freezing around your legs, and your hand grasps the sea glass dangling against your chest. “What if the current pulls me under again?”

“It won’t.” I won’t let it, he doesn’t say out loud, but you hear it anyway.

You’re slow to answer, searching his gaze in return. Finding what you’re looking for, you murmur, “Okay.” 

Shouto stays close to the rock as you pull your legs from the water and stand. You reach for your clothes, hesitating, but under his patient gaze you peel your shirt over your head, dropping it to the dry surface behind you. Your shorts follow, leaving you more naked than you’ve been in months. You’re so busy staring at the waves that you don’t see the greedy way his eyes take you in, drinking in the sight of your bare skin until he reaches your face and his expression softens completely. You really do look beautiful in the sunlight.

When you sit back on the edge of the rock, legs once again dangling in the water, you tense, heart in your throat as your pulse spikes. You almost pull away, but Shouto’s hand on your leg stops you. His palm slides over your knee, your thigh, and his clawed fingers curl around your hip. There’s no push or pull to his touch, he just holds you there, waiting for you to make the choice.

A shudder runs through you as you shift your hips, slowly sinking down in the water. It swallows you up, cold water rushing around your legs until it reaches your waist. Shouto never lets you go, and his hand is warm and steadying against your side, holding back the flood of panic threatening to choke your lungs.

“Watch your feet,” he murmurs, angling his tail away from your vulnerable skin.

The water reaches your chest, and suddenly the ocean is calm around you, the ebb and flow of the currents seeming to disappear as your arms wrap around Shouto’s neck, trusting him to hold you up. Neither of you move, floating mere feet away from the rocks. Your heart pounds in your chest, threatening to burst, but the gentle roll of the waves lull you.

You shiver from the cold, but Shouto is warm against your front, and you lean into his chest, tucking your head against his neck and letting the saltwater scent of him wrap around you. Being in the water again is like coming home, and for the first time since since you nearly drowned a sense of peace washes over you.

“That’s it, love,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your temple as he feels you relax. He pulls you tighter against his chest, one strong arm banded around your waist. His other hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, helping you tuck yourself beneath his chin. It causes the water to lap at your lower jaw, but Shouto chases away your fear with a gentle hand and quiet praise.

You can’t be sure how much time passes like that, but eventually your eyes slip shut, and your breathing evens out. Shouto nuzzles against your hair, a quiet purring sound rumbling deep in his chest, the vibrations soothing you. “Good?” he murmurs, breath hot against your exposed ear.

You nod, half-asleep, and it’s hard to pull yourself from the curve of his shoulder and neck, but you want to see his eyes. Shouto’s nose bumps against yours as he tilts his chin to look at you, surprised by your movement, and he tenses, eyes locked with yours and lips a breath away. “Thank you,” you murmur, almost able to taste the salt on his skin.

His throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he leans down an inch, just to press his forehead to yours. Shouto’s claws flex against the back of your neck, almost nervous, and he looks at you like he wants to speak, but only nods. 

His lips brush against your hairline as he tucks you safely back beneath his chin.

XXX

It’s nearly midnight when you make your way down to the beach, the full moon shining overhead, brighter than you’ve ever seen it. Masaki is gone for the night, and your house was too quiet, too lonely for you to stay in, unable to fall asleep. And your first thought was Shouto. You have no way of knowing if he’ll be here tonight. You never meet this late, and yet you find yourself searching for him regardless.

A large part of you felt like you needed to be here tonight, an inexplicable urge to see him overtaking you, though you already saw him once today, early in the morning. He seemed agitated then, pacing in the water more than usual, his tone gruff and snappish. You didn’t ask why, and he seemed to calm down quickly enough once you slipped into the water beside him.

Shouto practically wrapped himself around you when you did, purring as he rubbed his cheek against yours and pulled you close to his chest. Even his tail brushed against you more than usual, almost like he was trying to coax you to play.

You set his odd behavior aside as you settle into your usual spot on the rocks, legs slipping into the water on the flat of the stone, a sheer cliff disappearing into the water for twenty feet until it reaches the bottom. The hem of your dress flirts with the surface of the water, but you don’t pay it a second thought. The seawater will wash out.

“Shouto?” you call out across the waves, a distant splash causing your head to snap up. Your legs become still in the water, eyes searching for him, but the sea breeze and waves are the only sound, and you must have imagined it. Leaning back on your hands, you sigh, staring up at the moon. Pale light reflects off the water, the moon’s reflection far off on the horizon.

You shriek as something grabs you beneath the water, lashing out with your legs. Clawed fingers wrap around your legs, pinning them against the rocks. You choke on a gasp, eyes wide, but your heart slows when you see a familiar head breach the surface of the water. “Dammit, Shouto,” you breathe, giggling lightly as you shake your head. “You scared me.”

When he doesn’t respond, you glance at him, the moon so full and bright that you’re able to see him perfectly, despite the dark.

Your breath catches when you really look at the merman. For the first time since you met him, he looks utterly inhuman, and the sight makes your heart stutter in your chest. His pupils are slits, silver and turquoise swallowing the black until his eyes appear bottomless, so easy to drown in. Lips curved back over his sharp teeth, there's a flicker of hunger in his eyes as they settle on you. Something feral and wanting.

“You shouldn’t be in the water tonight, love,” he tells you, voice lower than usual, deeper, almost a growl. The shock of it rumbles through you; it makes you shiver. His claws drag against the soft skin of your leg, curling around you, and for the first time you feel the threatening prick of them. The hint of danger slams the breath from your lungs, and your heart pounds against your ribs as his hand slowly moves higher.

Taken aback by his touch, you do nothing to stop him. “Have you,” you cut off, sucking in a sharp breath as he nudges your legs apart. “Have you been here all afternoon?” You weren’t expecting this when you came down here tonight, and the way he’s touching you is making it hard to think. He’s never acted like this before. At least not around you. And it’s throwing you for a loop.

He shakes his head, claws digging into the rock. The hand curled just beneath your knee tugs you forward. You yelp, slipping down the side until you’re balanced precariously on the edge, your fingers digging into the rock to hold yourself up as he pulls your legs apart. “I could smell you,” he murmurs, purring as his mouth presses against your inner thigh, dangerously close to the line of your panties. He nuzzles you, breathing growing heavier as he drinks in your scent. 

It should be embarrassing, but the way his tongue laves attention to your thigh has heat pooling in your belly. Your breathing quickens, and with one shaky hand you reach out, holding onto his shoulder for balance as wicked, sharp teeth nip at you. Your hips lurch, and Shouto’s claws dig into your thigh, not enough to hurt you, but the minor jolt of pain makes you whimper. The hem of your dress is drenched in seawater, and the fabric slides wetly over the tops of your thighs as Shouto shoves the fabric upward, giving himself more access to your sinfully smooth skin.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder as he presses slow, wet kisses across the inside of your thigh, mouth wandering, tasting you. “Shouto,” you gasp as he hikes your knee over his shoulder, giving himself greater access to you as your leg dangles down his back, seawater dripping from your skin to his. Mewling, you arch into his touch as his tongue drags across the crease between your thigh and your core. He mouths at you, and the sensation of sharp teeth on your sensitive skin makes you jolt. “Shouto,” you call his name again, “what are you doing?”

A pointless question when his head is buried between your thighs, his teeth and tongue running along your soft skin, tasting and touching as he drags quiet sounds from your mouth.

Your hips jerk, a keening cry escaping you as his teeth press down. He jolts at the sound, ripping himself away from you. A swear is hissed between his teeth. His pupils are wider when they lock with yours, wavering between lucid and feral slits. “I--I’m sorry,” he stutters, panting, claws digging into the rock beside you. “You need to… you need to go home,” he tells you firmly, glaring as he tries to pull himself from your sweet taste. “The full moon,” he continues before you can ask him why. “It makes us… frenzied, and… you smell really good.”

The way he purrs at the end of his statement makes you shiver in anticipation. You wet your lips. “What do I smell like?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“Me,” he growls, clearly pleased with himself. When you don’t pull away, he descends on you again, and you flush as his lips brush against the front of your underwear, tongue flicking out to taste the damp spot forming between your legs. “But sweeter,” he adds, a deep rumble in his chest.

“Shouto,” you whine, hand moving to the back of his head. 

Your fingers thread through his hair, and he purrs again when you tug, trying to pull him closer. “Don’t,” he snaps, pressing another chaste kiss to your thigh. “I can’t--I’m not myself like this.” His breathing is heavier than before, and he shudders. “I want to--” His fingers dig into your thigh.

“Want to what, Shou?” you find yourself asking, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

His answer is immediate, a warning growl. “Breed you.”

It dawns on you then, why he was so strange earlier in the day, and why he’s acting like this now. It’s some kind of rut, or whatever they might call it. And, distantly, it makes sense. The moon controls the tides, the psyche. For creatures born from the waves, it must have some power over them as well. And he wants you. Shouto is giving you an out, a chance to run, and you should take it. It would be better to talk about this tomorrow, when he’s more himself, but then his sharp teeth nip at the meat of your inner thigh again, and you let him spread your legs wider.

“Please,” you murmur, head tilting back as he presses his face between your thighs, kitten licks toying with your clit through your panties. Each lap at your slit and sensitive bundle of nerves sends heat rushing between your thighs, and your breathing grows heavy, the pleasure almost unbearable and he’s hardly touched you. He shifts in the water, glancing up at you from between your legs, and the sight makes your core clench around nothing. “Shouto, don’t stop.”

Something flickers in his eyes.

He drags you into the water with him.

A gasp tears from your mouth, your eyes widening as he spins you around, shoving your chest against the rocks. Your short dress tangles around your thighs until he yanks it upwards, the fabric billowing in the water. He reaches around you, palming your breast through your dress, and the thin, soaked fabric clings to you, making the friction even better. The threat of his claws on your chest makes you whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder. Shouto holds you up easily in the water, tail flicking wildly beneath you. His hips press against yours from behind, smooth and flat, and your eyes flutter shut as his sharp teeth press against the side of your throat.

A hazy thought of how he plans to fuck you crosses your mind, but then something long and thick slides from a slit you never noticed in the top of his tail. You shudder as he ruts against you from behind, cock sliding wetly between your thighs. It’s slick and smooth on the sides, curved at the tip, and you moan as a long line of ridges along the top rub against your clit through your panties.

“Shouto,” you whimper, thighs squeezing around the hard length pressed between your legs. He grunts against your neck, sliding between your thighs easily, leaving them sticky with some kind of thick fluid that makes your skin feel hot.

One clawed hand wanders down the front of your torso, nearly ripping your dress in two. You arch against him, spreading your legs in the water as his long tail nudges between your knees, holding you open to the hand that slips between your legs. The tip of one claw traces your slit, and he pins you against the ledge to keep you from squirming as the smooth side of his claw rubs against your clit. He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming, begging for him to do something, as your breathing grows uneven. Sharp teeth bite down on the curve of your shoulder, and your stomach flips as he hooks his claw around the scrap of fabric between your legs, slicing through your panties with ease.

The head of his cock presses against your pussy, more of that sticky fluid smearing against your skin as those ridges slide over your clit. Whimpering, your head falls back. Your hands reach around to grab his hair, his shoulders, anything within your reach, trusting him to hold you up.

“Mine,” he growls against the back of your neck, his hand sliding beneath your dress to press against your stomach. His hips pull back and snap forward just as quickly, and you moan as the head of his cock slips inside you. Each rock of his hips forces him deeper inside you, filling you inch by inch until you can barely breathe. He’s thick, bigger than you thought, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you until there’s nowhere left untouched. You should be uncomfortably full, but the slick fluid dripping from his cock and the ridges rubbing against you have nothing but pleasure coiling inside you.

The pace he picks up is harsh, fast, his cock thrusting inside of you roughly. His breath is hot against your ear, and his teeth are pressed to the thin skin of your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath the threat of his jaws tearing into you. 

Your walls clench down around him.

