#blue sandal for women

[tacofiend]

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Pleated Sheath Evening Dress (CDS487) in Dusty Blue from Ladivine ($230) & Baylor Sandal in Light Blue Metallic from Naturalizer ($69.99 - on sale)

[textilelab]

Brandon Maxwell

Pre-Fall 2023

Look 18

[shoesparadise]

[nanaslutt]

entering zenin clan as toji's little trophy wife

contains: fem reader, established relationship, age gap (not specified), misogyny, naoya needs his own warning, voyeurism, masturbation, choking, rough sex, riding, dirty talk, cumming inside (toji has a vacectomy), Toji is a good husband, praise

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Your large husband Toji stood in front of you, fastening the fabric around the kimono he had bought you for the special occasion. He himself was adorned in a dark blue kimono, the white fabric of the jupan peeking out from underneath the neckline of his kimono. He was wearing a pair of traditional setta sandals, you had never seen him look so formal and old-fashioned in your life.

"People really still wear this stuff?" You asked, watching him tie the light pink fabric in a bow that would rest on your hipline. Toji kept his eyes on his hands, working carefully, "You're making it too obvious you're not from a sorcerer family." He said, looking up under his dark eyelashes at you once he finished prettying you up. He took a step back, keeping his hands on your waist as he smoothed his hands down the sides of your hips, admiring his handiwork. A whistle from his lips made you blush, smiling up at the older man.

"Beautiful." He said, stepping up to you once again he pressed you against his chest, gripping his hands on the small of your waist he leaned down and kissed you softly, humming against your lips before pulling away. "Thank you Toji." You said, making the scar on his lip bend as a smirk graced his handsome features. "The geezers you're about to meet don't take kindly to.. women, they're old fashioned so do your best to stay close to me, not that I plan to leave you alone with them." Toji shivered internally thinking about what they would do to a pretty thing like you if he let you alone, not that he didn't have full faith in your skills, he knew you were strong, but he also knew how strong his family was.

"I figured out the old-fashioned part by the clothes, I guess misogyny just comes with that territory." You said lightly, making him huff out a laugh. "Don't take their words too seriously, especially Naoya, he respects me so It's hard to know if he'll say anything, but he's notorious for having a big fucking mouth." You watched Toji's expression while he spoke, a vein popping out under the skin of his forehead. "Especially with the women. I don't know if there's a single maid he hasn't harassed in some way or another." He said, growing irritated at the thought of him trying something with his wife.

"I can take it." You said, the soft touch of your fingers tracing Toji's cheek snapping him out of his annoying daydream, bringing him back to reality, his eyes shutting as he sighed, leaning into your touch. "We're just there for me to introduce myself, then we never have to see them again, right?" You asked, smiling when he cracked open his eyes and nodded at you. "What's the worst that can happen in a couple hours?" You spoke reassuringly. "You don't know my family." He sighed, covering your hand with his, pressing it harder agaisnt his face. "I wish I didn't either." His animosity made you smirk, he was working himself up too much.

"How did they even find out we got married?" You asked, Toji's hand dropping from your own as he stepped away to grab his phone on the table behind him and call for a ride. "Who fucking knows, they're so creepy they probably know your blood type and the time you were born by now." He mumbled, holding his phone up to his ear as it rang, reaching one of the drivers for the Zenin clan. You came up behind him, running your hands up his back, relishing in the feeling of the soft fabric of his kimono, before reaching his shoulders and massaging his shoulder gently as he spoke curtly to the man on the other side of the phone.

—

The two of you stepped out of the car, Toji first, taking your hand in his as you slid out after him, thanking the driver before you interlaced your arm in his. You were greeted by a kind-looking maid, she looked to be about ten years older than Toji, she bowed when the two of you approached. "Right this way Zenin." She said, glancing at the two of you before she raised her tired body and started a trail into the main building of the Zenin house. Toji cringed at the use of his last name, you felt his bicep tense when she uttered the word. You looked up at him, watching the muscles in his jaw flex as he repeatedly clenched his teeth together.

"I should be the one nervous." You whispered, receiving a glance from your husband, the shadow of a smile gracing his lips before he averted his gaze back in front of him, his eyes darting around to the familiar walls of his miserable childhood. "Being here makes me feel sick is all." He said. You absorbed his words, nodding to yourself as you looked forward, watching the fabric of the older woman's kimono crinkle on her back as she walked.

Toji had told you about his childhood before, but only the once; it was a sore subject after all. You knew it was a very toxic and abusive environment to grow up in, especially for Toji, as he was one to form his own opinions and morals, not letting anyone other than himself influence that; which his family did not appreciate in the slightest. "Here you are, please enter at your own pace." The woman spoke, looking Toji directly in the eyes and squinting before she bowed and walked away, following the hallway back the way you had just come down, presumably to complete some mundane task.

"She knows you, huh?" You asked, squeezing your arm tightly against his as the two of you stood feet from the massive sliding wooden doors that separated you from the main room, where his family was currently residing; chatter and laughter could be heard muffled through the thick wood. "That old dinosaur." Toji laughed quietly. "She was in charge of my main academic classes, would smack my hands with a ruler when I got an answer wrong, shit hurt." He said, you watched him smile, recalling the memory.

"And you're smiling?" You said, tilting your head confused. "Old hag was the only one who actually looked out for me in this hell hole." He said, shaking away the memory before looking down at you. "You ready sweetheart?" Toji asked, staring into your eyes fondly. When you nodded he leaned forward, pressing his plush lips to the top of your head before pulling back and taking a step forward, slipping his fingers into the inverted door handle he slid the door open, the loud grating of the wood announcing your arrival.

Immediately all chatter in the room stopped and all eyes were on you, not Toji, you. The aura in the room was suffocating, only a couple seconds in the presence of these men, and you had understood why Toji was acting so uncomfortable. They were strong, incredibly so, you could feel it. A man with long dark shaggy hair leaned back on the couch, his legs spread as he caressed his chin looking you up and down. You felt shivers crawl down your spine from his perverted gaze alone; his aura wasn't as strong as the others.

Continuing your scan around the room, your eyes landed on a younger-looking man with blonde- almost green hair, a brown halo of hair around his head, he gave you an incredulous look, man spread on the couch much like the last man, he had his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze focused on your chest, thankfully covered by the Kimono; and yet you still felt so exposed under his gaze.

Some other unmemorable men were scattered in the room, an old man with a high ponytail, a teen with short spiky hair, and a handful of longer hair wrapped in bandages behind his neck. One man stood out from the rest though, in terms of the sheer cursed energy radiating off of him, making you shiver, every hair on your body standing at attention. A silver-haired man, twice Toji's age, sat on the floor on a fancy-looking pillow in the center of the room, a half-empty whiskey bottle in his hand, his lips dripping the liquid. The man burped vulgarly, making you suppress a wince at the shameless action.

As much as his face alone looked perfect for the bottom of your foot, you knew this was a man who was absolutely not to be messed with. You guessed this was Nobito, Toji's uncle. "Toji tightened his arm around yours, keeping his gaze in front of him as you looked up through your lashes at him; he could feel your anxiety and was trying to silently tell you he was right there. Nobito laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he raised to his feet, taking long strides toward you and your husband.

He stopped in front of you, ignoring Toji's presence completely. "Bagged a cute little woman, Toji." He laughed, looking at you when he spoke. You maintained composure, keeping eye contact with the wrinkled man in front of you, his breath reeked of alcohol. "Too bad she doesn't know her place." A voice interrupted. Toji's eyes looked to the voice, his face staying unexpressed, making eye contact with the source of the noise, Naoya. "Who does she think she is? Dumb woman doesn't know she should walk behind a man?" He said, scoffing, a look of disgust plastered on his face.

"When you get a wife, feel free to treat her however you like," Toji responded, deadpanning. "Insult my wife again, I'll cut out your tongue." Toji's deep asserting voice made you shiver, a heat creeping over your face at how he had defended you without a second thought. Naoya presented a toothy grin to Toji, a vein in his forehead popping out in annoyance. Suddenly it was too hard to breathe. "Now now, ten years of radio silence from you, and this is how you want our reunion to start?" Nobito tsked, keeping his face in front of yours but darting his eyes to meet Toji's.

"Nice to meet you, sir." You said, bowing respectfully, looking up at the old man under your lashes. He smiled, taking a couple steps back from you. "She's polite~" Another voice resounded through the room- the teen with the rat tail had spoken. "At least she can do something right," Naoya mumbled under his breath, the bitter words not being missed by Toji. You quickly reacted, squeezing your fingers into his arm to warn him not to do anything stupid. His nostrils flared on his otherwise blank face, his chest rising in a deep breath before leveling out again.

Nobito walked back to his seat and picked up the bottle of whiskey, grabbing a glass from the table in front of him he poured a generous amount before sitting and pushing the drink in your direction on the table. All their eyes were on the two of you, waiting for you to sit. Usually, you would sit down first, Toji making sure you were comfortable before sitting down next to you. In this setting, however, you weren't sure this was the best idea.

Unlacing your arm with his, you gestured towards the table with your hands before holding them in front of you, looking up at Toji. He paused, looking down at you before he started for the couch, you followed hot on his trail. Naoya smiled at this, not being able to shake the feeling that he had some influence on your actions. Toji held his hand out for you before you sat down. Placing your hand in his larger one, you sat next to him, your thighs touching with the proximity. He continued to hold your hand, placing tangled hands on your thigh as he gripped his over yours, enveloping it completely.

You pressed your knees together tightly, not wanting to reveal even a centimeter of your skin to the men around you if you could help it. Toji picked up the glass in front of him, bringing the caramel-colored liquid up to his lips before he was stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist. The shaggy-haired man had grabbed Toji, tsking, "Thats for your pretty little wife." He smiled maliciously, Nobito grinned, watching the interaction. "She doesn't drink." Toji was quick to retort, pushing though the grip on his wrist he tipped the glass into his lips, tasting the bitter liquid on his tongue before swallowing.

"You keepin' her pure?" Naoya's grating voice once again spoke. Toji was right, the man constantly had something to say, and none of it was good. "She even old enough to drink? Fuck, did you snatch up a young one?" He laughed, the sound making you cringe. "I can drink, I just choose not to." You responded, making the blonde-haired man's smile immediately flush off of his face as his gaze dropped to yours. "Why is your wife speaking right now?" He asked, the question directed at Toji, but his eyes were on yours.

"Only speak when you're being spoken to, and even then, make sure what you have to say is meaningful," Naoya instructed. You looked visibly taken aback. Oh he wanted to die huh?Toji thought, the vein in his forehead showing itself from under the skin. He swore he was going to come back here and strangle the man to death in his sleep, and he would enjoy every last second of it. Who the fuck was he to speak to you like that?

“I don’t tell her what to do, and you sure as hell won’t as long as I live either.” Toji growled, his grip tightening against your thigh. "Naoya." Another voice cut in before things could escalate. The man with the ponytail prevented Naoya from digging his grave deeper. Toji's eyes were glued to his younger cousins, his heartbeat racing in his chest as he tried to calm himself down.

You had no idea how much self-restraint Toji really had. Whenever a man even looked in your general direction you had to physically pull him back on his metaphorical leash so he didn't kill him on the street. He took a large gulp of the liquid once more, he couldn't tell if the bitterness was easing the angst he was feeling or increasing it. Naoya lost the glaring battle with Toji, scoffing as he looked away. "How old are you, Naoya?" Toji spoke, holding the glass of half-empty liquor on his thigh, spreading his legs. "Twenty-six." He replied.

Toji laughed curtly, raising his eyebrows before he released your hand and wrapped his arm around the back of the couch. "Don't you think It's time you find a wife? Or you been havin' some trouble findin' a woman who you don't have to beat to act like your dog?" Toji spat, making the younger man fume across the room. A snicker could be heard from the teenager to your left. You had to fight back your own smile, you're pretty sure you would get smacked upside the head by Naoya himself if you did.

“How did the two of you meet, dollface?” The man with the dark shaggy hair questioned you. Toji could obviously see you looked visibly uncomfortable at the nickname the man had used, squirming in your seat before your opened your mouth to speak, “Me and Dollface met through a mutual friend.” Toji interrupted, making the weight on your shoulders lift and dissipate into the air.

“Your friend know anymore cute young things like your wife here?” The man spoke again, directing his question to Toji but looking at the expanse of your covered body, they all did that and you hated it. “None that would be interested in an old pervert like you.” Toji responded, trying his best to laugh through the situation so his fist didn’t end up through someone’s stomach by the end of this.

"So, do you come from a sorcerer family?" Nobito interjected, taking a swig from the whiskey bottle. The questions never seemed to stop coming from every direction in the room. "No sir, I'm the only sorcerer in my family." You responded a couple chuckles could be heard throughout the room at your response. Naoya almost burst a blood vessel keeping what he really wanted to say at bay. Sure, you had a nice figure, and a pretty little face to match—but you were arrogant and had too much of your own personality. Naoya had an an inkling your relationship wasn’t as traditional as you were playing it out to be.

Toji deserved to be with someone who listened to him, who didn’t speak out of turn, who could actually walk behind a man. You must’ve been good in bed for Toji to have put a ring on your finger with all those flaws, he presumed.

"She's a first-grade sorcerer before you open your pathetic mouths again." Toji defended. You pressed your thighs together. He was so stoic and serious, it aroused you to no end, and the way he wasn't afraid to show you off, fuck it was doing things to you. Some “Ooh’s~” echoed through the room.

"Pretty and useful." The old man with the ponytail spoke. You averted your gaze to some corner of the room when you saw some nods throughout the room. "She cooks and cleans too?" Someone teased, creating more chuckles to emanate throughout the room. Toji clenched his jaw in annoyance. If his family knew that he did most of the cooking, he was sure at least 5 of them would have an aneurysm in this very room. At least he could be left alone without fear of starvation while he doubted these grown men knew how to cook something as simple as rice.

"When are you having a child? She doesn't look pregnant now." Naoya blurted out confused, his words indicating that the only thing a wife was good for was having children. You couldn't help but feel too aware of your own body at his words, realizing you could actually be perceived, and were actively being so in this moment. You kept quiet, looking up at Toji, waiting for his answer to come. Truthfully, you wanted kids with him at some point, but you were still so young. The two of you had talked about it briefly, at decided you would revisit the topic in a few years.

Toji brought his hand to wrap around the back of your shoulders, rubbing the skin there before he spoke. "She's too young to have kids now, maybe a few years," Toji answered curtly. Naoya looked flabbergasted, leaning forward on his elbows he spoke exasperatedly, "What? Nonsense, there's no such thing as too young to have kids-" barf. "Her eggs are going to be dried up in a couple years." His lackluster knowledge of a woman's body amused you, once again suppressing a laugh as you pretended to scratch the tip of your nose, hiding your mouth from view.

Toji picked up on your amusement, smiling before he spoke. "What would you know about a woman's body?" He challenged, sliding his hand across your shoulders to drop back down to your thigh, squeezing the fat through the fabric, making you feel a heat between your thighs. Naoya's lip curled up in annoyance, keeping his eyes on Toji's. "Let's take a break, yeah?" Nobito spoke, his voice coming out slurred. "We have a room for the two of you, dinner will be ready soon, we can catch and learn more about your little wife more then, hm?" he said, the words phrased as a suggestion but you knew it wasn't that.

"After you baby," Toji said, nodding his head at you. You smoothed your hands over your thighs as you stood, standing, you bowed before the men as Toji stood with you. "Nice to meet.. most of you." You said, licking your lips to conceal your grin as you started for the door. Toji smirked, making eye contact with Naoya's obviously irritated face before he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting right above your ass as he let you out of the room, sliding the door shut behind the two of you.

"Well, that sure went!" you said, looking up at him and smiling through a cringe, making him laugh at your unfinished sentence, he knew exactly what you meant. "What you said at the end got me all worked up," Toji said, grabbing a handful of your ass as he started walking toward his old bedroom. "Huh?" You asked, confused. "No one talks back to that shitty guy, shoulda seen his face when you said that shit." Toji laughed. You caught on, realizing he was referring to your indirect jab at the blond-haired man before you left.

"Didn't realize bullying your family was one of your kinks." You teased, stopping in front of the doorway when Toji slid the door to his room open, holding his arm out atop the frame for you to go under. "You kiddin? Think it's higher up than my love for titty-fucking'" Toji teased, grabbing your hips as he followed you into the room. He shut the door with one hand behind him, before pulling you against his chest and pressing his lips to yours. "Sorry about those fuckin' assholes." Toji apologized, kissing the corner of your eye.

