#why is a mermaid wearing a watch you ask…. read the fic and find out

[heynhay]

<slides in last minute> i made it to mermay! insp from this lovely piece by @speakswords

[rey-jake-therapist]

Lost Souls: chapter 11 (Sweetbitter fic)

AO3 link

Chapter 10 is here.

Summary:

Cape Cod Academy boarding school, 2002 (flashback) “It���s going to be fine, sweetheart. Right now you’re sulking, but soon you’re going to be as happy as a clam… You’ll see.” “Why are you doing this?” He asked, his eyes still staring at the imposing stone building. “I’m just trying to do what’s the best for you! Your intelligence was wasted in public school, here you’ll have the chances to show your true potential,” Simone replied. She gently touched his arm and tried to make him smile, but Jake remained stone faced. “That’s not what I’m asking. Why do you get away from me? Why New York?” He inquired, his voice trembling. “Jake, we talked about this…” "We did? As far as I remember, you talked; I had nothing to say about it," he snapped angrily.

Notes:

TW: teen sex at the end of the chapter. I'm so sorry for the long waiting! I must say my mind has drifted away towards other interests for a while, I wrote a couple of fics for other fandoms... I promise I won't let down Jake and Mina. They'll be back before you know it!

Cape Cod Academy boarding school, 2002

Jake looked up at the high and elegant building towering in front of him. It looked so much like a castle where princesses and noble men lived that he almost expected a knight to ride out of it. 

Jake wasn't interested in princesses and knights though. And this place was no castle: for him, it would be a prison for the next years to come. Deaf to his protests, Simone had rented out his mother's house and kept the money for his scholarship in the Cape's best boarding school. While he would be here studying, she would head to New York and find a job as an editor, or even better, find one for the novel she was writing. She had always refused to tell Jake about the novel, but he had sneaked in her room one day and had read everything. It was about a mermaid, and a young boy she raised. He knew it was about him and her.

Jake looked with disdain at the suit he was wearing: it was classical, black with a white shirt, a black tie with white stripes, and the coat of arms of the school sewed on the jacket. It wasn’t as bad as he feared when Simone had told him he would wear a uniform, but he still hated it. He disliked this school already, and everything related to it. He hated that Simone told him it was for his own good, while he knew she only wanted to get rid of him. 

“It’s going to be fine, sweetheart. Right now you’re sulking, but soon you’re going to be as happy as a clam… You’ll see.”

“Why are you doing this?” He asked, his eyes still staring at the imposing stone building.

“I’m just trying to do what’s the best for you! Your intelligence was wasted in public school, here you’ll have the chances to show your true potential,” Simone replied. She gently touched his arm and tried to make him smile, but Jake remained stone faced. 

“That’s not what I’m asking. Why do you get away from me? Why New York?” He inquired, his voice trembling.

“Jake, we talked about this…”

"We did? As far as I remember, you talked; I had nothing to say about it," he snapped angrily.

"It's true, you don't. You're a child, Jake. I'm responsible for you, and I thought I was doing only what was the best for you, but I was wrong. I was a child when I took you with me too, I made mistakes but I intend to fix them now!’

I wasn't a child when you came in my bed…

"Why do you go to New York? You could have found work in the Cape, New York is so far away!" Jake pleaded.

It was all in vain, he knew it. Simone had made up her mind the day her mother had walked in the house they shared unannounced, and caught her and Jake canoodling on the living-room couch. Simone's mother had screamed bloody murder and called her daughter 'crazy' and hadn't listened to anything that Jake had tried to say in their defense. Simone had never been the same after that. Weeks after weeks, Jake had watched, helpless, the person he loved the most get her distances from him.

It was apparently not enough though, since now Simone wanted to put two hundred and fifty miles between them. It wasn't that long of a distance, she said.

"New York's where everything happens, love. I've just turned twenty-two but all I ever thought of was you, of protecting you. I've got to think of myself now!"

"Then take me with you!" He begged. "We were happy here, we can be there too!"

"Jake, Ma' was right: the way we live, just the two of us... It's not healthy, and it's not right!" Simone claimed, her large blue eyes avoiding his gaze.

"But we're happy, aren't we?" Jake asked sheepishly. 

A pretty dark haired girl passed by him and flashed him a smile. Jake responded with a brief smirk. Simone noticed the interaction and kept watching the girl until she left her field of view, then replied with a warm voice,

"You need to spend time with people your age. You can get all the girls you want! It's time you expand your horizons. Maybe one day, we can be together again, if it's meant to be. 

"But I don't want all the girls," Jake protested. “I don’t want anything to change, Moni! I need you…”

Her eyes filled with tears, Simone wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. Jake buried his head in the crook of her neck, savoring one last time the caress of her long blond blair against his cheeks bathed in his tears and hers. For the few minutes that their embrace lasted, he hoped Simone would change her mind, but when she finally broke away from him, she whispered in a voice tainted with sadness, 

"I can't keep the cab waiting any longer. You should go too; you don't want to be late on your first day, do you?"

Jake's response was a long and mournful gaze. He couldn't care less about being late for school. Where his heart used to be, there was now a bleeding wound, and Simone was twisting a knife in it with each and every word she said. 

As Simone was back in the cab that had brought her and Jake to his new school, Jake put his hand on the door frame and inquired,

“Will I even see you again?”

Simone frowned , shook her head with desperation and responded with a slightly teasing voice,

“Of course you will, silly! You’ll visit me in New York for holidays, or I’ll come to you. It’s not as if I went to the other side of the world..”

Jake nodded, somehow reassured. He watched the taxi drive the alley up until it was out of sight. Little did he know then that he wouldn’t see Simone again for more than a year. He was fourteen, a new life was beginning for him. Again. 

Four months later

Jake found himself alone in the bedroom he shared with his roommate Chris, staring at the ceiling from his bed. On the floor lay a crinkled Christmas letter from Simone, bearing wishes and apologies for her absence. Jake had read it over at least five times, foolishly hoping to uncover a hidden message conveying how much she missed him beneath the polished surface of her words. Yet, the harsh truth stared back at him – Simone chose to spend Christmas with her new boyfriend's family rather than with him. A new lover, a new life, new friends – Simone had it all and didn't want to jeopardize her newfound happiness by bringing an embarrassing relic from her past into the equation. She claimed to still love him and suggested he spend Christmas with her parents, who happened to despise him!

"Dude! You spending the whole afternoon like this, or are you up for a tennis match?" Chris interrupted.

Jake shot a sidelong glance at his roommate. Chris wielded a tennis racket with a big grin, but Jake shook his head and mumbled, "Dude, ask someone else. I always kick your ass anyway, not fun anymore."

Chris winced but persisted. "Come on, I've got a little time before my parents pick me up! I've really worked on my serve. This time, I'm sure I'll be the one kicking your butt!"

Jake cackled, momentarily forgetting Simone's letdown, and teased Chris, "Alright, but don't come crying after your fifteenth loss!"

Two hours later, Chris was reveling in victory, having triumphed over Jake for the third time. "See? I told you I improved! Who's crying now?"

"I'm not crying because you got lucky," Jake retorted, though he seethed inside. Chris laughed, "Luck? Three times? Come on, buddy, your head wasn't in it, was it? Your girl dumped you just before Christmas and got you all mopey, booo!"

"She's not my girl," Jake growled, realizing he had just spilled more than he intended. "Simone raised me. And it's none of your business, but in case you're curious, I'm flying solo for Christmas. Don't care, really. Christmas is for kids."

"No family? Spending all the holidays here?" Chris prodded.

"Yep, that's the deal."

Jake hesitated to mention Simone's parents. Delving into that topic might open up a can of worms he preferred to leave sealed forever. The day his mom chose to end her own life, Jake became an orphan, and he found solace in that role. He had no desire to explain why he wanted nothing to do with Simone's parents, and he assumed they felt the same way about him. Simone's mother had extended an olive branch in the form of a birthday gift, an ugly sweater that Jake promptly tossed in the bin.

"Man, that sucks," Chris commented with sincerity. "You know what, come spend Christmas with us! I should ask my parents first, but I'm sure they'll be okay!" he offered enthusiastically.

Jake shot him a surprised look. Chris was a decent guy, no doubt about it. Chris considered them friends, but Jake had corrected him so many times that he was amazed Chris persisted. It was probably out of pity, Jake thought with sudden clarity. Back when he was just a boy and Simone’s parents took him in, pity, not love, had been their primary motivation. They expected gratitude, even in the face of lies about his mother's death. Jake didn’t want Chris's or anyone else’s compassion or pity; he just wanted to be left alone.

“Don’t bother,” he replied dryly. “Christmas is just a day! I’m not a kid waiting for Santa Claus anymore.”

Disappointed but understanding, Chris replied softly, "As you wish," then left the tennis court, closely followed by Jake.

Later, Jake dined alone at a table when Chris joined him. Jake grumbled, "You're not obliged to dine with me. You've got friends. It's not because we're roommates that we have to do everything together."

Unfazed, Chris smiled and retorted with humor, "I know, but I like your company. You're so friendly and fun to be around. The life and soul of the party, as they say! I just love it."

Jake rolled his eyes but smirked. "So you like being with someone who outsmarts you and all your friends! How interesting."

Chris scoffed and sneered, "And he's modest too, what do you know!"

Suddenly, Betty Harris, a pretty blond girl from Jake's class, interrupted their banter. Ignoring Chris, she stood in front of Jake and asked, a smile playing on her lips, "How's the veal?"

"It's alright," Jake replied politely. Betty, though not a friend, greeted him daily and offered to work on projects. Conventionally attractive and friendly, Betty was one of the popular girls, always surrounded by giggling friends. It was a crowd Jake had no interest in.

"How's your science project going?" Betty inquired.

"Boring, but I should finish by the end of the week."

"Cool! Well... bon appétit!" she murmured, short of other questions.

After a nod from Jake, Betty walked away to another table, followed by her giggling friends. Chris watched them until they disappeared, then pinched Jake's shoulder and exclaimed, "What's wrong with you?!"

Jake raised an eyebrow, taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"This girl! She's into you, and you just... do nothing about it! Three guys asked her out, and she turned them all down. What are you waiting for?"

Jake shook his head and chuckled nervously. While he suspected Betty's attention wasn't just friendly, he hadn't given it much thought. "She's just nice; calm down. Why don't you ask her out? Seeing how saliva dripped down your mouth when she was here, I'd say you're interested," he teased, deflecting.

"Of course I'm interested; she's gorgeous!" Chris muttered in a smothered voice. “I bet she’s got all the guys at her feet. Except you, apparently. In case you haven't noticed, she didn't even take a look at me. I don't understand how a guy like you doesn't have a girlfriend, anyway. Are you gay?"

Jake sniffed and asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips, "Maybe? Perhaps I'm just waiting for the right moment to make my coming-out speech to you… Do you think I'm attractive? Is that what you..."

"Hey, stop right here! I just see how the girls look at you, dumbass," Chris grumbled. "I'm not into dudes, so if that's your thing, it's okay. I don't care! But count me out."

"And how would you know if you haven't tried?" Jake teased, eyes now locked onto Chris's, relishing as his roommate squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.

Deciding the teasing had gone on long enough, Jake released a hearty laugh. Chris's face instantly relaxed, and he tossed some breadcrumbs in retaliation. Soon, a minor breadcrumb war erupted, only halted by the supervisor's threat of two hours of detention.

"Seriously, I don't get it," Chris continued the earlier discussion. "If a girl like Betty checked me out like this, I'd ask her out! But I don't look as good as you, so it's never going to happen." A wry laugh escaped him.

"Don't devalue yourself. I'm sure you'll soon find an ordinary girlfriend who likes the boring type – you'll have two-point-five kids, a dog, and a house with a garden in the suburbs, and you'll be happy and bored forever!" Jake teased.

"Piss off!" Chris protested, laughing. “You’re just annoyed that you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

Jake cackled, but as Chris's words hit him, he scanned the room until his eyes found Betty Harris, who blushed and looked away. Did he really miss what was obvious to everyone else? What was he keeping himself for? For a woman who didn’t want him around anymore and avoided him like the plague? What was he to Simone, in the end? A friend? A little brother? The reminder that he would rather spend Christmas with strangers than with him cut Jake like a knife. Unwilling to display more of his confusion, he drew a smug smile on his face and responded, “Maybe I’m not! But I can still kick your ass on the court, and if you join me there after dessert, I’ll show you!”

A week later, Jake asked Betty to work on a presentation with him. Surprised and visibly delighted, she agreed to meet him later at the library. After an hour of serious work, they began chatting and asking each other questions about their lives. Jake could now see what his roommate had perceived as soon as his eyes fell on Betty: she was stunning, a typical American beauty. As they decided they had worked enough and began packing, Jake took his camera out of his satchel and asked if he could take her picture. Betty giggled shyly but agreed, graciously posing for him. The photo session was cut short as Jake finished the roll of film. It gave Jake an idea:

“Do you want to go with me to the darkroom to develop those pictures?” he asked Betty.

She gave him a big, lovely smile and replied cheerfully, “Sure, I’d love to! I was always curious to see how it was done.”

Later in the darkroom, Betty admired the pictures hung for drying by Jake.

“You’ve got an eye for photography, Jake! They are beautiful photos. I even like mine, and yet I hate seeing myself in photographs, usually,” she swooned.

“Really, why?” Jake asked.

“I never like my face in them. I always look funny or weird, but in these pictures, I find myself, you know… Pretty! I hope I don’t sound too presumptuous. I know I’m very basic,” she replied with apparent shyness that Jake knew was false modesty. Chris was right; Betty had been asked out by several other boys but turned them down, claiming she was not interested in dating yet. And now here she was, alone with him in the high school darkroom bathed in red light, waiting for him to make the first move. Helped by the intimacy provided by the quiet atmosphere of the room, he had no intention of disappointing her.

Despite the dim lighting, he noticed Betty blushing as he took a step closer. Locking eyes with her, he confidently stated, "You're not just pretty, you're beautiful."

A shy giggle escaped her lips as she responded, "Really? You never seemed to notice me before."

"You're beautiful too," she replied, smirking. "And those eyes of yours, they're like nothing I've ever seen."

Jake didn't say anything in response. Instead, he gently brushed her hair behind her ear, causing her breath to quicken. He knew she was waiting for him to kiss her, and without hesitation, he indulged her. As their lips met, he felt the softness of hers and sensed her hunger for more. Pressing her body against his, she moaned and closed her eyes in pleasure.

Against the lab wall, he trailed kisses down her neck, encouraged by her hand running through his hair. With a bold move, he slipped his hand under her shirt, relishing the touch of her silky skin against his palm. Returning to her mouth, he unbuttoned her shirt slowly, savoring every moment.

Pausing for a breath, he took in the sight of her now revealed body in the dim room. "You're gorgeous," he whispered, acknowledging her blush. Briefly, he compared Betty's body to Simone's, but quickly dismissed the thought.

She spoke with a mix of anticipation and nervousness, "Are you... aroused?"

Suppressing a chuckle, Jake felt his own excitement clearly visible.

"Yes, I am. But I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?"

Betty nodded, her voice faint, "I'm still a virgin, and I'm not sure if I'm ready to move so fast. I really like you, but we haven't even started dating yet."

Jake smirked, not disappointed, but rather surprised and pleased by how far they had already gone.

"Of course," he assured her. "But I'd love to pleasure you before you go. I promise to be gentle. Do you trust me?"

Betty hesitated for a moment, but then looked into his eyes and replied with confidence, "Yes, I do."

With their passionate kissing reignited, Jake's hands ventured beneath her underwear. As he found her clit and began to gently stimulate it, she gasped, but didn't resist. Soon, her body convulsed in pleasure, her moans of his name filling the room. Jake continued until she reached her climax, wet and breathless.

Later, they were rushing to dinner and arrived just in time to find Chris sitting alone. Jake motioned for Betty to join them, but throughout the meal, he and Betty exchanged frequent glances. Chris couldn't help but notice the change in Jake's behavior and couldn't resist teasingly asking, "What have you guys been up to? You almost missed out on the chief's famous canned mushroom sauce and his fabulous instant mashed potatoes..."

"We were actually working on our presentation, it's due next week. Time just flew by," Betty replied with a mischievous smile, exchanging another quick glance with Jake, who smirked in response. Chris snorted in disbelief.

"Yeah, right. I almost forgot, work is so captivating," he said sarcastically.

Later that night, in their shared room, Chris and Jake lay in their respective beds when Chris broke the silence, curious to know the truth.

"So, Jake, you and Betty... You weren't really working this whole time, were you?"

"I won't say a word without my lawyer," Jake muttered, before lighting a cigarette.

"Dude, you know smoking is forbidden here. And since when do you smoke anyway?"

"What are you going to do, report me?" Jake challenged.

"Not unless you spill the beans about why you and Betty Harris almost missed dinner tonight," Chris responded, determined.

"Well, I took her to the darkroom to develop some photographs. And as for what happened after? Let's just say you were right, she's quite fond of me," Jake admitted, a smug look on his face.

"I knew it!" Chris exclaimed loudly. "So, what now? Are you two officially dating? Is she your girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend? I don't know. My dad used to say, 'there are plenty of fish in the sea, but never let a good one swim away.' But right now, I just want to explore more fish," Jake stated, nonchalantly.

Ending notes: Whenever I write a fanfiction I'm trying my best for it to integrate within the canon material. Regarding Jake's backstory it wasn't very hard because we have very little information about it. Still, the choice of making Simone abandon Jake in a boarding school for a year wasn't random. In the book, the day Simone invites Jake and Tess for lunch (dinner?), Jake tells Tess that Simone left her parents house when she was 22, just like Tess did in Sweetbitter. He adds he didn't see any of her 23rd year, meaning she left him behind and didn't invite him to join her in New York. He was 14 years old then, probably soon to be 15... Knowing Simone, she would have made sure he kept going to school without needing her to monitor him. Considering that Jake always said Simone raised him without ever mentioning her parents' influence, and even emphasized that it was just the two of them, I thought it was very possible that he didn't live with them even after Simone's departure for NYC. Hence, the boarding school :)

Tagging @sylverfaeland , @endlessbittersweetdreams , @lissysandmanadorer , @writing-for-life , @deloftheendlessdrama ♥

[nephilim-tears]

APRIL SHOWERS

ADRIAN CHASE X READER 

Warnings: F! Reader. Fingering.

↳ SMUT Fic ::  Here is short warm up fic I wrote inspired by the gifs and crappy weather instead of  doing the things I'm supposed to be doing. 

Browse my catalog? 

You are responsible for the content you consume, as always read with care.

A trail of steam followed him out of the bathroom into the bedroom. He expected to see her tucked safely and securely under the blankets where he left her but all that remained was an empty bed. He was extra quiet not to wake her up too; it wasn’t like her to be up early. The last place he thought he’d find her was standing on the balcony in his button-down black shirt. Her sleepy aesthetic was long gone, washed away by the early April rain that drenched her from head to toe. 

Adrian cautiously approached her keeping his footsteps light not wanting to disturb what seemed to be a private moment between her and the world. He took a seat on the wooden floor a few feet from her, staring at her staring at the city.

His eyes followed the outline of her bare legs watching the droplets slide off the smooth skin. The drenched fabric clung to her body doing little to nothing to hide her nipples pebbling in the cold. 

“Are you gonna kiss me goodbye or just sit there till you’re late?”

“I like the view plus I'm already late,” He wipes the lens of his prescription glasses ridding it of the fog then added, “They should invent little windshield wipers for my glasses.” 

 “I don’t think you’re supposed to wear them in the rain like that. Why don’t you ask Kevin to pick up a shift for you?”

Adrian narrowed his eyes at her, “I don’t trust guys named Kevin.” And he wasn't joking, he really didn’t trust guys named Kevin for whatever reason, no matter who the Kevin was. Everyone around him simply accepted it as a fact of life. 

“What about sick days?” she turned around and faced him fully offering her best pout. 

Between picking up extra shifts at work and vigilante duties, they hardly spent any time together for the past two weeks. How could he deny her something as simple as his company? The pitter-patter against the floor did not drive a hard bargain; track through the cold Washington grime all day alone in wet shoes or go back to bed and be warmed by his sweetheart? That’s a no-brainer. 

It was apparent he wasn’t planning on going to work judging by his comfortable man-spreading posture slumped against the rails of the balcony. If he decided to go now, his uniform would take ages to dry. Even so, he continued to banter with her as if he needed convincing, “I’ve given you all my sick days, those fuckers will be calling me to clock in after I’m dead.” 

“You look good wet,” The thought left his mouth before his brain could process it, “Like a mermaid. That makes me a perverted fisherman I think.” 

That’s not the strangest thing he’s ever said to her, “I’d totally let you fuck if I was a mermaid.” 

“How would that even work if you were a mermaid? You wouldn’t have a—”

Not giving him the opportunity to pounder mermaid physiology, she got on all fours crawling towards him till her nose bumped his, “Wouldn’t have a what Adrian?” 

“Wouldn’t have this…” He whispered pulling her back flush against his chest, spreading her legs open as he ran his hands up and down her inner thighs. 

“We should take this inside I don’t want you to get sick.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he responded, “I don’t mind, if you’re here I’m here. I heal freakishly fast anyways.” 

“You’re so pussy whipped.“

A smirk graced his lips as he leaned in closer near the shell of her ear and whispered, “Who wouldn’t be it's a pretty pussy.” Taking advantage of the proximity of his mouth, she tilted her head till she captured his lips in a sweet kiss. 

Adrian moaned into the kiss brushing the pads of his fingers against her outer folds occasionally sliding it towards her clit but never making contact with the bundle of nerves. The lack of panties was unsurprising to him. She hardly wore any at home. 

“Adri please…” Her voice met his ear in a low whimper as her chest heaved in anticipation. 