Shouto purrs, palm pressing firmly against your belly. You moan and gasp, choked sounds are the only noises you’re able to make as the ridges on his cock rub against your sweet spot with every stroke against your sensitive inner walls. 

Your pleasure builds rapidly, coiling tightly between your legs until you’re trembling against him. Shouto’s claws flick over your nipple, rolling it carefully with his fingers, and the hand on your stomach slinks lower, dipping between your thighs to rub against your swollen clit until you come around his cock.

Another purr rumbles through his chest into yours, and Shouto’s pace speeds up even further as you clench around him, squirming. 

You don’t know how long he fucks you like this, the pleasure overwhelming you as he pulls another orgasm from your boneless, breathless body. His cock twitches inside of you, seeming to swell, and his teeth dig into the curve of your shoulder and neck, drawing blood as he spills himself inside you.

“You called me yours,” you say, later, half asleep on the rocks, exhausted from your time in the water with him.

He huffs, looking down at you like it should be obvious. “I’ve been courting you for months,” he murmurs, voice muffled as he dips his chin to press his mouth against the side of your neck, mindful not to pinch you with his sharp teeth. The solid weight of him settles on top of you, his chest pressed against yours. His tongue slides out to lap at the wound on your neck. There must be something in his saliva as well, because the ache is gone as quickly as it starts.

“What?” you ask, eyes widening.

“The sea glass,” he tells you, purring as you reach around him, stroking his bare back. He nuzzles against your neck, kissing down your throat and occasionally licking the salt from your skin. “It’s...It’s what you give to lovers,” is what he tells you, hesitantly, like you might be mad.

But you reach for him, cradling his jaw and stroking his cheeks. “Does that make you mine?”

Shouto leans down to kiss you for the first time, so softly that your heart starts to ache.

XXX

Like so many nights before, you find your feet taking you to the beach, to the rocks that have become a second home to you over the last few months, to Shouto. A piece of your heart burns as you think of him, your chest filling with unimaginable heat. Your stomach churns as your thoughts sour, wondering how long things might last. Seeing each other so rarely, being different species. It won’t work, in the end, but you want to stay. You’ll stay as long as he lets you.

Your lips curve upward as soon as you see him waiting for you.

For a moment, you think he’s asleep. That he was only sunning himself on the rocks, soaking in the last rays of daylight before the sunset disappeared, and he lost track of time. He doesn’t look up as you approach, footsteps nearly silent as you traverse the rocks, knowing exactly where to step. You’ve become decent at sneaking up on him, but he always notices you before you can truly surprise him. His senses are too sharp; he’s too in-tune with you.

Dread crawls down your throat and chokes you, strangling your heart when you see blood smeared across the rocks. The faint smile quirked on your lips disappears as your eyes snap up, locking on his tense frame. You’re close enough to hear him now, muttering something in a language you don’t understand, trembling with the effort it takes to hold himself up. The sight of him makes you sick.

His back is to you, his wild stare cast out over the sea, and you’re close enough to see the long, bloody gashes stretching across his back. Deep and curved, they’ve ripped through his flesh like tissue paper. Claw marks, you realize. They’re claw marks. The spines jutting from his tail are damaged too, some snapped and jagged in places, and they seem to ooze where they’ve been broken in two, clear fluid dripping down onto his tail.

You don’t think when you lurch forward, raw panic surging inside you. Dropping to your knees beside him, you grasp his shoulder, a breathless, “Shouto,” falling from your lips.

He goes rigid beneath your gentle touch, head snapping up and around, pupils shrunken into animalistic slits. You can’t blame him for his defensive reaction. Still half-turned away, his tail snaps up and out. He lashes out, bleeding and hurt. Instinct drives him to it. 

The undamaged spines stop inches from piercing through your flesh, aimed for your chest and throat, a startled sound escaping you. Your fingers tremble where they hover just inches above his arm, heart stuttering, Your chest feels tight, suddenly, like something is gripping you and squeezing, and it makes phantom pain shoot through your ribcage. 

Shouto chokes out your name in the most broken, horrified tone you’ve ever heard. His spines flex, flaring, and the delicate edge of one almost lovingly brushes against your cheek. “I--I didn’t.” He’s still staring at you, looking pale and sickly under the moonlight. Claws scrape across the ground before he reaches for you, stopping before he can touch you. Tension makes his fingers tremble. He’s still coiled tightly, like might lunge for you, or throw himself into the water.

It takes a moment for your heart to slow, the sudden spark of fear bleeding away into nothing as he stares at you. Carefully, you shift away from his spines, movements painfully slow. Shouto follows you with his eyes, holding his breath. He’s stopped stuttering apologies, his jaw clenched.

When you reach forward to cup his jaw, he melts into your touch, shuddering. Your thumbs stroke across his cheeks, slow soothing motions that coax him to relax, to trust you. A soft, apologetic sound rumbles in his throat, and Shouto tilts his cheek into your touch, lips brushing against the side of your palm. “What happened?” you whisper as his pupils widen, dilating as your sweet scent washes over him.

Shouto stiffens at the question, but your soft hands and gentle touch quell the cacophony of emotions swelling inside him.

His tongue flicks out across his lips, and his tail twitches again. Shouto shifts his lower-half away from you, but can’t bring himself to pull away from you entirely. Even if he wanted to, you wouldn’t let him go far. Each subtle shift and flex of his body is mirrored by you, not giving him a moment to overthink your momentary fear. 

Silence threatens to consume you both before he finally speaks. “My father found out about you,” he eventually admits, allowing you to run your fingers through his damp hair. The pad of your thumb brushes the underside of a cut across his temple, and your distress makes his stomach churn. “He wasn’t pleased.”

Outrage makes your throat tighten. “So he attacked you?” you ask in disbelief, voice strained.

“This is how our kind settle disagreements,” Shouto tells you. A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop. His tail goes lax on the rocks, the forked fins at the bottom handing over the edge and dipping into the water. “I’ll be fine,” he promises, reaching up to cover one of your hands with his. Rough lips press against your palm again, so tender that your heart begins to ache. “We heal quickly.”

You want to argue. Want to check the wounds on his back. But you can see that he isn’t lying. Already, the horrid gashes across his back are starting to close, wounds clotting. What’s left of the blood is diluted from the water dripping down his skin, leaving watery red lines painted across his ribs, like the stripes on his tail.

Before you can speak, Shouto moves again, propping himself up with his tail and reaching for you. Your hands fall to his shoulders, and this time it’s his hands cradling your jaw so carefully, like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held. “Are you all right?” The tip of his nose brushes against your temple as he pulls you to his chest, arms winding around your back. 

“You scared me,” you admit to him, so softly that he almost doesn’t hear you. When your words reach him, he tenses, wincing. “Not because of that,” you’re quick to say, sinking into him. The tips of your fingers brush against a wound on the back of his neck. It turns silver before your eyes. “You weren’t moving.”

His chest rumbles with a purr, and your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to your forehead, holding them there in a lingering kiss. “I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, grip tightening around you. He makes another quiet sound deep in his throat, hands stroking over your back and sides reassuringly. 

A sharp pain licks across your side when his palm smooths over your ribs. Before you can stop it, a soft cry escapes you, and Shouto jerks back. Mismatched eyes find yours and narrow when he sees you wince. Then, his gaze snaps to your side, hand wrenching away from you as the color drains from his face. “Blood,” he murmurs, staring at the red smear across his palm. “Are you bleeding?”

Panic creeps into his tone. The shirt you’re wearing is too dark to tell, but you whimper as his palm presses back to your side. It’s like your ribs have been bruised again, but so much worse. Fire flares across your ride side when you breathe, crawling beneath your skin.

You don’t feel it when Shouto yanks the side of your shirt upwards, claws digging into the fabric and tearing. “No,” you hear him whisper, a desperate, broken sound. He swears. 

The cut across your ribs is small, shallow, but it bleeds slowly. Already, your skin is inflamed around the wound, puffy and red. The cause is obvious, and your whimper rips his heart from his chest. Shouto’s blood runs cold. His hands shake as he holds you up. 

The venom works quickly. It paralyzes you. The heat burning beneath your skin is unbearably hot, and you can’t breathe.

“Shouto,” you whisper as he pulls you to his chest. “What’s going on?” Everything is foggy, muffled, like you’re underwater. Even the sound of his voice calling out your name is starting to slip away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he sputters, voice cracking. “I don’t--I didn’t--fuck, I’m so sorry, love.” He can’t fix this. He hurt you, and there’s nothing he can do to stop his venom from sinking into your flesh and blood now that it’s already there. Dammit, he should have checked you right away--but even if he had it would have been too late. One second, an instant of his control slipping. That’s all it takes for him to hurt people, and he knows that. Merfolk have no cure for his venom, but your kind do. There’s a cure for the venom of the lionfish he so closely resembles.

But he’s bigger than a lionfish.

“Shouto?” you whimper again, not understanding. You can’t breathe. Why can’t you breathe?

You pitch forward suddenly, and Shouto hushes you, lowering you onto the rock as he strokes your hair. Too weak to pull himself over the ledge earlier, the two of you are kneeling where the rock gently slopes into the water, and the currents cause small waves to lap at you. Seawater soaks into your clothes as he sets you down on your side, hands hovering inches from your skin, afraid to touch you. The sea glass pendant you’re wearing slips into the water.

The currents slow, and the turquoise glass glows beneath the moon as it sinks beneath the surface. 

Shouto rolls you to your back, careful not to touch the festering wound on your side. Your eyes are half-lidded when he leans over you, nose nudging your cheek, needy as he waits for a response. There isn’t one. He tries purring again, trying to soothe you like his mother always did for him, but you’re so far gone to the venom, already half-way lost to him.

The ocean ripples behind him, the water parting as a long, serpentine head breaches the surface. Shouto doesn’t notice, still leaning over you, voice low and hushed as he begs you to move, to open your eyes, but your chest is struggling weakly now, each breath slow and painful.

A catlike, slitted pupil locks on Shouto, then you, drifting between your bodies to the necklace you wear. “So this is where it’s been,” a voice muses. A sleek, dark mass moves beneath the surface of the water, a long body writhing and twisting around itself.

Shouto’s head snaps up, and his eyes are rimmed in red as they connect with vibrant, blue irises set into a long, scaled face. Dark horns protrude from the creatures head. Fins the same deep shade of blue flutter against the creature's face, and lips curve back to reveal a row of sharp fangs.

Breath caught in his throat, Shouto can only stare at the creature he’s only heard about in tales and stories. The sea god. The dragon god. A name sticks on Shouto’s tongue, but he doesn’t dare speak it, not with the monstrous dragon rising out of the water.

“Little lost fragment,” the sea god speaks, voice soft and deep. The dragon reaches for you, one long claw brushing against your chest, the tip coming to rest over the sea glass pressed over your struggling heart. Turquoise light crackles beneath the dragon’s touch, and Shouto’s heart lurches into his throat. It isn’t sea glass at all. It never was. 

“Humans shouldn’t play with things they don’t understand,” Ryujin muses, tone caught somewhere between vengeful and sympathetic. His claw hooks beneath the chain around your throat, but doesn’t pull. The pendant above your heart loses it’s glow, the dragon reclaiming its power before releasing you.

A wet crackle leaves Shouto as he tries to speak. “How--” he starts, cutting off as Ryujin’s eye cuts back to him, silencing him.

“It called to me,” the dragon god states plainly, answering what Shouto couldn’t ask. For months he searched for the fragment of his precious stones, sensing it had been claimed. A wish is owed. Ryujin glances down at you again, a low sound rumbling through his chest like thunder. “You’ve killed her,” he continues, eyeing the wound on your side and the spines flaring on Shouto’s tail. “And such a pretty thing.”

Shouto bristles, baring his teeth at the god. A growl rips from deep in his chest, but the dragon only looks at him, amused. “Can you save her?” Shouto snaps, staring his god in the eyes.

The dragon blinks at him, slow and amused. “I can.”