"It's not you who should be apologizing." You giggled, holding his face in your hands. "Plus, the way you were standing me up for me in there got me all wet." You leaned and whispered against his lips. "Yeah?" His deep voice whispered back, his breath tickling your lips as he hovered his mouth an arm hairs length away from yours. "Wanna see for yourself?" You asked, dropping one of your hands from his face to grab his wrist and bring it between the slit of your Kimono, under the jupan, so his large fingers were directly touching your damp panties. “Wanna hear how loud you can be for me, show these old fucks how good you take my dick.” Toji whispered, finally closing the distance and pressing your lips together.

—

In the other room, the men had not yet dispersed. Talking amongst themselves, they still collectively hung around in the main room. "She's a bold woman I'll give her that." The old man with the ponytail spoke with his arms crossed over his chest. Naoya fumed in his seat, his nose crinkling in disgust as he replayed your words over in his head. "Nice to meet... some of you." the fucking audacity. He was the heir to the Zenin clan, did you not know that? Talking to him like he's some trash, dumb woman.

"The only thing good about that noisy woman is her ass, what the hell does Toji see in her?" Naoya spoke, making Nobito laugh as he took another swig from the whiskey bottle, holding it by the neck. "She has a nice face, and she's undoubtedly strong if even Toji was willing to praise her like that in front of Nobito." The teen said, shrugging his shoulders. Naoya tsked, crossing his arms over one another, staring at some corner of the room angrily.

The locker room talk about your body and other discussions about you and Toji continued for a couple minutes before their talk was interrupted by a loud sound shrieking through the walls. The men raised their eyebrows, stopping all conversation as they waited to hear the sound again. "Agh!!" There it was again, the loud sound being muffled by the walls that separated them from the source. "The hell is that?" Naoya spoke first, his voice cutting into the otherwise silent room.

"Shh." Nobito hushed, setting the bottle down he scanned his eyes around the walls, waiting to see where the sound was coming from. "Ah-ah-ah!" He tilted his ear towards the direction of the sound when the moans came more steadily, his head tipping in the direction of where you and Toji were staying. Naoya was growing frustrated, already annoyed that his dad had hushed him in front of everyone. "Toji- Fuck-" That was all they needed to hear. Nobito let out a hearty laugh, as he raised to his feet, whiskey bottle in hand as he started for the sliding door that would take him to the garden.

Naoya's face was plastered with a blush, did you just-? "Fucking under Nobito's roof after being absent for a decade, heh~" The shaggy-haired man laughed. "He's marking his territory, bastard," Nobito spoke before sliding the door shut behind him, lounging on the edge of the deck. He thought you were eye candy, sure, but he didn't want to hear his nephew fucking his wife in front of him, he would rather be the one doing the fucking.

Toji's growls could be heard through the walls as he fucked into you, the sound of an old bed creaking through the walls was not missed by Naoya's ears. "Even her voice is cute." One of the men spoke. Naoya couldn't take this torture anymore, with his face completely flushed, he rose to his feet, walking quickly out of the room. "It's disgusting." Naoya spit, sliding the big wooden door loudly behind him.

Some maids were in the hallway gossiping when he exited. Giggling and covering their faces as they listened to Toji absolutely ruin your shit. His face burning hot as he leaned against the door, he glanced up at the women, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get back to work." Naoya hissed, the woman immediately dispursing to finish their chores. He sighed when they were out of sight, finally looking down at his Kimono, he noticed a tent had formed at his crotch, he looked at it in disgust, scrunching his face up as he made quick work to his room, which coincidentally neighbored Toji's.

--

"You like that baby? Like when I fuck your tight little cunt like this? Toji groaned, gripping your hips as he brought your ass back to meet his thrusts, fucking his cock into your g-spot with pinpoint precision. "Y-yes Toji- Love it- love it so much!" You groaned. He had you face down, ass up, and his hips were being so fucking mean. Mercilessly he pulled his cock almost completely out, before bulling the entirety of his girth into your tight pussy, loud squelches filling the room at how wet you were.

"Yeah you do, take my cock-" thrust "so" thrust "fucking" thrust "well-!" He grit through his teeth, his hips colliding with your ass and making the fat ripple. He had only pushed your kimono up, revealing your pussy to him, he himself had only pulled his cock out through the slit, making it easier for him to get inside you faster after he briefly stretched you out on his fingers. "You're so pretty baby, fuck- such a good fucking wife-" He groaned, making a point to say that last part extra loud.

He didn't feel like he had anything to prove to his family, he knew how good you were to him, and how in love the two of you were. He just wanted to make them jealous, they were all old, ugly, and wifeless or had shells of women on their arms after all. He saw how they looked at you, how they tried to look through your Kimono and get even a sliver of skin to feast their eyes upon. He wanted them to know they would never, in a million years, get the chance, so here he was, fucking his lively young wife, bubbly and full of personality, in their prison of a home.

"Wanna ride me, baby? Let em' hear how good you fuck me?" He asked, not letting up his assault on your pussy. You drooled and whined into the sheets, gripping your nails into the expensive cloth as your body jerked and slid across the sheets from his manhandling. Riding Toji was a rare feat, it got him so worked up. The angle at which your pussy sucked in his cock, how deep he got, always made him relinquish control unconsciously, which is why it was so rare he let you ride him.

You nodded into the sheets, your words getting slurred together when you mumbled out "yesyesyes" while he fucked you. Toji laughed, pulling out his cock he continued to jerk it slowly, spreading your juiced all over him before he plopped on the bed next to you, holding your outer hip to pull you towards him as he got comfortable against the sheets. With shaky legs, you slung them over Toji's hips, watching him still jerk his cock in his large hand as you situated your pussy to hover right over his fat tip.

"Sit down baby, fuck me." He said the smile your husband had on his face being controlled by lust and love together. His eyes immediately rolled to the back of his head when you sat down on his cock, his abs clenching and legs twitching as you eased his length into you. "Fuuuuck, that's good~" He groned, tipping his head back into the pillows as your pussy swallowed up his cock to the hilt. He could feel every bump and ridge of your cock, your warmth, how fucking tight you were in this position--he already felt himself going dumb.

"Fuck me baby, bounce on my fucking cock-" Toji begged, his hands coming to grip your hips and aid you the best he could in lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down on it. "God~ Toji, you're f-filling me up!" You whined, starting a quick pace on him, pressing your hands against his pecs for stability as you gound your clit against his pelvis every time his cock bottomed out inside you. Toji had his eyebrows scrunched together, his jaw dropped open as he moaned freely into the room, his moans overshadowing yours.

"Y-yeah? Feel my b-big cock fuckin' up 'ur guts?" Toji laughed through a deep whine, trying to watch his length disappear into your pussy when you sat down on it, but he was having a hard time keeping his eyes forward in their sockets. "Yes, Toji- fuck!" You cried out when one of his hands came down to rub his thumb against your clit. The added stimulation made you ride him harder as you chased your orgasm. He loved touching your clit not only because it made you feel good and he loved seeing your reactions to it, but also because your pussy tightened up like it was trying to constrict his cock when he did so.

His body jerked forward every time his dick slid inside you, his deep voice laughing through his arousal when you stopped your bouncing and instead ground against him. The movements made his cock rub against your sweet spot deep inside you. He watched your head tip back as your nails dug into his chest at how good you were feeling. "Choke me baby, cmon~" Toji begged quietly into the air, needing to feel your smaller hand squeeze around his neck when you came.

One of your hands slid up the expanse of his chest, traveling over the fabric of the Kimono as you splayed your fingers out along his neck, giving him a squeeze. The smirk on his face grew tenfold, a dopey grin spreading across his features. "Yesyesyes baby- yesss-" His words were slurred, his eyes rolling back every time his cock was forced against your walls from your incessant humping along his pelvis.

"Baby I'm gonna cum-" You spoke breathlessly, squeezing your hand tighter around his throat as you were brought closer and closer to your high. Toji was getting dizzy, not just from you choking him out, but from watching you shut your eyes and hump yourself on his dick, getting yourself off on him like he was some sex toy--and he fucking loved it. "Yeah- use me baby, use me, cum all over my dick baby please~" He groaned, his jaw falling open and closed like a fish out of water, his eyebrows scrunching shut as he watched your orgasm crash over you.

Your hand around his neck loosened when you came, your orgasm wracking through your body as you jerked and twitched on top of him, your hips losing their rhythm. That was Toji's sign to take over. He abandoned his thumb on your clit and brought his hand back up to join the other in grabbing your waist. He planted his feet on the bed and started pistoning his hips against your ass like a madman. He fucked you through your orgasm and into overstimulation as he brought himself to his own high.

He watched you grit your teeth and squeeze your eyebrows together, pushing through the painful pleasure. "Almost there baby- doin' so good letting me use you like this- fuck-" He praised, shaking his head agaisnt the sheets as he watched your body bounce limply on top of him. Toji was too fucked out to announce before he came, but you knew. His hips lost their rhythm, his voice got higher and higher in pitch before he stilled his hips against your ass.

He groaned hard as he felt the first ropes of his cum shoot inside your pussy. He shot his body up and wrapped his arms around your torso, hiding his face in your neck as he bit down hard against the skin there, letting your cunt milk his balls as his hips stuttered agaisnt you, his cock releasing all of his seed as deep as he could into you. "Fuuuck-" He groaned against your skin when he started coming down from his high.

You pulled your head back, grabbing his face between your hands you pressed your lips to his, breathing heavily against his lips as the two of you kissed passionately. You pulled away, smiling at his flushed face, "Probably sounded like we just made a baby." you giggled, wiping the sweaty strands of his hair from his forehead. "If they ever find out I got a vasectomy, they might have a heart attack," Toji smirked, making you giggle as he peppered kisses on your face. "So maybe we should." He added, dropping his kisses to your neck as the two of you embraced each other, his softening cock still snug in your walls.

In the room over, a fuming Naoya sat on the edge of his bed, his jerking slowing over his softening cock, covered in his own cum as he tried to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Fucking... bitch.." He whispered into the room, covering his ashamed face with the back of his arm as he flopped back agaisnt his sheets.

—

The two of you spent another hour cleaning up and enjoying each other's company as you sat outside of Toji's room, your back against the wall of the sliding glass door, Toji sitting in front of you, your clothed feet in his hands as he massaged them softly, listening to you speak. "You ready to leave, princess?" He asked when the conversation died down. You sighed, "I wish your family weren't such assholes, food always tastes better when it's free." Your husband gigged as you retracted your legs, pulling on your sandals as the two of you stood to your feet.

"I'll take you out tonight, you look so pretty in this after all, it would be a waste to not enjoy you out like this," Toji said, walking up to you and holding your waist in his hands as he gave you a one-over. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips before the two of you made your way back inside to say your goodbyes to the men of the household.

Entering the same room you met them all in before, they were all in their respective places, even Naoya. They all looked over at the two of you as the doorway slid open, Toji's hand on your waist. "We won't be staying for dinner, it's been awful, as always," Toji smirked, looking around the room but spending a little extra time on Nobito and Naoya. You smiled in faux politeness, the bright red bite mark on your next standing out like a sore thumb when you tipped your head to the side. "You think you can just use my home as some sex hotel, and leave?" Nobito asked incredulously, raising en eyebrow at Toji before taking a large swig of the alcohol. You silently prayed he would die in this moment of alcohol poisoning.

Naoya's face was bright red as he stared at the pair of you in disgust, his observant eyes picking up the bruises across Toji's neck from you stranging him in bed. "Watch us." You replied, which made a proud Toji Zenin look down at you and smile. The two of you backed up and shut the door behind you, leaving quickly without another word.

[kenyummy]

BEACH DAY — BLUE LOCK

SYNOPSIS: as a manager during the nel, a well-deserved rest was needed. what better way to rest than a fun day in the hot summer air, in a bikini, at the beach?

note: this was originally a special for 100k reads on my wattpad book found (which u should SO read btw #shamelesspromo) but to avoid confusion i edited out a lot of mentions of the manager characters who were included in this short! i really hope you all enjoy!

wc: 6.2k

TODAY

is a completely regular day of fun outings. Shidou had (in)formally organised a beach trip, something you decided would be a good idea. The NEL has been stressful on all of you, whether it be you and the other managers, the players, or even coaches—taking a good day off seemed to be a good idea.

So, you were heading to the beach.

The place where women can wear skimpy bikinis without being called promiscuous names (it would happen anyway—but in a perfect world everybody would mind their own business) and the place where strange men (some of those men may happen to be named Otoya and Aiku) would check out the local fauna dressed in said skimpy bikinis.

It was a fun day of splashing around in the waves, ignoring all problems present in your life, and unwinding in the grainy sand. You miss it. That is why, even though you're sure this will happen to end up in disaster, you agreed. 

So, this is what got you in this predicament now—thirty minutes before you had to get there with a ten minute trip driving—that was all that was left for you to remember everything.

Swimming outfit. A change of clothes. Sandals that won't trap sand. What else...

You ponder as you stare down at your duffel bag, filled with everything you need. Money—food stalls at the beach were always ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason, Floaties—you never know when somebody might just need some abrupt saving. Towels—plenty of towels, A robe—you'll probably be a little chilly when you get out of the water.

Apart from the obvious essentials like hair ties, deodorant, sunscreen, keys and whatever other odd things you need whenever you go out—you think you're good to go. 

You take a good look at your swimsuit. You haven't worn it in a while. A simple black two-piece with each front piece of fabric being held together with two silver rings—it's a little smaller than you would've liked, but you don't own any other kind, so you decide to just go with it.

You roll up your towel nicely and tuck it into your bag, then zip it up. You stare down at the fat duffel bag that is practically bursting at the seams. You are ready to take on the final boss—the beach.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling at the tight elastic band of your bikini. It digs into your skin slightly. Hissing through your teeth—you decide it's nothing, and quickly make your way outside.

With your bag under your arm, you walk out and look around. Two of the other manager girls said they'd saved a spot underneath a bright purple umbrella. It takes little effort to spot it in all its neon glory.

They both sit atop a beach towel, with odd things like sunscreen, keys, and waterproof mascara all scattered around them. You wave a little before you sit down on a part of the towel, taking in the sight of the beautiful beach.

Children running around, adults chasing after them—some guy was even getting told off in the middle of the waves for losing his swim trunks. All in all, the beach was positively bursting with rich energy.

You missed this. You haven't felt this calm in a good while. Dealing with all those rowdy boys vying for your attention—it took a toll on you.

Too bad this peace would not last for too long.

Your phone dings. You pick it up and press on the notification—it's a snap from Shidou. You hesitantly click on the picture and it's a closeup of his left eye—but in the background, you can see the side of the building you had just changed inside, and a shirtless Otoya is trying to kick at somebody.

You don't even have the chance to properly react when a loud yell interrupts your thoughts. You snap your head towards the sound so fast your neck aches—the source was Rin on the floor while, even though a second ago a phone should've been in his hand, Shidou is jumping him.

A smart, sassy quip and loud groans erupts from both you and the other manager girls—you slap your phone down and squeeze your face in your hands.

Perhaps this is the start of doomsday, you think as the overly massive group starts making their way towards you and your blaring purple target of a neon umbrella.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

"[name]!!" Bachira crashes into you—with the way he knocks you both to the sandy ground, he should be playing rugby instead of soccer—and rubs his cheek against yours like a loving cat. "I'm so excited to see you again! You never come by our stratum!!"

He's flat on top of you and the stares you're receiving start to grow uncomfortable. You push back at his chest but he simply opts to sneak his arms around your shoulders, "Bachira...!! Let me... get up..."

It takes the brute force of Barou King Shoei to remove his figure from latching onto yours. With a twitching brow and eyes that could stab daggers into Bachira—a small laugh unintentionally escapes your lips when he talks, "You're all sandy, you disgusting bug. If you get all that sand on the towel, I'll seriously kill you."

Bachira is being held up by the scruff of his water suit like a cat. He dangles in the air and flings himself at Barou next—"Fight me, king!"

"YOU—!!!"

Ignoring the upcoming brawl on the ground, you step over the two and you find your way towards...

"Hello, Isagi." 

Your voice seems to make him jump—his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of your face and he looks far too nervous to be speaking to you. "O—Oh... Hello, [name]...! It's good to see you again..."