Never one to deny her anything she asked of him, he spread her pussy apart as wide as he’s able to with the wide span of his slender fingers, his thumb and middle finger kept her labia fully exposed while he petted her clit with his pointer finger. 

Adrian made no effort to further stimulate her, instead, he let the beads of cold droplets do the work, enjoying the way she jerked forward in response to the cold rain hitting the sensitive flesh. 

He tucked his head into her shoulder, eyes peering down at her body watching her exposed folds glisten and pulsate at the slightest contact of the slow and agonizing rain drumming on. 

“How long are you going to keep me like this?” She grunted in frustration. 

He peels the shirt off her shoulder scrunching it at her elbows watching the icy water dangle off the peak of her nipples with intensity, “Until I don’t feel like it.”

[jeonsjiddies]

little things | jhs (m)

⏤  Pairing: single dad!Hoseok x reader ⏤  Genre: smut, fluff ⏤  Word Count: 6.1k ⏤  Warnings: very brief mentions of abortion (that didn’t happen), breast play, daddy kink, impregnation kink, cream pie, dirty talk

⏤  Summary: The best things in life are often unexpected. Like the two year old girl who ran up to you for comfort, and her devastatingly handsome father. 

Thank you to @excusemin​ and @sugaflake​ for beta reading. I love you.

Part of my Milestone Celebration Event! Check out the other fics here.

The weather was absolutely perfect. The sun was bright and shining but it wasn’t hot enough to make you sweat. The wind was gentle and rustled the leaves on the trees with a tender caress, the birds were singing, and for the first time in a while, you felt good. You had taken a walk to the nearby park, making a few laps around the walking trail before settling yourself against a tree to soak in some sun and relax. You had promised yourself you’d get out more after being holed up in your apartment alone with only your red wine and oreos to keep you company. It had been a few weeks since you’d broken up with your boyfriend of the time, and you were finally ready to become a productive citizen of society again.

It was the perfect day to do so in your opinion, everything around you seemed so tranquil. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the warm air to soothe you. That was, until you heard a shrill shrieking and your eyes popped open seconds before a girl who couldn’t have been older than two, catapulted herself into your arms. She was screaming, crying, clinging to you for dear life, one hand pointing behind her and you looked up to see a disgruntled goose hissing at the two of you, stalking closer with a threatening posture.

You slowly stood and backed up behind the tree, holding the small girl close to you, ready to use your body to shield her own. The goose hissed a few more times, but thankfully did not advance any closer. You waited, watching quietly, and it seemed to decide you weren’t worth it before hissing in warning once more and stalking off towards its nest. You let out a breath of relief, and tried to set the little girl down but she clung to you and made it clear she wasn’t letting go, so you rubbed her back soothingly.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” she sniffled into your neck.

“That’s okay, I’ll help you find them.”

You carried her closer to the playground section of the park, looking around for someone who might be looking for her. Soon you heard a frantic male voice booming through the air.

“Yeona! YEONA!”

The little girl’s head popped up at the sound, her head turning towards the voice.

“Daddy?”

You looked up and followed her line of sight, your gaze landing on a hunk of a man. He was tall, well-built but not bulky, with thick, black hair and lovely tan skin. The man’s eyes locked with the child in your arms and he visibly melted in relief seeing his daughter alive and unharmed. He ran over to the two of you quickly, guiding the fluffy dog on the leash with him. He reached the two of you almost instantly, and Yeona slipped from your arms into her father’s embrace easily, snuggling up to him.

“Thank goodness you’re okay! I was so worried!” he fretted, smoothing down her hair and fretting over her, causing her to let out the cutest giggle you’d ever heard in your life.

His gaze turned to you after he’d calmed down enough to pay attention to anything but the little girl in his arms, and it was then that you noticed his perfectly straight pearly white teeth, soft lips, and eyes that shimmered like diamonds. Your breath caught in your throat as he watched you and then he began to ramble.

“Thank you so much, I am so sorry! Mickey got his leash tangled around a pole and I turned my back for two seconds and she was gone! I was so scared I thought I was going to throw up, I kept thinking about all those stories I heard about little girls getting kidnapped and sold into slavery and I think I almost passed out. Thank you so much for keeping her safe, I don’t know how I can ever repay you. She is my everything I don’t know what I’d do without her, she’s all I’ve got left and I…” he sighed, taking a deep breath and opening those shimmery eyes to meet yours once again, “thank you.”

“It’s really no problem, I get it. Kids can be a handful.” you smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you so much. For helping. For not judging. Oh! I’m Hoseok.” he extended a hand to you and you shook it gently, feeling sparks racing up your arm and down your spine but you shook them off.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

You both heard Yeona’s stomach growl and Hoesok laughed.

“Time for lunch, little one?”

She nodded and pouted adorably.

“Say bye to Y/N.”

Her little face scrunched up in displeasure and she started crying, reaching out desperately for you, and Hoseok almost dropped her from the unexpected shift in her weight. Taken aback, you allowed her to jump into your arms once more, cradling her close so she didn’t fall. She buried her head in your neck and you looked at Hoseok in shock.

“I’m so sorry, Yeona come on we have to go.” he tried prying her from your frame but she only wailed in response, clutching tighter.

“NO.”

“Yeona please, Y/N must want to go home.”

“No!” she sobbed.

You rubbed her back soothingly, rocking from side to side a bit to calm her down.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t cry. Look at me, okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face and you smiled.

“There’s a pretty girl!” you smiled, smoothing down some hair that had gone awry. “How’s this? If you go get lunch with daddy, I promise we can play together at the park soon. Okay? Well, if that’s alright with you?” you looked up at Hoseok.

“Of course!” he agreed quickly.

“But… I want you to come too.” she pouted, looking up at you with  pitiful puppy dog eyes.

You looked up at Hoseok for some direction and he watched the two of you carefully.

“Would you like to join us for lunch? My treat. As a thank you.” he offered, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a shy smile gracing his lips.

“I don’t want to impose-” you began but Yeona whined loudly.

“Please!”

“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off.

“Yay!” Yeona grinned, hugging you tightly then wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand, pulling you along with her towards the car.

Hoseok laughed and followed the two of you with Mickey on his leash. Yeona insisted that you sit with her in the back so she could show you her collection of stickers. You gave the appropriate excited responses to each one, even gifting you a shimmery mermaid, pressing it into your shirt, telling you it was her favorite but she wanted you to have it.

Hoseok pulled up to a local cafe that had outdoor seating, saying he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mickey in the car alone, a fact that warmed your heart. You helped Yeona slide onto the bench, Hoseok sitting across from the two of you. You ordered something cheap, not wanting to burden him, and made small talk while you waited for your food.

“Thank you again, so much, for keeping Yeona safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something had happened to her,” Hoseok sighed.

“No problem at all, thank you for lunch!”

Hoseok smiled, and turned to watch Yeona draw something on one of those kids menus they give out with crayons, her picture depicting the day at the park.

“So is your wife at work?” you asked, sipping on your soda, attempting to avoid the silence.

“I, uh, don’t have a wife,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize - your husband?”

“I’m single.” Hoseok laughed.

“Oh. So it’s just you raising Yeona?”

“Yeah, it’s been just us since the beginning. Her mom… it wasn’t a permanent thing, and when she realized she was pregnant, she wanted to…” he glanced over at Yeona, and though she was busy messing with Mickey, Hoseok still imitated the scissor motion with his hands, rather than saying the word.

Your eyes grew wide and you glanced over at Yeona.

“I mean, I believe in choices, don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t imagine that happening to my child. I begged her to reconsider and promised I wouldn’t ask for anything if she let me keep Yeona, and here we are.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” you watched his face for a reaction.

“You don’t have to say anything! I just wanted to thank you again.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same, I hope.”

“You would hope, but oftentimes I just get judgemental looks or scowls. People aren’t very kind to single parents, apparently,” he sighed, twirling the straw around in his drink, “so your kindness is appreciated.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you’ve been treated that way. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to raise a child alone. If you never need anything, you can call me? If you feel comfortable?” you offered, holding out your phone.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” Hoseok’s eyes widened in shock.

You shook your head with a smile, handing over your phone for him to input his number and texted him so he had yours. Hoseok looked star struck, and you wondered why someone so bright and happy could receive such backlash. You couldn’t focus on that thought for long, because Yeona jumped up excitedly, clapping and pointing to the waiter who was bringing your food.

You helped her cut hers into smaller bites and entertained her throughout the meal whilst eating yours so Hoseok could relax and enjoy his food, and you didn’t miss the appreciative smile he sent you.

Throughout the next few months, you spent more and more time with both Hoseok and Yeona. You’d meet them at the park, accompany them on little adventures, video chat with them before bed. You began hanging out at their house, spending your days nestled in the crook of their couch with Yeona snuggled up against your side while you watched Frozen 2 for the six hundredth time, or conducting a rather elegant tea party in which you’d convinced Hoseok to wear a tiara for.

You spent so much time around the pair, their home had begun to feel like a home away from home. You often found yourself crashing on the couch after playing too hard and staying too late. You searched YouTube and learned how to french braid since Yeona couldn’t stop talking about “princess hair” and Hoseok was… less than talented with her hair. You would sit behind her on her bed, braiding her hair and telling her silly stories and jokes, and began to love the little girl as your own.

Hoseok would sneak up behind you and attack the both of you with tickles or start a bubble fight. Sometimes it was hard to forget you weren’t a family, especially when strangers in public mistook you for one. You’d blush and look away, while Hoseok would gently correct them… at first. Slowly, Hoseok stopped correcting them, saying they could think whatever they wanted.

You tried not to read too much into that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered when he would just let other people think that you were together, that you were a family. Sometimes, he’d even play it up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close, purposefully giving people the wrong idea with a mischievous smirk on his face.

You’d try to hide the heat on your skin, the way your heart pounded, the way your breathing seemed a little uneven when he got too close. While you’d just seen Hoseok as an attractive man and a wonderful father at first, the more time you spent with him, the more you had begun to fall for him. He was so sweet and funny and kind and cared about Yeona so much it burned your insides with joy.

The nights when you’d stay, you both had a habit of sipping on a glass of wine while you chatted, just enjoying each other’s company, and enjoying the peace and quiet. You’d never trade Yeona for anything, but sometimes she was so energetic the both of you couldn’t quite keep up, needing to unwind and relax after she’d fallen asleep.

You’d met his friends and parents at Yeona’s third birthday party, and they loved you as much as Hoseok did, a fact that caused his bright smile to glow to the point he rivaled the sun. You’d become a staple in their lives, a constant, someone they could rely on. It was crazy to you how one fateful day had changed the course of your life, and these two unsuspecting strangers had grabbed onto your heart and refused to let go. You couldn’t say you were complaining though.

Not when you were the cause of Yeona’s adorable little giggle, her tiny hands coming to cover her face while her entire frame shook from the force of her laughter. Not when you’d look over and catch Hoseok watching the two of you with a wistful, joyful expression. Not when he’d join the fun and you’d both chase her around the yard, Mickey following and barking while his tail wagged a million miles an hour.

There had even been a few nights you’d awoken on their couch to find Yeona crawling up next to you, whimpering pathetically as she mumbled “bad dream” and reached to you for comfort. You’d hold her close and stroke her hair, humming gentle lullabies to soothe her weary young mind. There were nights when you weren’t there and you’d get a FaceTime call at an unholy hour, Hoseok apologizing, saying Yeona wouldn’t go back to sleep without speaking to you.

You’d comfort her and assure her everything was alright, and you would visit her soon, and the two of you would have so much fun she wouldn’t even remember why she was sad in the first place. Hoseok would thank you, apologizing that he couldn’t convince her to leave you be, and you’d shrug him off, telling him you were available anytime. You loved her and would do anything to make her happy. What you didn’t tell him was that the same applied to him...

It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted him, how badly you wanted to be a true part of their little family. You knew you had a special place in their hearts, that you were an honorary part of the family, but you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what it might have been like if you were to be with Hoseok, if you were to accept Yeona as your own. Would you be able to make them happy? Or would you just be trying to fill a void meant for someone else? You’d shrug those thoughts away as soon as they came and focus on living your life as normally as you could.

That’s when your other thoughts about Hoseok would set in. To say you wanted Hoseok would be quite the understatement. Yes, you wanted to be a part of their family in the simplest ways, to be there for them and love them unconditionally, but there was also that lingering attraction. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him some days when he laughed, when his shirt rode up and accidentally displayed the trail of hair leading down to the promised land.

When he’d display his strength by helping you move something, or when he’d wrap his arms around you just a little too tightly, allowing your bodies to press against each other. If you weren’t cooing over how cute the two of them were, you were thirsting over Hoseok and trying desperately to think innocent thoughts, lest your arousal get so potent he would notice.

Once, you’d gone to the pool with Hoseok and Yeona, thinking nothing of the invite until you’d shown up in your bikini, ready to swim. Hoseok had physically ceased moving and his gaze had slowly trailed down your body, drinking in the sight of you so scantily-clad. His gaze had your skin burning more than the hot summer sun and you squirmed under his undivided attention, unable to stop yourself from also peeking a glance at his shirtless chest. Smooth skin, abs that weren’t too defined but were definitely there, that drool-worthy v shape that disappeared into his trunks…

You’d both snapped back to reality when Yeona had whined loudly, asking you to play with her under the waterfall station. Heat had flooded your cheeks and Hoseok had looked down with a guilty expression, scratching the back of his neck with a chuckle, saying he’d find a chair to place your items at and would meet the two of you over there.

There was also the time you’d come over for movie night a little earlier than planned and Hoseok had answered the door in a towel, loosely hung low on his hips and you’d been mesmerized by the water droplets that slowly traveled down his almost naked body. You’d audibly sucked in a breath, your mouth parting just slightly, and Hoseok had apologized, then rushed off to get dressed, but you hadn’t gotten the image out of your mind since.

On Friday night, you’d just arrived home after a long day at work, flinging yourself onto the couch with your amazon package in hand, a cute JoJo bow you’d picked up for Yeona after seeing it on the app during your late night scrolling. All your targeted ads were now centered around items for young girls rather than women your own age from you spoiling the young girl so much. You smiled to yourself and just as the thought had left your mind, your phone rang.

“Y/N!” Hoseok gasped, sounding panicked.

You immediately sat up, “what’s wrong?”

“I have this event for work tonight that I absolutely can not miss and my babysitter just cancelled. I tried calling the guys, my mom, everyone! No one’s available and I hate to ask this, but do you think you could watch Yeona? I swear it’ll only take like, two hours! Tops!”

“Hobi, calm down. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?!” he sighed in relief.

“You ordered me pizza for tonight.”

“You got it. The usual?”

“You’re the best, I’ll see you soon.”

You hoisted yourself up from the couch and trudged out the door, making quick work of your drive to Hoseok’s place. The door swung open before you could even knock, and Yeona flung herself into you, wrapping her arms around your legs, then reaching up for you to hold her. You leaned down and picked her up, snuggling her close to you as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

“Daddy said you’re going to play with me! By ourselves!” she bounced excitedly in your arms.

“It’s true! Are you excited?”

“Yes!”

You giggled and placed her on the ground, turning to Hoseok who was slipping his jacket on. He leaned in to give you a tight, thankful hug that allowed you to smell his intoxicating aftershave. You swooned silently to yourself, hugging him back.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! The pizzas on the way, I already put the tip in. I will be back by 8 at the latest!”

“Take your time, I love hanging out with Yeona.” you reassured him.

He shot you an appreciative smile before leaning down and kissing Yeona on the cheek, then absentmindedly doing the same to you before rushing out the door. You stood frozen in place, staring at the closed door Hoseok had just exited from, shell shocked until Yeona tugged at your tights, forcing you to avert your attention to her and not your racing heart.

“Y/N, come play.”

“Oh! Right. I got you a present,” you dug into your purse and pulled out the shimmery bow, clipping it into her hair.

“Jojo!” she shrieked excitedly.

You giggled and followed along as she tugged you towards the mirror, surveying her new bow and twirling around like the diva she was.

“I look like a princess!” she said in awe, her eyes shining.

“You are a princess!”

Her chubby little cheeks tinged pink with glee and she pulled you into her room, deciding she wanted to play dress-up with her princess dresses and find the one that matched the bow the most. Mickey lay on her bed, looking up at you with curiosity and wagging his tail. You sat beside him and gently stroked his head, causing him to nuzzle into your touch.

You watched with amusement as Yeona tore apart her closet to find the best dress to go with her new bow, absentmindedly picking up the used dresses and hanging them back up for her. If she drug out her toys though, you’d make her pick those up. But she was just having so much fun you didn’t want to interrupt, and the clutter bothered you so you picked it up in between your choruses of “ooh I like that one” and “you look so pretty!”

The doorbell rang, causing Mickey to let out a protective bark and you soothed his fur down before standing to open the door. The man on the other side greeted you warmly, asking you to sign the receipt for the pizza, which you did, before wishing him a good night. You drooled a bit, smelling your favorite toppings that Hoseok had remembered to order.

“Yeona! Dinners here!” you called, grabbing two plates and setting the table.

Yeona came skipping into the kitchen, and you helped her climb into the booster seat on her favorite chair before placing a bib on her so she didn’t ruin her dress. You cut the pizza slice into more manageable pieces for Yeona to eat before sliding into your own chair, biting into the heavenly food. You groaned happily and Yeona giggled, eating hers with her little cartoon character utensils.

Putting the leftovers in the fridge to ensure Hoseok had a snack later, knowing he didn’t eat before rushing off to work, you continued to play with Yeona for about an hour or two before she started yawning and you checked the clock, realizing it was almost bedtime. You helped her clean up the toys and mess you’d both made before pulling out some pajamas for her and assisting her with brushing her teeth.

You tucked her into bed and she pulled on your sleeve, looking up at you with the sweetest puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Are you going to read me a story like daddy does?”

“I can! What do you want to read?”

“If you give a mouse a cookie!”

You grinned and grabbed the book off the shelf, leaning against the headboard next to Yeona and began reading.

“If a hungry little mouse shows up on your doorstep, you might want to give him a cookie. And if you give him a cookie, he'll ask for a glass of milk. He'll want to look in a mirror to make sure he doesn't have a milk mustache, and then he'll ask for a pair of scissors to give himself a trim…”

About halfway through the book, Yeona’s eyes started drifting closed, but her little hand reached out to hold onto your free one, and you looked down at her, setting the book down in your lap.

“I love you, Y/N,” Yeona mumbled, snuggling closer to the warmth of your body.

“I love you too, sweet girl,” you cooed, smoothing her hair out of her face with a tender touch.

“Wish you were my mommy.” she sighed, barely awake.

You didn’t move, didn’t breathe. You didn’t know how to respond, but thankfully she didn’t seem to be looking for one, her eyelids fluttering shut before you heard her soft, even breathing.

“Baby girl, I would never leave you behind if I were,” you whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear as you continued to stroke her hair, “I would take care of you, my love. I wish I was your mommy too.”

You watched her sleep for a little while longer, her precious face looking so peaceful and pure. You wondered how anyone could ever walk away from such a beautiful little girl. Stroking her hair one last time, you stood and placed the book back on the shelf, exiting the room with Mickey on your heels and slowly shutting the door.

You let him outside to use the bathroom and gave him a treat before settling into the couch with him in your lap, petting him absentmindedly as your thoughts raced with the events of the night. How Yeona had been so cute dressing up, had been so entertaining with the little tea party you’d both held, how she’d told you she wished you were her mom… How Hoseok had kissed your cheek, clearly not thinking about it, and doing it out of habit, but how it had sent your heart lurching out of your chest. Just as the thought of Hoseok had crossed your mind, the door opened and Hoseok rushed inside, quietly but profusely apologizing for being late.

“I am so sorry, the function ran over and I was on the cleanup crew so I couldn’t leave.” Hobi whisper-shouted.

“It’s fine, I had fun, I barely realized what time it was. Yeona’s asleep.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Hoseok gushed, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet and hold out some bills for you to take.

You looked up at him with one eyebrow arched, a sassy look on your face, and that had him putting the money away.

“Are you sure? I can pay you, I know you probably had other plans, it is Friday night after all.”

“Hobi, there is nowhere I would rather be, no matter what day of the week it is.” you smiled.

“You’re a god-send.” he groaned.

“It’s late, I should get going.” you smiled, seeing how exhausted he was and wanting to get out of his hair.

“Nooo, it’s too late for you to drive home alone. What if you fall asleep at the wheel? You should just stay. You can take my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your room. I can take the couch.”

“Are you thirsty? Want some wine?” he offered, walking backwards towards the kitchen.

“Sure.”

Hoseok grabbed two glasses of wine and the bottle, setting the objects on the coffee table in front of you and easing himself into the seat beside you, and you both sipped on the dark red liquid as you talked.

“I really am so thankful for your help tonight, all your help with Yeona. It’s not easy doing everything on my own. I know I have my parents and the guys, but sometimes I wonder if I’m giving her the best life or if I’m holding her back from having a happy family,” he sighed.

“Hobi, that little girl adores you, there is no one she’d rather have as her father.”

“I know, but is that what’s best for her? Doesn’t she need a mom?”

“She needs people who love her and support her, and she has that,” you comfort, rubbing his back soothingly, “she has you, the guys, her grandparents, me…”

“You’re right, thank you. I just get insecure sometimes, thinking she deserves better than… well, me.”

“Hobi, you’re an amazing dad! You’re so good with her, you’re raising her so well. She’s sweet and smart and well-behaved. She is so loved and it shows, because she displays love. You are a wonderful father, and you are more than enough.”

“Thank you, really. You always know just what to say. I’m so glad I met you, you’ve been so good to Yeona and I.” he smiled.

“I’m glad I met you too, you two are so important to me! I couldn’t imagine a life without you both in it.”

“...really?”

“Of course!” you immediately replied with conviction, holding onto Hoseok’s hand without realizing it.