Tongue flicking out over his dry lips, Shouto asks the question he knows could have dire consequences, desperation outweighing fear. “What will it cost?” He should know better than to make demands of a god, but if it means saving you, he’d do anything.

“What will you give?” Ryujin asks instead.

Shouto looks at you, so still beneath him. So silent. Your chest isn’t moving anymore. Your heartbeat is slow and falling silent as well. “Everything,” he says, reaching up to stroke his knuckles across your cheek, willing you to open your eyes for him, to smile one more time. He swallows down the lump in his throat, glaring at the god. “I’ll give you everything.”

Ryujin laughs. He sneers at Shouto, baring his fangs. “Foolish boy,” the dragon calls him, snorting, breath hot as it fans across the merman’s face. “I’ll accept your deal.” The dragon lashes out suddenly, clawed fingers grasping Shouto’s tail, making the merman gasp. “And I’ll take what’s mine.”

Before Shouto can protest, he’s ripped under the water, dragged to the bottom as the serpent rips him out to sea. He tenses, struggling, but the spines jutting from his tail snap beneath the sea god’s grip, bouncing harmlessly off the dragon’s thick scales. The god’s claws dig into his flesh, ripping through tissue and bone, and Shouto cries out as his blood diffuses in the water. Iron coats his tongue, choking him, and water rushes down his throat as he forgets to hold his breath.

“So quick to leave the water. Never thinking of the consequences.” Ryujin’s voice rumbles through his head. A sharp claw presses just below Shouto’s waist, sinking deep into his flesh. “Submerge yourself in salt and be cast back to the seafoam you come from.”

The dragon rips his tail in two.

XXX

Your eyes snap open. Heart in your throat, you’re unable to move for several long seconds. Your head hurts, your thoughts hazy. The side of your ribs ache in a way they haven’t in months, and you lie there, trying to recall how you got here. 

Waves lap at your bare toes, and you know you’re on the beach without having to look. Sand and salt stick to your skin as you shift, a shuddering breath escaping from your parted lips as you sit up and stare across the water. 

Memories come back to you, ebbing and flowing like the tides, bits and pieces coming together as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. The pain of his spine burying itself in your side. The fear in his eyes. A warm breath fanning over your face; a thunderous voice calling you back. Calling you home.

You remember dying.

A low groan disrupts your train of thought, and your head snaps toward the sound. Your breath catches when you see him lying next to you, on his back in the sand. “Shouto,” you gasp, lurching towards him, throwing yourself on top of him. He grunts, eyes shooting open as your weight presses down on top of him. Like last time, he recoils, ready to strike, but then his bicolored eyes find yours and it’s like the breath is ripped from his lungs. 

Shouto stares up at you in shameless wonder, lips parting, but no sound escaping his raw throat. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his hand from the ground, reaching for you. Fingertips brush against your cheek, his hand calloused and human. “You’re alive,” he murmurs, emotion welling in his eyes.

You wipe away salt as it trails across the curve of his cheek. “I’m alive,” you repeat. For yourself, and for him. You take his hand in yours, staring at the space his claws should be as you brush your fingertips across his knuckles. He shifts, and you realize there are legs beneath you, not a tail. “Shouto, how…” you trail off, trying again. “What did you--”

He hushes you, sitting up and pulling you onto his lap. His nose bumps against yours, and your knees press against his hips. “It’s okay,” he tells you, soft and sweet. “We’re okay, love.” 

A pressure builds in your chest, swelling and threatening to burst. “I love you,” you tell him.

You draw him in to meet you, one hand fisted in his hair as the other wraps around his back, holding him to you. Shouto comes willingly, mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s harsh and sweet all at once, all of your combined fear and desperation spilling out at once. His arms wrap around you, fingers blunt and warm as they slide down your back to slip beneath your shirt, wanting to feel your skin beneath his. Shouto’s mouth chases yours when you lean back, and he cradles you so carefully, like he’s afraid you might break.

He’s naked, and you’re both covered in sand and salt and blood, but neither of you care as he presses his forehead to yours, breathing you in.

It hits you, what he must have done--what he gave up for you--and your heart squeezes. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, stroking your fingers across his cheeks and nuzzling against him.

But Shouto shakes his head. His hands are firm on your hips, unwilling to let you go. “I’m not.” And he draws you to him; you let yourself drown.

[capri-ramblings]

I don’t know if you’re still doing requests but if so, I reallly liked the not wanting a child one with Vil Leona and Malleus. Could you do it with Lilia, Rook, Azul, Floyd, and riddle? If you have time? If that’s too many people than just Azul, Rook and lilia. Only if you’re able to. Thank you. Have a nice day. 💖💖💖

Oh boi this was challenge but I love how it turned out! Sometimes when writing dialogues for the boys,I hear their Japanese voices and the struggle of needing to find the English equivalent to that hurts my braincells 😂😂 I'm looking at you, Floyd (눈‸눈) Lmao but really,I enjoyed writing this, so thank you for requesting this! Hope you all like it as much as I do ♥️ imsorryriddlegotangstyandimblackbutlertrash

Warning; Toxic relationships and mentions of physical abuse

Lilia Vanrouge

- He's planned this the moment he realized he wanted to be with you! Children are a hassle, true, but the thought of being the father to your child made Lilia want to run in circles.

- He was aware of how you often avoided the question though,and unlike Malleus, he was more patient as he slipped in small hints and tested the waters. Seeing which part of the topic took you off.

- Lilia, ancient and wise, believed that if he pushed you the wrong way, nothing good would come out of it. You'd be unhappy and an unhappy mother would lead to an unhappy child, and that's the last thing he'd want.

- Lilia sees the image of him standing beside you with your three children almost every single time he looks at you, and he knows happiness is key!

- So,he pampers you and he studies you. Every single reaction you give him, he digests it then analyses it and finally forms an approach.

- The two of you were in his manor's library when he went into the conversation, and as he expected you were trying to divert the whole topic.

- "I'm practically a child myself, I don't think I can handle such a responsibility...I'm sorry,Lilia" You hung your head low,averting his gaze when he came up beside you.

- Lilia was always hard to read. He wore the exact same expression most of the time and even when he's in a whole other mood, it doesn't show.

- When he intertwined your fingers with his though, a slight sense of relief washed over you and a small smile curved on your lips when Lilia pecked your cheek.

- "But little lantern, having small candles beaming through the manor would be pleasant in a way wouldn't it? I'd especially spend more time here with them" His voice was so soothing then, you could never have sensed the sourness in it at all. The way he simply and casually carried his aloof air around you, and had you feeling a sensational warmth from the way his hand held yours.

- You were clueless to the fact he was spinning you into a web. One you'd never be able to escape from.

- "And think of the things you could teach them about your world! Or how anyone can do anything despite having no magic"

- "Doesn't that bother you though? Our children not having magic?"

- The word 'Our' perked his ears. Lilia smiled, feigning an innocence you were too naive to see was rehearsed.

- "It doesn't. Any child from you is magic already."

- "You say that, but you could have children as strong as Malleus if I wasn't a simple human"

- Ah, that's when Lilia's plans ticked perfectly.

- "It's because you're human I want to have children with you,little lantern"

- "I'm here with you now because despite being considered someone defenceless against mages, you've proved yourself to be just as capable as the next student, even more so actually! You're a mystery,my love bird. Don't you see that?"

- You didn't. Of course not. You came from a place where magic was a fairytale, nothing but fiction. Twisted Wonderland was a place you had to struggle even more to be able to have your own footing and none of your trials were easy.

- He saw you as someone so special despite that? Your heart clenched at his words.

- And that's how he gets to you. He doesn't try it once and forces you into it when you refuse. No, Lilia simply keeps pushing.

- He'll make you feel as if you were no different to him or the other Twisted Wonderland residents who wielded powers you can't.

- His words would coo in your head whenever you doubted that a child of yours would do well in this version of the world.

- "They'll have you as a mother after all. Strong and reliable,they won't have any problems you couldn't fix!"

- "Bullied? You wouldn't allow such a thing in the first place"

- "Imagine them having eyes just like yours. Maybe then you'd be able to see how fiery your spirit is!"

- Lilia knows you all too well. Your lack of joy when talking about children came from the fact you were afraid you couldn't be good at it. Poor thing, being constantly dogged at by Crowley to run errands that drained you with exhaustion and confronting people who thought magic made them powerful. It's no wonder you feel numb from it.

- Oh,but no worries. His plan is perfect, and plays well for both of you.

- You don't want a child because you feared it being neglected? He'll just change that image of yours.

- On the day, you wake up to the sound of a baby crying and realized it was simply from a dream, you swear you've never felt so empty before. So, incomplete.

- Lilia doesn't bring up the subject of children for a while and it makes you anxious. Did he not want them anymore? Did your constant refusal made him give up on that? Give up on you?

- Your thoughts would run wild until you find yourself wrapping your arms around Lilia, teary eyed and apologizing as if the words had been burned into your throat and you desperately wanted it out before you lost your voice.

- And Lilia being the ever so gentle,ever so understanding lover, would hold you. Cooing to you as he plays with your hair softly.

- He'll ask you what was wrong, the hue in his gaze shifting when you stare deeply into them and you'll shed tears.

- "It's okay,my sweet" He coos, smiling, despite your sorrow weighing down the room. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

- Lilia takes the long route to having children but it's all worth the wait when he sees you smiling lovingly at the newborn child in your arms as you gesture to the five year old next to you to come see their younger sibling.

- "Mommy,look, same eyes as you!" Cheered the child, and you perk up at the sight. Lilia was right, children were perfect remedies to a tired soul.

Azul Ashengrotto

- The thought of children,at first, terrified him. It'd be like trying to leash two more Floyds, wouldn't it? But then Jade mentioned that having children was similar to having a contract and something just clicked in his head.

- If he impregnated you, it'd be harder to run from him, right? And when he was truly a father then you'd have to look up to him to care for both you and the child, right?

- Of course! How didn't he see this sooner? What a fool.

- Azul would be hellbent on wanting a child and he'd try his hands at it multiple times, and was equally disappointed each time since all you ever did was refuse.

- "Kids are too hard to handle. We'd both be busy, and I don't think even Jade would have time to juggle them around when we can't." You sounded so bitter, so disapproving. It made Azul feel all dejected, as if you were just disgusted at the thought of having his seed inside of you.

- From then on,Azul starts to mope. His cool composure slips from time to time and it gets too often that Jade has to handle most of the clients. He'll pull a face when you ask him what's wrong and harshly tells you to leave him alone

- He's hurt,but he doesn't want to say it and he frustratingly tries to wrap his head around a plan to make his desire come true, playing out multiple routes in his mind to find a weak spot he could probe you with.

- "Why don't you want a child?" Azul asked you this right after closing Mostro Lounge. There's a hint of sorrow in his blue gaze when you come to meet it, and you wonder if you were too blunt with your answer.

- You shifted on your feet, something you did out of habit, and Azul took note of how out of place you seemed.

- "Cause I don't think either of us are ready?" You answer and in a split second, Azul's sorrow sharpened into irritation and you could just feel how badly that answer set him off.

- "Was that supposed to be an answer or a question?"

- "Azul, I don't want to fight over this." You reach out a hand to place on his shoulder, but he slapped it away with surprising speed and the hit leaves you slightly stunned. He'd never hit you before.

- "It's someone else isn't it?" He asked, almost a murmur. The way his gaze seemed to latch onto you then gave off an unsettling feeling.

- "You're seeing someone else,aren't you? That's why you don't want to have kids with me."

- "Azul,what are you—"

- He moved swiftly, but when his hands came to grip you by your shoulders, his nails sunk into your skin and his lips snarled at you.

- "Who is it? Tell me or I can't promise I won't hurt you right now." His rage practically frothed and you found no words to compensate for your lack of comprehension of the situation.

- "I don't care if it's Jade or Floyd. I'll take out anyone who wants to take you away from me!"