He's trembling and making such intense eye contact that you wonder if he's okay. His fists are clenched hard beside his body and you think he might just about have a heart attack. "Are you... okay?"

He answers a little too quickly, "Yes! I'm fine, haha, why would you worry about me? I'm totally good! Best I've ever been! Why would you ask? I look okay, right? Well, I gotta go now! I'll see you later, [name]!"

He runs off like he's a high school girl who's just had her first conversation with her senior crush. I can't tell if he's insecure about how he looks or worried about being disrespectful to me.

Maybe it's a mix of both. Isagi is on the slimmer side, compared to guys like Barou. Even though I know he's not, he looks like he's on steroids. 

And Isagi's always been worried about being disrespectful to you—worried about overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortable—at least when he's in his usual, clear state of mind. There's no telling what he's thinking when he stares down at you late at night after a good game with that overconfident, egotistical smirk.

Anyways—he's rushed away by now, and you're just standing here looking all stupid. Oh well. At least you're not alone for too long, because your attention is quickly stolen away by a certain trio. 

Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya all come up to you—only one bothers to wave or even smile (there's no surprise he's a model—he's seriously gorgeous, you note when glancing down at his torso).

"Hey." The sneaky ninja is not so sneaky anymore, because he doesn't even try and disguise the way he's staring at your chest. He gives you a thumbs up, to which you scowl, "Lookin' good."

"Get your eyes off my chest."

"Sicko." Karasu shakes his head with a disappointed expression. You deadpan.

"You too, stupid crow."

"Did your mothers not teach you respect?" Yukimiya clicks his tongue—eyes fluttering closed as he shakes his head. He soon turns his head towards you and he actually does make eye contact with you—a step above his two friends. "It's nice to see you, [name]. You look very nice. Ignore these two."

You promptly ignore the offended looks shot at the model—you opt to just stare, perhaps a little too dreamily (but you couldn't care less, really), and smile back, "It's nice to see you too, Yukki. Thank you, you look handsome today, too. I was planning on ignoring those two, anyways."

"Woah, that is seriously hurtful." Karasu places a hand over his bare chest where his heart would be. "Too bad I don't care."

You roll your eyes. "Of course you don't, stupid crow."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"Would you stop staring at my boobs?"

He pauses. "Point taken."

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Having Nagi cling to you during your time at Blue Lock is pretty hard already. Believe it or not, he's 6'2, and believe it or not, having a grown 6'2 man hanging off your side makes it pretty hard to get around. 

Having a shirtless, messy-haired Nagi plant himself right on top of you and having his face smushed against the top of your chest is a little worse.

You can feel a burning stare at the back of your head. You're not sure if the stare Reo is giving you is directed at you or the snow-haired boy. (Perhaps it is both and he's just conflicted—you would understand).

"Nagi..." You push back at his head and slowly intertwine your fingers in the white locks. They're softer than you imagined, but the ends are unmistakably dead. You should cut it for him later. "Go swim or something."

You are disappointed (yet, not the slightest bit surprised) when he promptly shakes his head no and proceeds to dig his nose even deeper into your exposed skin. His voice is slightly muffled, but still plausibly understandable, "Nuh-uh. Dun' wanna."

Your eyes twitch. Perhaps you have been spoiling him a little too much—so much so he refuses to leave you be. 

"'Cause I didn't wanna go, but then mmmm... uh—Reo told me you were gonna come... and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle if you stayed with me. Hadn't seen you in so long. Missed you."

Right. You forgot he told you that before, too. Perhaps you had been a bit too doting on Nagi—he's clingy-er than you remember. Or perhaps it had been similar to that saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

A loud shriek (it sounds far too girly to have come out of Nagi's mouth, but go figure) alerts you and you see Nagi has been grabbed backwards into a headlock by Barou King Shoei. Perhaps he had turned away from the villainous side since your last meeting with him, because right now, he's saved you twice, like a hero.

Nagi doesn't even fight the King's death grip—he flops like a dead fish and it looks rather funny seeing it so closely. Nagi is taller, yet much lankier than Barou, who looks like a bodybuilder compared to the lazy snowhead.

"You're kicking sand all over the towel, Mr Hassleman." Barou snarls and jerks Nagi's head back. The boy doesn't react other than wearing his little :x face. "Go swim it off. Now."

Nagi does not make any visible effort to move. Barou still holds him like a ragdoll in his grip when he turns to look at you—you laugh a little and move your sunhat out of your eyes. "Hi, Barou. It's nice to see that you came. I didn't think you'd like the beach."

He looks a lot different with his hair down, you note. But in a good way. Fallen beneath his shoulders—you wonder why he does not wear it this way more often. He still holds his signature forever pissed-off expression, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm incapable of having fun?"

You pause, with a small grin. "Yeah, kinda."

He gives you a deadpan expression. "You're the same as always, you shit manager."

"I thought our relationship had progressed to the point we'd gotten past these mean names." You place a hand over your chest, a cheeky smile on your lips with a faux-hurt expression. You didn't usually joke around like this—it wasn't really your thing—but he was just far too easy of a target to tease. "I'm hurt, King."

He cocks a brow—you see Nagi trying to wriggle around now, and it's good to know he didn't actually die—"Seriously? Didn't think you were the type of person to care."

"Doesn't matter now. You're gonna swim, right?" With a nod of his head, you break away from his sharp stare and give him a small wave with a closed-eye smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh yeah—by the way, you look good with your hair down. You should do it more often. Anyways, see you later."

You do not catch the half-hearted wave Nagi sends you—which was just him flopping his arm up in the air—nor do you catch the look Barou throws over his shoulder at you, "... Not too bad yourself."

He says, but you do not catch it.

Nagi stares up at the man with a blank expression, "Who knew you were all sweet on our manager, huh, King?"

The King in question growls like an animal and tosses Nagi into the ocean like a ragdoll, "Shut the fuck up!"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

"Beach volleyball?" Chigiri stares with confusion in his bright pink eyes as Kurona sits on Gagamaru's shoulders—setting up the tall net. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you serious?"

His head turns to yours when you shrug, "Why not? Beach volleyball is super fun. It's not like you guys can play soccer on the sand."

Chigiri pauses to think your words over for a second. You give him the most empty stare you can muster before you speak, "You really can't play soccer on the sand, Chigiri."

"Well, still. Are you gonna play?"

You shake your head and spare him a small smile. "No, I think I'll pass on this one. I'd like to see you play, though. You seem like you'd be really good at volleyball."

He gives you a pretty smile and shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't really planning to play either. I was honestly just thinking of sitting down with you and just relaxing."

"Oh, but I really would like to see you play. I bet you'd be better than anybody else out there, Hyoma." Not to be brass or anything, but you like to think you know a good amount about Chigiri—including how to get him to do what you'd like: Fan his ego. Or to put it in better words, praise him. "I think you'd look pretty cool."

You give him the nicest smile you can muster, and you're sure that's what seals the deal. He turns his head away from yours—yet you can practically sense the smirk he now holds—"Well, if you really think so, why not?"

You laugh a little as he walks onto the court, and each side with six players—even if in official beach volleyball, there were only two on each side, this was the most unofficial game you've ever really witnessed.

Otoya and Karasu are jumping on each other's shoulders in an effort to block the spikes—it only ends in the one on top tumbling to the ground and Yukimiya shaking his head in an I'm not mad, just disappointed motion.

Bachira is using his feet to play, kicking the ball up even when his hands were a completely more viable option—you think this is illegal, but who are you to judge—and Shidou is doing the same thing, except he... is hogging the ball. You aren't even sure how you hog the ball in volleyball, but he's managing it.

Rin is the one who manages to get it away from him but it only ends up in another tussle—something you do not bother to stop because one of the manager are already running toward them with a can of hairspray (which, if you were not previously aware, has the same effect as pepper spray if directed into the eyes).

You loll your head back and let out a heavy sigh. This beach day was going better than you had expected—still, your group by far had gained the most traction from how loud you all ended up being. You've gotten countless stink-eyes from old people, especially when Shidou yells out profanities in the vicinity of little children. 

You wonder if the police may get called on you all. Maybe you should pretend you're not in their group as a last-ditch effort if it does end up happening.

You are broken out of your thoughts by a small, almost nervous greeting, "Um... hey, [name]." 

You look to where the source of the sound came from—you get an eyeful of Isagi's bare torso before you see his face. He's looking off to the side awkwardly as if the mere action of looking at you would be purgatory, and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he grips the end of his swimming shorts awkwardly. It's cute.

"Hi, Isagi." You smile. You shuffle over to create a little more room on the towel you are sitting on. You pat the free spot beside you and nudge your head towards him, "Come sit."

Obediently—you didn't expect him to move so fast—he sits beside you. He still looks stiff and nervous, so you ask him what's up. He responds, quickly but much quieter than his usual calm tone, "I was... um... ah, this is so stupid..."

He sucks in a deep breath of air and turns his back towards you. It's a little more built than you imagined. "I was... just gonna ask if you could put sunscreen on my back... I can't reach, and I trust you more than the... others."

You can practically feel the way his face burns up from how his voice cracks and grows more hushed with every word. To save him from the embarrassment, you decide to spare him from teasing words. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm glad you trust me, Isagi."

The words come out a little more sultry than you intended as you test the waters and place your fingertips on his bare shoulders. He shivers. You can feel it.

You spread the sunscreen all over his back—he places his face in his hands as you work your hands a little lower. When your fingertips brush against the waistband of his shorts he has to bite back a small groan. This was utterly humiliating for him—seriously, this was sad.

You're not completely oblivious to this fact, so in a menial act of pity for the poor guy, you try and finish up as quickly as possible—if only to save him from the embarrassment. 

It feels far too intimate to be just a friendly gesture. He wonders if you feel that way too. You lightly rest your palms on his tense shoulders when you are done, sitting on your knees and leaning your face near his own, "Done."

He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. He swallows thickly, blunt nails digging into his palms as he shuffles around so he faces you. The words that come out of his mouth are a little shakier than he would've liked, "T... Thanks... [name]."

The smile you have plastered on your face is nothing short of pretty, he thinks. "No problem. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?"

Why do you have to say things like that, [name]?

Isagi gives you a small nod, and practically forces a wavy smile onto his lips. "Yeah... You're really helpful, you know that?"

You laugh. "I know."

The mood between you two is calm and the strange tension from before has dissipated. You're smiling from ear to ear, about to say something—when Isagi's demeanour changes completely. You're not too sure why, but he seems to spot something behind you and his eyes completely shift.

Gone is the meek and shy boy, and in his place is a coy, smiling man. He places a hand on your upper arm—it makes you jolt and look at him in surprise. A second ago, he couldn't even look you in the eye, and now, he was shuffling closer towards you like it was the most natural thing ever.

"Anything, right?" He finally speaks, and he moves his hand up, away from your arm and it lightly traces underneath your jaw. He looks deeply into your eyes, but still keeps glancing behind you. "Can I do this?"

You do not get a chance to ask what this happens to be—although, it does not take a genius to figure it out, and you are no genius—or even spare him an answer before he grabs your hardcover novel and holds it up in front of where the two of your lips meet—covering your kiss from the other players that surround you all.

He doesn't dare take this further than a small kiss—yet, it wouldn't be considered a simple peck either. His hand holds the underside of your jaw lightly and tilts your head up so he can easily feel you and the back of the hard-cover book feels cool against your cheek. 

You'd like to believe the reason your cheeks are on fire is from the blaring heat of the sun shining down on you—even though you are underneath the shade of that purple umbrella. His lips taste sweet, like a fruity drink. You think a stall nearby is serving something similar to that.

You can feel his smile against your lips, and he seems to be all too happy to have you like this. He tilts your face forward and your body has to follow—to the point you practically collapse into his lap. It feels much more intimate now that you can feel his bare skin against your own.

Isagi moves his hand down from your jaw down toward your waist, holding you taut against him and letting his fingertips rest in the dip of your back. 

You finally end up moving backwards, and your sunhat almost falls off your head—Isagi quickly readjusts it when he pulls away. He gives you a sweet smile—though, it grows more cocky when he glances behind you again—and says, "You really are helpful, [name]."

You blush a little but still retain that same smile when his hands trace down your spine gently, romantically. "I know."

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Isagi joins in on the beach volleyball fun with Nagi after Rin and Shidou leave in favour of taking a dip in the sea (you think you hear Shidou saying something about skinny-dipping, and you pray to every god imaginable you heard wrong), so you are left to yourself once more.

You are perfectly content. Your sunhat lay on the towel beside you and your legs are peeked out in the sun—reading your book where you last left off.

Your life is perfectly calm until it is not.

Hands suddenly cover your vision and all you see is darkness. You jerk your head up and are about to say something when a heavily accented voice suddenly rings out throughout your ears, "Guess who?"

You could recognise that voice in your sleep from how often it haunts your dreams. You recognise that voice even before you hear it. You slump down where you sit, letting out a heavy, almost tired sigh. "Kaiser..."

"Ah! How did you guess it so easily, hübsches Mädchen?" He removes the hands blocking your vision and he suddenly plops himself down, right in front of you—of course, his little guard dog is right by his side, sporting his usual guileless expression. "Perhaps you think of me far too often, hm? Also, I told you to call me Michael. We are closer than that, no?"

You shake your head, eyes slightly squinted at him. "I don't know about that. Hello, Ness."

The puppy-dog boy waves his hand at you, clearly delighted. "Hello, [name]!"

Kaiser looks annoyed at this interaction. He scoffs, rolling his electric blue eyes and waving you off mindlessly, lashes fluttering closed, "Whatever. I cannot believe you're just reading at the beach."

You raise a brow. "What's wrong with that?"

He picks up the book by its spine and tosses it nonchalantly on the towel beside you, lips curled downwards into a sneer, "It's terribly dorky. You look like a huge dork."

"You sound like you care about that more than me."

"I don't want my love interest to look like a huge geek. Appearances matter a lot, you know." Yeah, you make that really clear. He abruptly stands up—Ness scrambles to get up as well—and looks down at you, finger curling upwards towards you like he's beckoning you to follow him. "Come on."

You blink with your nose scrunched up. "Excuse me?"

He coughs into a closed fist, looking up at the bright blue sky so he doesn't have to meet your gaze. He still holds a hand out to you, "Come on. Don't keep me waiting."

You're so shocked that you actually find yourself following after him—though, you do not take his outstretched hand and it is left hanging awkwardly. Ness would've taken it.

Your sandals flop on the sand as you walk down the beach, past families and couples and people simply wanting to tan—you follow behind Kaiser in silence while Ness walks beside you. You hope people don't think of you three as a throuple. That would absolutely not be good for your image whatsoever.

You pause as soon as you realise exactly where he is leading you. He's stepped halfway into the water when you halt your movements right before the splash of a wave hits your toes.

"Yeah, no thanks." You abruptly turn on your heel and proceed to try and make a getaway—you don't get too far until Ness grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards. You tumble into him—somehow, he doesn't fall over and only grabs your upper arms in his hands with a frantic expression.

"Please, [name]! Kaiser really wants to swim with you!"

Kaiser hisses through his teeth lowly and stares at Ness like he's just cursed out his mother, "What the hell, Ness?! I never said that!"

The small boy does not make it very subtle when he gasps in shock. Ness slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head—his voice is muffled when he speaks, but you can still understand slightly, "I—I never said that! Nobody said that!"

He's so embarrassed the poor boy rushes into the water and disappears beneath the waves. You wonder if he has become one with the sea. In the distance, you can see Kurona and Hiori chilling on a large unicorn floatie—with drinks and colourful straws—that should've only been able to fit one person.

You and Kaiser are now just staring at each other in very much awkward silence. You take a languid step back. "Well... If you don't want to swim..."

Once again, you do not get the chance to dash away because he's grabbed you and pulled you into his grasp before you could even react. You look at him with wide eyes—but you're practically putty in his hands when he bends down and clasps his arms over the back of your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder like a menial sack of potatoes.

Your sandals fall off your feet as soon as you find yourself tucked over him—you let out a very loud, very offended, very embarrassed gasp of shock, "What the hell... ?! Kaiser—put me down! Sick bastard!"

Your words have no visible effect on him. Your head slumps down when you feel him walking, and your hair hangs over your head. You get a good eyeful of his back. He's also more muscular than you imagined. Makes sense why he could even do this. That doesn't mean you're not pissed, though.