Hands still in yours, Hoseok’s gaze lifted to meet your own, and you didn’t shy away like you’d immediately wanted to, wanting to both comfort him, and also look into his beautiful eyes for a moment more. You couldn’t believe Hoseok was insecure about his abilities to raise Yeona, he was the best father you’d ever seen,  one of the million things you’d come to love about him. His eyes flickered from yours to your lips momentarily, and he slowly leaned closer to your now-shivering frame.

“Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll back off,” he whispered as he closed the gap between your lips.

You didn’t say anything, instead opting to close the remaining distance yourself, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss. Hobi scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you against his body, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck. The kiss was sweet and tentative at first but quickly lit a fire inside your core, and somehow, you found yourself straddling his lap, grinding your core down on his semi-hard erection.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groaned, moving his kisses down to your neck, muttering into your skin, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too.” you admitted through breathless exhales, working your hips against his while he worked his lips against your skin.

You slipped your fingers under his shirt, feeling his stomach up to his nipples, grazing your nails gently across the buds, causing his body to jerk towards you. You smirked to yourself, lifting the shirt which he aided you in removing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his smooth, tan skin. You gently nudged him backwards until his head rested on the arm of the couch, and kissed your way down his torso until you reached the hem of his jeans.

Hoseok’s breath hitched as you undid his belt, looking up at him to make sure it was okay and he grinned at you, running his hand through your hair to gather it into a makeshift ponytail. You took that as an okay and slid his jeans and boxers down just enough to reveal his throbbing length, precum, leaking from the tip. You licked along the slit, gathering the precum on your tongue and swallowing, making a pleased noise in the back of your throat.

Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip and watching you lick a bold stripe along the underside, your hand reaching to cup his balls while you sunk down on his length, hollowing your cheeks around his throbbing member. Hoseok gripped your hair a little tighter in an attempt not to buck up into your mouth. You took him as deep as you could, letting the tip hit the back of your throat as you sucked him for dear life.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” he moaned helplessly, his grip on your hair loosening.

In response, you simply bobbed your head up and down faster, sucking harder on his length, using every trick you had to get him to his orgasm. Hoseok groaned, probably a little too loudly, before tapping the side of your cheek to warn you, but you didn’t pull away. Hoseok groaned, his back arching off the couch as he spilled his seed down your throat and you swallowed it all, licking your lips once you’d pulled off of his softening cock.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

You giggled and leaned up to peck his lips, which he returned with fervor, licking along your bottom lip and deepening the kiss, pulling you closer , letting your hips settle atop his while his mouth worked against your own.

“I really want to be inside you,” he groaned.

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you pleaded, grinding yourself on his length, and you felt it stir to life once more.

“Need to prep you.”

“No, I’m so fucking wet for you, I’m ready,” you groaned, lifting yourself off of him to shed your panties from under your skirt, bunching it up around your hips and lining your entrance with his now-erect penis.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, sinking down on his member and groaning at the way he stretched your walls, the slight burn being aided by the amount of arousal that had pooled in your cunt, allowing his length to slip into your inviting heat with minimal resistance. Hoseok bit down on his arm, holding in a moan at the feeling of your wet cavern wrapped around his cock so perfectly.

Hoseok’s hands came to rest on your hips, guiding your pace as you bounced on his cock, riding him with enthusiasm, your walls clenching around him each time the tip of his cock kissed that special spot inside you. Hoseok lifted his hips to meet yours, keeping time with your thrusts and you bit down on your lip to hold in a moan.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?” you wondered, swiveling your hips down on him.

“Every night since I met you,” he admitted.

“Fuck, Hobi. Me too. Want you so bad,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? You want Daddy to fill you up? Want me to fill this pretty pussy with my seed? Fuck a baby into you?” he growled and you clenched at the words.

“Yes, fuck.”

“Mmm, you like that? Wanna be filled with Daddy’s cum? Wanna see it drip out of that tight little pussy.” he groaned, speeding up his thrusts.

“Hobi, yes,” you whined, his dirty words spurring you closer to your release, “close.”

“Me too, baby. Come on, cum for me,” he urged, leaning up to bring one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your orgasm crashed over you the moment his tongue ran over the sensitive bud. You held your breath to keep from crying out as Hoseok worked you through your high, reaching his before you had finished yours, the feeling of his warm seed filling your battered hole making your orgasm even more intense.

Coming down from your highs, you lifted your hips to allow his length to slip out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your sex, running down your leg and his. Hoseok groaned at the sight, pulling you into his chest. You snuggled up to him for a moment before you both got up to clean up, him assisting you by gently running a damp rag along your folds and you running it along his leg to clean up the mess you’d both made.

You pulled your clothes back on and Hoseok grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom and offering you a t-shirt to sleep in. You weren’t sure he would want you to stay, but you were thankful he did. And not on the couch. After changing into Hobi’s clothes and cuddling up to him, his arm wrapped around your middle, you felt at ease. Hobi was the first to break the silence.

“Please tell me this means you’ll be mine,” he whispered against the skin of your neck while placing little kisses along the skin there.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine,” you answered, leaning down to capture his lips with yours.

One year later 

Pushing the key in the lock of your brand new house, you opened the door and looked around the foyer, and heard little footsteps running through the hall, a sweet giggle echoing.

“Mommy! You’re home!” Yeona grinned, launching herself into your arms, and you spun her around, holding her close to your chest.

“I’m home, baby girl. How was your day?”

“It was good! I missed you though, you and my baby sister!” she grinned, her tiny, chubby hand caressing your plump belly.

“We missed you too, pumpkin. Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s in his office, he’s been boring today, but he did take a break to play with me. He doesn’t play dress up like you do, you’re more fun,” she whined, clutching at your neck.

“Hmmm, how about we play a little before dinner then?”

She squealed excitedly, wiggling out of your grasp and running to her room. You followed behind her, leaning up against Hoseok’s office door on the way.

“Hey, handsome.”

Hoseok looked up, immediately standing and walking up to you, his hand gently caressing your baby bump while he pressed his lips to yours.

“Welcome home, baby. And baby,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, pecking his cheek.

“Yeona says you’re boring and don’t play dress up the right way,” you smirked, mocking him.

Hoseok groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes dramatically before his smile reached his eyes as he softly said, “Well, it’s a good thing we have you.”

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S3 ep5

Current emotional status: FEAR

Cthulu Max has been on the rampage for a whole week!?

Ew, the narrator

Oh man, are they sending the airforce after him?

I really like Cthulu Max's design

Momma Bosco 💗

Oh hey, Norrington and Papierwaite are alive.

Superball are you saying you tried to send the Maimtrons up Max's--

Also he's acting president while Max is... deposed of.

Superball is only giving Sam until 6am :(

Featherly!

"Wandering around the moleman tunnels is no fun without Max."

"You got it all wrong, we're trying to help Max." "We will help him... to a generous serving of ass whooping."

"That is one rabbit who will be multiplied... into 2,000 smoldering pieces."

Carol ran off with Blustet

"I only want her to be happy, is all." Aw, Curt

Superball just admitted to having separation anxiety from Max

Ok Momma can't come but Papierwaite and Norringron can.

I like Norrington :)

GASP

Is it?

It is!

SYBIL!!!!

RETURN OF THE QUEEN

Oh, she is very pregnant

She was a wizard at one point?

She's gonna help!

Superball there's no such thing as acceptable losses

Abe has his body back

"Four score and seven tons of raw power"

HE CAN FLY NOW!?

Sybil, I love you, but why did you mod someone else's car???

Grandpa Stinky I love you

Oh, he just handed us the recipe for once.

Asdfff the spore maxes swarming Grandpa

They stole Grandpa's hotdogs

"We must feed the host! Piglets and sphinkters make us stronger!" "We regret nothing!"

Grandpa hasn't slept in three years

Sam just casually taking the last of Grandpa's corndogs

The spores are trying to get it

Lol Sam slapped them

Sal's alive!

He's hiding from Sam :(

Lol we can control Cthulu Max with Corndogs

Ew, the cornstarch got mixed in with the giant puddle 🤢 Looks gross

Love how Sybil completely ignores the Flaming Max head

Also the look of disappointment on the spore's face made me laugh

Fifth trimester???

The way the one Max spore by Grandpa's truck is bobbing in circles with his mouth open is making me laugh.

Sam showing concern for Sybil because she’s preggers 🥺

Her being pregnant with Abe's child implies that statues have working genital in this universe

She put a weiner scented airfreshener in the desoto

At least Sam and a Max spore seem to like that (of course they do)

"Sybil you're the best!" Hell yeah she is!

Sam's mind went to the color bar codes to prevent being traumatized by Sybil's oversharing

We drowned the desoto

Asdfgh Sam just botched slapped one of the spores for trying to say "that's none of your damn buisness."

Ew, Max's spine is pointing out

Oh hey, Satan and Jurgen

Why is Jurgen wearing his old fashioned clothes instead of his emo clothes?

Lol Sam snuck into frame to shout "Go Mets! New York rules!"

"--besides it's just a good and noble thing to do." "You're not familiar with my previous work, are you?"

"Sam, what happened to you to make you so cynical?" Gee, Jurgen, I wonder what could have possibly happened.

Oh so the water tower counts as vegetable oil because Momma did something to it

Pfft we can replace Satan's microphone with a corndog

Omg they jumped off the building to avoid Max

Oh, they're fine, and the oil is in the giant puddle.

I'm thankful to Featherly for giving us an egg but I'd have preferred not to watch him lay it. Granted it was just in a cartoon way but he still made weird noises

Also TRANS FEATHERLY 2021

"I desperately wanted to see that, sir. Ask him if he'll lay another one."

Oh hey, the Flaming Max heads helped heat up the giant desoto corndog

Since I'm playing this in 2021 the Maimtron's song references are super dated, which defeats Superball's efforts

Oooh! A unique opening sequence???

Oh this music is jazzy af

Sam really doesn't like the Max spores

Sam how do you already know what Max's insides look like???

"Even when he's not a collasal monster Max's food comas can last for weeks."

Ok we wake Max up with the coffee beans, right?

Yup!

The gi Max spore is so sad he doesn't get to come 😢

"But I'm a horrible monster!"

"I suppose Max's brain always looks like a living room?" "Well, Max is host to all kinds of weird parasites, and he likes to he a good host!" WHAT

No really, this brings up so many questions about lagomorphs. Are they some kind of Symbiote or something?

And a previous episode confirmed Max is amphibious

Max has tumors!!!

It shocked Sam!

"Eugh! Get away fake Max!" "Do you find my warmth... alarming, Sam?"

"What do nightmares taste like, anyway?" "Pepsi"

Max wants to be author 💗

He also writes fanfiction about Flint 🤣

I'd unironically read his books.

Tina Belcher voice: Friend fiction

Max has an experimental fusion jazz band???

"He just killed a great white shark--"

Max being completely unable to describe a woman is very gay of him. Good for him.

Max's brain teleported everyone to different parts of the body.

Found Sybil in the gym/legs

The brain is broadcasting Sam's thoughts???

Sam couldn't think of a joke for the medicine balls :(

"Wow Max is looking pretty buff. Would it be too weird if I asked him to turn around?"

Sam! Stop thinking bad things about Sybil's pregnancy she can hear you you putz!

She's upset with him now

"Can you believe this guy?" "I find the entire situation to be very contrived and misogynistic." Same spore Max, same.

Sam stop being so mean omg!

"I changed Sybil, I totally get the whole parenthood thing now." "Really now?" "Tax deductions."

In Max's inventory now

Y'know, I never really thought about it as a storage house

Hit The Road reference :3

Baby roach hatched in

"Pa..papa?" "Now I am little champion, now I am!"

Max has a Maximus shrine

Sam turned into a roomba!

Aw, he named it Sam Jr 🥺

We won Sybil back through his love of Sam Jr

Found the conjoined twins

Huh, Max lost as eye. Does that mean he has a glass one, or do lagomorphs have regenerative abilities?

Pfft we have to play twister to control his arma

The brain is messing with things again

Oh, we need a roach to operate the game because of radiation

Well, let's kidnap Sal

Oh, poor Girl Stinky. She's really going through it

Aw, Sal feels bad

Sal?

Honey, are alright?

He's dying???

He's not immune to irradiation!?

Oh no, he's gone

I'm so sad 😞

Gotta pick up Sam Jr. Before I control Max

They mad Max do a magical girl pose

Ugh the narrator is back

Wait, what?

He's Max's brain??? SUPEREGO???

WHAT

"I was always ignored" Yo if my super ego was as pretentious as you I 'd ignore it too 😤

He wants to kill himself and Max???

I know Max had a self loathing complex but holy shit

The super ego is perfectly fine with destroying half the east coast what a jerk

Just noticed Sam's tie is red. Had no idea about this while drawing PI!Sam lol

We have to help Max get his memories back to use the ASTRO projector

Skunkapes has three Sam clones imprisoned

Sam had canon ocd?

Gasp Gordon???

No, it's Sammun Mak

I love him, little child tyrant

Just make him a mobile brain in a jar and let Sam and Max adopt him

Why is Grandpa here?

He isn't talking like Stinky

Too polite

Sam sees it too

He's a space gorilla

They switched brains?

Found the cloning g chamber

Let's go to Momma's first

CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME

Superball is "wracked with guilt"

"Keep it together Superball. Sam will be able to save the day. He always does."

Ok, let's go to the cloning facility

I'm still thinking about poor Sal yo

FLIIIIIINT!

He's punching space apes!

Girl Stinky really playing up the evil Mistress role

The doggleganger has a bomb on him!!!

Wait so Girl really is a mermaid??? I thought that was just her aestetic

God I love Flint

Haha we tricked Skunkape with scooby doo villain tactics

Got the robot

Her water broke... and it was pennies

Max wants to save Sybil! 😭🥺💕

Super Ego is here

Oh now he wants to save Max

The only thing here are those records

Super Ego waved goodbye

Cthulu Max is cute when he cries

Wait What?

His head is on fire!

The maimtron hit him!

He waved goodbye... and teleported away.

He exploaded!!!!

He promised he'd take Sam with him and he didn't!!!!

AAAAAAH

I thought the dead Max thing was popular angst fanon fic thingy!

We're cloning Max?

It didn't work 😭😭😭😭😭

Superball ran off crying

Oh God the credits are just Sam walking sadly what the hell

He's not even stopping to fight any crime 😢

💔💔💔

God the way he's clinging to himself

What?

The elevator???

MAAAAX

he's back???

Past Max???

He blew his Sam up???

Wait hold on I'm glad they're together again but this doesn't fix anything

There's so much trauma from this season

All the horrible things that happened during 301-304 happened in like 3 days tops, then Sam had to deal with Max being a monster for a week before watching him die!

And the new (?) Max had BLOW HIS SAM UP!!!

And they left the franchise like that for a decade????

What the hell?

I want to be happy but this shit is going to consume my brain for the next week at least what the hell

Aaaaaaah!

Like maybe they really do just brush it off but it feels unlikely

I know Max has a connection with his other selves so it'll be easier for him to adjust but certainly Sam is going to notice the discrepancies since he doesn't get the same deal

Someone told me there were multiple endings hold on

Aw, they walked off into the sunrise together

But still

AAAAAAAAH

[nataliedanovelist]

GF & MvsM - Wanna Talk About Dinos?

This crossover was inevitable. It just works too well. Maybe one day i’ll write a fic about how the folks at Gravity Falls handled the robot-apocalypse. Probably shrugged it off. “Eh. We’ve had worse.” Haha! What if Stan and Ford, cuz they were out sailing, had no clue what happened and when they came back they were like, “Wait, what?”

For now, please enjoy this fic of Aaron making a new friend...

(credit goes to @stephreynaart for her OC Jacob) ~~~~~~~~~~ “Hi, would you like to talk to me about dinosaurs?”

Aaron asked this question more times than he could keep track of, but that wasn’t going to stop him from asking it. It started as a dare from his big sister two years ago, but now it’s a fun hobby. When fifth grade isn’t overwhelming him, scaring him with mountains of homework and horror stories about how hard middle school is going to be, and when he’s run out of YouTube videos to catch up on, he is on the hunt for fellow giant-lizard-lovers like a hungry Ceratosaurus.

“No, okay bye.” But it did get a little tiring to always cross out names and phone-numbers on the phone book with red ink. Hey, a dinosaur of a way to find phone-numbers was appropriate. He read the next number, dialed it, and after a ring or two he asked, “How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs? No, okay thank you.”

Aaron crossed out another name and sighed, taking a break since he reached the end of a line of numbers. Maybe he should just be grateful for Abbey and accept that no one else wants to talk about the Jurassic Period. Or the Cretaceous Period. Or the Triassic Period. But then a big, old, gray-tinted ad distracted him. He grinned, thinking it would at least be fun to give them a call, and he dialed the number.

Private home phone-numbers were fun, but businesses were also fun! Poor, bored workers would gladly talk to him rather than crabby Karens, and they got paid for it! So Aaron smiled as the phone rang, and he grinned when someone picked up.

“Thanks for calling the Mystery Shack, you’re talking to Mr. Mystery himself! How may I befuddle or bewilder you?”

“Hi! How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs?”

“Oh, dude! I’d love to, but I’m scheduled for a tour of the Oddity Museum in three minutes.” The man said, and Aaron grinned continuously, because it sounded like Mr. Mystery really wanted to talk with him about dinosaurs. “But hey! Can you hold on for one minute, I think I know a guy!”

“Yeah, sure mister!” And Aaron was greeted by the sound of a catchy jingle about buying t-shirts and mugs and snowglobes. He smiled and wiggled his feet along to the music as he looked outside at the beautiful late-fall afternoon, entertained while he waited.

~~~~~~~~~~

Soos was on the hunt. He planned out the house in his head. Abuelita was taking a nap upstairs, Melody was organizing the upcoming tour, and Stan took Jacob out for ice cream, so he might be…

The owner of the Shack grinned when he stopped at the doorway and saw the man he was looking for, sitting in Stan’s chair, reading a book.

“Uncle Ford!”

The old sailor smiled up at the young man. “Yes, wh-...”

“Do you think you could answer the phone for me? I have a tour and I think this customer’s request is right up your alley.”

“Uh… sure, but w-...”

“Thanks, you’re the best!” And Soos was gone before he could address Ford’s confusion.

Ford was a bit lost, having little to no business with business, but he had learned at this point to trust Soos, so he picked up the phone beside him and was immediately greeted with a sweet, “How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs?”

Ford grinned and closed his book. “I would love to! All three periods are equally as fascinating to study, but the Triassic contains some of my favorite dinosaurs!”

A young voice gasped on the other line. “Mine, too! Everyone thinks the Jurassic period is so great, and it’s pretty cool, but the Triassic gave us Plateosaurus and the Brachiosaurus!”

“That’s very true! You know, it’s very interesting, maybe depictions don’t include feathers at all, which is a bit frustrating, but perhaps after the news has spread they will incorporate more feathers on merchandise and textbooks.”

“YES! That’s what I wanna do when I grow up, help draw better-accurate dinosaurs!”

~~~~~~~~~~

The phone rang on Sunday. The Shack was closed today, so Stan lazily answered it and was greeted with, “Wanna talk about dinosaurs?”

“Sixer, phone for you!”

Ford ran into the living room, elbowed his twin out of the chair, and took the phone. “Hello again, Aaron! Now, where were we? Right, so Australopithecus. … No, I don’t think… Oh! No, homo habilis was erect, Australopithecus was never fully erect.”

“Maybe he was nervous.” Stan groaned, getting to his feet.