- Your lips parted,to speak perhaps, but Azul silenced you with his spiteful stare.

- "You're mine, aren't you? Why won't you just admit it? Why won't you just accept me already?"

- You thought the pain was from the words he threw at you; Sharp it resembled a hit from a whip,but then your vision had blurred and you were coughing up dry air it made your lungs hurt to take in anymore. Then you felt something run down the side of your lips, and only then did you realized Azul had thrown you right across the room and the wall collided against your body.

- There was a scream, so filled with frustration it wrecked your entire being you had to curl up in a ball before a strangled whimper came from your lips.

- "You're taking everything from me" Azul said, his still gaze watching your crumpled form. He sounded distant as if he wasn't really there, yet when he came over to cup your face with his hands, he had felt so real it hurt to look.

- You were so broken in his grasp then, he was sure you didn't even know where such anger came from, then again Azul was always aware of how reluctant you were in your relationship. You were with him only because he stirred you up in a contract. You never really did loved him as much as he loves you.

- The rising pleasure of being able to make you go through at least a portion of the pain he had to go through was surprisingly pleasant to have.

- He laughed before pulling your face close to his,nose almost touching. "Look how beautiful you are when you don't run your mouth or fight back", the words came in a coo yet you shivered from it.

- "I could make us the happiest couple in the world,you know. Our children would be the best among the best." Azul placed a lingering kiss on your lips, the scent of your blood edging him on. When you weakly tried to pull away, he gripped harder and bit your cheek until it bled and you were letting out small whimpers.

- "Don't cry,my sweet small seashell. If it hurts, I'm here for you. I'll make everything okay again. So, stop crying,I don't want our night of conceiving to be filled with tears."

Rook Hunt

- "Little Lamb, aren't you well enough to give me children?"

- You were merrily drinking tea when this question came out of the blue.

- Rook stood behind the chaise you were sitting on, his arms gracefully enveloping you in an embrace as his breath grazed your skin. He smelled of the forest right after rain, and his words left you rather stunned.

- "In the letter I received from Vil, he and his small hare were planning on having children of their own", he bent down slightly, enough to place a kiss on your cheek before he went around the chaise and faced you. The smile he wore rivalled the morning sun itself.

- You tried to collect your thoughts, tried to piece up the right words to tell him that you simply did not want children. In the end though,you decided it was better to just come out and say it.

- "Rook—"

- "Yes,my love?" His eyes seemed to beam, and Rook's eyes always beamed but this time, it was as if he had been playing the scene of your children running around the halls of his manor the entire day. Mesmerized was the word you'd use to describe it. Your chest tightened at the thought of breaking that dream of his. But you had to tell him...This was something you truly didn't want.

- "I don't want children,Rook." Blunt and precise, the words came from you without hesitation, and in that piercing second that held the room in silence, Rook felt his heart sank into the metallic jaws of disappointment. A mighty bear caught in the savage claws of man's horrid trap.

- He blinked. Once, then twice. By the third blink, you were already regretting your refusal and desperately searched for a way to amend for it.

- Unfortunately for you,Rook had already taken great damage, and as a result, he completely shrugged off your comment.

- "It would be splendid, wouldn't it? I would teach our sons to hunt and our little princess would have an entire garden built for her!"

- "Rook, didn't you hear—"

- "Yes! I can see it already! Our family would be such a joy to have!"

- You stood up then, exasperated by how delusional he sounded. You knew he didn't like the answer you gave him but to just pretend as if he hadn't listen! Just when you were about to turn on your heels to speak your mind,Rook stood as well, swiftly without a sound, and with the strength of a seasoned hunter he gripped you firmly by the waist and hoisted you up into the air.

- Your scream lodged in your throat and blood rushed to your head. Instinctively you held onto his hands, but when your eyes finally locked onto his, the deep-set emerald of his gaze turned luscious and vicious all at the same time and your words lost their volume.

- His lips curled, deliberately coy. When he lowered you and pressed your lips against his, your body flinched.

- "You'll give me good children,won't you?", he murmured before another kiss stole your breath again.

- "My precious dove, you'll make a fine mother."

Floyd Leech

- "Nee,nee, little shrimp,let's have kids,okay?" Floyd threw his arms around you as casually as always but the words he had said with the same amount of casualness was what staggered you on your feet.

- His sharp teeth bared,lips pulled into a grin, Floyd eyed you with great interest.

- You returned it with a terrified look.

- "No." You blurted out before even thinking, and Floyd frowned faster than he had grinned.

- "Why?" Flat and practically monotonous, his question sent a chill down your spine and you bit your lip out of habit.

- Floyd had always been unpredictable, mostly because he acted on how he felt rather than thinking it through first, and that's how you saw this whole situation. Maybe someone had said something, or maybe he met up with Cheka and somehow thought it would be nice to have kids, but he didn't really meant it. Right?

- "Nee,why don't you want kids?" He repeated his question, inching closer to you as you tried to avoid any physical trigger that would set him off. The mer-male had a tendency to bully you whenever you showed him any hint of feeling inferior to him, and that often ended with Jade having to tend to the 'love marks' he left behind on your body.

- "Why do you want kids anyway?" You shot back, minding how your tone sounded while still seeming firm. "They take up a lot of time you know? I'd have to pay more attention to them than to you"

- At the statement, Floyd arched his brows. The distant look in his eyes told you he was having a thought before his expression turned lax.

- "That's okay, I'll be there anyways so it's no big deal"

- "What?"

- "Hm? I'm telling you it's okay,little shrimp. Even Jade said he'd help around if it gets too much"

- He snaked his arms around your waist,pulling you real close to his chest until he could squeeze you tight.

- "It'll be fun,won't it?"

- Your body reacted before you could even comprehend anything, and it was only after you heard the dull thud of Floyd's back hitting the wall did you realized you had pushed him away.

- "You pushed me" He said this so softly, you thought you only heard it in your head but then he lifted his gaze and the mismatched orbs held such malice, your stomach lurched.

- "Floyd,I'm sorry...I didn't mean it, I just—"

- "Shut up. You're really pissing me off. " He elicited the words,each enunciation cut into sharp edges of glass scraping against your skin you wanted to close your eyes and run away from the whole thing.

- But with Floyd,if you ran, it meant you'd already lost.

- "What's with you? I ask all nicely and hug you and stuff, and you're pushing me? Jade said you didn't like kids but I told him that if it was with me you'd definitely say yes, cause after all, you're my little shrimp right?"

- You opened your mouth to speak, to say anything to avoid him having a tantrum, but Floyd let out a low growl and cut you off before you could.

- "Ah,I'm annoyed now. You should've just said yes but now...Now,I want you to come here"

- He opened his arms, the look in his eyes a spiral of aggression that shredded through your nerves.

- "I said come here,___, or you're gonna make me even more angry"

- You hated the way your body reacted to him. How it felt like you were a ghost in your own body as you watched yourself obey him.

- The coldness of his embrace had tears brimming your eyes and you pressed your face into his chest as if it was an instinct. An instinct to protect yourself.

- Floyd eased into your desperation, arms closing around you as he held you in his grasp. He was smiling but it was bland and it was meant to scare you.

- "Aha, you're crying! Aw,did you think I was gonna hurt you,little shrimp?"

- You shook your head,hands gripping onto his shirt as Floyd patted your head playfully.

- "Ah,it's cause you went and made me mad, right? Hahaha! You're a funny one,little shrimp. Always getting yourself into things you can't handle"

- Floyd then cupped your face with both hands, a feverishly possessive look in his eyes.

- "But,If you're really sorry you'll have to show me,okay?"

Riddle Roseheart

- Funnily enough,the suggestion of having children was brought up by Cater, and it had taken both you and Riddle off guard.

- Though, unlike you, Riddle saw it as an enlightenment. He adores you and acknowledges you to a great degree and so when the thought of being a father to your child crossed his mind, everything changed for him.

- "Children would be nice" He said,voice a soft lull as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. The two of you had been laying on his bed all day, Riddle claiming his fellow dormmates had made his day stressful as always.

- You were running your fingers through his hair when his question struck a cord in you,yet you opted to keep your thoughts to yourself.

- Riddle was a rather conflicting partner to have. Unlike the other yanderes, he wasn't at all aggressive or wholly dominant when he began his recession of obsessive love for you, at least not all the time. When Riddle admitted his feelings for you, he had laid himself bare.

- Gentle but clingy, he latched himself onto you as if you were stitched together, and due to the lack of childhood his mother deprived him of, Riddle found great comfort in the way you handled him with such an understanding and loving attitude. Sure,you had your days when you let loose your tongue of sarcasm but that was also an aspect about you he adored.

- "Don't you think so,____?"

- Riddle called you by your first name now rather than your title as supervisor, he didn't have a nickname, said it was all just too stuffy for him. Plus, the way your name rolled so lusciously on his tongue, satisfied him.

- "I guess" was your answer, and somehow despite how casual you sounded Riddle couldn't help but to hear a slight hint of disapproval in it.

- Still, he smiled when he looked up to you and let out a gentle laugh.

- "Our children would surely be an outstanding batch, won't they? I'd teach them how to use their magic and if one of them can't, they'll have you" He sounded so genuine, so soft. It hurt you to inwardly disagree with him.

- You weren't really fond of kids but you were also not the type to admit it out loud, afraid that people would look at you badly if you did.

- "Hmm, you don't seem like you're excited..." ,His voice a gentle coo,Riddle pressed his body against yours,his lips lightly caressing your skin. You arched your back and a small laugh escaped him.

- "Doesn't the thought of having children makes you want to try it?"

- If your silence didn't set him off, the way fear swirled in the hues of your eyes did, and like a switch, Riddle clasped your throat with his hand, a snarl scrunching up his expression.

- "Answer me when I talk to you,____."

- You let out a strangled gasp,your hand coming up to grip his wrist only to feel it burn instead

- Riddle's gaze shifted,clear blue eyes resembling a flickering flame.

- "Don't touch me. If you even move from this position, I'll rip that head off of you faster than the March Hare himself."

- You flinched at his words,eyes shutting close as your chest throbbed in panic. This was what you were avoiding, yet ultimately failed to notice. His moods shifted so profoundly after all, it was like treading on Alice Liddle's stubbornness.

- "I... I'm sorry!" You managed,half a sob and half a plea. Despite his hands looking so fragile, Riddle's grip was like an iron clamp, and somehow his skin seemed to burn into yours.

- "If you're sorry, then why am I still angry,___?" Riddle laughed, "Why do I still want to punish you?"

- You broke into tears easily after that, hopelessness coursing through your veins and warping your features.

- This broke his heart as well, Riddle now knew the answer he was waiting for. You didn't want children with him.

- Near tears himself,Riddle released his grip on you, letting you fall onto his mattress and curl into a ball as he sat there, kneeling before you. He watched as you let out an agonizing sob and called his name,for what reason he wasn't sure. He didn't know if you really loved him or not. You probably stayed because you feared him as well like most people did. But he loved you,he really did. If the world he lived in was a twisted Wonderland, you were his salvation, his home.

- "I'm sorry,___",he said after tears had stained his own cheeks and his heart weighed him down and his chest felt like exploding. He inched closer to you before gathering your trembling form into his arms and burying your face into his chest.

- "I'm sorry I hurt you. I won't do it again,I promise" He held you so tight, you couldn't even grasp enough air into your lungs,but you held onto him nonetheless.

- "I don't like hearing you cry" Riddle murmured in-between sobs, "I love you,___. I just wanted to show you that I do"

- He repeated those words like a mantra, and you fell deeper into your sorrows, as if you shared a single heart with him and the pain the two of you felt somehow had mixed together until you were unable to tell them apart.

- Love with Riddle was maddening,it really was. It was like diving into a rabbit hole. Endless.

- "I love you too, Riddle. I'm sorry for making you mad"

- "I don't care about that anymore" Riddle held your face in his hands,cheeks flushed when you leaned close to kiss his lips first. "I don't care about children or anything. I just want to be with you"

- You smiled. "Maybe having a few wouldn't hurt,if it's yours,I'll be okay,won't I?"