You can't see his face, but you can practically envision his signature cocky smirk and how it paints his stupidly handsome features, "I'm all fine, hübsches Mädchen. Are you ready?"

Huh? Ready for what—!!!

You feel so indiscriminately stupid for even asking this question—you should've already known the answer—because you suddenly find yourself collapsing into the water, salt filling each of your senses and the loud noises of children screaming around you fading to muffled nothingness. 

You jump up as fast as you can—you're just tall enough so you can stand with your chest above the waves. You start coughing to try and get the small amount of water you happened to swallow out of your system—your hair is now wet with the water and is suddenly heavier, and you're shivering cold.

Kaiser, the asshole he is, is laughing wildly at your expression. You push your hair away from your vision and you receive an earful of his—stupidly charming—laughter. His hands clamp over his mouth in a last-ditch effort to muffle himself, which only makes your face flush hotter with anger and your chest tightens.

You want to yell and scream into his face, but you choose the better way out. You puff your cheeks out and hold your breath as you dive back under, swimming behind him and slamming your foot into the back of his knees so that he tumbles forward, face-first into the water.

You've never felt prouder of yourself.

You bob your head back up and start to laugh wickedly now—it was his turn to look like a drowned rat. When his head comes above water, you can't help the tears of laughter that brim across your waterline when he gives you a deadpan, silently fuming glare.

His wet bangs cling to his face (somehow, it suited him—the mere thought made you feel a little angry, in the way that your stomach started to feel all weird and your heart skipped a beat or two) and his red eyeliner is smeared down his cheek. He pushes his blonde hair back, so that his damp bangs fall over his left eye and his hair is parted strangely to the side.

"Hmph." He looks away from your figure—you have to cling onto his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over, and your chest heaves up and down wildly to breathe. "I don't know what you find so funny."

You look up at him from your slumped position, eyes squinted upwards and you're practically sparkling with joy, "You... you look hilarious! Ahahaha—look at you! I can't—" Your words are cut off by your gasps for air.

Kaiser does not look the least bit impressed. He stares down at where your cheek is planted on the side of his neck, right where the blue rose lies. His hands stabilise you by falling into the small of your back—right where Isagi's fingertips once touched.

You finally regain your composure and move away from how you were practically pressed up against him—your cheeks are starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling, and you now sport a much calmer sort of grin when you stare up at him. "Ah... I'm sorry—don't look so mad—"

He rolls his eyes, which makes you chuckle, hands resting on his shoulders, "Oh come on... don't look at me like that... I'm sorry..." Your tone is far too playful to sound apologetic. He is slightly enjoying the attention you bestow upon him, but the thought makes his head hurt so he chooses not to reflect on it. "Michael..."

Fuck. His name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.

He still keeps up the annoyed act, however, even when you grin up at him with that stupidly pretty, stupidly knowing look, "Don't be like that... I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

The blonde pauses, blinking owlishly and looking down at you. You are still smiling, and he can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. You almost look dazed, probably from your previous session of full-blown laughter.

His hands still rest lowly on your hips. He moves one and tilts your chin up with his thumb, "Hm." A smirk coils onto his lips and in an instant you can see the happiness that practically radiates off his being. "I think this will suffice, for now."

He leans forward, and suddenly, he is kissing you. Unlike Isagi—he wastes not a second to slip his tongue between your lips and kisses you as deeply and passionately as he can muster—it's so Kaiser, so him that it makes your stomach twist within itself.

His hands run down the side of your body—the places where his rough fingertips meet the skin that you usually cover with clothing make you jolt and goosebumps form on your wet skin.

His bangs tickle your cheek and despite how wet they are, they are soft. His left, tattooed hand finds itself on the side of your stomach and his blunt nails sink into the soft flesh—he grabs at whatever he can get his hands on. It's lowly and desperate and so unbefitting, so uncharacteristic of him—but in this moment, he can hardly find it within himself to care.

The hot sun beams down on you both and it causes your head to grow all hot and fuzzy—Kaiser's natural warm body heat is not helping either. You're feeling so much all at once that your hands unconsciously place themselves on his bare chest in a small attempt to create a sliver of distance between you two. 

It does not work. Your torso leaves no room or gap as you're sunken into his arms—it makes him groan into your mouth and god, you almost feel sick to your stomach when you realise your first thought after hearing it is that you really want him to do it again.

You're not underwater anymore, but you might as well be. Every sense is muffled—the children screaming, the cool, glittery water that surrounds your bodies, even the blackness that clouds your closed-lidded vision—all you can feel is him, his tongue in your mouth and his hands running all over the smoothness of your skin.

Suddenly, you feel your lungs aching, and you realise you need air. You try to pull away—but his face follows yours like he's a mindless dog, and you could've laughed at it if you had not been so stripped of oxygen. You need air and yet he's kissing you like you are his air—it's a fact that makes your cheeks flush red hot.

The only option you can think of is the next action you take—you squeeze your hand out of where he presses your chests impossibly close and entangle them within his damp, blonde locks—tugging backwards and forcing him to leave the slightest amount of space between your mouths, so you can gasp for air.

Your hand tugging at Kaiser's long hair, hard, and you hotly panting into his mouth—he'd rather be caught dead than admit this aloud, but it doesn't feel half bad.

Your eyes crack open slightly, and you have to choke down a laugh when staring at his expression. His face is flushed bright red—compared to his usual pale complexion—and his squinted cerulean eyes are clouded with unmistakable desirable passionate lust.

"Scheiße, hübsches Mädchen." He curses lowly, chest rising and falling erratically as he pulls you in even closer—if that were possible. You can feel every ridge and bump of his hard torso against you and the smirk that pulls across his lips makes your heart pound. "You make my heart race."

When your breathing starts to even, he closes the gap between you both once more, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down—you whine into him and he kisses you softly as some sort of minor apology—you'd never hear the word sorry come out of his lips, after all. His hand dips down to trace up and down your spine, while the other rests below your ass.

He slides his lips away from yours, down your neck and he rests his face in the crook between your neck and shoulders—pressing languid, open-mouthed kisses against the salty skin. His hair falls over his shoulder and trickles into the water like molten honey—it flutters around in the sea and he looks stupidly gorgeous like this.

Now that he's not blocking your vision nor taking over each of your senses, you can see now see the distant figures of your friends all playing together in the sea, including that of Isagi. He's talking together with the others and having fun while you're over here, making out with one of his most hated rivals.

Still, you can't find it within yourself to give it a second thought when his teeth sink into your neck, and his hands tighten around your upper thighs. He lifts his head after you whimper a little and push him back—he follows where your eyes lead and you're sure he also happens to see the head of your dear friend.

The smile that curls across his lips is nothing short of dangerous. "Oh, is that Yoichi? Are you worried about him seeing us?" You do not give him a verbal answer, but the way you look down and the way your lips tremble gives him everything he needs. "How cute. No worries."

He lifts his face and all you can see is him. His hair falls over his shoulder and his bangs tickle your cheek once more. His touch is undeniably soft despite the carnal look he sports in his sharp, angled eyes. "Why don't we give him a show, hübsches Mädchen?"

He whispers so delicately—you do not have the mind to shake your head no, nor do you protest when he slips his tongue between your obediently open lips once more, hands tucked around your hips.

Your heart will not stop pounding. Kaiser smiles at the fact that he is doing this to you. He smiles at the fact you are like mindless putty in his hands, and he smiles at the fact that he can feel bright blue eyes staring holes into him—there's nothing wrong with showing off, right?

© ILIVERAEE 2024

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! AHHH MY HEART 😭 💕 good, good food.

I love how the wife grabbed Miguel's ass lol brought me back to my childhood with my parents when my mother would get upset at my father.

This muggy ass weather stewed up an idea. Miguel and the wife taking the kids to the pool, and she gers jealous because there are more eyes on him than she likes lol

Jealous wife? 👀👀 yes.

-----

Pool day. A little break from everything, school, work and stressful situations. Despite you protesting for not wearing the swimming suits Miguel had gotten you, he finally convinced you to wear his favorite. The white one, that fit a bit too snug on your breast and made your rear to look bigger and bouncier.

All clad underneath a pair of shorts and one of his shirts, a long a hat and sandals, a fanny pack on your side filled with sunblock, hair ties and sunglasses. Miguel wore a pair of swimming trunks with spider prints motifs, sandals, his sun glasses and a deep blue button shirt.

Floaties, towels, extra clothes, snacks and foods were packed in the car, a 2018 Red Ford Escape.

Gabi wore her swimming suit under the shorts and flowery button shirt. Benjamin wore his trunks and a little shirt with a spider logo.

------

Upon arriving, you looked for a spot next to the pool, and unpacked everything. Benjamin was held to your side, Gabriela was helping Miguel to set up the table and the things they would use for later.

The rest was too into their little world that you couldn't help but notice the stares of other women glancing at Miguel, that had just removed his shirt and slid his glasses back ontop of hid head.

"Let's go swim, Papa!"

"Uh uh, wait." You caked some of the sunscreen on her arms, face and every visible part of her body. She ran to the pool.

"Here, lemme." Miguel took Benjamin, and it was like a sight for sore eyes for the women staring. You frowned, and lathered up little Benji with sunscreen. You then moved to Miguel and smooched him a bit deeper you had intended to. Not that he minded.

A woman scoffed and turned her eyes.

------

Your husband was handsome, and of course that the stares and ogglings at his way we're expected. Beefy, handsome, tall and a dilf father. He was playing with Benjamin and one of the floaties, letting his feet to kick on the water, as Gabriela was trying her hand at diving as she remained close. You just watched as you were sat under the umbrella, donning yourself with sunscreen.

The stares turned more shameless, when he submerged himself and slicked his hair back. The same woman that had scoffed, bit her lip at the sight.

The Audacity.

You had enough. You removed your sunglasses and your shorts, sat before him on the pool, your legs soaking.

Miguel approached and placed a kiss on your knees, holding Benjamin's floaty with one hand.

"God, it's awfully hot today."

"Get in, water is nice." His hand was placed on one of your thighs.

"Benji looks so adorable" You mumbled casually as you removed your shirt, Miguel had to do a double take before actually process what was happening. His mouth gaped softly. Good, you had his full attention. He licked his lips and with one hand pulled you effortlessly in the water, earning a triumphant squeal. from you

He kissed you deeply and smirked.

"¿'Tas celosa?" (You jealous?)

"Shut up."

He laughed and squeezed your butt underneath water, making your cheeks flush deeper, the hot weather disguising your embarrassment.

"No les hagas caso. Im yours anyway." (Ignore them.)

[innerfare]

Law’s Type 

Summary: A list of headcanons describing Law's ideal type

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Someone from either the North Blue or a winter island in the Grand Line, someone who likes the cold and is more than content going long periods of time without sunlight. Also, someone who enjoys hot chocolate enough to get it for you both because he really wants to drink it but also doesn’t want to admit that he likes it because he doesn't think it's manly, so if he could claim you forced him to indulge in it, that’d be awesome. Marshmallows are an extra bonus, but he won’t eat them if you call any attention to how much he enjoys them. (I'm imagining Law with his cheeks stuffed full of marshmallows, send help.)  

A nocturnal creature for sure, just like him. Someone who prefers stargazing to cloud watching.

Someone educated, if not in medicine than in another field (this man played it cool but was sweating buckets in the presence of Dr. Nico Robin). Imagining a marine biologist with a rebellious streak joining the Heart Pirates to conduct research in the Grand Line/New World and give the middle finger to the World Government along the way; possibly a devil fruit eater (an algae fruit could be super cool), definitely a source of headaches for Dr. Law. 

The sort of person who says, "yes Captain," or, "of course, Doctor," with a sweet smile only to immediately disobey.

Kind of random but has a low-key thing for women with pretty hands and feet. It’s not a fetish, he just really likes soft hands and dainty feet, especially with well-kept nails (he’s super into blue nail polish, if anyone even cares). Really likes when a girl wears sandals, especially if they have high heels. Also has dreams about a woman slowly removing a glove, tugging it off finger by finger, and placing her bare hand on his cheek. 

More generally, dreams about a woman who's an odd clash of demure and edgy. (Is this about Nico Robin? Hmmm.)

Given that this man is both touch starved and repressed/suffering from severe trust issues, he would need someone who is willing to initiate the lion's share of physical affection, at least in the early stages of the relationship. He wants it so bad but is too scared to ask. When he does initiate, he typically only initiates things you've initiated, matching you. The exception is the first time he caught you by the hand and pressed a warm kiss into your palm; he's such a hand kisser it's unreal.

Would want someone who could cook, not for him but with him. He actually really enjoys planning out what to cook, going to the market and picking out ingredients, and putting it all together. He’s meticulous in his meal planning and wants someone who enjoys doing it with him. Also, someone who can teach him some new recipes. And someone who can make his favorite: onigiri (not the plum kind, though; he hates the plum kind).

Someone who can teach him new things in general. He enjoys learning and is attracted to people who can teach him. And if your passion for that subject shines through while you're teaching it, even better.

Also wants someone who can be sweet, but not in a suffocating sort of way. He really values his independence and would want a person who feels the same. 

Okay, I’m just describing Nico Robin. 

Someone with a slightly morbid sense of humor, someone who doesn’t get squeamish easily. 

And I’m describing Nico Robin again. 

Someone who admires his coin collection and the handful of action figures and comics in his cabin. More specifically, someone who doesn't let him put his own interests down as dumb and/or childish and, in fact, hypes him up, however awkward the positive reinforcement might make him at first. Someone who buys him a new action figure without asking.

Really wants someone who’s neat, organized, and collected, but is also calm like he is, like a very casual type A personality. He isn’t an opposites attract sort of guy, though he’d need someone at least a little more relaxed and open than him or else the entire relationship would probably just be a stalemate. 

It’s not just that he’s not much of a talker, he can get a little overwhelmed by heart-to-hearts, even if you’re the one doing all the talking, so if he met someone who likes to write and receive notes and, God forbid, actual love letters, he’d fall fast and hard. Your relationship initially blooms with the two of you writing notes in the margin of each others' work, which turns into Law drawing cartoons and you leaving dumb little jokes and eventually culminates in love notes.

Also has a thing for pretty handwriting. He probably keeps a box of things you've written because he's so obsessed.

Someone who is friends with Bepo, but more importantly, someone who respects Bepo and doesn’t treat him like a pet (so important!!!). Respect for Bepo might be more important to Law than respect for Law himself.  

He has a low-key competitive streak, and he’d definitely fall for someone who could bring it out. Someone who has a touch of Straw Hat crackhead energy. 

Someone who can be gentle and caring. Someone with a nurturing side. Someone who, weirdly enough, reminds him of Cora. Someone with a strong moral compass despite probably being a pirate.