Ford shot him a look as thankfully the young boy on the other end didn’t catch that and happily shared some more fun-facts about homo habilis.

~~~~~~~~~~

While most college students were excited for Spring Break so they could get drunk or lose their virginity, Katie was excited because her family had planned a special secret roadtrip. She was careful to keep up with her family and talk to her parents and brother frequently, but Aaron had a hobby he wasn’t talking about that his parents found out and were thrilled about. Aaron had made another friend.

Rick and Katie did some research and the tourist attraction sounded right up their alley! In the middle of the woods, tons of weird stuff, and a fun roadtrip filled with diners and attractions. They decided to surprise Aaron, and they made up a lie that they would spend Spring Break in California with Katie so she could show her family around San Francisco, when in actuality they would be traveling up the state to the Redwood Highway and see the oddity place, and maybe even allow Aaron to meet his new pen-pal. Or, um, phone-pal.

So after bombarding Katie with hugs the Mitchells threw her luggage into the car and drove off. Aaron turned to Katie and excitingly asked, “So where are we going first? Can we go fix the Golden Gate bridge by painting it gold?”

Katie laughed and ruffled his hair. “Maybe later, right now I wanna show you guys this fun store right outside of town. Here, check out the videos I made for my classes!” And she pulled out some airpods and gave one to Aaron.

“Cool!”

Rick and Linda smirked at each other as they drove north. By the time they reached a little diner in Redding, CA, it was very clear to Aaron that they weren’t in San Francisco anymore. “Come on, just tell me where we’re going!” The boy begged as he fed Monchi a fry.

“The best kind of prizes are the surprises.” Linda quoted.

“Eric, Deborahbot5000, where are we going?”

“Sorry, Aaron, we cannot give that information.” Eric said, he and the other robot sitting politely in their seats, happy to be a part of the social interaction.

“Yes, Mother will bury us if we disobey.” Deborahbot said matter-of-factly.

“What?! No I won’t, sweeties.”

“Won’t you ground us?”

The family laughed and Aaron let the topic go; if he was honest, he loved a good surprise. The big family stopped in a motel just at the California-Oregon border, and the next morning after muffins and coffee and orange juice they were on the road again, passing dozens of trees that made Rick feel at home. Katie happily recorded the trip, trusted to be the documenter for another fun roadtrip, with hopefully not as much mortal peril.

Aaron watched as they left the highway for a simple road, and they passed a big sign. The boy gasped and caught what was happening. “No WAY! Really?!”

“You know, I hear this Mystery Shack even has a Sasquatch.” Rick commented while Linda pulled out a pamphlet from the glove box.

“It says here it’s full of odd things you’ll never see anywhere else, even a dinosaur footprint…”

“Wasn’t there a rumor of there being a Bottomless Pit?” Katie asked, pointing her camera at Aaron to get his reaction.

“Thank you thank you THANK YOU!!!” Aaron cheered, hugging his Dad’s neck and kissing his Mom’s cheek.

“Hey, no worries, buddy.” Rick eased, fixing his shewed glasses. “We wanted to see this place, too!”

“Why don’t we eat a quick lunch and then we’ll take the backroad for the attraction? There’s a coupon in here for a diner made from a giant log!”

And so after being served by a pretty blonde teenager at Greasy’s, they drove through town to get to the backroad. Signs made them confident that they were going the correct way, as well as Eric and Deborahbot5000’s GPS. Then as they turned a corner, a big triangle-shaped building came into view. Aaron grinned at the giant sign with a missing letter. People were already leaving, arms full of souvenirs and one or two already wearing their new hats or t-shirts. Once Rick parked in the Free Parking Lot, Aaron spilled out of the car and ran for the shack, but he stopped.

Katie caught up to him and patted his back. “You cool, man?”

Aaron shrugged, holding his hands in front of him and his shoulders up to hide his face a bit. “I-I dunno… What if… What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Hey, I get it.” Katie admitted. “When I first met my friends I was really nervous. I had talked to them online for weeks and I was worried it wasn’t gonna be what it was all cracked up to be, but it was. Your system worked! You found another dino-lover! You earned this moment. Just take in a deep breath and be yourself, cuz you’re a pretty cool dude.”

Aaron smiled up at his big sister. “Thanks.”

Trusting Eric and Deborahbot5000 to watch Monchi and make sure he used the bathroom, the Mitchells went inside the shack. On the porch there was an ice cooler, a sign reading schedule times for tours of the Oddity Museum, a Help Wanted sign, and two rocking chairs with a game of checkers between them.

Inside the store a few customers filled up the gift shop, alongside t-shirts, snowglobes, a vending machine, a door beside ti that read Employees Only, a bookshelf full of comic on one side and old newspapers claiming alien sightings on the other, a fish tank holding a monkey-mermaid, and barrels full of spaceship keychains and dino claws. A new section called Camping Stuff caught Rick’s eye, selling backpacks, lanterns, flashlights, batteries, canteens, and compasses. Katie opened a comic called Lil’Stanley and laughed at the swears, taking a pic and sending it to her friends’ group chat. Linda looked into the barrel full of patches and grinned at all the fun designs, while Aaron stared happily at the mer-monkey.

The Employees Only door opened and closed and Rick watched as a man in a suit, fez, and eyepatch walked up to the lady at the register and kissed her cheek. The woman smiled lovingly and left while the guy who resembled a gopher checked a customer out. Rick waited until the buyer left to approach the register, leaning an arm on the counter.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack, dude!”

“Thanks! So, this is gonna sound weird, but my son Aaron talks to a guy here about dinosaurs…”

“No way!” The owner interrupted excitedly. “Good to see you, dudes! I’m Mr. Mystery! Wow, you guys came a long way, huh?”

“Nah, only from California. My daughter is attending art school there.”

While the men chit-chatted and Linda joined them, Katie noticed a guy walking up to Aaron and looking at the mer-monkey. She smiled and tried to read the comic without being too nosy, but she kept her senses on her brother.

“Hm, quite fascinating, isn’t it?” The man in the blue hoodie said. “But I think my favorite is the fossilized footprint. Could be Nanuqsaurus hoglundi.”

“The Polar Bear Lizard?” Aaron clarified, touching his chin as he looked at the dino-print, his back to the man he was talking to. “Maybe, but they’re from Alaska. It’s possible plate tectonics did cause some fossils to be relocated here, but it could also be a Nanotyrannosaurus lancensis footprint.”

“The Dwarf Tyrant? Could very well be. Would you like to talk about dinosaurs after your tour?”

Aaron’s eyes widened as the voice was finally familiar to him. He turned and looked up to find an old man smiling up at him. He had fluffy gray hair with a white stripe running around his scalp, wrinkles by his eyes due to smiling, a cleft chin, glasses, and wore a blue hoodie with a maroon sweater underneath. His hands were behind his back and he smiled down at Aaron warmly, while the boy was jittery and overly-excited. He took in a sharp breath and had to fight every muscle to keep from leaping through the screen door. 

“H-H-Hi…” He peeped. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Y-Yeah, sure! I’d love to! I’m Aaron! Er, wait, you already knew that.” And he held out a hand to shake.

His phone-pal, Ford, chuckled and got on one knee to be eye-level. “Greeting, Aaron! It’s nice to formally meet you.”

Aaron shook his hand and noticed something. He had six fingers on his right hand. A quick glance told Aaron he also had six fingers on his left hand. Aaron grinned with sparkling eyes at his new friend, while the old sailor smiled warmly at the boy that reminds him of his niece and nephew when they were young.

[vemuabhi]

Disney Romance - Mermaid Mullan! - 200 followers special

Thankyou for requesting Bas!!! ( @basilisa-scorpii​ ) I was a bit nervous writing this! As you are one of my favorites and are so talented. Actually i too didn’t watch many movies. Only those 10 that I mentioned. My friend was in disbelief when I told her that I didn’t watch frozen. Apparently it was a big deal for her as he almost watched every Disney princess movie.

So, its my first fic writing for the 200 followers! Please read it without having any high expectations. I may not reach them.

Pairing : Zoro X Mermaid! Reader

Word count : 3.6K (Sorry, the concept was so interesting and I couldn’t stop)

Warnings : A long ass fic written by me, read at your own risk. CRINGE ALERT!, has magic, bad action scenes, happy ending or else I’ll cry, a lost marimo.

“Tsk… Lucky mermaids. They just get to go and play while I have to learn these stupid spells”, you opened the new book of spells, which had a brown cover and was very heavy. The cover had a design of a mermaid.

You started to read the spells. Being born in the clan of spells mermaid, you always thought that you were one of those unlucky mermaids who can’t just play with the fishes. You were a very young mermaid and didn’t understand the importance of them.

Growing up, these spells always helped to escape from so many troubles. You could even go to the land using these spells. Hiding your scales and turing your tail into legs.

One fine day in the ocean, while you were making preparations to go to the land, a white-haired half – octopus approached you. ‘Not again’, you sighed.

“What now Ursula? I need to leave”, Without hiding your irritation, you asked her.

“Y/N going to the land again? Why won’t you use my help? I’ll turn you into a human then you don’t have to rely on your powers and get weak every time”, she said as she twirled around you.

There are many powers that can be mastered in the spell book and your main power being in Teleporting but you did learn many other spells, including turning your tail into legs. But every thing has a counter action. The more demanding the spell, the more of a toll it pays on your body by making you weak, leading to even death. Taking your real mermaid form and taking rest in the ocean can help you regain your power.

“The princess asked me for legs and I gave her what she needed”

“The princess? Why did she ask you for legs?”

“Love, she was in love with a man, are you also in love?”

“No and I’d never do that for a silly thing as Love”

“But, you are going to Land using your powers. Aren’t you tired of it dear”

You sighed at how she never gave up on you. “Why? So that you can take my spell book or my family sapphire stone?”, your eyebrow raised with annoyance. She gulped and tried to open her mouth to say something but too late. You weren’t interested in listening to her so you snapped your fingers and Teleported to land.

You didn’t like to teleport when people were talking but you didn’t want to listen to her toxic convincing again. Like hell you needed her powers. You’d rather lose your powers then to give her your spell book or the sapphire stone, which was now, in the necklace you were wearing. It was also called as the second chance.

You went to the small house mostly made of stones. It was just had 2 rooms. You opened the box which you found in the ruined ship and wore the male clothes which were in it. After coming to the land you observed that, most of the men would be creepy when you were wearing women clothing, which lead you to throw those men away. When you wore men clothing, no one glanced at you. And you didn’t get the chance to waste your powers. So you preferred to be dressed as a man.

You took the gold coin which was actually the last one you had in the box. ‘I need to find a way to stock these’, you thought as you started to make your way into the town. Apparently, these people got super mad at you when you ate and tried to leave. They called this… money? If you remember correctly.

At first it was pure curiosity what the Land was of. But after being addicted to the food here, you couldn’t help but to come back regularly. While in the sea all it was available was sea weed and raw food. It was good but it wasn’t even comparable with the food on land. The humans had some tasty food called fruits. And they were of different varieties like mango, orange, apple, berries etc. Oh, how delicious the meat was, when it was cooked. So, you kept coming here using your powers. The food was worth it!

You headed towards the place where the old humans make food, you were their favorite customer as you always gave them a gold coin every time you visited. They were poor and the gold you gave them, helped them to even get out of the debts. You reached the place and started to eat while some people quarreled. But you didn’t care. All you looked at was the food before you. You were always given a small size powerless trident and a small sword with it. You didn’t know why they were used.

“HEY IDIOT! ARE YOU THE ONE WHO ALWAYS GIVES GOLD COINS? GIVE THEM TO ME”, someone shouted but you were too busy in eating.

“Sir please, leave our customer. That man is being very kind to us old people”, pleaded the old man but he didn’t care.

“You jerk! Why the hell are you ignoring me?”, some one slammed their hand on your table making your apple almost fall down. ‘Unforgiveable’

You glared at the man beside you as he grabbed you by the collar and pulled you up, just before he punched you, you snapped your fingers and he froze in his place. He couldn’t move. You clenched your fist and punched him in the face making him fly across the room.

Everyone stopped doing what they were doing and looked at you in disbelief. The person you punched was a strong guy who always took peoples valuables. A green haired soldier was totally stunned. ‘A person this strong was in a small town like this’, he thought. He went towards the person who was trashed by you and noticed that he was knocked out. ‘It seemed a bit different but, that guy can help a lot’, he thought. The soldier turned around to look at you but you were already leaving.

Placing the money which was required to pay on the desk, the green haired man ran in your direction. “Hey dude!! Wait a minute!”, he called to you. But you were busily eating the apple which had the pretty red colour.

‘I need to get more of these golden coins. Maybe the ship which crashed in the western side has some of these’, making plans on how to get more of these, you walked towards the shore.

You then felt a hand on your shoulder which made you to stop. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes met with black orb. The man had green hair and a scar on one of his eyes. He was muscular and well built. He had three golden coloured earrings on one of his ears.

“Hey dude! I wanna talk to you”, he said removing his hand from your shoulder. You took a bite of your apple and turned towards him. You raised one of your eye brow at him as you folded your arms.

“I am so amazed that a powerful man like you is in this small town. Actually, seeing you fight that rogue, I wanted to ask you if you’d come to the war and be a soldier, like me”, he said with a proud smile.

After listening to the weird man, You turned around and started to walk towards the shore. His smile curved into an awkward one as you walked away. “HEY!! I’m NOT DONE! LISTEN TO ME ONCE”, trying to stop you he shouted again. But as his attempts failed, he ran again and stood before you blocking your way. You glared at him because of it.

“Listen to me. I mean no harm. I’m Zoro, a solider of the Straw Hat army”, he introduced himself as he took your hand and shook it. ‘What… What a weird man’, you thought looking at him.

“You see, we want to use all the help needed to destroy the beard Kingdom. So, come with us and be a soldier of the Straw hat army”, he said.

“Why do I need to fight for your army. I don’t wanna involve in these fights”, you said sternly, speaking for the first time to the man.

“Why not? Just join us. We are fighting on the good side. We wanna give freedom to the people of beard Kingdom”, he inhaled and continued, “If you join I’ll make sure you get good food and 500 pure gold coins”. He was really determined to win the war and also claimed that he wanted to free some people.

You could get the gold coins from many ruined ships, but the way he looked at you with determination to win in eyes you couldn’t help but to sigh. “Let’s meet here tomorrow at exactly at dawn”, with that you continued to walk towards the shore.

“I never caught your name”

“Its Y/N”, you say without turning around but smirked. He was the first human you ever told your name to.

His eye clearly lit up and he grinned as he said, “I’ll waiting, Y/N”. He didn’t notice that his heart definitely did skip a beat then.

Swimming deep into the ocean, you reached your house with in 10 minutes. Before sleeping, you took the spell book and started to refer it again even though you’ve read it multiple times. You still had 12 hours till dawn and it’s be sufficient amount of time till you regain your energy.

As the first rays of sun hit the country, Zoro looked at how beautiful the sea looked. He was mesmerized by its beauty.

“Hey”, you almost startled him. 

“What the… when did you come here? How did I not notice?”, he said with confusion in his eyes.

“Lets go now”

“Ye…Yeah. Let’s go”, he said leading you forward. ‘This person is hiding something’, he thought

“Hey”, you call him as he turned to look at you.

“Why are you going towards the sea?”, as soon as you said that, his cheeks turned red with embarrassment.

“Don’t tell me you don’t even know the rout-”

“I know!”, he said interrupting you and opening the map. You peaked at the map and then looked at him. He was sweating.

“Give, just give it to me”, you took the map and continued, “So where is the location”

“Here”, he pointed towards a white surface on the map. “If we go quickly-”, you tooe his hand in yours and closed your eyes, “We can reach in maybe 5 days”, he ended as you snapped your fingers. He just looks at the place before him. Your eyes open wide upon seeing the white substance in front of you. Your hands hug you as the place was very cool but you were truly in awe by the view.

But Zoro was actually speechless. “What? How? Why? When? Its not even been 5 seconds”, he screamed and continued, “What are you actually? Are you using some sort of Magic?”, he then sneezed.

“I used a spell. Now don’t make a fuss about it. Anyone can do it”, you replied

“NO ONE CAN DO IT!”, he screamed again only for you to ignore.

“What is this white substance”, you asked him as you slowly crouch down and touch it. It was soft and very cold, Making your hand numb. But you were amazed by it.

“Its snow. Don’t do that, your hands will become numb”, he said and took your hands in his and started to rub them. You heart skipped a beat and you didn’t know why.

“Lets go. I think, I know the way from here”, he said and pulled you up with him. With your hands still in his he walked forward. Even though your knees felt weak, you kept walking. He talked about the prince and how great he was.

After 10 minutes, you both saw some men with weapons in the area. With one swift motion, Zoro attacked them and knocked them out. You were actually surprised. You didn’t even notice when he left your side and attacked them. He held three swords at a time. You never saw a person so perfectly using three swords. Oh god, he looked like a demon. He pulled the clothes from those men and handed you one. “Wear this sweater. I don’t want you to get sick”

You wore it and it felt really warm all of a sudden.

“Woah!! Its so warm, fells like Magic”, you smile pulling the sweater even closer to you.

“Tsk… you call this magic and call your spell normal. I cant understand you”, he again took your hand in his. “Don’t… Don’t get it wrong. Its only because I brought you here so its my responsibility to keep you safe”. You place your thumb on his wrist and observe that his heart beat was increasing.

“Your heart beat is increasing”, you said making him glare at you.

After walking for a while, you notice a building ahead of you. It was black in colour and had black smoke coming out from it. Suddenly Zoro stops in his tracks.

“Is it the secret base of straw-hat kingdom, you were talking about”, you asked him.

“It’s the secret base of Beard Kingdom that we are searching for past 1 month. Oh my! We found it Y/N”, he said with a smirk on his face. You snapped your fingers and made the black smoke red hoping someone from the straw hat base see it.

“No, you found it. I just waked with you. What type of shit directions you have”

“Hey! That’s not true. I… I actually was planning to search this with you. But whatever we found it!”, he grinned looking at the building.

“Don’t tell me you wanna take them on all by yourse-”

“What are you saying? I have you now! Let’s kill them Y/N”, he said taking his swords and positioning them. He was a demon. But your heart started to race. It was because of this jerk.

“Ok! Lets go”, you said and silently you both infiltrated the base. Knocking out who ever came across your way.

‘Damn it. There are a lot of people here’, you thought as your breathing became heavy and your legs gave out.

“Y/N, you okay?”, Zoro whispered getting close to you.

“I’m fine”, you said. This wasn’t the time to wine and you knew it.

“Thankyou. Its dawn and everyone are mostly sleeping. So lets just finish this off and leave”, he said as he placed his hand behind your waist and in one swift motion he pulled you up. Your heart skipped a beat. AGAIN. ‘This is just like the useless romance novels I read’, you thought. ‘Do I like him by any chance?’

“Lets go”, he said facing the opposite direction that you actually should go.

“We need to go this way”, you said to him as he blushed and walked in the correct direction. ‘Definitely not’, you concluded and continued to trash the soldiers in the way. You were late once and a bullet hit your shoulder. Still you didn’t give up.

“Y/N! I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to get you treated by our doctor”, Zoro shouted as he slashed another person, who was twice as big as him.

After a while, you knew, you really needed the ocean. Your body was getting weaker. Teleporting to a really far place with another person, being hit by a bullet and continuously knocking out these strong ass soldiers is really getting hectic.

“You did great Y/N, its okay. Leave now, ill take care of the rest!”, Zoro said but you got determined even more to fight.

“What? I don’t take orders, especially from humans. Lets see who gets more knockouts”, you said. Zoro didn’t know if he should be happy that you didn’t give up or be concerned that you called him a human? So were you not one?

Snapping fingers, you teleported Zoro from one enemy to another and sometimes yourself to win over the enemies. Your shoulder was turning into a shade of purple, but you were too busy to notice. He soon got used to your help. “You make one hell of a partner!”, Zoro said looking at you as he stood on a pipe which was approximately 10 feet above you. You smirked as a big sound made you to look at the strong wooden door.

“WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE!”, A man with a big beard shouted. You snapped your fingers and Zoro was beside you in a second.

“That’s Beard. We need to destroy him”, Zoro mumbled as he proceeded to run further. You were ready to go with him but your vision completely became black and you fell to the ground.

“Y/N!”, Zoro called out to you but you didn’t wake up. You could hear him. You wanted tell him to escape. Then you heard an explosion.

“BEARD!!! I’LL KICK YOUR ASS!!”, an unfamiliar voice was heard.

“Jeez Luffy! Could you hold your horses?”

“NAMI!!!! I’m Scared!”

“Shut up Ussop! We need to protect the peopl- Ladies! *ahem*”

That was too late. Luffy was already fighting with Beard at this point. With the prince fighting, all Straw hat soldiers started to fight with Beard Army.

“Y/N! Y/N Wake up!! Please wake up!”, Zoro took your body in his arms and shook you trying to wake you up.

‘I want to see you one last time’, you thought before your hearing also faded away.

“Please wake up. Don’t die”, he shook you like crazy.

“Don’t do that Zoro! Let me take a look at the wound”

Handing you over, Zoro clenched his jaw. “Please don’t let him die”, he said and positioned himself.

“ASHURA”, he said and went full demon mode on the Beard Soldiers.

After winning over the Beard army everyone was really relieved. But they didn’t celebrate. Knowing one of their soldier was in a critical position.

The doctor checked your pulse and you weren’t alive. He sighed and got up. Covering you with a blanket, he walked out.

“How is he?”, Zoro asked as soon as the doctor stepped out.

“That was a girl and sadly her pulse stopped”, the doctor replied only for Zoro to grab his collar and ask again. “What did you say? It cant be happening. He i mean She cant die, do something”

“I’ve tried everything, I’m sorry”, the doctor said and Zoro let go of him.

He went inside the room to find you covered with a blanket. He pulled the blanket down to see your face again. He sat beside you and took your hand in his.

“I’m sorry. I made you come here even when you clearly didn’t want to. I am sorry”, he apologized holding your hand tightly. “Is there any spell to bring you back. If there is, I wish you to come back, please get a second chance”

Then he saw the sapphire necklace glow. He was shocked at this. If anyone would’ve told him that magic existed a few days earlier, he’d have brushed it off. But after seeing you, he believes in it.

Just when you felt that you were surrounded with nothing but light, your ocean coloured necklace glowed, as if it was calling you back. You opened your eyes and could see light and also a person with green hair. His face lit with happiness and he hugged you.

“Zo...ro”, you called as he pulled back to look at you.

“Y/N! You are alive!”, he said as he took your hand and kissed it.

“You!! You Human! How could you!”, your cheeks turned pink at his actions.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were a girl?”

“I never said that I were a boy”

“You are alive again so I’ll let it slide for now, also that stone and those scales on your cheek”, he said and you snapped your fingers to hide the scales.

“Whatever… I saw that you cried when I died”, you blabbered but it turned out to be true as his cheeks turned red.

“I did not”, he tried to hide his embarrassment but failed. You chuckled at his reaction and he smiled at you.

“EHHH!!!! YOU ARE ALIVE!!!!”, the doctor screamed looking at you then suddenly a weird guy with a straw hat came in beaming with energy.

“SUGOI!!! You are alive! then we all can celebrate on the occasion of you being alive and also winning the war!”, he said coming towards you.

“I guess… Thanks”

“Show me your powers when you get well okay!”, he said as he gave you a wide smile and left.

“Was he the prince Luffy that you are so fond of”, Zoro nodded

“He is the man worthy to become a King. But tell me this, are you a fish?”

“Actually, that’s not totally wrong. I’ll tell you what you need to know. Let’s teleport again after some time.”

The next day.

“Its… Its actually pretty cool. I never thought I’d see a half fish and half human”, Zoro said as he tugged on your tail.

“Ouch! Be careful. The tail can be strong but it is also very sensitive, and can you please start using the word mermaid”, you said splashing water on him.

“So, tell me. How strong are the mermaids? Are they all as strong as you?”, he curiously asked not hiding the intent to fight. You chuckled and started to tell him about the creatures of the ocean. But its just been 3 days since you met him, but you two already had a.... weird connection.

Zoro tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and looked into your eyes. The timing was so perfect. Maybe it was because he was there. You moved closer to kiss him and he also returned it. Maybe the mermaid princess wasn’t totally wrong to choose love…

XOXOXOXO

Thankyou for reading. I warned you with cringe alert in the beginning but if you made it through the end, congratulations!

Comment your feelings down in the comments!

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[kurokoros]

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

Rated: M

Words: 24.5K (she’s long)

Pairing: merman!shouto todoroki x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You inhale; the darkness swallows you whole.

XXX

You drown. At least, you should.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

And then your eyes begin to wander.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re lucky to be alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You shouldn’t be out here.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

You keep going back to the beach.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown, brows furrowing. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you tell them you can prove it.

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mizushima, if this is--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beside you, Kirishima shakes with muffled laughter.

XXX

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

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

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

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

“You.”

The blunt response makes your head snap up. Suddenly, he’s closer than he has been all morning.

The palm of his hand cups your calf, his long fingers wrapping gently around your leg as he tugs you closer to the edge of the rock, careful not to prick you with his clawed fingertips. Shouto is warm despite the seawater, and you shiver as droplets roll down your skin in little streams, leaving behind trails of salt. His grip is loose at first, but tightens when you don’t pull away.

Shouto stares up at you from the water, and the hand that isn’t gripping your leg presses against the rocks beside your thigh, using the leverage to pull himself part way out of the water. It’s still too far away, but the distance makes your breath catch as he leans in just an inch. “You look beautiful in the sunlight.” He says it like it’s a fact, something you should already know, and your lips part in shock.

The wicked look that flickers in his eyes cuts off any response you might have had, and then he shoves himself away from you, just like the first time you met. He rolls backwards in the water once he’s a safe distance away, mindful of the sharp spines protruding from his fins. The tip of his tail flicks up and out of the water, and you squeal as he splatters you with seawater.

“Dick,” you call out as soon as he resurfaces, making Shouto chuckle as he swims back towards the rock you’re perched on. His palm finds its way back to your leg, fingers slotting around you like it’s natural, and you press your leg into his touch, liking the rough scrape of his skin against yours. “What are you really thinking about?”

“You,” he says again, but his amusement dims and his eyes narrow again, catlike slits. “It’s not safe for you to come out this far when you can’t swim.” He glances at the ocean surrounding him and grimaces. 

A frown pulls at your own lips, confusion surging through you at the unexpected discussion. In all the months that you’ve known him, you wonder why it took this long for the question to come up, and why he seems so concerned. “I can swim,” you tell him, a little laugh slipping from your lips. His lips turn down and his head tilts to the side, and you huff, half-heartedly flicking more water towards him. “Maybe not as well as you, but not all of us were born in the water like you, Shou.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Why would you think I can’t swim?”

The answer is probably obvious, in hindsight, but it still startles you when he says, “You never come in the water.”

And that’s it, isn’t it. There’s a denial on the tip of your tongue, but it sticks there, refusing to be spoken. Because he’s right. In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never done more than dip your legs into the water, and that’s only when he’s nearby. When he’s not, you rarely leave the safety of the sand. It hits you like a blow to the ribs. Phantom pain laces across your chest, and your breath hitches, so subtle that Shouto wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t so close.

A bitter thought crosses your mind. You only met him because you came out to the rocks to prove to yourself that you weren’t a coward, but it was never the rocks that scared you, was it?

Not liking the train of thought, you force a smile and try to ignore the feeling of your lungs filling up with water. “I don’t like to get my hair wet in the morning. Not all of us are naturally resistant to salt.” You brush a strand of red hair away from his eyes, the texture silky.

But Shouto isn’t convinced. “Even when you’re here with your friends, you’re always sitting in the sand,” he says, slowly, gauging your reaction to the observation. “I just thought--” And he cuts off quickly, seeming to realize what you already have.

“I can swim,” you tell him again, not as confident this time.

The way your voice trembles is answer enough for his next question, but Shouto asks it anyway, blunt and unapologetic. “Are you afraid?”

You’re silent for a long time, and Shouto squeezes your calf. “I don’t know,” is your whispered confession.

His thumb strokes the side of your leg, so, so careful as his claws slide across your delicate skin. “Do you…” The way he trails off makes you look at him, and Shouto wets his lips, eyes searching yours almost desperately. “Will you trust me?”

What he’s really asking makes you tense. The water is suddenly freezing around your legs, and your hand grasps the sea glass dangling against your chest. “What if the current pulls me under again?”

“It won’t.” I won’t let it, he doesn’t say out loud, but you hear it anyway.