- He pressed his forehead against yours, chuckling, "Yes,my Lady"

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] All Demon Brothers + Undateables as Babysitters (Part 2)

Scenario: For the sake of the exchange program (probably), the entire cast is now in charge of taking care of kids ranging from infants to pre-K children at a daycare with you. Headcanons on what type of babysitter they would be + whatever cute shenanigans that may occur

Note: Baby fever!! Inspiration is the entirety of Gakuen Babysitter/School Babysitter, as previously mentioned. 

why do i always make my headcanons so long

[Part 1] has the 7 Demon Brothers

Part 2 will have all Five Undateables

-

Solomon

“Kids are just so funny, don’t you think?” 

Similar to Satan where he acts very casual and is actually very casual, but… the kids are scared of him LMAO

They can’t vibe him out so every time he tries to help them, they’re a little nervous and would prefer to just latch onto you, so if anything he helps the kids bond with YOU 

He doesn’t seem to bothered by the cold response, and if anything, seems amused by it and encourages the fear for a little since it lets the kids listen to him immediately, but you’re quick to suggest that he please drop the sus front and help you

Solomon uses magic to appeal to the kids-- real magic but also magic tricks mixed in there as well and the kids are fascinated 

“Is that magic?”

“Yup!” Solomon says, summoning dozens of birds from a random hat he found. (The clean-up was horrendous.) 

It’s so easy to win them over after that with his sleight of hand-- pulling out a coin from your ear or a flower from your nose-- and overall using his skills to dazzle the kids into forgetting they were ever afraid of him 

Likes to tease the kids though, which sometimes results in them crying if he accidentally takes it too far like if he says “I’ve got your nose!” and then proceeds to ‘poof’ it out of existence by pretending to put it into a hat and disappearing it-- like Solomon, c’mon they’re three years old, they’re not going to be able to tell whether or not you’re joking so put that nose back where it belong or so help me-- 

On the other hand, Solomon is adept at cheering kids up when they’re upset by doing silly antics like continuously pulling out coins from the kid’s ears and being (fake) surprised by how much is coming out so the kids giggle

Solomon is quite fond of kids so he actually doesn’t really mind this episode of babysitting 

He’s basically just acting like an older brother to all these kids

Quite efficient with diapers and feeding babies

Diavolo

It was definitely his idea to do this, and like everything that’s new to him, he’s excited to see how he can handle it and whether the kids will like him

Spoiler alert, they do

Diavolo tells so many dad-jokes, and it makes the kids giggle every time; they love his energy and how he lets them do whatever they want (to an extent) as long as they stay safe

The kids probably disappointed them once by doing something they weren’t supposed to or by not listening to you, and his sad ‘i’m not mad, just disappointed’ look is enough to make them not want to do anything bad ever again 

You probably think Diavolo lets the kid run wild, but he’s actually very attentive to each kids-- sensing whether they’re upset or not and keeping an eye on the kids whenever they’re outside playing 

The kids probably know it too, inside, that Diavolo will keep them safe, so they like hanging out with Diavolo and trust him a lot, which is honestly the highest praise to Diavolo who beams every time the kids are comfortable enough to nap around him 

Similar to Beel, uses his strength to appeal to the kids, lifting them up and carrying them around-- but in the most chaotic way possible; you’re not worried he’d drop them, but seeing him carrying a kid by the leg behind his back or having two kids on each of his shoulders makes your heart leap to your throat every time (for more than one reason)

At this point, you’re not sure if Diavolo is the dad or the funny uncle 

When Diavolo talks to the kids, he is so gentle with them-- if any of the kids ever do something bad, the best person to talk to them is Diavolo because he sounds so understanding and tbh getting chided by him feels like you’re being scolded by your dad

When you ask him why he’s so good at handling kids, he just gives you a smile; he’s fascinated by kids, mainly because they grow up so fast and learn so much from the world around them, and he wants to encourage that sort of positive outlook for them

Simeon

He’s the type of babysitter that everyone tries to be good for because making him sad is the Worst Thing you could possibly do

Simeon knows that all the kids love him to the point that they’d be good for him, but he doesn’t like them know that and he definitely uses that to his advantage when trying to convince them to take their nap or be nice to each other 

Surprisingly strict when it comes to keeping schedule and cleaning up; makes sure everyone has a role and that they’re all being fair to each other-- so he has that good balance of being super nice that he’s well-liked but strict enough so that they listen to him 

Probably helps the kids put on a play reenacting either their favorite book or even something that Simeon wrote out for them

You’re a little worried having him direct, but Simeon assures you that he knows that they’re kids and he won’t hold them to the same standards as he did for the RAD School Festival

He’s actually gentle and very nurturing-- some kids probably accidentally call him mom (but he’s really nice about it and laughs, brushing it off so the kid doesn’t get too embarrassed)

if you encourage it the entire daycare might end up calling him mom at least once

Simeon really encourages their expression and praises come easy to him so the kids are always eager to learn more and do better while also having fun; also what he doesn’t know is that the kids are super in love with his smile

He’s quite used to mentoring kids and likes to see kids explore their environment and learn from experience rather than have him tell them what to do-- he’s the type of babysitter to ask them what they learned and ask whether or not that was a good/bad idea so that they can formulate their own world view and grow

Definitely gives the kids ‘tasks’ to complete or their first errand to run and watches over them as they do it just to make sure they don’t get hurt while doing them; then rewards them whenever they succeeded

Barbatos

Something about butlers being very similar in every story, but Barbatos is definitely a diligent and extremely efficient babysitter-- and the kids are fascinated with him

They follow him around, eyes wide open, as if doing so will help them see and understand how Barbatos can clean up the room in five seconds tops and change a diaper with a sweep of his hands

He definitely notices this, and if he’s using more dramatic motions just to put on a show for them, no one comments on it 

Barbatos is like those enigmas where you don’t really know how strict he is, but you’d rather not find out 

It’s in the way he speaks and in his tone of voice that the kids pick up the fact that they should probably behave when Barbatos is babysitting them-- and it’s further amplified when Barbatos tells a kid to not do something without even turning around to look and now the kids are convinced Barbatos has eyes at the back of his head 

He definitely bakes goods and cuts up fruits for the kids to eat during recess or break time, so if the kids weren’t won over before, they definitely are now

To be honest, when you have a babysitting shift with Barbatos, you’re hard pressed to get him to let you work since he gets everything done so quickly and without prompting

Luke

Is literally the biggest kid in the playground 

Sweet and tries to help you wherever he can when it comes to the kids, but is a little lost when it comes to comforting an upset kid-- and he’s very distraught that he doesn’t know how so he ends up baking and giving cookies to kids who did well or to cheer them up, so honestly that’s perfectly good on its own

Carried a baby once and now he doesn’t ever want to let go because… you mean to say all humans were this small once? You mean you were this small once? He’s a little in awe because he’s never been exposed to much outside of the celestial realm, so this very well may be the first time he’s seen human children

Some of the kids definitely do have a fun time teasing him though, pulling on his apron or shirt and then running away when Luke gets mad at them, but the kids do love Luke though-- he really is like their older brother and they follow him around like ducklings as long as Luke doesn’t notice 

He learns really quickly and gets really good at taking care of the babies and interacting with the kids, and you’re really proud of how he’s grown during this time 

Luke is very sad when they have to leave and stop babysitting because he got really attached to the kids and actually really liked being needed and taking care of them; if the kids start crying at him leaving, he WILL cry with them

[zet-sway]

Spiritual Shrios Summer - Release

This is a prompt fill for @rosenkow's Spiritual Shrios Summer! Prompts | release | oasis | moan | delirium | pray | sweat | whisper | afterlife | contaminated | skin | worship | incense | godless | petals | taste | nectar | caress | mirage | ripe | sundown | hallucinate | salt | intoxicated | soul | embrace | hunger | wet | adrenaline | breathe |

PROMPT WORD: RELEASE - | - WORDS: 2686

Rated: "E" for Extremely Spicy - not for children AO3 Link: "Singing Southward" Pairing: Thane / FemShep Summary: "But her blood is singing southward, and that's a good thing, right? A reassuring, human reminder that maybe she's still Shepard - a woman - not just a Cerberus machine."

Full disclosure, this prompt fought me and kicked my ass the whole way. I can't look at it anymore. I hope it's more enjoyable for people who haven't been looking at it for like two weeks lmao. Many thanks to Rosenkow for that excellent playlist that really inspired my Shrios muse.

The heavy thrum of battle is where she loses herself. Shepard would take sweat and the pounding pulse of combat any day over the silence between stars.

Swirling winds whip sand across her face and body. It crunches in the joints between her armor and she hates the sound but it's easy to ignore as she slams another heat sink into her shotgun and charges into the last remaining crawler. It's thrown by the impact, the momentum of her body splits the carapace against her armored fist. The smell of viscera in the air, the humming of biotic barriers. Her body sings. She feels untouchable. The keystone slams the ground again.

The ground beneath her feet rumbles and she hears an unholy sound. A thresher maw. Her battle-lust is broken instantly and she snaps to attention, every sense laser focused.

Her shotgun and fists will be little help to them now. She exchanges glances with Grunt and Thane, waving them toward cover while she hunkers down on point, grenade launcher at the ready. It's not the biggest thresher maw she's ever seen but their size isn't the only thing that makes them dangerous. Positioning is critical when fighting something that can burrow and spit. Her combat HUD tracks its movements through the ground and she directs their movements, their gunfire to its next point of exposure.

But there's a problem. Her visor's sensitive electronics were never meant to be used in a sandstorm.

The maw dives again and this time the data is wrong, pinging across the arena, indicating wildly different trajectories that conflict with the laws of physics. Not great, but there's nothing she can do about it now. Adapt, improvise.

She tears the headset from her face and makes her best approximation of where it's going to appear next, signaling the team. They open fire, it dives again. Then the rumbling stops. Her best is not enough. There's a split second of silence before the beast bursts forth not twelve feet away from her position. Dust and debris erupt in a disorienting cloud and she can tell by the shadow cast over her that she's in deep shit, struggling to find her footing on the fractured, quaking ground.

A scorching heat envelops her and her vision goes dark. There's a shout in her comm, a weight pressed upon her, and the grenade launcher is wrenched from her hands.

Then a burst, an explosion, a blinding flash of light. Acid sizzles against her barrier and it pops, the sound rattling her ears in the darkness.

The orange sun of Tuchanka blinks back into existence as the dust begins to settle.

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

Thane slumps into the stinking puddle of meat and organs, still clutching Shepard's grenade launcher. His scales are stinging and the pain is growing more intense by the second. Beside him, Shepard is calling in an evac while she rips at the panels of her hardsuit. Her under armor is a patchwork of holes beneath, and her skin is a frightening shade of red where the fabric is being eaten away. Thresher maw bile.

He's never actually seen a thresher maw before, much less fought one - he's more shaken than he would like to admit. Her voice is his anchor. By the time she's done shouting for Grunt to maintain a defensive position, she's torn the suit at the waist and stripped the top half from her body. She uses it to wipe the viscera from his head, chest, and hands before tending to herself.

Her ease of determination has him transfixed. He's trembling from their encounter, but Shepard- he's never seen her more focused. Brows knitted in concentration, voice firm, but calm. Her chest rises and falls with each measured breath. Wearing only her belt, legplates, and a black compression bra, she's slathering herself in medigei, a whirlwind of sand and dirt sticking to exposed burns across the hard expanse of her body.

Her skin is so vulnerable compare to his scales that she should be shrieking in pain. Instead, she seems completely unfazed. Adrenaline, perhaps. Or maybe she's every bit as otherworldly as he's coming to understand she is.

Their evac shuttle arrives and they pile on. Grunt is the first one to break the silence.

"Quick thinking back there, Krios."

Grunt looks at him with the same piercing gaze all krogan seem to have. Thane has always found them hard to read.