Finally, someone who is forgiving of his flaws, someone who is patient, someone who is willing to wait for him to open up and get comfortable, someone who doesn’t get annoyed if he spends the week hiding in his office because it’s all a little too much at the moment, someone who doesn’t ask him to put his book down and pay attention (his ideal is you playing with his hair while he reads). Someone who is on his side. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[reversedumbrella]

teruki week 2024: happy birthday teruki

image description:

[ID: a five page comic for teruki week day 7: birthday. the first 3 pages happen inside a clothing shop's dressing room, where teru is trying multiple outfits while out of view mob comments on them. the first two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 1: fire/electricity. on the first fit, teru wears a top with a flame on it and fluffy long sleeves colored orange and yellow. his pants have five sections, each with flame designs. one red, one orange, one green, one blue and one purple. teru is wearing flipflops. mob comments "colorful." on the second fit, teru wears a green long sleeve shirt, a vest made out of fake lightning bolts, pants made out red, blue and black electric cables and boots. mob comments "zappy."

mob sits on a benchon the dressing room, right by him his flip phone is ringing. mob says "those look really good. anything else, Hanazawa". out of viwe teru replies "PLENTY! and with this years birthday money I might be able to take it all home!"

the second two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 2: school/festival. on the first fit teru is wearing a torn version of his school uniform. he smiles while rocking his head back and forth. mob comments "rock n' roll". on the second fit teru wears viana do Castelo's typical women clothing, nowadays just worn for an anual parade. red cloth on his head, large golden earings and necklaces. red shawl over a white shirl. large red apron over a black skirt. white socks and black shoes. mob comments "wow."

the third two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 3: star/copy. on the first fit teru wears a sparkly five point star around his head, star sunglasses, a pink top, jeans with two big sparkly stars over each knee and a lot of small stars all over, pink high heels. he wears bracelets similar to his head apparatus. mob comments "shinny." on the second fit there are two teru's each wearing outfits only differing in color, with only the shorts being the same. a top over a t-shirt over a long-sleeve shirt. shorts over leggings and sneakers. mob comments "maybe the shorts on the left…"

mob is sitting on the dressing room bench. his phone is either still ringing or ringing again. up to interpretation.

the fourth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 4: official art/omake. the first fit comes from official art. purple and blue cap, green jacket over a white shirt with a lemon pattern. red shorts over greyscale camouflage leggings. green and yellow sneakers. none of these colors go well together. mob comments "fun." on the second fit teru is wearing a beach outfit. shirtless with blue beach shorts and green sandals. he has colorful necklaces and bracelets. with his right he's grabbing abucket with a shovel inside. on his head he's balancing a beach ball wearing heart sunglasses. mob comments "careful"

the fifth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 5: hair/trauma. in the first fit teru is wearing a crazy wig that covers his upperbody and arms. it has four ponytails and is covered in braids. it also gives him a large moustache. he's wearing red leggings and green shoes. mob comments "hairy". the second fit is a brocolli and boots. both meet at his calves. his arms are free but his hands have smaller brocolli over them. this is the only fit mob doesn't comment on.

mob is sitting on the bench when teruki grabs him while saying "C'MON". mob replies "huh?!" and teru answers "you didn't really though i was buying just for me?!"

the last outfit was inspired by teruki week day 6: protagonist/rival. mob is the one wearing it. mob's outfit is a clash of colors and patterns. sweater with a star design around the neck. the neck is red, the star is orange and the rest of the sweater is yellow ith green stripes and dots. pink bell bottoms with bright pink stars. teru is showering mob in compliments. he drowns himself in dread thinking "i should have known kageyama-kun would have looked amazing regardless of what he wears. those clothes are too bold even for me but he dawns the clothes i picked with such ease. i have lost again. he is my rival even in fashion sense. there is no way i could have ever won against him…"

the next two apges are the aftermath of the shopping spree. mob and teru laugh and walk with multiple bags, teru carrying two and mob carrying the rest on his arms. happy, teru looks up and then at mob. he says "thank you for getting some time to spend on my birthday with me. i know you have a busy life". mob blushes and turns away saying " no problem. i like spending time with you…" mob phone rings again. teru points at it and says: "there goes your phone again". mob makes all his left arm bag levitate and uses it to open the phone. mob clarifies "just master reigen. there'sa complicated client . he keeps texting in case i need to go there" out of view teru comments "it's nice he calls in advance" to wich mob throws a side-eye. mob looks surprised at his phone, grabs teru and screams "we have to go!!" mob and teru run with the bags floating around them. teru goes up the satirs to reigen's office. out of view mob says "prepare for anything!" teru grabs the door handle and opens the door. inside reigen, serizawa, tome, ritsu and the awakening lab kids scream "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" reigen is holding a cake with 15 candles. end ID]

[kkencess]

AKAZA, feenin.

although it might be obvious, there’s one unspoken rule in a relationship. never admit you find another man attractive around your short-tempered husband.

𖤐 info ─── oneshot written by yours truly… i got this idea out of nowhere, and had to write it all before the dialogue disappeared from my head, lol! it was like three in the morning, but i somehow finished this. as an eighteen year old who just turned eighteen, i recommend reading if you’re sixteen, and up! if you aren’t, don’t mention it please!

𖤐 warnings ─── lowercase intended, female! reader, human! akaza, akaza is your fiancé, mild age gap, explicit content, dirty talk, rough sex [punishment sex?], crying, a lil praising, the one time akaza doesn’t respect women, muahaha! just kidding.

most people shamed others for taking on the role of the housewife, but at least for you; it was easy. in a large mansion like the one you lived in, it was only natural others would assume you had it hard. but in all honesty, you didn't. you didn't have any kids at the moment; so that alone was a bonus. cooking was a breeze since you enjoyed it so much, and cleaning wasn't bad since it hardly ever got untidy.

you lay soundlessly in bed, your eyes glued on the phone screen that rested in your hands. a housewife, and a senior in college. of course, all eyes were on you at all times. others often wondered how you scored a faithful husband at the age of twenty one; and honestly, you didn't have a clue yourself.

akaza wasn't in college, like you. he worked for a private organization; and was twenty-seven himself. you didn't have a problem with the miniature age gap; and slightly found it all the more attractive. don’t get you wrong or anything, men these days just weren't up to par. especially those around your age group, or younger. besides, you doubted you'd ever date someone younger than you.

your cheek is engulfed in your palm, black framed glasses falling from your face as you dive your head against the pillow. your glossy lips ruin your pillow, squinted eyes pulled close. you were all caught up on your assignments, surprisingly. you would graduate from college next month, before attending law school.

man.

the distant sound of keys jangling catches your attention, bringing you to raise your head from the pillow. you glance over towards the door, finding it still closed. whatever, your husband must’ve been home. that was great news, considering you were bored; and needed someone to bother. and a coping mechanism to separate your mind away from the stress of law school, and college overall.

you arise from the bed, sighing softly. just before you completely arised; the door opened, revealing a familiar black haired individual. settling down against the edge of the bed, you’re dressed in a cami tee, and shorts. with narrowed brows, you open your mouth to speak, head tilted. “damn, you were out longer than usual.”

akaza sighs, greeting you with a kiss against your forehead. “muzan requested a meeting.”

you roll your eyes at his typical response. “that man is extremely annoying. i’m sure his employees don’t get paid to take part in sudden meetings.”

the other shrugs, setting his suitcase down against the edge of the bed. the buttons of his suit top remained undone, slightly revealing the outline of his toned chest. of course, he worked out very often; but he looked insane. his body looked, and felt unrealistic. especially his muscles. and it was just perfect for you; deeming he often lounged around the house in nothing but sandals, and shorts. your husband looked fucking amazing.

“somewhat hot, but still annoying.” you finish, darting your eyes elsewhere.

akaza’s attention immediately snaps over to meet your own, blue eyes now settled on you. you’re completely silent, scanning the interior of the room with tapered eyes. your ridiculously pretty face is relaxed, though the last words to leave your mouth were completely out of line. you both knew there wasn’t any honesty behind any of what you just voiced, but the boldness of course; is what usually placed the cherry on the top.

“i’m sorry?” the earthy smell of man's cologne seeped from him dearly, infiltrating your nostrils quickly. the scent mashed well with his body wash. he smelled just as great as he looked. lusciously; you lick at your lips, bringing your eyes back over to meet your lover’s own irritation tainted ones.

“what are you saying sorry for?”

the man rolls his eyes, yet doesn’t settle for any more of your bullshit. maybe on a good day he would’ve fallen for it, but after such a long day at work, he figured it wasn’t necessarily worth the sacrifice. muttering something inaudible beneath his breath, he advances forward into another room; the bathroom.

you whine at the lack of attention, pressing your body up from the mattress to step on to the ground. you felt you had at least a bit of the right to be annoying. you hadn’t seen him in a little over twelve hours. those shifts were dangerous; especially to the wife of the man taking them. man, everytime you’d capture a glance at his boss, you’d send him a filthy glare. if there was anyone you truly hated in this world, you’d bet your ass it was fucking muzan, kibutsuji.

“well, that wasn’t fun.”

for what little of the day you had left, you spent your time preparing dinner. akaza hadn’t gotten out of the shower yet; but he always took long; so to you, it wasn’t anything out of character. you figured a breakfast styled dinner wouldn’t hurt. It was a fun choice as well, considering you were craving it these past few days. your husband was never too picky about dinner choices, so he should be fine with the option you settled for.

dinner was silent for the most part. you watched your lover, whilst spooning a mouth full of grits in between your lips.

“are you ignoring me?” you question, breaking the everlasting silence. you’re seated directly across from him, utensils aligned against the transparent glass table. you’re eyeing him shamelessly, cheek pressed against your palm. well, unfortunately for him; the silent treatment only worked in movies.

“it’s about the muzan comment, isn’t it?”

you hoist your legs up to meet akaza’s thigh, letting the anatomy settle hotly against his skin. you’re not completely facing his direction, but your body is angled to meet his. you’re still shoveling pieces of food into your mouth, chowing down on a sausage as you prepare your next bite. you adored how you looked around him, but never when you were eating. it’s not like you ate like a pig or anything, you were just comfortable enough to eat as you would alone.

“i don’t like being ignored, y’know.”

akaza would always answer you. and being who he was (your husband) of course, he knew you well. probably better than you did yourself. so of course, he was wary of the fact that you were a bitch for his attention. sometimes, he’d purposely pretend he couldn’t hear you just to stimulate some sort of reaction out of you. and every single time; it worked. miraculously, but it did.

“i’m aware, [name.]” his tone was stern; low and captivating. you have to press your legs close at the raw sound of it, an array of tingles pulsing through you like a shooting star. your legs dangle off of his own, your chair now pulled a bit closer to his own. the platform of your slippers pressed against the hem of his seating.

“you’re so pretty when you’re upset, babe.” though you were the one who spouted the compliment, your cheeks don’t of course fail to heat up. your tone is quite teasing as well, a playful smile grasping your lips.

“i'm not upset.” he clarifies, eyeing you momentarily. “you’d be a lot more attractive yourself if you stopped making jokes like that about my boss. it’s disrespectful.”

“huh, your boss?” you question, perking a brow. “what’s gonna happen if i don’t?” a smile slowly grasps your lips, eyes darting over to match a gorgeous blue pair.

you weren’t any idiot, of course. you knew he secretly enjoyed it when you talked back; because in a way, it riled him up even more. to fuck you into complete submission, that was. you could simply tell by the way his fingers grasped your ankle tonight would be worth its while.

your back hits the bed’s cushion quite roughly, though the hand grasped around your neck never detached itself from the stated anatomy. you’re pulled into a rough kiss, a soft groan emitted at the rather brutal force; though you were accustomed to it. the male kissed hotly against your lips, savoring every wince emitted, and the shudders performed. you’re pinned down against the cushion, either of your hands pulled against one another; as they’re pinned above your head; near the neatly stacked pillows nearby.

the spaghetti strap tee you wore was hauled up just a bit, revealing your pierced belly. hell, the lounge shorts you wore had ridden up to your mid thigh. a hand of his is free, to lap at the slick coating your thighs; your legs pulling apart to help give him a little more access to what should’ve been his most desirable target.

“you’re always so quiet when we finally go at it.” he started against your lips, where he kissed softly. a finger of his pressed against your clothed clit, earning a slight jolt from you.

you press your eyes shut as his fingers ride against your soaked parts; shutters emitted. he’s quick with his actions; the stated anatomy dipping past your soaked underwear and nearly into you; residing just near your entrance while he teased your clit with his available fingers.

you have to strain a gasp as he loses your lips; mouth now against your neck where he sucked, and bit. nonetheless he’s an expert. you were so fucking soaked and he had only kissed you. nothing else. maybe him being a man of his words played an odd part in it, but for now, you’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

“god, you’re soaking wet, baby. i’m gonna stuff you so fucking well.” cooed the older male, voice as silky as ever. his words alone were enough to increase the amount of pre-cum that currently seeped through your underwear, a shudder animated as you gasped into your palm, when he sunk a finger into you. not just one finger, but two. and his pace started unforgivingly.

he was already plunging his fingers into you with undeniable speed. you could feel the eagerness, your body jolting beneath his own. akaza stared you down mercilessly, lapping at his own lips with the soft pink flesh of his tongue. your fingers grasped desperately at his wrist as his digits pushed through, flush against your walls. you moan out in pleasure, the slight pain pushed quickly aside as you wriggled in his touch. “f—fuck!” you cursed, fingers caressing akaza’s tight muscles. they felt so fucking nice. he worked out often and it showed physically, thankfully.

“gonna come from just my fingers?” he questioned, shoving another one in without restraint. “shit, you are, aren’t you? you aren’t embarrassed?” your face was hot, flustered in mortification, as he confirmed. his words were rather teasing; although his voice remained silky. rather smooth, even. he worked his fingers like a damn god. he knew just what to do to keep you doused in pleasure, while simultaneously making sure it didn’t send you over the edge. it was clear he knew your body better than you did.

“t—to m-much!” you exasperated. it should’ve been criminal. the way your back arched from the bed as he worked his fingers delightfully. he chuckled coldly at your remark, head lowering; before he leveled himself out of your sight, and beneath your trembling thighs. he tore at your lace undergarments with ease, allowing them to fall against the bed’s soft cushion.

“is it?” he seethed, lapping at your pretty, now exposed pussy. your clit glistened with your own produce, spilling against the velvet colored sheets. akaza wasted no time, settling his tongue against the anatomy, circling it just perfectly. his fingers still plunged into you with brute force, his free hand clasped around your thigh harshly, where he gripped to make sure you didn’t escape his grasp.

“my god…” the only thing you could do was take in the pleasure, moaning as your hand pulled down to grasp at his hair. the grip he had on your thigh tightened, earning a wince of pain from you; though the overall pleasure you received from both his fingers, and mouth overthrew whatever pain you previously suffered. you were so fucking close, closer than ever. “akaza— shit. that feels amazing… don’t stop.”

you were positive he would let you cum. at least now. rapid blinks blinded you, your mouth pulled apart as lengthy moans made way. the knot in your stomach had only slightly undone itself; disappointment quickly washed over you when not one, but all of whatever pleasure you had been feeling before completely vanished.

“b-babe?” there wasn’t much time to react; your body quickly being pushed over. you were now laid flat against your stomach, body pressed into the cushion. your face was hot in embarrassment, mind scrambled. you didn’t know what to say. you could hear the male above you chuckle, his hands settled against torso; where his fingers grasped harshly at. you twitch in his caress, the warmth of his breath evident against your neck since he had resided so close to you.

it was quite thick, and heavy— only for what it was, that is. you guess you couldn’t be too mad, since things weren’t looking so bad for you. it was a shame you couldn’t see it, though. it looked pretty. and trust you, you weren’t at all exaggerating. a pretty pink tip, and gorgeous smooth skin following it. it had a perfect arch, one that could easily strike you in all of the right places. you got lightheaded thinking about it, swallowing hard as you await his actions.

“shit, m’gonna fuck you so hard… give you just what you wanted.” he says, either of his palms engulfing your ass. he spread you apart with ease, spatting out a thick wad of saliva against your entrance, that’d be his substitution for lube. you could only whine beneath him, as you mentally prepared yourself for the next few moments.

“you’re lucky i even gave you that much,” he spouts, cock pushing into your entrance. you have to bite into the sheets, limbs weakening as he pushes further, and further into you. with each push came deep breathy grunts, from akaza himself. he only stopped when his hips were locked against your ass, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist. you gasp out in pain, the lack of proper lube making it all the worse for you. not only that, did you even finger prep properly? he should’ve let you come, before.

“shit. you’re so tight, baby. so tight.” he started roughly, plunging in and out of you with an indescribable force. he was reckless, fucking into you with his own neediness. the tears that spiked your vision fell, staining the bed’s sheets. his grunts of pleasure only satisfies you, making you hot all over. he practically tore his way inside of you, yes— but of course, it always felt amazing soon after.

the pleasure gradually builds, moans spilling from your mouth as he delved even deeper into you, striking you in all the right spaces. there’s hardly any pain involved now; only strained moans and whimpers. you crumble beneath him, head hanging against the pillows— hurried, heavy pants occupying your eardrums. akaza couldn’t see your expression, and to be quite honest he was dying to— all he needed was a proper glance at your fucked out face.

so, he settles against the edge of the matress, only detaching himself from you for a second. in the next instant you're resting in his lap, his cock sinking into you without warning. this angle was even better than the last, though the part where he entered always hurt like a bitch. his free hand engulfed your chin, forcing it down so that your gaze matched your own. your eyes were hazy, eyelids hanging low— making it so that you could hardly even see. speckles of stars spiked your vision, vanishing once your eyes finally fell close.

“you’re a mess, sweetheart.” akaza says, tone low and sweet. saliva grazes your lips, hands weakly wrapping around akaza’s shoulders. you couldn’t say a thing— your body wouldn’t allow you to. no, your brain wouldn’t. all you could do was shut up and take whatever he had to offer, like how he knew you would. of course, akaza always got the last laugh. you started things off, but he’d finish them in an unbelievable way.