You’re slow to answer, searching his gaze in return. Finding what you’re looking for, you murmur, “Okay.” 

Shouto stays close to the rock as you pull your legs from the water and stand. You reach for your clothes, hesitating, but under his patient gaze you peel your shirt over your head, dropping it to the dry surface behind you. Your shorts follow, leaving you more naked than you’ve been in months. You’re so busy staring at the waves that you don’t see the greedy way his eyes take you in, drinking in the sight of your bare skin until he reaches your face and his expression softens completely. You really do look beautiful in the sunlight.

When you sit back on the edge of the rock, legs once again dangling in the water, you tense, heart in your throat as your pulse spikes. You almost pull away, but Shouto’s hand on your leg stops you. His palm slides over your knee, your thigh, and his clawed fingers curl around your hip. There’s no push or pull to his touch, he just holds you there, waiting for you to make the choice.

A shudder runs through you as you shift your hips, slowly sinking down in the water. It swallows you up, cold water rushing around your legs until it reaches your waist. Shouto never lets you go, and his hand is warm and steadying against your side, holding back the flood of panic threatening to choke your lungs.

“Watch your feet,” he murmurs, angling his tail away from your vulnerable skin.

The water reaches your chest, and suddenly the ocean is calm around you, the ebb and flow of the currents seeming to disappear as your arms wrap around Shouto’s neck, trusting him to hold you up. Neither of you move, floating mere feet away from the rocks. Your heart pounds in your chest, threatening to burst, but the gentle roll of the waves lull you.

You shiver from the cold, but Shouto is warm against your front, and you lean into his chest, tucking your head against his neck and letting the saltwater scent of him wrap around you. Being in the water again is like coming home, and for the first time since since you nearly drowned a sense of peace washes over you.

“That’s it, love,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your temple as he feels you relax. He pulls you tighter against his chest, one strong arm banded around your waist. His other hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, helping you tuck yourself beneath his chin. It causes the water to lap at your lower jaw, but Shouto chases away your fear with a gentle hand and quiet praise.

You can’t be sure how much time passes like that, but eventually your eyes slip shut, and your breathing evens out. Shouto nuzzles against your hair, a quiet purring sound rumbling deep in his chest, the vibrations soothing you. “Good?” he murmurs, breath hot against your exposed ear.

You nod, half-asleep, and it’s hard to pull yourself from the curve of his shoulder and neck, but you want to see his eyes. Shouto’s nose bumps against yours as he tilts his chin to look at you, surprised by your movement, and he tenses, eyes locked with yours and lips a breath away. “Thank you,” you murmur, almost able to taste the salt on his skin.

His throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he leans down an inch, just to press his forehead to yours. Shouto’s claws flex against the back of your neck, almost nervous, and he looks at you like he wants to speak, but only nods. 

His lips brush against your hairline as he tucks you safely back beneath his chin.

XXX

It’s nearly midnight when you make your way down to the beach, the full moon shining overhead, brighter than you’ve ever seen it. Masaki is gone for the night, and your house was too quiet, too lonely for you to stay in, unable to fall asleep. And your first thought was Shouto. You have no way of knowing if he’ll be here tonight. You never meet this late, and yet you find yourself searching for him regardless.

A large part of you felt like you needed to be here tonight, an inexplicable urge to see him overtaking you, though you already saw him once today, early in the morning. He seemed agitated then, pacing in the water more than usual, his tone gruff and snappish. You didn’t ask why, and he seemed to calm down quickly enough once you slipped into the water beside him.

Shouto practically wrapped himself around you when you did, purring as he rubbed his cheek against yours and pulled you close to his chest. Even his tail brushed against you more than usual, almost like he was trying to coax you to play.

You set his odd behavior aside as you settle into your usual spot on the rocks, legs slipping into the water on the flat of the stone, a sheer cliff disappearing into the water for twenty feet until it reaches the bottom. The hem of your dress flirts with the surface of the water, but you don’t pay it a second thought. The seawater will wash out.

“Shouto?” you call out across the waves, a distant splash causing your head to snap up. Your legs become still in the water, eyes searching for him, but the sea breeze and waves are the only sound, and you must have imagined it. Leaning back on your hands, you sigh, staring up at the moon. Pale light reflects off the water, the moon’s reflection far off on the horizon.

You shriek as something grabs you beneath the water, lashing out with your legs. Clawed fingers wrap around your legs, pinning them against the rocks. You choke on a gasp, eyes wide, but your heart slows when you see a familiar head breach the surface of the water. “Dammit, Shouto,” you breathe, giggling lightly as you shake your head. “You scared me.”

When he doesn’t respond, you glance at him, the moon so full and bright that you’re able to see him perfectly, despite the dark.

Your breath catches when you really look at the merman. For the first time since you met him, he looks utterly inhuman, and the sight makes your heart stutter in your chest. His pupils are slits, silver and turquoise swallowing the black until his eyes appear bottomless, so easy to drown in. Lips curved back over his sharp teeth, there's a flicker of hunger in his eyes as they settle on you. Something feral and wanting.

“You shouldn’t be in the water tonight, love,” he tells you, voice lower than usual, deeper, almost a growl. The shock of it rumbles through you; it makes you shiver. His claws drag against the soft skin of your leg, curling around you, and for the first time you feel the threatening prick of them. The hint of danger slams the breath from your lungs, and your heart pounds against your ribs as his hand slowly moves higher.

Taken aback by his touch, you do nothing to stop him. “Have you,” you cut off, sucking in a sharp breath as he nudges your legs apart. “Have you been here all afternoon?” You weren’t expecting this when you came down here tonight, and the way he’s touching you is making it hard to think. He’s never acted like this before. At least not around you. And it’s throwing you for a loop.

He shakes his head, claws digging into the rock. The hand curled just beneath your knee tugs you forward. You yelp, slipping down the side until you’re balanced precariously on the edge, your fingers digging into the rock to hold yourself up as he pulls your legs apart. “I could smell you,” he murmurs, purring as his mouth presses against your inner thigh, dangerously close to the line of your panties. He nuzzles you, breathing growing heavier as he drinks in your scent. 

It should be embarrassing, but the way his tongue laves attention to your thigh has heat pooling in your belly. Your breathing quickens, and with one shaky hand you reach out, holding onto his shoulder for balance as wicked, sharp teeth nip at you. Your hips lurch, and Shouto’s claws dig into your thigh, not enough to hurt you, but the minor jolt of pain makes you whimper. The hem of your dress is drenched in seawater, and the fabric slides wetly over the tops of your thighs as Shouto shoves the fabric upward, giving himself more access to your sinfully smooth skin.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder as he presses slow, wet kisses across the inside of your thigh, mouth wandering, tasting you. “Shouto,” you gasp as he hikes your knee over his shoulder, giving himself greater access to you as your leg dangles down his back, seawater dripping from your skin to his. Mewling, you arch into his touch as his tongue drags across the crease between your thigh and your core. He mouths at you, and the sensation of sharp teeth on your sensitive skin makes you jolt. “Shouto,” you call his name again, “what are you doing?”

A pointless question when his head is buried between your thighs, his teeth and tongue running along your soft skin, tasting and touching as he drags quiet sounds from your mouth.

Your hips jerk, a keening cry escaping you as his teeth press down. He jolts at the sound, ripping himself away from you. A swear is hissed between his teeth. His pupils are wider when they lock with yours, wavering between lucid and feral slits. “I--I’m sorry,” he stutters, panting, claws digging into the rock beside you. “You need to… you need to go home,” he tells you firmly, glaring as he tries to pull himself from your sweet taste. “The full moon,” he continues before you can ask him why. “It makes us… frenzied, and… you smell really good.”

The way he purrs at the end of his statement makes you shiver in anticipation. You wet your lips. “What do I smell like?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“Me,” he growls, clearly pleased with himself. When you don’t pull away, he descends on you again, and you flush as his lips brush against the front of your underwear, tongue flicking out to taste the damp spot forming between your legs. “But sweeter,” he adds, a deep rumble in his chest.

“Shouto,” you whine, hand moving to the back of his head. 

Your fingers thread through his hair, and he purrs again when you tug, trying to pull him closer. “Don’t,” he snaps, pressing another chaste kiss to your thigh. “I can’t--I’m not myself like this.” His breathing is heavier than before, and he shudders. “I want to--” His fingers dig into your thigh.

“Want to what, Shou?” you find yourself asking, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

His answer is immediate, a warning growl. “Breed you.”

It dawns on you then, why he was so strange earlier in the day, and why he’s acting like this now. It’s some kind of rut, or whatever they might call it. And, distantly, it makes sense. The moon controls the tides, the psyche. For creatures born from the waves, it must have some power over them as well. And he wants you. Shouto is giving you an out, a chance to run, and you should take it. It would be better to talk about this tomorrow, when he’s more himself, but then his sharp teeth nip at the meat of your inner thigh again, and you let him spread your legs wider.

“Please,” you murmur, head tilting back as he presses his face between your thighs, kitten licks toying with your clit through your panties. Each lap at your slit and sensitive bundle of nerves sends heat rushing between your thighs, and your breathing grows heavy, the pleasure almost unbearable and he’s hardly touched you. He shifts in the water, glancing up at you from between your legs, and the sight makes your core clench around nothing. “Shouto, don’t stop.”

Something flickers in his eyes.

He drags you into the water with him.

A gasp tears from your mouth, your eyes widening as he spins you around, shoving your chest against the rocks. Your short dress tangles around your thighs until he yanks it upwards, the fabric billowing in the water. He reaches around you, palming your breast through your dress, and the thin, soaked fabric clings to you, making the friction even better. The threat of his claws on your chest makes you whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder. Shouto holds you up easily in the water, tail flicking wildly beneath you. His hips press against yours from behind, smooth and flat, and your eyes flutter shut as his sharp teeth press against the side of your throat.

A hazy thought of how he plans to fuck you crosses your mind, but then something long and thick slides from a slit you never noticed in the top of his tail. You shudder as he ruts against you from behind, cock sliding wetly between your thighs. It’s slick and smooth on the sides, curved at the tip, and you moan as a long line of ridges along the top rub against your clit through your panties.

“Shouto,” you whimper, thighs squeezing around the hard length pressed between your legs. He grunts against your neck, sliding between your thighs easily, leaving them sticky with some kind of thick fluid that makes your skin feel hot.

One clawed hand wanders down the front of your torso, nearly ripping your dress in two. You arch against him, spreading your legs in the water as his long tail nudges between your knees, holding you open to the hand that slips between your legs. The tip of one claw traces your slit, and he pins you against the ledge to keep you from squirming as the smooth side of his claw rubs against your clit. He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming, begging for him to do something, as your breathing grows uneven. Sharp teeth bite down on the curve of your shoulder, and your stomach flips as he hooks his claw around the scrap of fabric between your legs, slicing through your panties with ease.

The head of his cock presses against your pussy, more of that sticky fluid smearing against your skin as those ridges slide over your clit. Whimpering, your head falls back. Your hands reach around to grab his hair, his shoulders, anything within your reach, trusting him to hold you up.

“Mine,” he growls against the back of your neck, his hand sliding beneath your dress to press against your stomach. His hips pull back and snap forward just as quickly, and you moan as the head of his cock slips inside you. Each rock of his hips forces him deeper inside you, filling you inch by inch until you can barely breathe. He’s thick, bigger than you thought, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you until there’s nowhere left untouched. You should be uncomfortably full, but the slick fluid dripping from his cock and the ridges rubbing against you have nothing but pleasure coiling inside you.

The pace he picks up is harsh, fast, his cock thrusting inside of you roughly. His breath is hot against your ear, and his teeth are pressed to the thin skin of your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath the threat of his jaws tearing into you. 

Your walls clench down around him.

Shouto purrs, palm pressing firmly against your belly. You moan and gasp, choked sounds are the only noises you’re able to make as the ridges on his cock rub against your sweet spot with every stroke against your sensitive inner walls. 

Your pleasure builds rapidly, coiling tightly between your legs until you’re trembling against him. Shouto’s claws flick over your nipple, rolling it carefully with his fingers, and the hand on your stomach slinks lower, dipping between your thighs to rub against your swollen clit until you come around his cock.

Another purr rumbles through his chest into yours, and Shouto’s pace speeds up even further as you clench around him, squirming. 

You don’t know how long he fucks you like this, the pleasure overwhelming you as he pulls another orgasm from your boneless, breathless body. His cock twitches inside of you, seeming to swell, and his teeth dig into the curve of your shoulder and neck, drawing blood as he spills himself inside you.

“You called me yours,” you say, later, half asleep on the rocks, exhausted from your time in the water with him.

He huffs, looking down at you like it should be obvious. “I’ve been courting you for months,” he murmurs, voice muffled as he dips his chin to press his mouth against the side of your neck, mindful not to pinch you with his sharp teeth. The solid weight of him settles on top of you, his chest pressed against yours. His tongue slides out to lap at the wound on your neck. There must be something in his saliva as well, because the ache is gone as quickly as it starts.

“What?” you ask, eyes widening.

“The sea glass,” he tells you, purring as you reach around him, stroking his bare back. He nuzzles against your neck, kissing down your throat and occasionally licking the salt from your skin. “It’s...It’s what you give to lovers,” is what he tells you, hesitantly, like you might be mad.

But you reach for him, cradling his jaw and stroking his cheeks. “Does that make you mine?”

Shouto leans down to kiss you for the first time, so softly that your heart starts to ache.

XXX

Like so many nights before, you find your feet taking you to the beach, to the rocks that have become a second home to you over the last few months, to Shouto. A piece of your heart burns as you think of him, your chest filling with unimaginable heat. Your stomach churns as your thoughts sour, wondering how long things might last. Seeing each other so rarely, being different species. It won’t work, in the end, but you want to stay. You’ll stay as long as he lets you.

Your lips curve upward as soon as you see him waiting for you.

For a moment, you think he’s asleep. That he was only sunning himself on the rocks, soaking in the last rays of daylight before the sunset disappeared, and he lost track of time. He doesn’t look up as you approach, footsteps nearly silent as you traverse the rocks, knowing exactly where to step. You’ve become decent at sneaking up on him, but he always notices you before you can truly surprise him. His senses are too sharp; he’s too in-tune with you.

Dread crawls down your throat and chokes you, strangling your heart when you see blood smeared across the rocks. The faint smile quirked on your lips disappears as your eyes snap up, locking on his tense frame. You’re close enough to hear him now, muttering something in a language you don’t understand, trembling with the effort it takes to hold himself up. The sight of him makes you sick.

His back is to you, his wild stare cast out over the sea, and you’re close enough to see the long, bloody gashes stretching across his back. Deep and curved, they’ve ripped through his flesh like tissue paper. Claw marks, you realize. They’re claw marks. The spines jutting from his tail are damaged too, some snapped and jagged in places, and they seem to ooze where they’ve been broken in two, clear fluid dripping down onto his tail.

You don’t think when you lurch forward, raw panic surging inside you. Dropping to your knees beside him, you grasp his shoulder, a breathless, “Shouto,” falling from your lips.

He goes rigid beneath your gentle touch, head snapping up and around, pupils shrunken into animalistic slits. You can’t blame him for his defensive reaction. Still half-turned away, his tail snaps up and out. He lashes out, bleeding and hurt. Instinct drives him to it. 

The undamaged spines stop inches from piercing through your flesh, aimed for your chest and throat, a startled sound escaping you. Your fingers tremble where they hover just inches above his arm, heart stuttering, Your chest feels tight, suddenly, like something is gripping you and squeezing, and it makes phantom pain shoot through your ribcage. 

Shouto chokes out your name in the most broken, horrified tone you’ve ever heard. His spines flex, flaring, and the delicate edge of one almost lovingly brushes against your cheek. “I--I didn’t.” He’s still staring at you, looking pale and sickly under the moonlight. Claws scrape across the ground before he reaches for you, stopping before he can touch you. Tension makes his fingers tremble. He’s still coiled tightly, like might lunge for you, or throw himself into the water.

It takes a moment for your heart to slow, the sudden spark of fear bleeding away into nothing as he stares at you. Carefully, you shift away from his spines, movements painfully slow. Shouto follows you with his eyes, holding his breath. He’s stopped stuttering apologies, his jaw clenched.

When you reach forward to cup his jaw, he melts into your touch, shuddering. Your thumbs stroke across his cheeks, slow soothing motions that coax him to relax, to trust you. A soft, apologetic sound rumbles in his throat, and Shouto tilts his cheek into your touch, lips brushing against the side of your palm. “What happened?” you whisper as his pupils widen, dilating as your sweet scent washes over him.

Shouto stiffens at the question, but your soft hands and gentle touch quell the cacophony of emotions swelling inside him.

His tongue flicks out across his lips, and his tail twitches again. Shouto shifts his lower-half away from you, but can’t bring himself to pull away from you entirely. Even if he wanted to, you wouldn’t let him go far. Each subtle shift and flex of his body is mirrored by you, not giving him a moment to overthink your momentary fear. 

Silence threatens to consume you both before he finally speaks. “My father found out about you,” he eventually admits, allowing you to run your fingers through his damp hair. The pad of your thumb brushes the underside of a cut across his temple, and your distress makes his stomach churn. “He wasn’t pleased.”

Outrage makes your throat tighten. “So he attacked you?” you ask in disbelief, voice strained.

“This is how our kind settle disagreements,” Shouto tells you. A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop. His tail goes lax on the rocks, the forked fins at the bottom handing over the edge and dipping into the water. “I’ll be fine,” he promises, reaching up to cover one of your hands with his. Rough lips press against your palm again, so tender that your heart begins to ache. “We heal quickly.”

You want to argue. Want to check the wounds on his back. But you can see that he isn’t lying. Already, the horrid gashes across his back are starting to close, wounds clotting. What’s left of the blood is diluted from the water dripping down his skin, leaving watery red lines painted across his ribs, like the stripes on his tail.

Before you can speak, Shouto moves again, propping himself up with his tail and reaching for you. Your hands fall to his shoulders, and this time it’s his hands cradling your jaw so carefully, like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held. “Are you all right?” The tip of his nose brushes against your temple as he pulls you to his chest, arms winding around your back. 

“You scared me,” you admit to him, so softly that he almost doesn’t hear you. When your words reach him, he tenses, wincing. “Not because of that,” you’re quick to say, sinking into him. The tips of your fingers brush against a wound on the back of his neck. It turns silver before your eyes. “You weren’t moving.”

His chest rumbles with a purr, and your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to your forehead, holding them there in a lingering kiss. “I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, grip tightening around you. He makes another quiet sound deep in his throat, hands stroking over your back and sides reassuringly. 

A sharp pain licks across your side when his palm smooths over your ribs. Before you can stop it, a soft cry escapes you, and Shouto jerks back. Mismatched eyes find yours and narrow when he sees you wince. Then, his gaze snaps to your side, hand wrenching away from you as the color drains from his face. “Blood,” he murmurs, staring at the red smear across his palm. “Are you bleeding?”

Panic creeps into his tone. The shirt you’re wearing is too dark to tell, but you whimper as his palm presses back to your side. It’s like your ribs have been bruised again, but so much worse. Fire flares across your ride side when you breathe, crawling beneath your skin.

You don’t feel it when Shouto yanks the side of your shirt upwards, claws digging into the fabric and tearing. “No,” you hear him whisper, a desperate, broken sound. He swears. 

The cut across your ribs is small, shallow, but it bleeds slowly. Already, your skin is inflamed around the wound, puffy and red. The cause is obvious, and your whimper rips his heart from his chest. Shouto’s blood runs cold. His hands shake as he holds you up. 

The venom works quickly. It paralyzes you. The heat burning beneath your skin is unbearably hot, and you can’t breathe.

“Shouto,” you whisper as he pulls you to his chest. “What’s going on?” Everything is foggy, muffled, like you’re underwater. Even the sound of his voice calling out your name is starting to slip away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he sputters, voice cracking. “I don’t--I didn’t--fuck, I’m so sorry, love.” He can’t fix this. He hurt you, and there’s nothing he can do to stop his venom from sinking into your flesh and blood now that it’s already there. Dammit, he should have checked you right away--but even if he had it would have been too late. One second, an instant of his control slipping. That’s all it takes for him to hurt people, and he knows that. Merfolk have no cure for his venom, but your kind do. There’s a cure for the venom of the lionfish he so closely resembles.

But he’s bigger than a lionfish.

“Shouto?” you whimper again, not understanding. You can’t breathe. Why can’t you breathe?

You pitch forward suddenly, and Shouto hushes you, lowering you onto the rock as he strokes your hair. Too weak to pull himself over the ledge earlier, the two of you are kneeling where the rock gently slopes into the water, and the currents cause small waves to lap at you. Seawater soaks into your clothes as he sets you down on your side, hands hovering inches from your skin, afraid to touch you. The sea glass pendant you’re wearing slips into the water.

The currents slow, and the turquoise glass glows beneath the moon as it sinks beneath the surface. 

Shouto rolls you to your back, careful not to touch the festering wound on your side. Your eyes are half-lidded when he leans over you, nose nudging your cheek, needy as he waits for a response. There isn’t one. He tries purring again, trying to soothe you like his mother always did for him, but you’re so far gone to the venom, already half-way lost to him.

The ocean ripples behind him, the water parting as a long, serpentine head breaches the surface. Shouto doesn’t notice, still leaning over you, voice low and hushed as he begs you to move, to open your eyes, but your chest is struggling weakly now, each breath slow and painful.

A catlike, slitted pupil locks on Shouto, then you, drifting between your bodies to the necklace you wear. “So this is where it’s been,” a voice muses. A sleek, dark mass moves beneath the surface of the water, a long body writhing and twisting around itself.

Shouto’s head snaps up, and his eyes are rimmed in red as they connect with vibrant, blue irises set into a long, scaled face. Dark horns protrude from the creatures head. Fins the same deep shade of blue flutter against the creature's face, and lips curve back to reveal a row of sharp fangs.

Breath caught in his throat, Shouto can only stare at the creature he’s only heard about in tales and stories. The sea god. The dragon god. A name sticks on Shouto’s tongue, but he doesn’t dare speak it, not with the monstrous dragon rising out of the water.

“Little lost fragment,” the sea god speaks, voice soft and deep. The dragon reaches for you, one long claw brushing against your chest, the tip coming to rest over the sea glass pressed over your struggling heart. Turquoise light crackles beneath the dragon’s touch, and Shouto’s heart lurches into his throat. It isn’t sea glass at all. It never was. 

“Humans shouldn’t play with things they don’t understand,” Ryujin muses, tone caught somewhere between vengeful and sympathetic. His claw hooks beneath the chain around your throat, but doesn’t pull. The pendant above your heart loses it’s glow, the dragon reclaiming its power before releasing you.

A wet crackle leaves Shouto as he tries to speak. “How--” he starts, cutting off as Ryujin’s eye cuts back to him, silencing him.

“It called to me,” the dragon god states plainly, answering what Shouto couldn’t ask. For months he searched for the fragment of his precious stones, sensing it had been claimed. A wish is owed. Ryujin glances down at you again, a low sound rumbling through his chest like thunder. “You’ve killed her,” he continues, eyeing the wound on your side and the spines flaring on Shouto’s tail. “And such a pretty thing.”

Shouto bristles, baring his teeth at the god. A growl rips from deep in his chest, but the dragon only looks at him, amused. “Can you save her?” Shouto snaps, staring his god in the eyes.

The dragon blinks at him, slow and amused. “I can.”

Tongue flicking out over his dry lips, Shouto asks the question he knows could have dire consequences, desperation outweighing fear. “What will it cost?” He should know better than to make demands of a god, but if it means saving you, he’d do anything.

“What will you give?” Ryujin asks instead.

Shouto looks at you, so still beneath him. So silent. Your chest isn’t moving anymore. Your heartbeat is slow and falling silent as well. “Everything,” he says, reaching up to stroke his knuckles across your cheek, willing you to open your eyes for him, to smile one more time. He swallows down the lump in his throat, glaring at the god. “I’ll give you everything.”

Ryujin laughs. He sneers at Shouto, baring his fangs. “Foolish boy,” the dragon calls him, snorting, breath hot as it fans across the merman’s face. “I’ll accept your deal.” The dragon lashes out suddenly, clawed fingers grasping Shouto’s tail, making the merman gasp. “And I’ll take what’s mine.”

Before Shouto can protest, he’s ripped under the water, dragged to the bottom as the serpent rips him out to sea. He tenses, struggling, but the spines jutting from his tail snap beneath the sea god’s grip, bouncing harmlessly off the dragon’s thick scales. The god’s claws dig into his flesh, ripping through tissue and bone, and Shouto cries out as his blood diffuses in the water. Iron coats his tongue, choking him, and water rushes down his throat as he forgets to hold his breath.

“So quick to leave the water. Never thinking of the consequences.” Ryujin’s voice rumbles through his head. A sharp claw presses just below Shouto’s waist, sinking deep into his flesh. “Submerge yourself in salt and be cast back to the seafoam you come from.”

The dragon rips his tail in two.

XXX

Your eyes snap open. Heart in your throat, you’re unable to move for several long seconds. Your head hurts, your thoughts hazy. The side of your ribs ache in a way they haven’t in months, and you lie there, trying to recall how you got here. 

Waves lap at your bare toes, and you know you’re on the beach without having to look. Sand and salt stick to your skin as you shift, a shuddering breath escaping from your parted lips as you sit up and stare across the water. 

Memories come back to you, ebbing and flowing like the tides, bits and pieces coming together as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. The pain of his spine burying itself in your side. The fear in his eyes. A warm breath fanning over your face; a thunderous voice calling you back. Calling you home.

You remember dying.

A low groan disrupts your train of thought, and your head snaps toward the sound. Your breath catches when you see him lying next to you, on his back in the sand. “Shouto,” you gasp, lurching towards him, throwing yourself on top of him. He grunts, eyes shooting open as your weight presses down on top of him. Like last time, he recoils, ready to strike, but then his bicolored eyes find yours and it’s like the breath is ripped from his lungs. 

Shouto stares up at you in shameless wonder, lips parting, but no sound escaping his raw throat. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his hand from the ground, reaching for you. Fingertips brush against your cheek, his hand calloused and human. “You’re alive,” he murmurs, emotion welling in his eyes.

You wipe away salt as it trails across the curve of his cheek. “I’m alive,” you repeat. For yourself, and for him. You take his hand in yours, staring at the space his claws should be as you brush your fingertips across his knuckles. He shifts, and you realize there are legs beneath you, not a tail. “Shouto, how…” you trail off, trying again. “What did you--”

He hushes you, sitting up and pulling you onto his lap. His nose bumps against yours, and your knees press against his hips. “It’s okay,” he tells you, soft and sweet. “We’re okay, love.” 

A pressure builds in your chest, swelling and threatening to burst. “I love you,” you tell him.

You draw him in to meet you, one hand fisted in his hair as the other wraps around his back, holding him to you. Shouto comes willingly, mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s harsh and sweet all at once, all of your combined fear and desperation spilling out at once. His arms wrap around you, fingers blunt and warm as they slide down your back to slip beneath your shirt, wanting to feel your skin beneath his. Shouto’s mouth chases yours when you lean back, and he cradles you so carefully, like he’s afraid you might break.

He’s naked, and you’re both covered in sand and salt and blood, but neither of you care as he presses his forehead to yours, breathing you in.

It hits you, what he must have done--what he gave up for you--and your heart squeezes. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, stroking your fingers across his cheeks and nuzzling against him.

But Shouto shakes his head. His hands are firm on your hips, unwilling to let you go. “I’m not.” And he draws you to him; you let yourself drown.

[plaidbooks]

Asthma

A/N: This is a Sonny Carisi x reader fic and as the title may suggest, it’s about asthma! I have asthma, and something like this happened to me (thank god for friends who know how to use inhalers). Please be aware that not all asthma works like this, and it’s highly specific to myself and how my asthma is. anyways, hope y’all enjoy.

P.S. I have a headcanon that Sonny switches to Italian when stressed/upset/scared because it calms him down

Tags: asthma attacks/lack of oxygen, near-death experiences

Words: 1722

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @barbasimp @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

Translations: Merda = shit

Fanculo = fuck

Stai bene? = are you ok?

come funziona di nuovo? = How does this work again?

Non farlo di nuovo! = Don’t do that again!