"Never thought I'd see a drell dive into the mouth of a thresher maw. You're tougher than you look."

He smiles, then. And Shepard smiles with him.

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

Doctor's orders: 24 hours rest.

Shepard's armor clatters to the cabin floor and she strides into the bathroom, trying not to itch the scabs tightening over her skin. The burns are superficial - irritating, but not serious. In the mirror, they look worse than they feel. The sting is enough to drown out the other weird pains that live inside her reconstructed body. Her ears hurt. Her tear ducts feel swollen and pressurized. Her fingers are sore. There's a constant ache in her sternum and a soft wooshing in her ear. It's from her synthetic heart, and the abundance of blood it requires. But it means she'll heal faster, too.

The water hisses out of the showerhead and she sets to work cleaning the caked on grit and viscera from her skin. When she's focused on herself like this, it's hard not to think about all of the ways her body has changed.

On the SR1, she'd been in shape, perhaps even proud of her body. She'd thought of herself as a well oiled machine. She watched her nutrition carefully, spent just as much time honing nerves as she did strength and endurance. Her body, a product of her own work and service.

What she sees now is not what she remembers.

Notably, she's about 70 pounds heavier, almost exclusively due to her implants and the additional muscle she's put on to carry them. Adapting to the added weight of cybernetics and artificial bones had been an uphill battle since she rolled off that Cerberus operating table. Even her breasts are one cup size larger, and that one change carries perhaps the most bitterness. Her body is no longer her creation.

She sees herself as though through a stranger's eyes - a construct. The Commander they wanted. Not the woman she remembers.

Her new body is all about performance, both in the public eye and on the battlefield. Miranda had already told her she should be grateful for her various "upgrades." Her titanium fingers that never tremble, her artificial eyes that can see colors and details normal human's can't. Heightened olfaction, improved hearing, even joints with a higher range of motion.

A superhuman.

No, she corrects herself, with no small amount of vitriol.

A supersoldier.

The trouble is, being a soldier is what she wants. Control over her body is as much a necessity as a beating heart, and she demands it of herself every way she knows how. The problem isn't the upgrades. It's the autonomy ripped from her hands as soon as she was too dead to spit in their faces.

But this is the hand she's dealt, so she works with it, even if learning how to use her own body is still a learning curve. Testing her limits, evaluating response times, and sometimes... trying out shitty supplementary tech that can't stand up to a little bad weather.

Outside the bathroom door, the remnants of her visor are crumbled together next to her terminal. Thane had crushed it underfoot when he dove between her and the thresher maw. That split second confusion in the field could have cost her life if he hadn't intervened. She hadn't expected a lone wolf assassin to mesh so well with the team.

She towels off and stuffs her armor back in its locker. The automatic cleaning cycle hums to life, and her thoughts whirl with it.

Thane's opened up a bit more since the night they spoke about Alchera. He has a surprising way of coloring the air with his words. And, perhaps most alarmingly, the more time she spends with him, the time she wants to spend with him. She tries to chalk it up to regular team synchronicity, but there are moments she catches herself wondering him on more than just a professional level. Tiny curiosities slither into her brain. Does he kiss like humans do? The very notion warms her blood.

How long has it been since she'd kissed someone? It feels like a lifetime.

And then - just one impulsive little thought, summoning the things she's not even dared herself to think. Does he fuck like humans do?

Almost timidly, she allows her imagination to wander.

Greeting the morning together in the shuttle bay, the harsh fluorescent lights casting dramatic shadows over his body as he bends through another impossible stretch. All that tension coiled within him, the hard planes of his torso, those absolutely delicious ass-kicking thighs...

For a moment, she feels as though he's close enough to share his heat. There's an old, familiar warmth in her blood - exquisite, tiny shivers flickering just beneath her skin - arousal.

Her eyes drift closed. She owes her XO a mission debrief, and she owes her pilot new destination coordinates. But her blood is singing southward, throbbing between her legs, and that's a good thing, right? A reassuring, human reminder that maybe she's still Shepard - a woman - not just a Cerberus machine.

Maybe those obligations can wait a little bit longer.

Scooting up her unmade bed to rest against the headboard, she tentatively rests a hand against her belly and traces a line from her navel to the juncture of her legs, almost as if she's afraid of what she'll find. Her flesh is reassuringly warm, and she passes over her center, teasing and smoothing back over blood-warmed skin, testing its sensitivity. At least here, her body feels like she remembers.

Thane's unfamiliarity excites her. She's never spared much thought for bunking with another species before, but he's more than handsome. Shepard wonders if drell are as introverted as Thane. Likely not, but his guardedness only intensifies her intrigue. The idea of touching him seems forbidden, like a closely guarded secret. She wants to run her tongue over the darkened skin below his lower lip, wants to trace the ridges down the back of his neck and feel the warmth of the flushed skin at his throat.

Her mind fumbles with the thought of him, unclothed and willing. He could be any number of iridescent shades of green under that tight leather getup - by the tantalizing gradient of color across the firm swatch of his exposed chest, he must be. Those dark stripes down his shoulders are trails she's hungry to travel, winding paths across the exotic unknowns of his body. Her fingers itch to follow them wherever they lead - with any luck, all the way down.

And down to what, exactly? For a moment, Shepard considers pulling up the extranet to satiate her curiosity and then decides against it. If he's not biologically equipped the way she hopes, better to find out later, when she's not vividly imagining the shape and color of his erection. Maybe green? But then, he hopefully isn't packing scales down there. No, more likely a familiar blush of color, like the frills of at his neck, or the inside of his mouth.

Her fingers brush carefully over her clit at the thought of his mouth, those gorgeous clit-sucking lips. An excited chill zips down her spine, settling - picturing him in this exact spot, head bowed reverently between her legs to worship her with his tongue. It's been so fucking long since someone ate her out.

The memory is old and faded - breaking fraternization rules with a youthful dark-haired recruit in the barracks. They hadn't even finished basic yet. Shepard had come harder than ever before in her life, only to later discover that recruit had told nearly everyone that they'd hated every second of it. She wouldn't have been upset if Cerberus took that memory from her.

But there's something about Thane. He's nothing if not a gentleman, she likes to think he'd be wickedly good at this. Warm, firm lips, an agile tongue... those fused fingers edging her on.

She uses her own to test that hypothesis, biting her lip at the familiar slick of arousal concentrated in her core.

There was a time when she'd rather be incinerated than suffer gentle lovemaking. She wanted it hard and fast, pleasure so blindingly hot she'd sneak out to the airlock for a cigarette in the afterglow. But her new body is a labyrinth of unknowns. Sex in this new skin, not knowing her limits, how much she can take. She wants to take her time.

Middle finger first, then following with another, she tests her reconstruction. Maybe she's just imagining it, but she feels a bit stiffer than she remembers.

But in the blurry comfort of her fantasy, Thane is a gentle lover. He's slow and patient, giving her ample time to acclimate both her body and her racing thoughts. Her fingers slip inside as far as they'll reach, leaving her palm to flex against her clit. She sighs, luxuriating in sensation.

It feels so good to be touched.

It's been years, in fact, and the roaring flame of her lust is surprising even to herself. To have him here, moving inside her, filling her with every stroke...

When her hand curls against her inner walls, her eyes roll back and an unholy sound leave her throat. Holy shit. Either this is the pleasure time forgot, or Cerberus spared no expense reconstructing her nerve endings. It wipes every other thought from her mind.

She's lost in the fantasy now. Hopelessly spellbound beneath the roll of her own hand - Thane's hips - languidly pushing the heights of her pleasure in body and mind until she's deliberately edging her orgasm because it seems a damn shame to end it so fast. Her head is swimming, discomfort collecting dust in the rational corners of her brain until her nerves are burning with adrenaline and wanting. Scattered thoughts come in incoherent bursts. All that matters now is the caldera of pleasure between her legs. Her mind. His body.

She can almost feel his voice. The words are lost but the sensations are loud and clear, encircling her, flowing through her, filling her. She wants to feel his desire, wants him to come undone inside her, calling her name, riding the high of his climax and all but demanding she come with him. In her mind, they gasp together, his arms tightening around her, his face buried in her neck, her walls clenching around him.

The electricity of release pulses through her nerves - organic, synthesized, and everything in between. For one sweet second, she's weightless. Then the spots are clearing from her vision and she's floating down from whatever far flung corner of the galaxy her soul's been launched to.

In the silence that follows, the gentle hum of the ship is the only sound.

"Fuck," she breathes out into the empty room. He's gone. The reverie slowly evaporates, vanishing into the metal bulkheads of the hull.

The familiar guilt of indulgence tugs at the edges of her fading euphoria. She hadn't banked on masturbating to her crew, but here she is.

It's just a daydream, no harm done.

But as she gets dressed, she asks herself why it's been so long since anyone's crept into her mind like Thane.

Shepard shakes her head, straightening her back. A little movement to clear the errant thoughts trashing her rationality. Her scabs itch. Her mouth is dry. There are more important things to be doing. Things that will quiet the tiny voice in her head that whispers 'no one wants your weird cybernetic body.'

At least she can still show herself a good time. Small victories are perhaps even sweeter during wartime. Maybe she feels just a little more human than she did an hour before.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Turned - Dewdrop Ghoul (Ghost)

I had a thought...what if when Ghoul bites a human, they turn into a Ghoul like a vampire? Lmao, I am sleep deprived😅