“shit, you’re making me feel so good. so good, baby.” he protests, a smile engulfing the lips of his pretty face as he takes either of your ankles in his hand, pulling them apart so that they are fully wrapped around his waist, ensuring that you took every inch of him. there wasn’t any running away in this position, and to be quite frank you weren’t upset with the lack of options.

“akaza…” you mutter, with what little strength you had. “m’gonna come…”

the male eyes the hardly evident bulge tracing your stomach, eyes soon tracing further up. he presses a kiss against the exposed skin of your chest, legs trembling as he nears his orgasm. his pace became desperate as he fucked rapidly into you, practically drilling you dry. your head is resting into his shoulder, hanging between the juncture of both his chin, and collarbone. your ass bounces against his cock, the wet sounds audible. dribbling past your lips was drool, that slid down akaza’s back, dipping into the curves of his muscles. you were far too weak to scratch at him, so for now all you could do was take it.

you wanted to speak up, in the least bit do something. it was hard hearing you anyways, when akaza moaned so desperately in your ear, whispering about how good you were; and how well you took him. he pressed a kiss between your chest, blue eyes tracing up your figure. his fingers grasped you roughly, in fact you were sure it would leave some kind of mark.

just another pump was enough to send him over the edge, specks of white shooting into you; not even a drop trickling down your thighs. it doesn’t take long for you to come after him, your mind going completely numb as you clang on desperately to his body. all you could hear were akaza’s strained breaths that seemed to never end. you didn’t know what to say, or do either. nonetheless, you couldn’t stay like this forever.

finally akaza catches himself, catching your chin in between his index finger, and thumb. there’s a slight upturn of his lips, pretty blue eyes eating at you disastrously.

“one more time.”

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Raw 9/4/23

Chelsea is wearing the River Blue Flower Corset Top ($34) & River Blue Satin Mini Skirt ($24) from Finesse with the Noon Platform Barely There Heeled Sandals in Silver from ASOS Design ($44)

[bandaidrights]

My rant on fem ratiorine bc I love women

Individual hcs first

Ratio:

- About shoulder length curly hair, it's usually thrown into a bun because she's a tired teacher and is usually too tired to do a full curl routine

- same height as cannon ratio and same amount of muscles (why do ppl not draw her muscles 😔)

- heavy chested, her back always is in some sort of pain, her baths usually help relieve it tho

- boob window

-greek nose

- her cannon outfit is the same, but she sometimes wears a white or dark blue skirt, just depends on how she's feeling

- her sandals have a slight heel, she's already tall so she doesn't really need to make herself taller, it's just for fashion

- her bust is the same as cannon ratios, nothings changed about that

- rarely does makeup, maybe a light lipstick if she's feeling it, she's just naturally beautiful

Aventurine:

- about mid back length straight hair, she tries to curl it and put products to make it look good

- same height as cannon aven

- keeps things in her bra, lipstick, credit cards, wtv

- mostly cannon outfit but wears a white skirt most of the time, sometimes, she'll wear loose white business pants

- heels, always wearing heels, they have lil spades on the heel

- always has her nails done

- always wears makeup

Now them tg hcs

- aven insists on doing a curl routine for ratio, she honestly loves doing ratios hair, it's comforting to just do her partners hair in comfortable silence

- their first date, ratio did her hair and makeup and dressed up more then usual because they were going somewhere nice (avens choice). Aventurine noticed immediately and eas just "did you get all prettied up for me, dear doctor?" With just a smile, ratio nodded and js grabbed avens hand

- aven does ratios nails, nothing fancy, she just paints her finger and toe nails whatever color ratio pics, usually blue. Aven is usually ranting about whatever happened during the day while doing her nails, and ratio is carefully listening

- ratio is a human heater, she runs hot, aven is always cold, during the night, ratio has no blankets on, aven is buried in them but also snuggling up to ratio for more warmth

- aven does ratios lipstick some mornings, sometimes she messes It up on purpose with a kiss

- ratio always carries around a hair tye for aven, she sometimes wants to put her hair up and doesn't have anything, ratio already knows what she's asking for and just holds it up

-------

Thank u for reading, feel free to add any if u have some :3 I love love love ratiorine

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

For mermay: how about merman! Joseph where Y/N finds him on the beach at low tide and when he sees them he freaks out and tries to go NIGERUNDAYOOOO but he's on land and he's just flopping around 😂

Absolutely! That's hilarious, you didn't specify whether you wanted yandere or non-yandere, so I made it ambiguous. Enjoy my beautiful mermay enjoyer (you also can be handsome if you want cutie!)❤️

Beached

Joseph was often told that his attention seeking behavior would cause him trouble one day. His elders often scolded him for causing currents in the city, startling fish, and wandering too close to the surface. He'd always laugh at them and quip back something clever that made them angrier. Now he realized they might have been right.

It was a simple bet really; Cesear and he were swimming around causing mischief when the topic of the surface came up. "I bet they've got some pretty hot babes on the surface. Ones with two tails instead of one." Joseph sighed dreamily, causing Cesear to scoff. "The women of the land can't compete with the women of the sea." Typical Cesear, so close minded. A smirk appeared on Joseph's face as a "brilliant" idea came to mind. "Oh Cesear, I think that I can find someone more beautiful than all the merfolk in the sea just by the beach." Cesear's kelp green eyes narrowed. "Your next words are 'You bastardo Joseph, you've got yourself a deal!'" Cesear fell for Joseph's ploy. "You bastardo Joseph, you've got yourself a deal!" Joseph shit eating grin was met with shock and anger from the other merman. "You smug sea devil, get back here!" Joseph giggled to himself as he swam from his friend.

Things were going good for Joseph no merfolk noticed Joseph and Cesear sneak towards the surface. Cesear still kept his underwater, like the bloody coward he is. No matter all Joseph has got to do is scope out the land for some hot babes! Swimming closer and ducking his head underwater when he thought someone might be coming, he eagerly spied on the beach to find... NO ONE?! What gives? It was a beautiful morning, sun rising steadily into the sky water at low tide. Low tide... "OH NO!"

You had just woken up and stretched a bit, this was a great place to vacation during the summer. Beautiful town, friendly people, and the sea. White sand for miles around and clear blue ocean water. You love the Mediterranean! Donning a swim shirt and swim trunks and covering that with a light beach cover up, you slipped on your sandals. You rode your bike through the small town that was peacefully asleep, it was pretty early in the morning. Perfect time to have the beach all to yourself. You were ready for another day of tanning, relaxing, and summer fun. You hop off your bike and walk over to the beach humming a tune that was stuck in your head. (Fav song) gets better each time you hear it. Your peace was ruined by someone screaming, oh my god is that person okay? Running to the source of the noise you found a handsome man. He had a mop of wild brown hair and eyes the color of sea glass. He was tall, tan, and muscular and had no legs. Instead, there was a beautiful green fish tail. The man Stopped his loud yelling and violently slapping his tail to look at you. The merman precedes to flop even harder.

Joseph was stuck and while he was an intelligent bastard he also was a cocky one. He wasn't paying attention to the tides and now was flopping around like a fish out of water. Well, he was one but that was beside the point. "Cesear, move your big tail and help me!" The man was met with bubbles. Oh, so that's how that is, Cesear was laughing at his misfortunes. Fake friend! Joseph was too busy cursing the blond traitor that he didn't notice a pair of footsteps quickly approaching him. A light gasp caused his head to snap over to the creator of the noise. A person who was (short/medium/tall) and had (h/l) (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. They were wearing baggy cloth that hid their curves from his curious gaze. He found a two tail... a hot two tail! Crap a two tail! Joseph begins flopping harder than before he needed to get out of here. He heard the two tail speak in a language he could not understand as it franticly approached him. Hell no!

Wack! the powerful green tail smacked you straight in the gut, throwing you onto some sharp seashells thoroughly knocking the wind out of you. You were trying to help but this merman just gut punched you with his tail. He frantically made clicking and chattering noises to something in the water you could not see. Another merperson? That didn't matter right now, what did was getting the merman back into the ocean before other people came. The merman looked to be made of pure muscle so there was no picking him up and approaching him from behind would get you smacked again. Maybe you could get some water over to where you are. You crept around the merman and threw your hands up in a sign of nonaggression towards the frightened brunet. the ocean was further than you thought and you didn't have a bucket to pour water on him. Frustrated you sank your feet into the wet sand causing water to fill in the hole you made in the sand. Bingo!

Joseph was confused as to why the two tail was digging a hole at this time. Is that what two tails do when stressed? He'd have to ask Speedwagon but right now he continued to observe the two tail and keep them a tail length away. Continuing to watch he saw water slowly filling the hole they made as the dug up to where Joseph would be making some sloppy aqueduct. Who knew two tails could be smart? Joseph met the desperate (e/c) that held no malice towards him. He was good at reading people and knew the land dweller was no danger to him and was even trying to help. Joseph began slowly inching towards them and the small saltwater river they were making, their hands looked tired, but they didn't stop, even as sweat began to form on their brow. Joseph felt his heart began beating faster not out of fear but something else. They didn't have to help them and yet they were trying, more than some merfolk ever did for him.

You heard a squeak and a splash coming from behind you the merman enters the watery area you made for him and was pushing you with him towards the ocean. You both landed with a plop in the warm waters of the Mediterranean, salt stinging your eyes as you had not been prepared to go swimming right now. Surfacing you gasped for air as you searched for the merman, only to see the green merman circling you like a shark. Did you just put yourself in danger? Plop the merman's head surfaced from the water a cheeky grin on his face. Face only centimeters from your own, he looked like he was going to kiss you. You blushed as you found him handsome but wasn't expecting this, squeezing your eyes shut and turning you head away from him. Nothing. You opened your eyes to look at the merman who looked at you with lips puckered and squirted salt water into your face. Gross! The mermaid disappeared before you could even yell at him for not only scaring the crap out of you but getting salt water in your mouth. You couldn't help but laugh though as the merman was very playful and you didn't mind the water. That was until you saw your shoes floating away from you.

Joseph swam down to a smirking blond with a big goofy grin on his face. "Well Joseph, did you see a land babe?" Cesear mocked him but Joseph was in too good of a mood to pout. He was so close to you, he could have kissed you! However, kissing was sacred in mermaid culture only to be done with mates. He blushed at the thought of you being his mate. You could swim with him, he could introduce you to Cesear, and he could show you his home! His giddy thoughts were interrupted by the sour taste that came to his mouth when he thought of introducing you to Cesear or any other merfolk. He didn't want to do that, you were too precious for them. With that decided he planned hen he would meet his own little two leg again with Cesear chasing after him.

Sorry if it sucks, I kinda rushed towards the end because I didn't know if you wanted yandere or not, so this was more fluffy. Please feel free to request more this mermay.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Let me breathe for you (part 1)

Merman!Shanks x reader. This is part one of two.

*****

Walks along the waterfront have always had the power to soothe you, distract your thoughts from any worry or reason for sadness, and put you in a better frame of mind; it is, fortunately, an activity you can indulge in every time you want, since you were born in a coastal town, and your house is just a few minutes away from a quiet, secluded beach you visit regularly. 

Today is one of those occasions. You don’t feel particularly sad or preoccupied, but you have just finished sewing a dress -an important project that had kept you busy for weeks, and that the client who had commissioned it had paid quite a sum for- and you decided that a nice walk was in order, to stretch your legs and enjoy some time outside rather than in your tiny workshop at home. 

A gentle wind plays with your hair as you fill your lungs with the salty air -a smell that you have always found comforting, for some reason you cannot explain- and walk leisurely along the shoreline, the orderly line of your footsteps on the moist sand following you. The laces of your sandals hang from your fingers; for years you had left your shoes next to a large rock, since it is more pleasant to feel the warm sand under your feet, but after a pair were stolen, no doubt by some kids who had nothing better to do than to play stupid planks, you decided it was safer to carry them with you. Today the sun is shining for the first time after a week of almost constant rain; you lift your eyes to the reassuringly cloud-free sky above your head and smile, aware that soon the coming of winter will force you to cut your walks short and for this reason determined to enjoy your outing today. 

The beach is almost a mile away from the busiest part of the town, and the roar of the waves crashing on the shore is the only sound reaching your ears; the beach is empty around you, as you imagined it would be since you have very seldom encountered other people during your walks over the years, and while you’re usually a pretty social person, and enjoy spending time with your older sister and your friends, you equally appreciate moments like this… when, excused from having to make small talk or listen to the discourses of whoever is next to you, you are free to focus on your thoughts, reflect, mentally prepare for the tasks for the day… and dream, even. Dream things you almost feel guilty for, and that you often quickly chide yourself for…

Today is one of those days. You stop in your tracks to pick up a seashell to add to your collection -it is of a pretty red colour. One day, you reflect, you should use shells as decorations for a dress, in the place of beads or frills; you could start a new trend, and gather supplies to use in your workshop during your walks- and then look in the direction the small creature that once inhabited it must have come from. The blue immensity in front of you is breath-taking as usual, even now that only gentle waves break its still surface; you are a more than able swimmer, who fortunately never risked drowning or other accidents, and you know that the sea is a source of food and livelihood for many of the town’s citizens, but no matter how much you enjoy the quiet, private hours you spend on the beach, there are moments you can’t help hating, even resenting it, like you would do with a man who had disrespected you or a friend who had broken your trust. It is absurd -the sea is after all not a person, it doesn’t have thoughts and emotions and cannot be held responsible for its actions the way all men and women of age are- and you have often reprimanded yourself for that useless bitterness, but you can’t help it. The sea has stolen someone you once loved away from you, and you’ll never forget it -or him- for that.

So many years have passed, and you still remember the pain breaking your heart as you observed his ship disappearing over the horizon, pushed along by deceptively gentle waves, as one of your hands held your sister’s and the other waved, even though you knew he couldn’t see you anymore. You don’t remember whether you hugged him before he left, kissed him, told him how much you loved and would miss him; you probably did, because you always did, every time he left, and you sincerely hope you hadn’t forgotten that time, the last you ever could…

It is a good thing the beach is empty, because you have always hated to be seen as you cry, even though it is just a few tears you can -and do- quickly dry with your fingers. You sigh, reminding yourself this walk was supposed to be a reward for your hard work, and that today is in any case too nice a day to waste it with regret and sad memories; you will find a few more shells, you decide trying to distract yourself, for your little nephews at home to play with, and as you return home you will stop at the tea room and treat yourself to a warm drink. Yes, that would be an excellent way to conclude your day…

You are already feeling a bit better as you start on the way back, when suddenly something in the distance catches your eye, something peculiar and unexpected enough it compels you to quicken your pace to reach it. At first you could think it is a piece of wood, pushed on the beach by the tide and covered by algae and other aquatic waste, or the body of an unfortunate animal, victim of an accident or the cruelty of men; but there are no bright red algae, as far as you know, and dogs and cats don’t have long, glabrous limbs, stretched forward as if in a desperate request for help…

It is a man, you realise, the scene in front of your wide open eyes unexpected but too clear to be misunderstood, a soaking wet, completely still man, lying on his belly with the lower half of his body still immersed in water, as if his strength failed before he could fully pull himself ashore. He is naked, for what you can see, probably the victim of a shipwreck, even though more than a month must have passed since the last serious storm, or another accident at sea, who has been able to reach the island’s shores swimming desperately to save himself… or perhaps it is the tide that has pushed his body there, after stealing his breath and life?

There is only one way to know, and you waste no time in covering the short distance that separates you from the man as quickly as you can, before falling to your knees by his side. You observe him for a moment as you leave your bag and sandals on the sand next to you, your eyes lingering on the bright red of his water-soaked hair before noticing that the man is missing an arm - not because of whatever misfortune led him to your shores, you decide, since he is not bleeding and even your untrained eye can see his is an old wound. This poor man must be unable to swim; he must have drowned, you realise, after having fallen, or been pushed, from whatever vessel he was sailing on…

Realising you should check whether he is actually dead or you can still do something to help him, before wasting time speculating, you hurry to shake him by the shoulder, gently at first and then more forcefully. “Sir, are you alright? Can you hear me?” you ask; you can’t be fully sure he speaks your language, but he will answer in any case, won’t he? “Please… please don’t be dead…”

No answer whatsoever, not even a movement or a grimace of pain; you feel your heart in your throat as you pass his arm around your shoulders and gently push him on his back to check his heartbeat, which allows you to give a good look at who you still consider the victim of a tragic, but relatively normal, shipwreck. The man doesn’t look much older than you, andis almost certainly not a native of the island; he has hair of a beautiful, flame-bright red, the agile but strong body of a man used to physical effort… and a large, nasty wound on his left side, a span under his armpit. 