~~~~~~~~~~ 

You had been running around all day in the New York City heat and humidity, your lungs burning as you finally made it home. You’d think after living here for so long, you’d be used to the oppressive air by now, but you still had breathing issues. Which is why you had two albuterol inhalers for your asthma—one in your purse and one on the counter in the kitchen. Your kitchen was in the middle of your apartment and made the most sense logistically as to where to keep it—it was the perfect distance whether you were coming from the bedroom or the living room.

You had only really had a bad asthma attack once before, and you knew that you had a good 5-10 seconds before you’d lose consciousness. But that was also dependent on how much you panicked; if your brain went into overdrive, then you’d start breathing harder and you’d run out of air faster. It was all about mind over matter, but sometimes, even with mild attacks, it was hard to not panic. It was the natural response to not being able to breathe.

Collapsing onto the couch, you turned your laptop on, hoping to just relax with some funny videos on youtube for the night until your boyfriend, Sonny, came home. Since becoming an ADA, he was coming home earlier than when he was a detective. Though he usually brought cases home with him, working on the coffee table until late in the evening. You didn’t mind; at least you could sit with him, keep each other company, even talk when he wasn’t super invested. Plus, you loved when he’d stand in front of you, running you through his closing arguments or his cross as if you were a witness.

 ***********************

You lost track of time as you laughed heartily at a video, your laughter erupting out of you. You clutched your stomach in pain, tears in your eyes as you laughed. Then, you went to suck in a lungful of air. But nothing happened. You tried again and got a weird rasping sound in your throat. Your eyes went wide as you realized what had happened; you had laughed so hard, you were having an asthma attack. Panic swept through you and you sprung to your feet. But it had been a while now—seconds, though they stretched on—without air, and you were suddenly light-headed. Your lungs burned and it was like a sledgehammer was being pressed upon your chest. You gasped for breath but got nothing in return. Glancing through your fading vision at the kitchen, you took one step, then another, your senses slowly turning off before darkness overtook you.

***

Sonny walked down the hallway to the apartment he shared with you, whistling a tune. Today had gone surprisingly well, and he was off much earlier than he expected, with the weekend stretched before him. He even left all his case files at work, not bothering to work anymore once he left the office for the night.

Digging his key out of his pocket, he went to unlock the door. There was a loud thud from inside the apartment, and Sonny froze.

“Doll?” he called out. He pressed his ear to the door, his hand fumbling for the keyhole. There was no response, and it made his panic rise like bile in his throat. His hand was shaking so badly, he had to steady it with his other hand to get the key in. But in his hurry, he turned it too hard, snapping the key in the keyhole.

Sonny took a step back, braced himself, then kicked the door open, the wood splintering. He rushed in, glancing around until he found you, laying on your side, unmoving.

“Merda! Stai bene?” he asked, making his way over to you. Sonny knelt down, rolling you onto your back. Your chest was barely moving, and you were rasping with every breath. He knew about your asthma, but he had never seen you like this and had not expected it.

Sonny hurried to the kitchen, snatching your inhaler off the counter. He rushed back to you, your breathing much more shallow now, even after a few seconds.

“Fanculo, fanculo…come funziona di nuovo?” he muttered to himself, shaking the inhaler in his hand. He’d never needed to use it before, and you showed him how so long ago…. He ripped the cap off, placing it gently in your mouth. Feeling like he was hurting rather than helping, he plugged your nose as he pressed the cylinder with the medicine down, hearing the spray go into your mouth.

He waited, counting in his head to ten, all the while mumbling, “merda, merda, merda,” over and over again like a mantra. Once he hit ten, he released your nose and took the inhaler from your mouth. Slowly, you started taking deeper and deeper breaths, and your eyelids fluttered before opening.

***

Your chest was on fire and your throat burned as you came to, groggy and disoriented. Though, your mind was rushing, in the way that only your asthma medication did to you—it was a breathable steroid/adrenaline. When your eyes focused, you saw Sonny leaning over you, looking worried to death. But when he saw your eyes opened, a wide grin of relief spread across his face.

“Fanculo! Non farlo di nuovo!” he said, helping you to sit up.

You winced at the motion, giving him a look. “W-what? You’re speaking Italian, Dom.”

“I-I know…I do that when I’m scared. It calms me.”

You chuckled lightly, but grimace as pain broke through your chest. “That’s not helpful when I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Never mind; can you get up? I need to take you to the hospital—”

“No,” you replied. “I’m fine—I’ll be fine. Just…help me to the couch.”

Sonny gave you a hard look before he helped you stand, guiding you to the couch. “You should still go to the hospital; who knows how long you were on the ground without air?”

“Was I still breathing when you used the inhaler?” you asked. You held out your hand for it, and Sonny passed you the little piece of plastic that had just saved your life.

“Y-yeah, but barely—”

“Then I’m fine.” You glanced at Sonny, who was gearing up for an argument, and you sighed. “If I were to go to the hospital right now, they’ll either do nothing or just give me another dose of albuterol, Dom. Honestly, I’m fine, okay?” He still looked willing to argue, so you added, “I know it must’ve been…bad, seeing me on the ground like that. But I promise you I’m okay.”

Sonny let out a long sigh, rubbing his face with both hands. “Okay. I trust your judgement with your own medical issues.” He sat down on the couch next to you. “But run me through how to use the inhaler again—I wanna make sure I did it right. And please explain to me what the hell happened.”

You chuckled, raising the inhaler—you were going to take a second dose, anyway, to get rid of the pain in your chest. Sonny watched intently, happy to find that even in his panic, he had, in fact, done it correctly. As you held your breath, letting the medication work its way into your lungs, your eyes travelled to the front door, still ajar, the frame in pieces.

“Sonny, what the fuck?” you coughed out.

His eyes followed yours and he swallowed. “I, uh, I forgot I did that,” he replied, smiling sheepishly.

“Well now what do we do? We can’t leave our place open like this,” you glanced at the time; it was late, and no hardware store would be open for new doors. And you were pretty sure your landlord was going to be pissed.

“It’s fine; I can make it so it looks closed. If you don’t feel safe, we can go to a hotel until I fix it tomorrow,” Sonny said, standing. You nodded and he was off, packing an overnight bag for you both.

 *******************

By the time you were at the hotel, you were exhausted. The effects of the medication had run its course, and you just wanted to sleep. Sonny, of course, didn’t allow you carry anything as he led you to your room. He swiped the keycard, letting you in first, and you all but collapsed onto the bed.

“You okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Your voice was muffled as you replied, and he asked again. Turning your head to the side, you mumbled, “fine, just tired.”

“It’s late; let’s get in bed.” Sonny stripped quickly, then helped you stand, gently pulling your shirt up and off. Once in just your panties, you crawled under the covers, curling onto your side. Sonny got in behind you, wrapping himself around you. “I love you,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

“I love you, too, Dom,” you whispered back. Mercifully, you fell asleep almost instantly, the long day wearing you out.

But Sonny hardly slept, afraid that he’d wake up to you no longer breathing. Instead, he laid there, cradling you in his arms, listening to your soft breaths, the sound music to his ears. He dozed off and on, but mostly, he just held you, trying not to tear up as he thought about what might’ve happened if he had worked his normal hours, staying late in the office. He also thought about the other thing he packed in the overnight bag, hidden deep underneath everything else, for fear of it being stolen from your apartment as well as the fear of your finding it.

Inside a sock, rolled up and shoved underneath everything else, was a little box. And in that box was the most perfect engagement ring that Sonny knew you’d love. He’d been planning to propose around your birthday, but now, with that near-death scare, he was thinking that he should just do it now. He was off the next two days, and you were already planning to do dinner tomorrow night. Would it be weird timing now? But at the same time, life was short; today proved that. As the sun came up, streaming through the drawn curtains, Sonny made up his mind.

[you-call-it-a-dude]

I just got my wisdom teeth out today. So please enjoy this old Bechloe fic from my fanfiction.net account about Beca getting her wisdom teeth out! Not all my stories from ff.net have been moved to ao3 so if you’re interested feel free to check them out here

Words of Wisdom

"Beca, I know you're nervous, but please stop bouncing your leg. You're shaking the whole car." Chloe said, reaching across the center console to put her hand on Beca's knee to steady it.

"I'm not nervous." Beca replied, gripping Chloe's hand tightly. "I just- aren't I too old to be getting my wisdom teeth out? That shit happens when you're like twenty."

———

"That's true. You are. But because you don't know how to stop eating Reese Cups, you keep getting cavities in your wisdom teeth and I'm sure our insurance is very annoyed with how many fillings you've gotten the past two years. So now it's going to be all taken care of!" She gave Beca's knee a reassuring squeeze before returning it to the wheel to turn into the parking lot of the dentist's office. She pulled into a spot relatively close to the entrance and killed the ignition. She grabbed a book from the backseat and tucked it into her purse before getting out of the car. She was about to lock the door before she realized Beca hadn't got out of the car. She made her way to the passenger side and saw her wife in the seat with her arms crossed. She threw open the door and placed her hands on her hips. "I'm going to count to three, Rebecca. We already have two children, I don't need you acting like a third one."

"I'm not Frankie. That doesn't work on me." The redhead cocked her eyebrow at Beca, accepting the challenge.

"One…" Beca kept her gaze forward, refusing to look at her wife. "Two…" She snuck a glance at Chloe and saw her sporting her 'mom face'. She was getting a little bit nervous. "Two and a half…Don't make me get to three." The brunette refused to back down. Chloe just sighed loudly. "Three." Before Beca knew it, two strong hands were grabbing her by her biceps and literally dragging her out of the car. Chloe slammed the door and locked it before Beca could try and get back in. "Seriously, Beca. I don't have time for this. Please just cooperate." Beca let out and exaggerated sigh and grumbled.

"Fine." Chloe beamed a big smile and linked her arm with Beca's, leading her into the dentist's office.

Once they checked in, Chloe filled out Beca's forms because the brunette had absolutely no idea how to answer those questions. Just as Chloe handed the clipboard to the woman at the front desk, the dental hygienist called out Beca's name. Chloe kissed her wife's cheek. Beca stood up and looked down at Chloe.

"You're not coming?" She asked with a pout on her face.

"She can be with you until you fall asleep." The hygienist interjected politely. Chloe smiled and stood up. She put her hand on Beca's lower back and gave her a little push in the direction on the room.

The hygienist led them to the room Beca's surgery would be performed in. She instructed both girls to take a seat and Chloe shot Beca a stern look when the brunette attempted to sit in the chair that was meant for her. She pointed to the dental chair and Beca sighed in defeat as she slid in the chair. Chloe reached over and grabbed Beca's hand, squeezing it for reassurance. The oral surgeon walked in a few minutes later. He was a gentleman who looked to be in his early fifties. He shook both of their hands, introduced himself as Doctor Camden, and pulled up his stool.

"Alright, Mrs. Mitchell. I'm going to be taking out all four of your wisdom teeth. Luckily they aren't impacted, so it should be a relatively easy procedure. We can even keep you awake for it if you'd like."

"I wouldn't." Beca said curtly, making Doctor Camden laugh.