Also, I suck at giving titles to my work ughhhh sorry

~~~~~~~~~~

You were born into the ministry, being the child of a Clergy member, so you grew up around the Ghouls.

Still being a child, you loved playing with the Ghouls. You always played a little rough for most human children to handle, so it was like a match made in Hell when you met the Ghouls.

At first, your parents were more than a little hesitant to let you play with the Ghoul children. But when they saw how happy you were with them, they started to chill out about it.

The little Ghouls adored you, not really having much interaction with creatures outside their own kind. They always thought of humans as fragile and soft, but they were pleasantly surprised when they met you.

Compared to how the Ghouls played with each other, you were a bit mild, but they didn’t mind. Although, they were still told to keep their sharp claws retracted and their teeth off of you while you played. Though, sometimes they’d headbutt you, thankfully their horns hadn’t grown in just yet.

You loved all the Ghouls, but surprisingly, Dewdrop was your favorite to play with. You liked how he wasn’t really afraid to accidentally hurt you. There have many moments when some Clergy members were biting their nails nervously watching how rough you both played, afraid that the fire Ghoul would be too rough and seriously hurt you. 

You remembered one of Dew’s fellow Ghouls saying, “Oh man, there’s two of them.” Or something like that.

But he had never hurt you. Until today.

You and the Ghouls were play fighting as you guys usually did on the private playground of the abbey. All the Ghouls except Dewdrop had enough, starting to get a bit tired. But Dew seemed to have infinite stamina, which you appreciated since you were the same way.

Eventually, the Ghouls went inside the building, leaving you two outside being supervised by a couple Sisters of Sin. They weren’t doing a very good job though, as you and Dewdrop decided to sneak away from the Sisters.

You both giggled triumphantly as you rounded the corner of one of the halls of the ministry, both overjoyed that you were successful in avoiding the unwanted adult supervision.

You and Dewdrop tried to stifle your giggles as you heard the stomping footsteps of the Sisters trying to look to you both. “Those two are little menaces.” You heard, almost causing you to chortle but was stopped when Dew quickly placed his hand over your mouth.

As soon as you saw that the coast was clear, you decided to playfully bite Dew’s hand, causing him to mewl in pain. “Ow!” He whined.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be such a baby!” You teased, not knowing that you did actually bite too hard.

Dewdrop got angry really quick and started growling at you, showing his sharp teeth. “I’m gonna kill you!” He shouted, causing you to flinch.

Being a child, you didn’t really have a sense for danger and decided to goad him on. “Oh, really? Well, you’ll have to catch me first!” You giggled, starting to race down the empty halls.

Dewdrop immediately started chasing after you, his anger growing more fierce with every smug smirk you threw his way. Still, you were unaware he was actually mad. You just thought it was another game you two were playing.

As the seconds passed and sneaking some looks over your shoulder, you started to realize it wasn’t just a game. Dewdrop looked pissed. Seeing how his claws were out and his fangs peeking out through his little mask, you started to feel the panic set in.

You quickened your pace, not wanting to find out if your friend really wanted to kill you. He wouldn’t...right?

And in horror movie fashion, you managed to trip over your own feet and almost face-planted into the pristine marble flooring of the hallway. 

You didn’t even have time to turn around before you felt Dew’s smaller body crash on top of you, wrestling you into a position where you couldn’t move or fight back.

You heard a clinking sound and you looked to the side to see Dewdrop’s mask was discarded on the floor, and you feared the worst.

You heard Dew growl before you felt a sharp, stinging pain in your shoulder. Again, being a child, you thought you were dying and let out a loud scream that echoed through the halls. So loud in fact, you let almost everyone in the building know exactly where you were.

After what felt like forever to you, the fresh stinging pain went away and you felt your friend get off of you. You slowly sat up, still in pain.

You looked up to see Dewdrop towering over you, his mask neatly placed back over his face. You noticed the visible part of his face, his chin, was coated in a red liquid. You furrowed your brows, innocently asking yourself when did he have time to eat red jello?

Looking to where your aching pain was, you finally realized you were bleeding and that the red liquid that was dripping off of Dew’s chin was blood.

“You bit me?!” You shouted.

Dewdrop’s mouth curled into a wicked grin, showing off his now blood coated fangs. “Now you know how it feels.” He said spitefully, wiping some blood off with the back of his hand.

Both you and Dew jumped when you heard loud gasps, him turned around and you slightly leaning to the side to see past. 

It was the Sisters that were assigned to watch you, your mother, and Sister Imperator. Uh oh...

You were immediately taken to the infirmary by Sister with your worried mother by your side. Your wound really didn’t hurt that much when you arrived there, but you liked the attention that you received from the doctor and nurses.

In the end, you had to have a few stitches for the particularly deep teeth marks but other than that you were going to be fine. That’s what they assumed anyway.

You and your mother were about to exit the building until you heard your name being called out. You turned to see Dewdrop walking towards you, Sister Imperator keeping a firm hand on the back of the fire Ghoul’s neck. He was obviously not comfortable. 

Your mother quickly pushed you behind her, ready to protect you from the Ghoul.

“Someone wants to apologize.” Sister said, glaring down at the small Ghoul. “Dew.”

Dewdrop’s ears were pushed back and his tail was thrashing back and forth, but he stepped forward and sighed. “...I’m sorry I bit you.” He mumbled.

“Speak clearly.” Sister’s authoritative voice boomed.

Dewdrop flinched. “I’m sorry I bit you, Y/N.”

You giggled, making Dew’s eyes light up hopefully. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I’m that I bit you too.”

After that, you were taken home to get some well needed rest.

Trying to get comfortable with your shoulder wound was difficult since you usually laid on your side when you slept, and you also started to feel unusually finicky as the sun went down. Your mom just wrote it off as the adrenaline from getting hurt that day, but you still worried about how you felt.

By the time midnight rolled around, it was way past your bedtime, you still felt strange. Your heart was racing and you felt your wound itch severely, but you weren’t able to scratch it due to the heavy bandage covering it.

You thought about removing the bandage, but didn’t want to be yelled at. But it was so itchy. Suddenly, your eyes started it itch too.

You got up out of bed with a huff and went into your bathroom. Turning on the light burned your eyes. It was normal for your eyes to burn when you turned on lights after being in the dark for so long, but you felt that it was worse than usual. It felt like your eyes were more sensitive than normal.

You wanted to remove your bandage just to see how it looked, but you saw something else when you looked in the mirror.

You gasped, noticing your eyes weren’t their natural color. One of your eyes were almost a bright yellow color, and the other eye was slowly turning the same. Slowly devouring up the normal color of your iris.

You didn’t know what to do, so you screamed for your mom.

Your mom quickly ran into your bathroom, fearing that you were hurt. But she immediately noticed your almost multicolored eyes. Those were not the eyes of the child she had raised for eight years.

She quickly saw that you were crying, you were scared. You didn’t know what was happening to you.

Suddenly, you felt a horrible pain in your mouth and yelped. Your mother screamed and you followed her gaze to the floor, where you saw teeth. Your teeth.

You reached up to your mouth to feel for your teeth, not believing that you had actually lost them. But you pulled away when you felt your fingers sting, they were cut.

You looked back into the mirror to see that your previous teeth were pushed out by new sharp teeth, a couple being fangs. “Mommy, what’s happening to me?!”

Your parents did what the only thing they thought they could do. They put you in the backseat of their car and started driving to the abbey.

On the way, you started crying again. The pain from your mouth ending, only to be replaced by what felt like a migraine on two sides of your head.

Your mother was sat on the passenger’s side, looking back at you from time to time with tears in her eyes. She almost let out a sob when she saw two stubby bone-like growths coming out of your head.

Your father didn’t even have time to park before your mom brought you inside the building, immediately shouting for help.

Sister Imperator came out in a robe with a scowl on her face, but once she saw you and your parents, her face contorted into a worried gaze. “What happened?” She asked.

“She just started losing teeth and her eyes changed colors! And now she’s growing horns!” Your mother cried.

All the commotion caught the attention of the Ghouls, the loud noises waking them up due to their sensitive hearing. They all gathered and peeked around the corner, curiously looking at each other. They all started pushing each other to try and see what was happening, ultimately falling on top of each other and catching the attention of Sister.

“You all are supposed to be in bed!” Sister Imperator scolded.

“Y/N?” Dewdrop said. “What are you doing here?” He asked, completely ignoring Sister.

“Keep that thing away from my child! He did this to them!” Your mother yelled, making Dewdrop turn his head in confusion.

“Now, now. Everyone calm down.” A heavy Italian accented voice echoed the room. Sister Imperator sighed when she saw Papa Nihil come into the room, oxygen tank trailing behind him. “I’ll take it from here, Sister.”

The old man led you and your parents into his office, pulling out a huge dusty book from a shelf. “Can you explain what’s going on, Papa?” Your father asked.

“I believe I can.” Papa Nihil said as he opened the book, dust flying everywhere as he turned the pages. “I’ve read about this before, hearing rumors of this sort of thing.”

Your parents motioned him to continue.

“It’s only really been recorded once in this book, but according to this section here,” Papa placed a shaky finger on a passage of the page, “it says that if a Ghoul bites a human, they have a five percent possibility of turning into a Ghoul themselves.”

“Five percent?!” Your father laughed. “Then how come my child is turning into one of those creatures?”

“Lower your voice. I know you’re upset, but this was an accident. We train our Ghouls from birth to never bite without cause.”

“Well, now, because of your Ghoul, our child will never life a normal life!”

You started to cry, not because you truly understood what that meant, but because you never liked when your parents raised their voice.

“This is not the time for raised voices. Think of the child.” Papa’s voice softened.

After some more grown up talk, your parents and Papa Nihil decided that you were to live at the abbey for now. They had no idea what the change from human to ghoul would be like, so they’d rather be safe than sorry.

At first, you really didn’t want to leave your home. But your parents convinced you that it was for the best, and you trusted your parents. You also liked the idea of being able to hang around the Ghouls more.

You spent the next morning packing your things, getting ready to live in the abbey from now on, until they decided you were safe. Your mother cried as you packed, which made you sad. But you tried to be strong for her.

A Sister of Sin and Papa Nihil escorted you out of your house and to the abbey, Papa trying to get you excited to be living there. You always liked Papa, he was a funny old man.

All the Ghouls, Papas, Sisters of Sin, and Sister Imperator greeted you at the front gate of the building. They tried to make you feel as welcome as possible to help you transition into Clergy life.

Dewdrop seemed especially excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was nervous to see you, not entirely sure if you turning into a Ghoul was his fault. He didn’t want you to hate him.

Upon seeing you, Dew quickly noticed your eyes. They were almost like his, but one of your eyes hadn’t fully changed colors. And your horns were coming in slowly, just like the rest of the Ghouls. But what really intrigued Dewdrop was your scent. He no idea why you smelled so good to him, it almost made him gravitate toward you immediately. But he was forced to stay in line with his fellow Ghouls.

For you, it was a bit weird seeing Dew again. You were still kind of scared that he’d bite you again, you also were starting to feel things that weren’t familiar to you either. It scared you.

But seeing Dewdrop’s warm smile made you feel hopeful for the future.

~~~~~~~~~~

I am so tired lol. I kinda feel like if a ghoul turns someone into another ghoul, they’d have like a type of sire bond. Like in vampire diaries only they wouldn’t be under the original ghoul’s control, but like in a romantic way they’d be bonded. But hey, that’s just a theory. A fiiiiiiilm theory...sorry.

[cortanaaq]

A/N: This came in later than I expected,it’s really long but I hope you enjoy it.

This is for the anon who requested nct or tbz spending Halloween with you. So I did nct 127 ;’) sorry for waiting 

**also thanks to @365nct, i used one of their incorrect quotes for the jaehyun one haha hope they don’t mind

  NCT 127 – Spending Halloween with you

 Taeil

-He was not really used to celebrating Halloween if it wasn’t for the SM Halloween party

-So this year you got him unprepared

-but he doesn’t mind celebrating as long as it is with you

-he came with the idea to have a couple costume and that was ,,,,

-yup you guessed it

-Beauty and the Beast

-but this time he was the beast and you ofc,the beauty

-because he can’t repeat the incident from 2017 where he was dragged to dress up as Belle and winwin was the beast- anyways

-he glares at you every time you bring it up lol

-this time he pulled the uno reverse card tho

-because he definitely treats you like a prince/princess all the time,he went shopping for costumes with you

-he bought everything you wished for,even the crazy unnecessary decorations like a stupid flying skeleton or a witch dressed as a hooker

-like what even is that?? He wondered but laughed when you gave him puppy eyes

-“it’s funny tho,it would look good at the entrance “

-he snorted

-obvs taeil couldn’t resist those eyes and the pouty lips that he kissed in the end

-spends the whole night eating the candies you’ve got

-he likes to take a loooot of selfies so be ready to be bombarded with funny filters

-after you both get tired of all the dress up thingy,you too decided to watch a horror movie

-classic but he knows what he’s doing

-whenever you cling onto his arm or squeeze his hand he smirks and hums into your ear

-you know he’s teasing and he chose that movie on purpose so you occasionally punch his arm when he tickles you with teasing small pecks on your cheeks and neck

-but you secretly enjoy it don’t lie

 Johnny

 -Oh johnny boy 

-I think for sure Halloween is his fave celebration because he always plans to visit Chicago in that period

-for this and for Christmas of course 

-he likes to celebrate it in the US cause the traditions are kept alive there 

-so he’s excited to take you trick or treating 

-You chose Corpse bride for costumes

-you were so excited to do his make up as Victor and he was excited to see you dressed for a wedding lmao

-While doing his make up before leaving for treating,he kept looking at you being so concentrated 

-“you look so beautiful like this babe”

-“johnny I look dead“

-literally

-he laughed and kissed you when he got the opportunity 

-and ofc he couldn’t contain himself from making cheeky remarks  either

-and you get mad at him for talking and smudging his make up by accident

-“you distracted me !!”