You observe it carefully, deeply shaken but able to keep the horror at bay as you try to figure out if there is still something you can do to help this man. You have never seen anything like this wound; it looks like he was bitten, by something very large, which is not particularly surprising given the fact the man was in the water; but even if he were attacked by a shark or another predator, how could he survive, since his impairment makes it impossible for him to swim? Was he attacked before he fell, or jumped, in the water?  

You don’t need any knowledge of medicine (which you completely lack, unless being the sister in law of a capable nurse counts for something) to decide whether a person is alive or dead, so you quickly press your ear against the man’s torso, and sigh relieved in hearing his heartbeat, just a little fainter than it would be normal. He is just unconscious, and, you decide, you will try once more to revive him before going to ask for help in any case; you will find someone strong enough to carry him, and soon the man will be well-cared for at the town’s clinic. “Sir, can you hear me? Please, wake up…”

Finally, he does answer - even if not properly in words. “Aahh…” he moans, clearly in pain; with an evident effort, the man finally opens his eyes, brown irises meeting yours. 

“Hello.” you greet him, but judging from his reaction you may as well have threatened his life, because the man, startled, suddenly panics; he cries something unintelligible and waves his arm, clearly trying to keep you away. Instinctively you grab his wrist, trying to hold him still to avoid worsening his wound. “Calm down!”

“No, no…! Let me go…”

He does speak your language, you are relieved to learn. “It’s alright, sir. I am a friend; I don’t want to hurt you, but please, you need to calm down, you are wounded…”

And then something appears, moves, in your peripheral vision, and you, in turn, freeze.

You had paid no mind to the man’s lower half, still submerged, focused as you were on his wound and on making sure he could still be helped, but now, as he struggled, you have seen something pop out of the water for a moment… something that looked nothing like a leg, or a foot. 

Incredulous -you must be mistaken, that’s the only logical explanation, and after all you barely saw it, for half a second and not very clearly- you force yourself to look back at the man, tense and worried, who clearly wishes he could escape and put an end to your acquaintance. “You are safe.” you try to reassure him, letting his arm go and opening your own hands to prove you are unarmed “I don’t want to hurt you, but you are wounded…”

The man lowers his gaze to the nasty gash at his side and blinks, as if he hadn’t realised he had been wounded until now - or surprised he’s still alive. He looks back at you, still tense as he tries to ascertain whether you are worthy of trust or pose a danger to him, and suddenly stumbles, too weak even to prop himself up on one elbow. “You need to leave.” he tells you, more desperate than forceful… a plea, not an order “And tell no one you have seen me. Please, I am fine…”

“You couldn’t be less fine if you tried!” you exclaim, exasperated; why is he refusing your help, given the clear state of distress he is in? Doesn’t he realise that if left to his own devices he could die before the end of the day? “You are wounded, I can’t leave you…” 

And then the man faints again, his head hitting the sand. Frustrated, you sigh and decide that the first thing to do, before leaving to look for help, is pulling him out of the water, hoping he’s not too heavy for you; this unfortunate, stubborn man is already soaking wet, the last thing you want is for him to catch pneumonia. So you lift yourself up and, circling his shoulders with your arm once more, you prepare to drag him towards the beach… and a moment later you are forced to stop, but not out of tiredness.

You were right.

The stranger who stumbled on your favourite beach, God only knows how, is a normal man from the waist up, but further down… he isn’t, at all. 

He is a fish. He has a tail - a long, strong tail covered in blue-green scales, shiny under the late afternoon sun, a single limb roughly as wide as the legs of a man of his size pressed together; his caudal fin, split in the middle, is of a paler blue, the same colour as the gentle waves in front of you, semi-transparent. 

You know what he is, of course; you had never seen one, you had never imagined you ever would, given those like him are supposed to be the stuff of the legends sailors tell and artists reproduce on maritime paintings, but you still remember the stories your mother told you and your sister when you were younger, and that you still believed in your innocence to be true; stories of a mysterious, dangerous and still playful kin, whose songs could unleash storms and who lived in great cities in the depth of the sea… 

“A mermaid.” you whisper, breathless; you don’t even notice you are speaking out loud, so stunned you are “He is a mermaid.”

You feel the urge to touch him - which would be improper, probably, but would confirm what part of you still can’t come to terms with, even though he is right there, unconscious but clearly alive and real, and suddenly you have so many questions. Where does he come from? Who, or what, attacked him? Is he the last of his kind or, more likely, he is part of a more or less numerous species, whose existence is unknown to yours? How come he speaks your language? 

What you know for sure, for some difficult to explain reason, is that you need to hide him; this man needs help, and you are the only one who can protect him, taking care of his wound and making sure no one learns of his presence. You have no reason to feel protective of him, but you do, and while you can’t very well carry him home and ask your sister and brother in law to keep him there hidden, you don’t want the town’s sailors to sell him to the highest bidder, or to cut him in pieces to create some miraculous potions, since according to some legends an elixir made with a mermaid’s blood or flesh can cure any illness or even make a person immortal.

(Children’s tales, of course. Or are they?)

Fortunately you are just a few steps away from a small grotto, at the very end of the beach, its entrance covered by bushes; it is hard to find it unless one knows where to look, which makes it the perfect hiding spot for your new friend. Aware that the quicker you get him away from the beach, the safer he will be, you pass his arm around your shoulders and begin dragging him towards the grotto, the short distance nonetheless requiring several minutes of intense work, the mermaid’s body way too heavy for you. In the end, breathless and aching for the effort, you help him lie down on the ground, the domed ceiling above your heads, and observe your new ward, still unbelieving but suddenly preoccupied for his future. Everybody knows most sea creatures cannot survive long on land; what if your desire to keep him hidden ends up further weakening this already debilitated man, or even killing him? Perhaps, besides taking care of his wound, you should keep his body wet, or at least his tail…

Moan.

You cup his face with your hand. “Can you hear me?” you ask, spontaneously dropping the sir and assuming a more informal tone, as if the two of you had known each other for years; as if you were friends “You’re wounded, but now you’re safe, it’s going to be alright.”

“Hmm…”

“Can you open your eyes?”

He struggles for a while, and in the end brown irises meet yours once more. “What… what happened to me?” he murmurs, still clearly dazed; he speaks your language fluently, even though his accent is different from any you have ever heard.

“I found you on the beach, unconscious; you have been bitten… by something.” you explain, and the mermaid again spends a few seconds contemplating the wound on his side, that must hurt terribly; judging by his expression, he understands the gravity of his situation all too well, as well as the fact he’s lucky to be alive “It’s going to be alright. I’ll go find someone…” 

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no? You are wounded. If we don’t take care of it, you could die.”

Your new friend shakes his head stubbornly. As he looks at you he seems… not exactly afraid, but somehow reticent; he doesn’t know whether he can trust you, even though he has realised he does need your help and he will probably not survive on his own “No one… no human can see me. No one can know I’m here.”

“But I know. I have seen you.”

“And you’re already one person too many. Please, you need to go; I’ll… manage.”

You softly point out that, wounded and clearly debilitated as he is, he simply can’t manage, especially if someone from the nearby town sees him or whatever bit him is still waiting in the water to finish the job. His wound could get infected, but if you go call your brother in law, a capable nurse who will surely understand the need to keep the identity of his patient secret…

And then, as you are still trying to convince him, you both hear the voices of men arguing, and then a dog barking; they’re still far away, perhaps midway along the beach, but quickly approaching. The mermaid’s sun-kissed skin seems to pale all at once; you hear him swear under his breath. “They found me…”

“Who?” you inquire.

“Fishermen; from your town, perhaps, I don’t know. They saw me swim towards the shore, and they followed me. I thought I had lost them, but I was wrong…”

The men’s voices grow clearer by the moment; you hear one of them ask his friends where has that blasted creature gone. They might not notice the grotto, but if they do they’ll find the mermaid in less than a minute, and you doubt you’ll be able to defend him. 

You have only a moment to reflect on what to do; fortunately, it is more than enough. “I’ll take care of them.” you announce as you stand, your skirt and legs covered in sand.  

“... what?”

“You just stay here and don’t make a sound.” you order, and your new friend, still uncertain -and how could he feel otherwise, poor soul? Completely alone, his life in danger, forced to rely on the help of a person he has no reason to trust- has the good sense to obey.

You quickly leave the grotto, retrieve the bag and shoes you had abandoned on the sand and put as good a distance as you can from the hiding spot of your new friend; you can feel your heart pounding, but at the same time you are perfectly calm, clear-headed and ready to do whatever you can to help him. A few seconds later, a group of five men, armed with knives and nets, runs into you; one of them is holding a large dog, barking madly, by his collar.

“Hello, gentlemen.” you greet them in your most innocent tone; you have quickly picked up a few shells, in case you are asked what you are doing on the beach, but the men don’t seem to care about your favourite past-times. 

“You’ve seen a fish-man?” the one at the head of the small group brusquely asks you.

“Excuse me?”

“A man with a fish-tail! Have you seen him, girl?”

You decide to risk it. “Oh, yes!” you exclaim, trying to remember everything you learnt during the acting classes you attended when you were eleven - all three of them “I think I did, actually! Near the promontory.”

The place you have mentioned to make the men leave is quite far from the beach - so far, in fact, that they pause, unsure if their prey could have actually swum all the way over there in the short time since they last saw him. “Are you really sure?” the dog’s handler asks, raising his voice to make himself heard over the excited barking; you wonder whether the animal, a tracker dog, can smell your new friend’s scent.

“I am, sir. His tail was green and blue, and I saw him swimming just under the promontory as I walked here. I think he was wounded.”

Confirming the existence of the mermaid, when the men had perhaps only barely seen him and could therefore be convinced they had made a blunder and to abandon their search, is perhaps risky, but the details you added convince them of the veracity of your story.

“Let’s go get him, boys!” the group leader exclaims “I bet we can sell him for a million berries and even more!”

They depart in a run, the dog still barking, without even looking at you. You wait for them to have disappeared, shove the seashells in your bag, and return to the grotto, where the mermaid is waiting for you. “Everything is fine; they left.” you inform him as you kneel by his side once more.

“Are you sure?”

“I told them I saw you, but now they are looking for you in a place a mile away. I hope I did the right thing.”  

For the first time, the mermaid seems to relax -marginally, given he’s still in danger, but that’s already something; he smiles at you, openly grateful. “That was good thinking. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You can’t stop looking at him, by now aware you are not dreaming and he actually is a mermaid, but still unable to fully come to terms with the simple truth of his existence. The creature in front of you is the stuff of legends, or of children's stories, but you can see him, and touch him, and talk to him. He is real, and that changes the meaning of the world as you know it…

“Maybe I should… pour some water on you?” you ask in the end, realising you have been openly staring for a while, something that being in his place you would find discourteous.

“Whatever for?”

“Maybe… I don’t know. Fish die if left out of the water for too long, I thought… since you’re half-fish… it could be the same for you mermaids.”

The man’s eyebrow arches, even though he seems more amused than offended; the bright red of his hair has lost no shine, even in the relative darkness of the grotto, where the sun rays don’t reach. “You think I am a mermaid?”

You look down to his fish-tail. “... yes? I mean, at least this is how I was taught mermaids look, human from the waist up and…”

“Yes, yes. But I am a male, don’t you see?”

“Of course I do. You’re a… male mermaid.”

Your new friend grins. “We prefer merman.” he explains “Or merpeople, when you want to talk about our whole kin. And it’s very kind of you, but we can remain on dry land for a while before it starts sapping our strength. On the other hand… I should probably get back in the water. It’s not safe for me to be here.”

“But you are wounded.” you point out again, feeling more than a little foolish because of course he knows that already; you wish you could ask him what exactly bit him, because if his kind exists then maybe marine monsters do as well, but you feel it’s more important to keep him safe “And you didn’t even have the strength to open your eyes when I found you. You are still too weak to return to the open sea.”

He looks at you; as you expected, your brief conversation seems to have exhausted him already, but the gaze of his brown eyes is lucid, and intense; eyes you can’t help feeling captivated by. “You’re a doctor?”

“No.” you admit “But anyone could see your wound needs to be taken care of. I… I could do it, if you want, and if you don’t want me to call for someone else. I have seen my brother in law sew up many wounds, and I am a seamstress, I’m quite good with a needle and thread.”

The aforementioned tools of the trade are in your bag, since you often visit your clients at home and it’s easier to carry them with you wherever you go; the mermaid - the merman looks at you, as if testing your resolve, and sighs as he lays down on the ground once more, too weak to even keep himself leaning on his elbow. “I guess the fault is mine; I should have been more careful.” he admits “Are you sure you can do it?”

“It will hurt.” you warn him; you’re avoiding his question and you both know it “But if I don’t suture the wound it’ll get infected, and for all I know your people could be ten times more resistant to illness and injury than mine, but…”

“... it would be dangerous in any case; I know. Very well.” the merman decides, his hand raised in a gesture of impotence; but then he smiles at you, and that is reassurance enough “I’m in your hands.”

The merman tells you that, unlike what usually happens with humans, you can use salt water to clean his wound, which you do, quickly pacing back and forth between the grotto and the shore, since you don’t have a bottle or a basin you can use and you are forced to carry as much water as you can in your cupped hands. Then, it is finally time for you to get to work; fortunately your sewing kit has just what you need, a needle of the right size, that you clean carefully, and more than enough black thread to suture any wound. The merman lies on his good side in front of you, as he observes you preparing for an undertaking you are suddenly unsure you can measure up to. You are an excellent seamstress, and while there is clearly a large difference between sewing fabric, no matter how costly, and a person’s skin, you had witnessed your brother in law at work, with his and the patient’s permission, often enough to know what to do. If only your hands would stop shaking…

“It’s alright.” the merman promises softly; he must have perceived how tense you are, but he looks as calm and relaxed as if the one preparing to tend to him were the best surgeon of the four seas “You’ll do great, I’m sure.”

You smile weakly, kneeling in front of him; your sister must be wondering where you are, perhaps even whether something has happened to you, but even though you would never want to worry her, at the moment you are too focused on him to care about anything else. “I just… don’t want to hurt you more than you already are.”

“Those like me are hardier than we look; I’ll be fine. Just imagine I am a frill you are sewing on a dress.”

The thought makes you laugh; you should probably wonder how a creature who has no legs, and therefore has no way to learn about human society and customs, knows what a frill is, but again, the determination to help him has eclipsed any other consideration. A deep breath, a quick prayer… and you get to work. Your patient remains perfectly still as you sew the two halves of the wound together, betraying no trace of pain or discomfort; you can feel his brown eyes on you, his skin cool but tender under your hands.

A whole day passes in ten minutes; in the end you breathe out, and observing the results of your efforts you must admit you did a good job. Will it be enough? Unless there is a well-equipped hospital at the bottom of the sea, and since your new friend refuses to have a professional see him, you can’t help being still worried for him. What if your stitches don’t hold, and his wound bleeds again, becoming infected? What if whatever is responsible for that wound attacks him again…?

“You did a great job.” your patient says, cautiously examining the stitches with his fingers “Really, I think any nurse or doctor would approve. You should be proud of yourself.”

His genuine gratitude makes a smile bloom on your lips. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“And help you did. Thank you…?”

He looks at you questioningly as he slowly turns on his back, his long tail folded on one side, and it takes you a minute to catch his meaning. “Oh! I’m (name), (full name).”

“That’s a lovely name. I wish I could tell you mine, since you probably saved my life, but I can’t, and I’d rather not lie to you.”

You would be curious to know the reason for his reticence, not to mention what kind of names merpeople give their children, but you decide not to ask. “Do you need to eat?” you inquire instead.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well… you must feel very weak, given what happened and the blood you must have lost, so I thought… I have no food with me, or water, but I can go home and take some, if you want. It wouldn’t take long.”

He looks at you, amusement and a touch of disbelief dancing in his eyes; he has a lovely smile, you can’t help noticing. “You are a wonder, you know?” he asks, shaking his head “You didn’t know my kin existed, right?”