"Okay then. I'll give you local anesthesia and twilight sedation as opposed to general anesthesia. Does that sound okay?" Beca was too nervous to ask questions so she just nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry, what does all that mean?" Chloe asked respectfully.

"Local anesthesia will numb up her gums. I'll apply a numbing gel to the area first, and then I'll inject it into her gums, just like when getting a cavity filled. Twilight sedation is a very light form of general anesthesia. We will give it to her through an IV and she'll fall asleep. She won't feel any pain and she wont remember the procedure. She'll still be out of it when she wakes up, but we won't have to monitor her breathing like we would if she was under general because she wouldn't be completely out. I hope that answers your question."

"It does. Thank you."

"How about we get started then." Doctor Camden washed his hands thoroughly before putting on a pair of latex gloves. "I do apologize Mrs. Mitchell, but I'm going to have to ask you to step out now."

"Of course." Chloe stood up and pressed a kiss to Beca's head. "I'll be waiting for you. You're okay, baby. I love you." Beca frowned and watched her wife leave the room.

"Shall we begin?" Beca nodded and sat back, letting the hygienist clip that crappy paper bib around her neck. The surgeon began to lower the chair and Beca gripped the arms tightly.

Beca's had her fair share of cavities. Too many cavities are why she's in this predicament. But, Beca can't handle pain. You would think someone in and out of the emergency room as much has her would be used to it by now, but that's not the case. She secretly likes to blame it on her girls, mostly Chloe. Saying they've made her soft and Chloe babying her when she's hurt makes her mind think it's okay to be a wimp blah blah. In reality, the brunette has always been this way, but now she has someone to blame it on.

Once her mouth was numbed up and it was kicking in, Doctor Camden felt around the top of Beca's left hand, looking for a vein. He kept his thumb over the vein he would insert the needle in and cleaned the area. Beca gritted her teeth and cringed as the needle went in and sighed in relief when she actually felt no pain. He taped the needle in to keep it in place.

"Okay, Beca. IV is in and you should start feeling sleepy, okay?" Beca nodded. She could feel her eyes getting heavy.

"My hand hurts." She mumbled.

"Hold on, I'll fix that." He readjusted the tape and upped to dosage a bit, knowing it would be difficult for her to fall asleep if her hand was bothering her. "Better?"

"Ye-" Beca mumbled out the rest of her sentence. Doctor Camden had no idea what was said, but he caught the beginning of the word 'yes' before Beca knocked out.

/

Chloe sat anxiously in the waiting room. She brought a book from home to read, but she kept getting distracted by texts from Aubrey. The blonde was sending Chloe updates on Frankie and Callie, but was also expressing the excitement of seeing Beca coming of her anesthesia. Aubrey and Beca have buried the hatchet years ago, but they have a very playful and teasing relationship that Stacie and Chloe find amusing. Aubrey just sent Chloe a picture of Frankie and Callie on the couch, watching The Little Mermaid. The eight month old was sitting comfortably between Frankie's legs and Frankie had her arms wrapped securely around Callie. She pouted at the cuteness and quickly made that photo her new lock screen. Just as she put her phone back into her purse and was ready to pull her book out (thinking she still had a ways to go because it has only been forty-five minutes), Doctor Camden came out of the room.

"Mrs. Mitchell?" Chloe looked up and smiled at him.

"Finished already?" She grabbed her and Beca's coat and stood up.

"Oh yes. All four of her wisdom teeth grew in perfectly straight so it was fairly easy." He spoke and he led Chloe to the room Beca was in. "She's just waking up now so she might be a little groggy and goofy. I want her to stay here for thirty minutes, just till the sedation wears off a little. Then you can be on your way." He opened the door for Chloe and she thanked him as she entered the room. He shut the door to the room once Chloe entered.

She could see the back of Beca's head. The brunette was rocking her head side to side and making a noise similar to a whine. She sat on the chair next to the dental chair and draped the coats on her lap. When she finally got to look at Beca's face, she couldn't help but smirk a bit. Beca had her eyes closed, still rocking her head side to side as if she were dancing to her own whines. Her cheeks were huge and she could see the gauze stuffed in her cheeks. Chloe took this opportunity to take a quick photo before she placed her hands on Beca's knee to get her attention. The brunette cracked one eye open and looked at Chloe.

"Hi, chipmunk." Chloe said as she bit back a laugh. Beca opened her other eye and smiled at Chloe for a moment before her face dropped in confusion. She reached up and touched her cheek, furrowing her eyebrows. She trailed her fingers across her cheek to her mouth, touching the gauze. "Leave it in there, baby." She looked up at Chloe as she gripped the gauze between her thumb and index finger, ready to pull it out. "Beca, I'm serious." She grabbed Beca's hand and pulled it from her mouth.

"I need to take it out!" She attempted to shout, but it came out tired and muffled. She pouted and lifted her hand up to touch Chloe's face. "You're so pretty, babe. Are you a parking ticket? Because fine." Chloe threw her head back and laughed at Beca's failed attempt at a pick up line. "I wanna get up." The brunette started to turn in her spot, ready to roll off the chair. Chloe put her hands out and grabbed Beca's hips to keep her there.

"You need to stay in the chair, Beca." Beca turned back onto her back and smirked.

"I'll stay if you give me a kiss."

"I can't kiss you right now. Please just stay in your seat for me? I'll love you forever."

"Oh god! That's even better! I'll stay in my seat." Chloe grabbed Beca's hand and kissed lightly over her Band-Aid.

"Good girl. Thank you." Beca smiled and looked lovingly at Chloe.

"I love you, red panda."

"I love you, too." She placed a soft kiss to Beca's temple.

"Chlo, I really love you." She looked up at Chloe with watery eyes.

"Beca, baby. Please don't cry. I love you too."

"Yeah, but I just love you, Chloe." Chloe pushed hair from Beca's face.

"I know, sweetheart. I know." Just as Beca was about to respond, there was a knock on the door. "Come in!" Doctor Camden entered the room holding some paperwork and a packet with an oral syringe.

He stood at the desk with the computer and began highlighting things on the paper. Beca began humming and singing loudly to herself so Chloe stood up and made her way to the surgeon so she could hear him explaining things. He started to explain to Chloe how to clean her gums, things Beca can and can't eat for the time being and everything that Chloe needs to know to take care of Beca.

"Babe!" Chloe turned her head when Beca called out for her. She saw the brunette holding one of her bloody gauze in her left hand.

"Beca, I told you not to touch those." By now Doctor Camden saw Beca had taken the gauze from her mouth excused himself to get more.

"Catch!"

"Beca don't you dare!" Beca attempted to throw the gauze, but instead of letting it go mid-air, she let her arm go through the motions of throwing and let the gauze go when her hand was inches from the floor. "Rebecca, quit it." Chloe said through gritted teeth. Doctor Camden returned moments later and quickly inserted the gauze into her mouth.

/

Chloe finally got Beca home. After the whole gauze fiasco and Beca dubbing herself as 'speed racer' when one of the hygienists wheeled her out to the car. Getting Beca out of the car was a lot easier than getting her in the car. Beca was eager to get inside and take a nap. She spent the whole car ride telling Chloe how she was going to 'nap so hard she was going to wake up needing another nap'. When she led Beca into the house through the garage, Frankie immediately ran up to Beca and hugged her legs. Beca looked down at her daughter and smiled.

"Hi mama! Why your face like that?" Beca looked up and Chloe with a worried expression on her face.

"What's wrong with my face?"

"Ah, I thought I heard you, Beca." Aubrey came into the room with Callie in her arms. Beca gave a lazy solute.

"General." She leaned down a bit to get eye level with Callie. "Hi, chunky monkey." Callie furrowed her eyebrows and gave Beca a dirty look. "Hmm. Tough crowd."

"She's probably wondering why your cheeks look like hers." Aubrey said, adjusting Callie when she started getting fussy.

"Where's Stace?" Beca asked, looking around the kitchen.

"In here Becs!" She heard Stacie shout from the family room. Beca pointed in that direction and unsteadily walked into the family room. Stacie was sitting on the couch with her legs propped up on one of Frankie's toys. The taller brunette was now seven months pregnant and she just looked over it. Beca plopped down next to her best friend and smiled wide, making bloody drool slip from the corners of her mouth.

"Ew, Mama B. That's gross." Stacie grabbed a baby wipe from the package resting next to her on the arm of the couch and she wiped the drool away gently.

"You're so nice to me, Stacie. I love you." Beca said tearfully. She laid her head on Stacie's shoulder and sniffled. Stacie patted Beca's head softly.

"Okay, Becs. I love you, too."

"Can I take a nap on your boobs?" Stacie shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly, scrolling through her phone. Beca shifted so she was lying comfortably on Stacie's chest. Stacie continued to absentmindedly play with her best friend's hair while she looked through Facebook. When she noticed the smaller brunette starting to drool she carefully placed a baby wipe on her shirt, under Beca's mouth.

/

Beca had been sleeping on Stacie's chest for around thirty minutes. She was snoring loudly in Stacie's ear, but she didn't really care. She had been really hormonal lately and found comfort in cuddling with her best friend. Frankie came running into the family room around this time, Callie crawling behind her as fast as her little hands and legs can take her. Frankie stood between Stacie's legs and patted on her knees.

"Aunt Cee, mommy says lunch time!" The toddler said excitedly. Stacie pushed some stray hairs out of her niece's face.

"Is it? Did she tell you what we are having? Cause your little cousin is making me really picky." Frankie nodded and put her hand on Stacie's baby bump.

"Uh huh! Mommy said," Frankie paused and scrunched up her face, trying to remember what her mom told her. ", she said floppy hoes." Stacie laughed loudly, jostling Beca and making her jolt awake. She wiped the drool off her face and stared tiredly at Stacie.

"What's so funny that you laughed loud enough to shake the earth?" Beca asked, slightly annoyed.

"Frankie, tell mama what mommy made for lunch."

"Floppy hoes!" She said confidently, throwing her hands in the air. Callie finally made it to the couch and giggled at her silly older sister.

"I don't think that's right, kiddo." Beca said groggily, wincing at the pain she felt in her mouth.

"Thank you for relaying that message, Franny. Your mama and I will be there in a minute."

"Okay!" She jumped and ran out of the room and back to the kitchen, leaving Callie on the floor with a pout on her face. The baby sighed dramatically and began crawling towards the kitchen, smacking her hands on the hardwood loudly as she did so. Beca guessed that was her version of stomping away angrily.

"Let's go, chipmunk. I have floppy hoes to eat." Stacie said, laughing lightly as she shoved Beca off the couch. "I need your help getting off the couch though." Beca stood up and held both her hands out for Stacie. The taller brunette gripped them and Beca yanked her up, expertly avoiding getting impaled by her pregnant belly.

Beca groggily followed Stacie into the kitchen. Aubrey stood up to make sure Stacie got into her seat okay. Chloe stood up and grabbed Beca's hand, leading her to the kitchen sink. She pulled out the packet the papers the doctor gave her as well as the oral syringe. She read the packet to herself and grabbed the box of salt from the cabinet and filled a bowl with warm water. She added the salt to the water and filled the syringe with the salt water. She carefully pulled out the gauze and flushed her gums. Once her mouth was clean, she gave her some ibuprofen. Beca took her seat next to Frankie and the redhead set a bowl of applesauce in front of her. Beca groaned in displeasure and looked up at Callie who seemed jealous that Beca got applesauce and she was eating pureed carrots and buttered noodles.

"I'll trade you, Callie Cat. Actually, you can keep the carrots." Callie smiled at Beca and the spoonful of carrots that Chloe just fed her came spilling out of her cheeks.

All the girls sat around the table and enjoyed their lunch of sloppy Joes. Chloe talked about how Beca acted after her surgery and the brunette rolled her eyes and refused to believe it. Stacie told Aubrey and Chloe about Frankie calling their lunch 'floppy hoes' and when the toddler saw it made everyone laugh, she began to repeat it. That earned her a scolding from Chloe and a 'mom look' from Beca because was too damn tired and in too much pain to discipline.

After lunch was finished, Aubrey decided it was time for them to head home. She knew both Stacie and Beca were exhausted at this point and wanted them both to get some rest. Once they all said their goodbyes, Chloe flushed out Beca's gums again and replaced the gauze in her mouth.

"Becs, would you be opposed to napping down here? I want to be able to take care of you, but the girls won't be happy being confined upstairs. I'll try really hard to keep them quiet."

"Babe, I'm so tired I could sleep comfortably on a rock." Beca tiredly shuffled over to the couch, ready to lie down.

"Wait!" Chloe put her hand on Beca's shoulders to stop her. "Sleep on the recliner. Just for now. I was reading that it's good to keep your head upright." Beca just nodded and made her way to the recliner, pressing the button to raise the footrest, but keeping the top half of her body upright. Chloe grabbed a blanket from the linen cabinet and covered Beca up. Beca mumbled a half-assed 'goodnight' and fell asleep.

Chloe was able to keep the girls quiet for about forty-five minutes. They could only stay interested in Frozen for so long, especially when they had a sleeping and hurting mom to bug. Frankie, being the instigator she is, decided that she needed to be sitting on Beca's lap in order to enjoy the movie quietly. Frankie climbed on to the recliner and sat herself on Beca's lap. Because Callie was basically Frankie's shadow at this point, she crawled her way over to Beca's chair, started smacking on the arm of it and began whining. Chloe sprung up from her spot on the couch and picked up Callie. The tiny redhead immediately began squirming and started to cry.

"Shh, Callie. Mama is sleeping. Come sit on my lap." Chloe sat back down and nestled Callie on her lap. The baby didn't like it at all and she reached her arms out towards her sleeping mama. "Alright. Jesus." Chloe stood up and tiptoed to Beca. She carefully pulled back the blanket a bit and placed Callie under it, tucking part of it between the sides of the chair to create a pouch. Beca cracked an eye open at the movement and instinctively wrapped her arms around both her girls.

"I've got them." Beca mumbled sleepily. She absentmindedly began to rub both Frankie and Callie's arms softly with her fingertips, making both of them drowsy. "If they're falling asleep, turn that fuckin movie off." She added after fifteen minutes. Chloe grabbed the Xbox remote and exited out of the DVD playing. She opened Netflix and browsed through it, settling on watching Parks and Rec. She turned down the volume and snuggled back into the couch. "Will you turn the light off, too?" Beca said not even a minute after Chloe got comfortable. The redhead sighed and stood up, making her way over to the light switch and shutting it off.

"Anything else before I sit back down, babe?"

"I need a kiss." Beca said with her eyes still closed, but Chloe could see her smiling around her gauze. She bit her lip and made her way over to Beca, pressing light kisses all over her face, making her sigh contently. She also placed a kiss on both Callie and Frankie's forehead. Both girls were now sleeping comfortably on Beca's lap. The redhead made her way back to the couch and sprawled out, enjoying not having to share the space. "Hey, Chlo?" Beca asked a few minutes later, startling Chloe.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you so much, dude." She said, with a slight whine in her voice. Chloe chuckled and looked over at Beca, who somehow managed to fully knock out in the span of about two seconds.

"I love you, too, Bec."

[moonlightgukkie]

2020 Fic Rec Masterlist

Here’s an updated version of my 2019 fic recommendations masterlist! There are so many more amazing pieces of work I have read on this app, but this is a list of my favorites. Please be sure to check out these wonderful authors and their work(s)! <3 (also thank you to the authors that showed love the first time this was posted, ily)

“if i told you” by @gukyi​​ genre​: fluff, comedy, angst, friends2lovers!au

summary​: in order to pay for uni, jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself, donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses, he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

one shot​, two shot, series

“awkwardly in love” by @strawberrynamjoon​

genre​: college, childhood friends!au, fluff, humor

summary​: even if everything changed, yours and jeongguk’s friendship would always stay the same - at least you thought so, but jokes on your, cupid had other plans for the two of you, making you reconsider everything you thought you knew about your best friend of 12 years.

one shot​, two shot, series

“one thing right” by @hobios​ genre​: fake marriage!au, enemies2lovers, angst, smut, humor, slow burn

summary​: desperate to get your ailing mother into the best care possible, you ask your childhood friend turned enemy to marry you for his health insurance benefits, the only problem is it’s illegal, and he’s the sheriff. and you swore to hate him since the day he broke your best friend’s heart.

one shot, two shot, ​series (COMPLETED) 

“inkling” by @gguksgalaxy​ genre​: smut, angst, tattoo artist!jjk

summary​: jeongguk is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlor. in other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. why? well, you’re not entirely sure but him ditching you after a very heated makeout session sure isn’t a good sign. his extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on...right?

one shot​, two shot, series

“bandslam 1″ by @ironicarmy​ genre​: drummer!jjk, gutarist!oc, angst, smut, rock band!au

summary​: cocky drummer jeon jeongguk has never been the type to hate anyone, but when his best friend taehyung unexpectedly leaves the band and leaves you in his place, he can’t really blame himself when he acts disdain towards you. not even when there’s a prize at stake.

one shot, two shot, ​series (IN PROGRESS)

“the phantom knight” by @lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr​

genre​: medieval!jjk, angst, action, dragon!jjk, fantasy!au

summary​: legend speaks of a fearless knight... a knight so strong he could move mountains, sent to protect us from the terror of the moon dragon. before the reign of kim namjoon began, before peace was formed between the nations, the moon dragon reigned over them all. terrorizing the kingdoms with a ruthless vengeance. vengeance for the extinction of its own kind. a vendetta which only the phantom knight could stop.

one shot, two shot, ​series (IN PROGRESS)

“one time, in your room” by @ubemango​

genre​: college!au, smut

summary​: there are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (you can think about jeongguk’s dick later.)

one shot, two shot, ​series

“frost impressions” by @fortunexkookie​ genre​: teacher!au, gamer!au, smut, angst, enemies2lovers

summary​: jeongguk is so disgustingly smitten with his new coworker that he ends up making a terrible first impression, and neither of them realize they’ve actually been in love with each other for the better part of a decade.

one shot​, two shot, series

“melomaniac” by @jeonscript​ genre​: band!au, punk!jjk, friends2lovers, smut, angsty fluff

summary​: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jeongguk and yet you know you shouldn’t be because he’s your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.

one shot​, two shot, series

“worshippers of the sea” by ​@jimlingss​

genre​: pirate!au, mermaid!au, angst, fluff

summary​: you are the greatest pirate to set sail across the ocean and self-proclaimed ruler of the ocean. but when the true god of the sea catches wind of your hubris, he punishes you - taking your legs and turning it into a tail.

one shot​, two shot, series

“the burning flame” by ​@bangtanfanfiction​ genre​: fantasy!au, angst, action, fluff, dragon rider!oc/jjk

summary​: you’re sent as a scout from the academy into enemy territory, tasked with the mission to make sure the king doesn’t unleash another war on the four nations. during your quest, you get tangled up with a lone rider, as stubborn and hard as the scales of his dragon.

one shot​, two shot, series

“bitchin” by @kinktae​ genre​: 1980s!au, angst, smut, idiots2lovers, fluff, humor

summary​: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color of neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jeongguk.

one shot, two shot, series (IN PROGRESS) 

“moirai” by @taeken-my-heart​

genre: soulmate!au, angst, smut, fluff, enemies2lovers

summary: on your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. the name of your soulmate. it’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brush aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. but what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake up to find the name of your mortal enemy jeon jeongguk?

one shot, two shot, series (IN PROGRESS) 

“concentric” by ​@gingerpeachtae​ genre​: fantasy!au, angst, fluff, enemies2lovers. smut

summary​: you had been ready for the end of the semester. you had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, park jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was full of magic, war, and wonder. so, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

one shot, two shot, ​series (IN PROGRESS)

“more than words” by @ironicarmy​ genre: best friends!au, smut, fluff, angst, humor

summary: you & namjoon have been painfully (and blindingly) pining for each other since your teenage years, much to your friends’ chagrin. so, unbeknownst to both of you, seokjin and the rest plan to finally make you confess during a ski trip.

one shot, two shot, series

“try me” by @jjkfire​ genre​: fluff, slight angst, idiots to lovers, college!au, rugby!au

summary​: you wanted nothing more than to leave behind your old self when you graduated from high school and moved on to college to play rugby, but when you see your high school classmate, resident fuckboy and captain, kim namjoon, at the rugby department orientation, you feel like everything might fall apart.

one shot​, two shot, series

“all you knead is love” by ​@loveejoon​ genre​: baker!oc, apprentice!joonie, fluff, minimal angst

summary​: stumbling upon a help wanted sign and desperately needing a job, namjoon walks into your small bakery shop, after tasting your bread and ​god​, how it melted in his mouth, he insisted on being your assistant, you wholeheartedly agreed, not realizing the dimpled man was a klutz, and that’s the ​nicest​ way you could put it.

one shot​, two shot, series

“bloom” by​​ @hobidreams​ genre​: assassin!reader, florist!joonie, smut, action, angst, some fluff

summary​: family is who you kill for, who you die for. in this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. but when such orders command you abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. that is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into ​bloom.​

one shot​, two shot, series

“beastly gods” by @lemonjoonah​ genre​: hybrid!au, drama, thriller, smut, angst

summary​: “​don’t leave the forest​,” a rule that you’ve been forced to follow since birth, but you are tired of living in this wooden cage. out of desperation you cut a deal with taehyung, who claims to be the only one who can get you out safely, even though he might be just as dangerous as the god you’re trying to escape.

one shot​, two shot, series

~ hi! if you made it this far down the post i would like to thank both @jjkfire​ and @gingerpeachtae​ for being so kind & helping me recover this masterlist. Please be sure to check out the works of these amazing angels!! 

[donteattheappleshook]

She Came From the Water Chapter 6/?

Summary

Between his dissatisfying job, a constant battle to keep seeing his daughter, and a history of mistakes, losses, and broken dreams, Killian Jones has no place for magic in his life. But when he pulls in his fishing nets one evening only to find a woman caught in them, his life becomes infinitely more complicated. Is she a siren, a selkie, like his daughter believes, or just another lost soul like himself? Suddenly, his life is a thing of fairytales; beautiful women hidden away in cottages, selkie husbands coming back to claim them, and, just maybe, a chance at happily ever after.