-but you like his annoying ass and would never be actually mad at him

 -plus he looked good even with smudged make up

-you think maybe it’s too smudged but he lifts you up and kisses you harder that before

-…and now you’re both smudged  but you don’t really mind as you kiss him one more time

-after all,you leave for trick or treating but realize you’re a bit old for this 

-he will not go home without corn candies tho so you’ll have to force him to do so -but because he looks around and sees mostly children,

-he suggests going to a party in the neighborhood 

-it was a party thrown by his friends ofc 

-and you were more than happy to show everyone the power couple you make together

 -he drives there,one hand on the steering wheel,one hand on your leg

 -occasionally caresses your skin and you blush a little 

-he knows your weaknesses tho

 -anywayssss

-you arrive at the party,everyone is in awe,,,he can’t really stop bragging about you

 -and you have a great time meeting his American friends for the first time

-seeing you tired after a while of being there,he comes closer to you and hugs you from behind

 -whispers in your ear how gorgeous you looked and how everyone loved you 

-and how he’s gonna take you home and spend more time as real ‘groom and bride’;;))

 Taeyong

 -this cute baby couldn’t be more excited to celebrate Halloween with you

-and not to baby him even more but his idea for the costumes was to dress up as among us characters

-yes,,among us characters

-specifically black and pink

-can you guess who’s who?

-he went full shopping mode with you and dragged you through  the stores only to find the perfect match

-and you did ofc

-you came with the idea to throw a party and invite the rest of your friends

-he checked the list of things you needed to buy for Halloween

-and you teased him saying he stressed too much and we should have fun instead of worrying

-“but baby you know if we throw a party,we need to have enough drinks and food”

-puppy eyes: checked

-speaking in tiny: checked

-how could you say no lmao

-and after you bought everything necessary (and unnecessary),,

-you came home to decorate and to put your costumes on

-tried to kiss but you forgot you had the helmets on lmfao

-you both giggled like two kids

-he looked so cute when he put his science goggles on his head

-and you made sure to capture every single angle of his cuteness

-too many pics ,,

-too many

-you had a lot of fun especially that you organized a costume contest

-and you didn’t win because you were the hosts pfff..

-it’s not like everyone voted you for having the coolest couple costume

-kinda sus if you ask me

-n ee ways

-the party was a success and everyone had fun

-you ended up eating so many sweets  

-even tho tyong told you to slow down

-he took care of you and bathed you in kisses and cuddles after everyone left

-“you eat too many sweets every Halloween,,do you even learn?” says as he caresses your cheeks and gives you a long forehead kiss

-“but I can’t help myself,,too good and sweet”

-‘”you’re too good and sweet”

 Yuta

 -It was the morning of 31st October

-the only thing in your mind was the Halloween party at sm you and yuta were going to attend

-and ofc you didn’t want a lame costume,you wanted something cute

-but powerful

-and not to be a cliché but you asked yuta if he wanted to be dressed as anime characters

-man did he give you a look

-he chuckled lightly at your request but couldn’t say no

-“baby the fact that you’re Japanese makes it 1000x better”

-you cup his cheeks in between your hands and he laughs holding you on his lap

-after all he agrees and you go shopping for costumes

-as you thought,you didn’t want to be the basic anime characters so you chose a cute and powerful couple

-Kagome and inuyasha

-When you saw yuta wearing that long white hair-wig,your heart did a flip

-he smiled so large when he saw you wearing that pretty school uniform

-you made him take you in his arms immediately only to start smooching your face

-“baby my make up”

-you were pouting,but he was smirking coming closer to your ear

-“ I will make up for this later,promise”

- he said that biting your ear lobe softly

-oh boy you wanted to forget about the party only for yuta to “make up” for you but

-you could’ve handled that later that night

-you had a great time partying with the members and other idols at sm

-yuta held onto you the whole night feeling so proud to have such a gorgeous s/o only for himself

-but what you had planned after the party was much more exciting ;;)

 Doyoung

-This little sh

-that you loved to the moon and back 

-was a bit skeptic about partying for Halloween 

-for your sake tho,he prepared a horror movie marathon for both of you

 -he also suggested cooking something thematic 

-you actually caught him few days ago watching an instagram video of ‘how to make eyeball lollipops”

-You were like ???

-“I want to make these for Halloween because you don’t need to bake anything you know”

-“so we won’t burn the kitchen down? Ok!”

-you agreed faster than he thought

 -and that made him doubt his cooking skills for a bit but anyways 

-you too didn’t really have anything planned for a costume but you decided to surprise him

-with a bunny costume

-not an onesie,no

 -bunny ears and a bunny tail 

 -while he was concentrated on cooking,

-you showed up wearing a cute lingerie and that bunny costume on you 

-“ hey bunny,wanna snuggle?”

-you leaned on the door frame while trying not laugh

-in that moment he was tasting the jam

-but when he turned around and saw you LIKE THAT 

-he snorted and dropped the spoon full of raspberries 

-he was absolutely sure you wanted to give him a heart

-attack somehow

 -but he came to his senses and approached you with a smirk on his face

 -you couldn’t even think for a bit because in the next second he lifted you up to kiss you 

-“you made me drop the food and make a mess,,do you think I’ll let you go with that?”

-you blushed harder than you thought and suggested to help him clean up the mess 

-but he cut you off mid-sentence with a deepened kiss only to tell you with a low tone

-“those raspberries can wait,the bunny wants snuggles doesn’t it?”

-you tried so hard to keep your cool but who can blame you?? 

Jaehyun

 -Another Halloween enthusiast

-he couldn’t wait to dress up as Gomez and Morticia Addams

-you even helped him with the make-up,drawing a mustache on his face

-“haha very funny’’,

-he responds sarcastically every time you look at him and try not to laugh

-but damn the costume was pure gold

-you both looked amazing and he even managed to kiss your hand,up to your arm and neck

-just like Gomez kissed his wife every time he had the opportunity

-you both went trick or treating,along with johnny,mark and other members

-then came back to the dorms and ate so many candies

-jaehyun couldn’t help but stare at you every time he had the chance

-and you knew this costume was a perfect match because you could show him how sexy and elegant you were

-taeyong prepared some food for you all and you had few drinks

-told a lot of horror stories and felt like kids again but jaehyun was waiting to go home only to spend more time with you

-“ the food is too hot,I can’t eat it ::( ’’

-you complained while the others turned their heads to look at you especially taeyong who was about to apologize for the food being too hot

-jaehyun: ‘’you’re hot but I’d still eat-“

--he was cut off mid-sentence by taeyong who slammed his hand down on the table

-“ONE MEAL

-“ONE NORMAL FUCKING MEAL JAEHYUN”

-you all started laughing and looked at jaehyun only to see him grinning like a little bitch he is

-you knew how cheeky he can be so you got up and came closer to him to wrap your arms around his neck

-closer to his ear so you can whisper nonsense, that apparently got him happier that you intended

-he was one lucky guy for sure

-and the Halloween was once again one of his favorite holidays

 Jungwoo

 -Jungwoo wanted something cute this year

-he was very excited to show you what costumes he prepared for you both

- he kept saying it was a surprise and told you not to prepare anything cause he will handle it

- so while you were preparing the candies for the kids, he snuck up on you and covered your eyes

- you could’ve sworn you felt something fluffy covering your face

- you touched his arms and tried to feel it

- and realized he was wearing paws

- ???

- “babe what are you-“

- he cut you off and turned you around to face him

- he was wearing a big Snoopy costume,with a red bowtie as well

- you felt yourself dying of cuteness

- because now you had THE actual snoopy as your boyfriend

- a bit weird but CUTE ok cute

- “do you like it?? the red bowtie is part of the costume so we could match”

- you looked at him all smiles

- his eyes were sparkling just like a puppy’s :,(

- He grabbed your hand and took you to your bedroom to show your costume

- it was the same snoopy costume but you had a red ribbon on top of your head

- you were excited to try it on

- and when you showed him the costume, he gently approached you to kiss your forehead

- “aren’t we the cutest?”

- after that, he helped you give sweets to trick-or-treaters and so many kids were in awe when they saw you two

- you took pictures to send to his family

- and in the end, you two ended up falling asleep

- cuddling on the couch surrounded by the candies left because you weren’t very active this year

- but still had a great time

  Mark

 -This year mark wanted it different

-he didn’t only wanted to crave pumpkins or go trick or treating

-he needed a break from every exhausting activity because being and idol

-and well,,

-being mOrk

-he was tired and needed an escape from that solicitant lifestyle

-he surprised you one day with a small trip to an orchard outside of Seoul

-you were so excited because you knew the weather was going to be in your favor

-plus you knew mark was a nonconformist and he wanted to make the time spent w you very special

-like every time

-such a cutie oml pls-

-you two took the train till there,admiring the view from the empty cabin you were in

-he was holding you close and your hand all the time

- occasionally he kissed the top of it

-but you always turned to give him a quick peck on his sweet lips

-you liked to see him all giggly and shy,rubbing his hand behind his head

-when you arrived there,you were accompanied by a guide

-showing you around the orchard

-you were so excited while looking around,looking at the different colors of the apples

-mark grabbed two baskets and offered to help you pick few red and beautiful apples

-you were picking them and from time to time you felt mark’s gaze on your body and smiled

-while he was distracted, you snuck up behind him only to see him startle

-you giggled when he picked you up,spinning you around

-only to leave a sweet kiss on your nose and lips

-after the apple picking,you went to a café that was only few miles away from the orchard

-ate apples on the way because you were a bit tired and very hungry lol

-at this cute café,you two spent some time chatting and just staring at each other

-because you were both cute little hopeless romantics <333

 Haechan

 -Haechan was actually going to lazy around that day but nope

-you dragged him out of the bed

-telling him you want to crave pumpkins because otherwise

-you will bite his ass

-he gave you the most shocked look

-then managed to laugh

-“I wouldn’t mind,just bite the corner,,just a small bite”

-you rolled your eyes and puffed air from your nose pretending to get mad

-you walked out of the room and grabbed your coat and the car keys

-“yeah right then I’m going to buy the pumpkins myself”

-he came after you giggling and insisting it was a joke

-but you knew and were obvs trying not to smile

-he was a sucker for your pouty face so he loved pissing you off

-little cute shit

-you finally arrived at the local market and bought two big pumpkins

-so orange and tasty

-haechan took a tiny pumpkin and said he’s going to make it your child

-“haechan I’m not gonna shove a knife into our kid,don’t name it!”

-he knew if he names an object and something bad happens to it

-you get attached to it and get sad

-so in the end he didn’t name it but still got it home

-at home,you tried to look on pinterest for craving ideas

-and haechan laughed cause that was silly

-“cmon babe are you seriously looking that on the internet? Just do- *stabs the pumpkin in the middle and cuts out the lid* -this”

-he looks at you with a smile on his face and you just stand there

-bamboozled

-like “I’m really dating a gemini huh”

-you try to cut your pumpkin but the skin was too hard

-and managed to drop the knife out of your hands with a loud bump on the floor

-haechan literally jumped thinking you cut yourself but you were just standing there,,

-bbq sauce on your tidd-

-jk jk

-you were standing there looking at the guts spilled all over the floor

-you sighed but haechan gave you a hug

-“you clumsy baby,gotta be careful. Let me do it for you,,you just scoop what’s left from the inside”

-and you did as he said a bit disappointed that he took the hard work

-even tho you wanted to show him you don’t need help

-but he knew you were an independent person anyway

-that’s what he loved about you actually

-after you were done with cravings,it was the tiny pumpkin’s turn to be cut

-you and haechan just turned to look at each other and he saw you giving him a trembling bottom lip

-“we can’t cut it baaabeee…” you whined

-“okay then just ..let’s draw a cool face on it,no harm”

-you agreed because obvs you couldn’t cut the child you had with him pff

-you took the marker and drew a caricature of your bf on it

-before showing it to him,you covered his eyes and suggested him to sit on the couch for few moments

-he was wondering what you were doing

-after a while you led him,eyes still closed,to the fireplace where you placed the pumpkins

-he opened his eyes and saw the tiny pumpkin standing between the bigger ones

-“see,these two are us and the tiny one is the kid”

-he gave you a look,his eyebrows rised but then laughed

-he hugged you and gave you a small kiss

-he then looked at the bigger pumpkins and stated nodding

-“damn we’re kinda ugly ngl”

taglist: @peachyhan​  --(who wants to be in the tag list,lmk!!)