“I had no idea! I might have to pinch myself to make sure I am not dreaming.”

“As I expected. You must have… a hundred questions to ask me, and instead you’re worrying I might be hungry.”

“Well, I worked so hard to make sure you don’t die of your wound, the last thing I want is for you to starve.” you point out “Also, since you apparently can’t even tell me your name, I doubt you could tell me… I don’t know, how many of your people exist in the world, how you reproduce or if it’s true that the song of a mermaid can enchant sailors and cause storms.”

Your new friend smiles, admitting that he’d rather not talk too much about his people. “I know it’s unfair; you saved my life, you would deserve to ask as many questions as you want, but we have all sworn to keep our existence secret from humans, I guess you can understand why.”

You think about the bear you have seen exhibited at the fair last year, kept in a cage so small it could barely move, starved to keep him compliant, and in the end killed after the owner had offered a modest sum to any man brave enough to fight him barehanded, and the old wives’ tales, who some people still rely on today, that swear that just a few drops of mermaid’s blood can make a person immortal. 

“Of course; no one must know you actually exist, otherwise you’d be hunted.” you admit; unfortunately your new friend has been seen by the fishermen you diverted to the promontory, but you are confident no one will believe their stories, ascribing them to the traditional tall tales told by sea-men or the sight of a normal, large fish “I… I won’t tell anyone I have met you; not even my dearest friends or my family. You have my word.”

“Thank you, (name); I think… no, I know I can trust you.” 

An unexpected warmth fills you at those words; you know he has no choice in the matter, since all he can do is hope you won’t share his secret with anyone, but knowing he has faith in you actually… makes you happy; proud, even, that you have earned his respect.

For a minute you both remain silent, simply staring at each other, the merman apparently as curious about you as you are about him, since he’s the one who starts asking questions, even though he’s clearly tired. “Do you visit this beach often?”

“I do; it’s my special place, especially when I want to be alone to think.”

“Well, you’re not alone today.”

“I am not.” you agree, and for a moment you’re about to ask him to return, because the beach, quiet and isolated, could become your meeting place, once in a while, and while you had never asked anyone to accompany you there, not even your sister, you wouldn’t mind sharing it with him: a man coming from the sea and a woman born on land, meeting on a place that is a threshold between their worlds. It would be nice; it would be splendid, but of course, you realise with a sigh, you can’t ask your new friend to risk being captured again. 

“What happened to your arm?” you ask back, and his eyebrow arches once more, even though the merman is still smiling.

“I thought we had just agreed that I can't answer your questions.”

“But this concerns you, not your kin; and I couldn’t use this information to hunt you down or prove the fact merpeople exist, even if I wanted to.”

“True.” your new friend admits; he grins, as if genuinely pleased he does have something to share with you. “I lost my arm a few months back; it was bitten off by… well, an animal.”

“A shark?”

“They are larger and more dangerous than any shark, and of anything you could imagine; but they live in the depth of the oceans, which means they pose no danger to humans. That day a child I know had ventured in their territory, and I went after him. You can imagine the rest.”

“Oh, God… that’s horrible.” you murmur, not knowing what else to say “That was… incredibly brave of you.”

“Well, I couldn’t let Luf… the child be eaten, could I? And I don’t need both arms to swim like you do, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice in the end.”

He smiles, as if losing a limb actually wasn’t something to regret, since it was to save an innocent. “Do you have a family of your own?”

“Do you?”

“I asked you first.”

“And I asked you second.” you answer; you’re having fun, and you know it’s the same for him “The answer is no. I live with my sister’s family, her husband and children.”

“And you never think about leaving?” he asks again, and you tense for a moment, because that is the sort of question your sister often asks you, even though in a slightly different sense from the one you know the merman intends.

And the answer is no; you’ll never leave, because you have been the one left behind, and you don’t care if your sister would be fine with it and even happy for you, you won’t make the same choice he made…

“Find a house of my own, you mean? I could, one day, but until my nephews are a little older I want to remain where I am and help my sister and brother in law with them, since they both work out of the house, unlike me.” you explain. Another possibility would be for you to get married and go live with your spouse, but since no one has ever asked for your hand, or even just attracted your attention enough to make you consider taking the plunge, for the moment at least you’re happy as you are “What about you?”

Your new friend tries to convince you he has seven wives and thirteen husbands before admitting he is unmarried and has no children, even though he loves the child he sacrificed his arm for like a son. 

By the time he has shared this information, the merman is fighting to keep his eyes open, the exhaustion clear on his face and in his voice. “You should rest for a while.” you suggest; the ground inside the grotto is not the most comfortable of beddings and you have nothing to fashion a pillow for him, but he does need to regain his strength “I can find some wood and light a fire if you want; and I’ll stay watch outside, of course.”

This time he arches both eyebrows. “You have nothing better to do?”

“Than to make sure no one sees you, and warn you in case those fishermen return? No, I don’t think so.” you retort, and then, as he prepares to protest: “It’s alright; I have no urgent work matters to attend to, and my sister won’t need me until dinnertime. Please, be reasonable; the beach is little frequented, but we can’t exclude the possibility someone sees you.”

You said we, without really thinking about it; it came to you spontaneously, as if it were normal - as if you and the merman were used to acting as an united front, sticking together in times of danger. You don’t notice; he does, and doesn’t complain, but smiles gratefully at you and two minutes later he’s already sleeping heavily, his arm bent under his bright red hair, the green-blue scales of his tail catching the faint light of the sun.

The beach remains completely empty for the next two hours, as the warm afternoon gently declines towards the evening. You wonder whether the fishermen are still searching for their prey at the promontory, or if they plan to return to the area they saw the merman in tomorrow; in that case you should come back as well, you reason as you sit on a large rock not far from the grotto, eyes and ears ready to perceive any sign of an intrusion, and make sure your new friend is safe. You don’t even care about the many appointments you have programmed for the day, not to mention you’ll have to tell your sister you cannot take care of your nephews while she’s at work; this is more important. Protecting him… this is more important than anything you could imagine.

You still can’t believe it. A merman, a creature you considered the stuff of legends and children stories, and he’s there, living and breathing, all things considered much more human than you would have imagined him to be, with his easy smile and open gratitude. If his wound heals as it should, he should be fine; strictly speaking his well-being doesn’t concern you, and trying to defend him from anyone who could find and try and take him away could put you in danger as well, but you don’t care: you want to see him return to the sea, safe and sound, and from then on, even though you doubt you’ll ever see him again, any time you visit the beach you’ll look at the blue expanse of the sea and think back to today, and hope he hasn’t forgotten you…

Two hours after the beginning of your patrol shift, you hear him call your name softly from the grotto; the merman is awake, and smiles at you as he rubs his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise I was going to fall asleep.”

“Well, you did need to rest.” you point out as you sit on the ground “And fortunately you have chosen the least visited beach of the region, because no one came. Listen, I could… go home to take some food, and tell my sister I’ll sleep at a friend’s place, and then come back…” 

“Out of the question.”

“The decision is mine, not yours. I can also take an ointment out of my brother in law’s cabinet, something to make sure your wound doesn’t get infected…”

“(name)…”

A moment later, a large, callous but gentle hand has taken yours to bring it to the merman’s face; he kisses the back, something that for your people has gone out of fashion at least a century ago and that has the power to make you blush furiously, and lose the power of speech. There is nothing lascivious, or even just romantic, in that gesture, but the gratitude it expresses is intense enough to move you.

“I hope your friends and family know how kind and generous you are.” your new friend murmurs; he’s still smiling, his messy red hair brushing against your hand “Thank you, (name); I really don’t know what would have become of me if you hadn’t found me. I will never forget you.”

“And I will never forget meeting you, that’s for sure. But I need to stay…”

“No, you don’t; do you really think those fishermen would return at night? I’ll be fine, and you have to go home to your family. There’s no need for you to spend a night in the open.”

You negotiate for a while, and in the end you accept to leave, promising you will be back tomorrow morning as early as you can, bringing the ointment and something to eat for him. “Err… what do you eat, exactly?” you ask, wondering which one of his two halves determine the sort of food he can ingest. On the other hand, a merman can’t very well hunt for game in the woods or farm cattle to produce milk and cheese… 

“I’d really like a whale steak, thank you.”

“Sorry, market day is on tuesday.” you answer, feigning regret, and a moment later you are both giggling.

“Some bread and water will be more than fine. Now go, (name), I don’t want your family to worry.” he urges you, and you prepare to leave, retrieving your things and making sure to leave no trace of your passage in the grotto. 

“Please, take care of yourself.” you tell him; there is probably no more obvious thing you could say, but you can’t help it “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He simply winks in return, looking at you until you disappear out of his shelter, and you have to force yourself to walk, every step more difficult than the last, your determination to go on rather than turning back and spend the night at the grotto, whatever your new friend may think about it, quickly dissipating.

Leaving him is hard. Painful, even, as if you were letting go of something precious; and despite the relative security of the place you have left him at, part of you fears that is exactly what you are doing. 

If your sister notices there is something weird in you that night -specifically, that she and her husband need to repeat every single word they tell you because you are clearly not paying attention, and you’re so distracted you have put sugar instead of salt in the soup, ruining the dinner for the entire family- she apparently decides not to mention it. But on the next morning, when she sees you head towards the house door at the crack of dawn -you have tried to be as quiet as you could, but having two young children seems to have somehow sharpened her hearing- she takes your hand in hers and asks where you are going.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.” you answer, holding your bag protectively against you, heavy with food for your friend you have taken from the pantry: a water bottle, a whole loaf of still soft bread and two apples. You also hope your brother in law won’t check his supplies cabinet soon, because he would find his stash of bandages and ointment have drastically decreased “You don’t need to worry, I’m not in danger or anything; but there is something I need to do.”

“Can you at least tell me how long you will be gone?”

“I don’t know.” you admit; if the merman’s wound hasn’t gotten infected there is not much more you can do for him, and the sooner he returns to the sea the safer he will be, but you still hope you can… spend some time together, talk, like you did yesterday. You won’t ask about his people, if there is an even slight chance that could put him in danger, but at the same time there is so much you want to know… about him “Please, don’t ask; I’ll be safe, I promise.”  

She looks at you, trusting but still worried for your sake, wrapped in a shawl she inherited from your mother; this is why, perhaps, you are suddenly reminded of her as your sister looks at you. Then, suddenly, she smiles, and “(name), are you going to meet a man?” she asks.

“... what?”

“You are! I should have known. You were clearly distracted last night, and I heard you sing to yourself as you washed the dishes, which is something you only do when you are happy. Have you met recently? Or is it someone you already knew?”

“No, I… it’s not what you think.” you try to explain, suddenly embarrassed for some unfathomable reason; the truth is you are going to meet a man, strictly speaking, but no matter how much you trust your sister, you can’t tell her about him “It’s not… that sort of situation.”

She gently reassures you she doesn’t mean to judge you or to pry, and then mentions that in the afternoon she will accompany the children to visit a family friend, and her husband will be at work. “You can… invite your friend over, if you want. I’m so sorry you don’t have more time for yourself, since you help us so much with the children, perhaps it’s our fault if there is no one important in your life…

“There is someone important in my life; you, and your family.” you quickly point out, not wanting her to feel guilty for a situation you have embraced willingly. Mostly. “You know I love taking care of the children, and I like my life as it is now. Listen… I have to go now; you really don’t need to worry, so please don’t try and stop me.”

Still unsure, your sister nonetheless respects your wishes, and a moment later you are meeting the rising sun as you run down the still empty streets of the town, your heart heavy with dread and excitement both.

When you finally reach your destination your heart is ready to burst, even though the long, hard run is only partially responsible; as you expected -and hoped- the place seems deserted as usual, but you still walk from one side of the beach to the other, making sure the men you were able to mislead yesterday did not return to ambush your new friend.

Your fears assuaged, you finally approach the grotto, from where no sound can be heard. “Hi… it’s me, (name).” you call softly as you reach the entrance; you feel… trepidation, a feeling you have had very few occasions to experiment before and that you can’t explain; it reminds you of the emotion you saw on your sister’s face on the day her husband came to the house to officially ask for her hand “I have the food, and something for your wound. How do you…?”

The words die in your throat; and a part of you dies as well, when you find yourself staring at the inside of the grotto, completely empty. For half a moment your heart is seized by terror as you imagined the fishermen, or whoever could have stumbled upon him and realised the large sum of money he could be sold for, who kidnapped your friend taking advantage of the fact he has no way to run - literally; and then you see something on the ground among the rocks, in the exact spot you sat on yesterday to sew up his wound. 

A flower - a small but pretty little thing, picked from one of the bushes covering the entrance of the grotto and left there as a tiny, heartfelt gift, and next to it, the briefest of messages left in the dirt, using the writer’s finger as a pen.

Thank you

It doesn’t say good-bye, but the intention is evident. The sea’s roar fills the air, but perhaps you’re the one who is screaming, in your heart at least, the disappointment so intense, unexpected and painful that you are sure you can feel your heart break in a thousand pieces, a figure of speech that has never felt so real. A moment later you run out of the grotto towards the shore, hoping against hope he lingered, despite the danger, that he waited for you to come as he had promised, to say farewell. Despite the sunny sky above it the sea is rough today, high waves rising from the blue expanse and crashing down on the beach. But there is no bright red head peeking through the foam, no hand raised to wave good-bye.

He left. He left without waiting for you, and that is what pains you the most. In all fairness, he never actually said he would wait (and how could you not think about it? Why didn’t you make him promise he would, to be sure you could see him once more at least?) but you can’t help feeling disappointed, even betrayed, like a bride abandoned at the altar. He did ask you for food, and approved when you said you would bring an ointment for his wound; and it’s not like you arrived late, since you had promised to come at dawn and the sun has barely appeared above the horizon behind the sea - a breathtaking scene you still can’t appreciate. Did he simply wake up this morning and decided he felt strong enough to swim, the longing for home making him overlook the fact you would arrive soon expecting to find him there? Or he had decided your first meeting would be the last as well from the start, and left deliberately before you would come? 

Whatever the reason behind it, the truth is you have lost him - you’ll never see the merman again, and that grieves you more than you could explain in words, even though you only spent a few hours together and you had always known he would have to return to the sea soon. You had nothing to gain from that unexpected acquaintance, berries least of all, and still you feel as if you had lost something precious, something special that would have made your life richer nonetheless, that you can’t help grieving. 

Your legs hurt after the long run from home, so you let yourself fall on a large rock, from where you contemplate the vast blue expanse, under which your new -and lost- friend is now swimming happily, having left the dry world, and you, behind him.

Why did you leave? I wanted to say good-bye at least. If you were actually grateful, if you actually cared, you would have waited for me…

That is what pains you the most, even though you could never admit it, and it makes you feel more foolish than any love-stricken young girl; the fact that judging by his actions at least, and despite the message he left, he didn’t care for you. You spent a sleepless night, thrilled about the prospect of seeing and talking to him again, and he left, for all you know without a care for you and your efforts. You can’t blame him for being anxious to return home, and you’re happy he had recovered from his wound enough to crawl to the shore and swim, but still… he could at least have said good-bye.

But after all, why am I surprised? In the end, everybody leaves. In the end, no one ever stays for me.

You can feel tears filling your eyes, but you angrily order yourself not to shed them and to stop being foolish, because he owed you nothing and you have no objective reason to feel the merman has abandoned you, no matter how your heart says otherwise. 

You remain on the beach until you’re sure you’re in control of yourself once more, then you return home, just in time to help your sister prepare breakfast and send the children to school. When she sees you return, disappointment and heartbreak having taken the place of the excitement she had seen on your face an hour before, she assumes the worst. 

“What happened?! (name), did… did someone hurt you? Were you…?”

“No, no; I’m fine, just…” you sigh, both unable and unwilling to explain the reason for your distress; unable and unwilling to explain you feel just like when he left, and you had forgotten how terrible a sensation it is “Don’t ask, please; but I’d really like a hug, if you can.”

She can, and you let yourself feel comforted by her solid presence and quiet, tacit acceptance; reassured nothing terrible has happened to you, and having known her share of heartbreak before meeting her husband, your sister holds you in her arms and murmurs she’s sorry and everything will be alright, and obviously she’s right, but it hurts, and you know already no matter how happy and rich a life you will have, you’ll never forget this disappointment.

TAGGING @alucardsdaddyissues and @luuffyswife. Thank you so much for asking!!

[madeline-watson37]

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