A Captain Swan AU based on the film Ondine (2009) for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Rated M for eventual smut.

I’m going to stop guessing at how long this fic is going to be.

Read it on Ao3  or Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5

Thank you so much @ultraluckycatnd​ for helping me through all my insecurities about this fic <3 you’re such a lovely beta and person <3

Big thank you as well to @elizabeethan​ @the-darkdragonfly​ and @xhookswenchx​ for letting me brainstorm out loud to you!

Finally thank you to @itsfabianadocarmo​ for this lovely aesthetic that made me start writing this fic again. 

****

Part 6

"Someone’s here." 

She looks outside again and Killian tenses. Nobody ever comes out here. Not unannounced. “Go into the bedroom," he tells her, absentmindedly stroking her arm. "I’ll see who it is.” 

He does his best to stay calm. Surely it’s David or Mary Margaret come to say hello. They just forgot to call. But he can’t shake the feeling that her past has finally shown up, that someone has come to break apart this little world they’ve created for themselves over the last three days and he grieves it already. 

Once she’s shut the door to the bedroom, Killian heads across the kitchen. He can hear it now, someone coming up the drive, steps light and quick like someone sneaking up, trying to avoid being seen. He opens the door, stepping outside in an attempt to keep whoever it is from coming in when suddenly the mystery visitor ducks out from the treeline. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Alice,” he calls and her head snaps up. “What are you doing here? You know you’re not allowed to come without your mum’s permission.” The words burn in his throat as they do every time he has to say them, every time Alice disregards the custody rules set in place. 

“Mum’s not home,” she shrugs. “Besides, I wanted to hear the rest of the story. Did she get her memories back?” Alice continues, ducking right under his arm and into the house behind him. He whirls around. His daughter might not be a threat or someone from Swan’s past coming to take her away, but she doesn’t want to be seen. 

“Alice, wait,” he starts but she’s already headed into the kitchen and dragged a chair to the counter so she can boost herself up and reach the cabinet. She beams when she finds the Poptarts. She’s climbing down and ripping into the bag before he’s even reached her so he can make sure she doesn’t break her neck on the way. “Careful,” he warns but is, of course, ignored. She’s utterly unphased as he scoops her up under her arms to set her safely on the ground. 

“So did she?” she asks again.

“Did she what? Who?” Killian’s head is spinning. 

“The girl in the net,” Alice clarifies, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Really Dad, isn’t this supposed to be your story.”

“Sweetheart, now isn’t a good time.”

“Why not?” she asks and just then the kettle goes off. Alice looks at it and then at the two mugs next to the stove. Killian casts a slightly frantic glance at his bedroom door and her gaze follows him. “Do you have a friend over?” she cocks her head. “Is Ruby visiting? Why is she hiding? Are you doing grown up things again?” 

Killian is going to have a heart attack. “No,” he answers, hoping that Swan didn’t hear anything. “What are grown up things?” 

“I don’t know. You said you’d only tell me when I was older.” 

“Alice I-” The door creaks open and Swan pokes her head out. Killian whirls around, shocked, and wondering how much of the conversation she overheard. She smiles shyly and Killian looks between her and Alice, who beams. How is he going to explain-

“Hello,” his daughter says, setting down her snack and heading over to greet the woman now stepping out of his room. 

“Hello,” Swan answers. Killian stares at them both, unsure what to do or say, worried that this will make the woman staying with him feel betrayed, that it will traumatize his child in some way. But neither of them seem particularly angry or prone to holding this over his head in therapy, so he hesitates. 

“Um, Alice, this is Swan. She’s staying with me for a bit.”

“Oh, we’ve met,” Alice says. Killian’s eyes snap to Swan who nods, looking guilty. When had they met? Why had neither told him? Selkies. Suddenly it makes sense. “Oh, don’t be upset,” his daughter continues dismissively. “I asked her to keep it a secret.”

“Do you think you could keep me a secret?” Swan asks then, casting a glance at him, as though asking for permission. He nods. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.” 

“Why not?” Alice asks, frowning. And then her eyes widen in understanding. “Of course! Because of your seal coat!” Both the adults look at her in confusion. “You wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re here if you can’t remember where you left your seal coat. They could trap you.” 

She casts an uncertain glance at Killian. He doesn’t want to lie to Alice, but he also doesn’t believe that he’d be able to talk her out of her certainty about Swan being a selkie if he tried. He clears his throat, absentmindedly stroking the back of his daughter’s hair. “Right. So let’s not tell anyone just yet, okay, love?”

Alice nods. “I did some research you know,” she starts. “Selkies aren’t dangerous. They’re not like mermaids. They save sailors from drowning rather than pulling them under. Which is strange since in this case it’s you who was saved from drowning. Although, I don’t know if you can actually drown if you’re a seal-woman…” 

She continues on, rattling off facts and theories and rambling and Killian casts a hopeless, affectionate glance at Swan who is watching his daughter with patient interest. Alice has it backwards; he might have been the one who pulled her from the water, but it was he who’d been drowning. She’s reached through all the misery and the darkness he’d let himself surrender to and pulled him back to the surface, breathed air and life back into his lungs.

“And of course you can swim very fast and very long since you can breathe underwater,” Alice continues. “I wonder if you swim as fast as a seal? Although you were swimming without your seal coat. I don’t know what the rules are for a selkie in human form.” She frowns at Swan then. “Is it much much different? Swimming with human legs? It must be more difficult -”

“Do you swim, Alice?” she asks then and Alice shakes her head. 

“No. I’ve never had lessons. And Dad can’t teach me.” Killian glances awkwardly at his feet and shrugs when Swan looks at him in surprise. But she doesn’t pry. Instead, she turns back to his daughter. 

“Would you like to learn?” she asks. “... Unless you’re afraid of the water,” she suggests when Alice hesitates and there’s no challenge in her voice, no taunt, just understanding, like maybe she understands that fear. 

“I wouldn’t be afraid of the water if I had a sea creature with me,” the girl beams and Swan returns it. 

“I can teach you. If it’s okay with your dad.” 

Killian had been watching the interaction between the two in stunned disbelief. The way she’s watching Swan, with awe and admiration and enchantment, he’s never seen Alice so taken with anyone in his life. He wonders if everyone who meets her instantly falls in love with her or if it’s just Joneses. 

“Aye. It’s alright with me. But won’t you be cold?”

“It’s not that cold!” Alice insists and he can already see that there’s a tantrum brewing under the surface if he dares to deny her the chance to swim with a sea creature. 

He tries to hide his smirk. “Alright, but the second your lips turn blue we’re coming in.” 

He doesn’t think she’ll last very long. While the wind is mild today the water was still cold against his skin. No harm in a few minutes in the sea, he reasons, children here grow up with the cold in their blood and the water in their veins. He likes the idea of Alice learning to swim; he thinks he’ll sleep better knowing he doesn’t have to worry about her every time she wades out too far or is on the boat with him. 

Swan reaches out and Alice takes her hand and the two head off out the door towards the shore. They’re still on the steps when Swan turns back to him. “Aren’t you coming?” she asks, as though it should have been obvious that he was invited. He’d assumed this was girl-bonding. He smiles, happy to be included. 

It’s not until they reach the water and Alice kicks off her shoes and socks, dipping her toes in the chilly water that she turns to them both in panic. “I don’t have a swimsuit!” she realises. 

“That’s alright. Neither do I,” Swan consoles her. 

“What will we wear then?” 

Swan considers this for a moment and then shrugs. “Underwear,” she tells her and then pulls her dress off over her head. 

Killian’s mind suddenly goes blank, every thought and sound drowned out by the racing of his heart as his eyes cast over the long lines of her legs. His jaw drops, in shock, in awe, in disbelief. He watches the way her hair falls softly over the curve of her back, every smooth, pale inch of her on display and beautiful under his gaze, smile bright and shining as she laughs. She can’t be real. 

It’s only when she turns to look at him, and her smile falters a little with curiosity, lip catching between her teeth, that he realises he’s staring. He’s suddenly far too aware of his limbs, feeling awkward and clumsy and like he’s taking up far too much space. 

He darts his eyes away, staring fixedly out at the horizon as he tries to calm his racing heart. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head as discreetly as he can to try to clear it. But he can’t get the image of her out of his mind. 

He tries to focus on Alice as the two of them wade out into the water, his daughter letting out a shrieking giggle when the cold reaches her knees, her fingers white knuckled against the woman’s. Killian’s certain that if he just stays right here and doesn’t move, doesn’t let his gaze stray from the spot right in front of his feet, that he can get through this without making a fool of himself. 

“Aren’t you coming in, Dad?” Alice calls and the blood drains from his face. 

“It wouldn’t hurt you to learn too!” He glances over at them and Swan throws a look at him, the challenge in it raised with her brow. 

He’d really, really rather not. He can barely handle the effect this woman has on him with all her clothes on. But he notices again the way Alice is clutching her hand, the slight nervousness to her posture despite her incessant bravery and he knows he has to. He kicks off his boots and his socks and leaves them on the shore before wading out after them. As soon as he reaches Alice, she clings tightly to his hand. 

“You swim with all your clothes on?” Swan teases and he smirks.

“I don’t swim.” She rolls her eyes, clearly not letting him off so easily. “Little girls and selkies might not get cold, but fishermen do.” She laughs and, as the water reaches his hips and shoots ice up his spine, he’s glad he’ll have at least one less thing to worry about. 

“Too bad.” She says it so softly he almost doesn’t hear it but his gaze snaps to hers, eyes wide. She’s focused on Alice now, asking if she’s feeling scared, and he wonders if he imagined it. 

“Okay, lie back,” she instructs and lets go of the little girl’s hand so that she can brace one arm under her shoulders and one under her legs, Alice squishing his fingers between both of her hands. “You’re doing great,” Swan encourages even as his daughter flounders a little nervously, letting herself be held up. After a long moment, she finally lets go of his hand and tentatively trails her arms through the water, toes kicking gently and untested. 

“I’m swimming!” she exclaims, nervous laughter bubbling out of her and Killian grins at her proudly. 

“You are!” Swan agrees proudly. “Look at you go, you’re a sea creature!” 

“You’re a natural, love,” he smiles at her. The two of them wade out a little further, Swan guiding the girl in circles, always holding her steady as she gets the hang of floating and he watches, amazed by how taken Alice is and how taken Swan seems to be as well. He’s never even dreamed of letting a woman into his life, not when that life includes Alice and he doesn’t even know if there’s room for someone else in his heart. But seeing them together, he can’t get over how perfectly she fits, or how much he likes it. 

Suddenly, Swan stops, gaze darting down to her foot beneath the waves and he worries she’s maybe cut herself on a rock. She continues to stare, brow furrowing further as she shifts her feet under her. He can see the anxiety building in her and he comes towards them, calling her name softly in question.

“Go to your dad for a second,” she says quickly and Alice must sense her change in mood because she practically leaps across the small space into his arms. He hoists her out of the water and onto his hip just as Swan takes a deep, gasping breath and dives down beneath it. She’s under for a long moment, just long enough that Killian fears he may have to go after her, but panics knowing he can’t do so with Alice out this deep. 

Finally, she breaks the surface, swallowing air in heavy swallows and the relief washes over him so forcefully that he’s made dizzy for a moment. She’s clutching something. It’s dark and leathery and covered in moss and seaweed. 

“What’s that?” Alice asks and Swan stares hard at it. 

“I don’t know. Just… something I found.”

Her eyes go wide suddenly. “Is it your seal-coat?” she asks excitedly.

“Maybe.” Her voice sounds far away.

“Are you going to bury it?”

Swan looks at them then for the first time since before she dove under the water, uncertain. But as her gaze turns to Alice, her expression softens, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Should I?”

“Yes. Then you could stay for seven years.” 

Her smile softens even more. “Would you like that?” Killian can’t help the way his breath catches when her eyes flit to his beneath her lashes. 

“Very much.” He hopes she knows, even if he can’t say it, how much he’d like it too. 

She clutches the leather and weeds to her chest. “Well then, I guess we better bury it.” 

Killian carries his daughter back to shore, Swan following closely behind them. Alice goes on at length without need for an audience about how and where they should hide the ‘seal coat’. Every time he glances back at the woman trailing in their wake, she’s fixated on the item in her hands, her expression unreadable. 

It can’t be her seal coat. That would be impossible, ludicrous, the stuff of fairytales. He appreciates that she’s doing this for Alice, letting her play make believe, indulging her games and fantasies. But the way she’s staring at the waterlogged bundle, like it’s something overwhelming and terrifying and familiar... it makes him doubt everything he believes. 

Maybe she is a selkie. Maybe she did swim here to escape a selkie husband and wind up in his net and in his life. All he knows is fairytale or not, figurative or not, her burying it means something. ‘Would you like that?’ she’d asked. She didn’t have to ask. If she wants to stay, seven years or a hundred, he won’t send her away. 

When they reach shore, Alice wiggles her way out of his arms and, after a small battle over the fact that she had to put her jeans and sweater back on (which she only agreed to when she saw that Swan was dressing as well), she begins leading them off back towards the house. 

“Where are we burying it?” Swan asks, still clutching it carefully. 

“I know the perfect place!” Alice insists.

Killian watches the woman carefully. Every now and then her eyes dart out around her, like she’s expecting someone or something, like she’s being watched. He tries to settle the chill in his bones, the worry that something is coming, that it’s on it’s way now to take her away and ruin this. He fears it; he can’t lose her, not yet. He hasn’t had enough time. He’ll never have enough time. 

Alice runs off ahead of them, disappearing around the back of the cottage. He doesn’t worry. She’s spent years getting lost and found on the grounds and the cliffs and the woods around his home. She knows every inch. When he looks to Swan again she’s frowning, gnawing at her lip as her fingers scratch at the moss and the mud that cover her package. 

He reaches out, fingers brushing gently along her spine, hesitant in his desire to comfort her. She glances up at him, snapped out of whatever train of thought she’d gotten lost in for a little while. He knows the feeling well. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, fingertips still barely touching the dampness of her dress, droplets falling from her hair and onto his knuckles. She watches him for a moment. They’ve stopped walking. He can’t make out her expression. She looks torn, pained and confused and so lost and he wants to help, but he doesn’t know how. 

Her eyes are uncertain as she looks down at the would-be seal coat and then back at him. “I -”

“Come on!” Alice shouts and her mouth snaps shut. Killian turns to wave at his daughter who rolls her eyes in exasperation, waiting with arms crossed. When he looks back at the woman beside him the helpless expression is gone, hidden behind some wall he doesn’t know if he can climb. 

“Swan?” 

She smiles, bright and shining and a lie. “I’m fine. Let’s go,” she insists, heading off after Alice and leaving him no choice but to follow. 

They find her in the greenhouse, an old, broken down thing that had been here when they bought the cottage and that his mother had always meant to turn into something beautiful. She’d run out of time though, and while Killian once swore to himself that he’d finish it for her, the decaying wood of the foundation speaks of his empty promises and forgotten good intentions. 

Swan looks around in wonder, eyes wide and mouth agape as she takes in the overgrown structure. Nature has overtaken it, moss and weeds and late season flowers climbing along the beams and covering the cracked stone floor. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, gazing up at the canopy of leaves that wind around the remains of the ceiling, some trickling down so low that she reaches out to brush them with her fingertips. 

He’s taken in by the sight of her, by the way she finds beauty in the things he’s grown to loath and makes them magical. It’s as though the light she carries flows from her hands and into the room itself, turning the dark and shaded ruins into something wonderful. Strange and wonderful, like everything about her. He wonders if this is how Alice sees the world, remembers what it was like to see adventure and magic where others saw nothing. Perhaps he could see it this way again some day, or maybe it’s enough to surround himself with those who do. 

“Over here,” Alice calls and they both follow her to the far end of the structure. She’s trying to get a piece of cracked stone loose, the floor crumbling beneath them. 

“Here, let me,” he insists and kneels down to pry it free before she hurts herself. The rock lifts fairly easily, revealing soft, damp earth beneath it and Alice grins. 

“Right here,” she says, kneeling down beside him and beginning to dig. 

Swan finally sets down her burden and joins them on the ground, fingers sinking deep into the soil as she helps Alice dig. She looks at him, brow raised meaningfully and nodding at the ever growing hole. He shakes his head, laughing but complies, scooping mud and dirt and worms until it’s deep enough and she stands, picking up the bundle and setting it carefully inside. He’s never seen Alice so excited, and that’s saying something. 

“Will we remember where it is?” Swan asks as they pile dirt over it. “In seven years?”

“Should we mark it?” Killian asks, trying to remember if he grabbed his pocket knife or left it on the boat. “We could put something in the wood.”

“No, that’s too obvious,” Alice shakes her head. “Someone could find it!” 

Swan bites back a smile and turns to him. “Yeah, come on, Killian,” she sighs with a smirk. “Way too obvious.” He raises a brow at her, a disbelieving grin pulling at his lips. Is she teasing him? 

“I know,” his daughter says, standing. She walks out where the back door would have been, feet carefully placed one in front of the other until she reaches a giant oak tree that’s been on the grounds longer than Killian’s been alive. She turns to them. “Seventeen steps to the fairy tree.” 

“Brilliant,” he tells her and she looks very proud of herself. He doesn’t bother to question the fact that her feet will grow; he doubts she’ll remember this in seven years time. By then she’ll be too grown up, so for now he lets her believe in magic, hopes she continues to for as long as possible. 

“Thank you, Alice,” Swan says, taking her hand when the girl returns to them. 

“Now your selkie husband can’t make you go back!” 

“I have a husband?” she asks. 

“Of course. All selkies do. But now he can’t make you go back to the water for seven years. Not so long as your coat is hidden.” The excitement in his daughter’s eyes is unparalleled and he hates to break this up, but a glance at his watch tells him they need to get going. Alice needs to be home when her mother returns, and he still needs to go to the fishery. 

“Time to get you home, love.”

“Dad, no,” she starts to whine and while it tugs at his heart that she wants to stay, he knows she can’t. 

“Come on, your mum will start to worry.” She won’t. He knows that. She probably won’t even notice Alice is late or gone - who knows where Eloise is anyway - but if she finds out that Alice was here, she’ll make them both suffer for it and he won’t have her keeping his daughter from him any more than she already does. 

“Do I still get to come this weekend?” she asks, stepping back as though she’ll refuse to leave unless he promises. 

“Aye,” he smiles. “For the whole weekend.” Only then does she begrudgingly agree to come with him. The three of them head back out to the cottage, Swan sitting on the front steps and saying goodbye to Alice, saying she hopes she’ll see her soon. 

“Will you still be here Saturday?”

Swan looks at him quickly before answering. He only gives her a hopeful smile. “Yes,” she promises and he has to duck his head to hide his pleased grin. 

“Okay,” Alice agrees and then heads towards his extended hand. She’s only about halfway there when she stops. She turns suddenly, rushing towards Swan and wrapping her arms around her neck in a fierce hug. 

The woman looks stunned for a second, thrown back by the force of the small girl crashing into her, but then she smiles, eyes almost watery as she squeezes her back. Alice whispers something in her ear that he can’t hear and he won’t ask about. Let them have their secrets. One more kind woman in his daughter’s life is not a gift he takes lightly. 

Alice hangs on to his hand for longer than normal on their walk home, regaling him with tales of selkies and what exactly it means to bury her seal coat. He raises an eyebrow at some of the things she tells him she’s read in the books she found at the library, really hoping she doesn’t actually understand some of the stories about women and male selkie lovers. 

“Why seven years?” he asks and she rolls her eyes. 

“Because those are the rules. If she buries her seal coat she can stay for seven years. But burying it just means she has to stay. She can stay if she wants to. Unless her husband decides he wants to take her back. That’s why we had to make sure it was hidden. If he finds it, he’ll take her away.” There’s a hint of heartbreak in her eyes. 

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we hid it so well,” he says, squeezing her hand and her smile is back. 

“You know, Dad,” she says when they’ve been walking a little while. He looks down at her. “Sometimes selkies do stay on land forever. They say that selkies can often find happiness with a…” she frowns, certainly trying to remember whatever book she’s quoting. “A landsman! That’s it. Selkies can often find unexpected happiness with a landsman.”

“Is that so?” he asks, deliberately not acknowledging her meaningful look. 

“Do you think Swan will stay?” she presses.

“I don’t know, love. That’s her choice.” 

“I think she will. I think she likes it here. Maybe you can marry her and then she can stay forever.” 

Killian winces, not ready to get into why he can’t go marrying a woman with no memory who he’s only met three days ago. Especially when even now the thought makes him smile. “Alice…” he starts.

“Why not?” she asks, more to herself. “It makes sense. She’s already living with you, and she likes you.” 

“You think she likes me?” he asks before he can stop himself and regretting it the moment he says it. Alice gives him a sly grin. Killian clears his throat, making a point to sound less excited this time. “What makes you think she wants to stay?”

“She could have taken her seal coat and left.” 

He knows it’s not a seal coat. He knows she’s not obligated to stay for seven years because she hid it in his greenhouse. But he can’t help but hope when he thinks of the way she looked at him when she said they should bury it. It felt like a promise. Maybe not a promise, but the suggestion of one at least. 

“Besides,” Alice says, breaking him from his thoughts. “I’m not oblivious, you know. I’m seven. I know things.”

***

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[milkybonya]

Hello!! I love ur stuff they make my heart flutter hehe🤧 can I request an actor!moonbin au where u are his co star but theres no chemistry between you two. Maybe the director asks you to go on a date or smth to get more comfortable with each other. You can end it however u wantt, hope its not too much!! Thanks!!!

you are so sweet T.T i love this idea so much !! i’ve only just started watching Mermaid Prince too hehe,, also this fic turned out to be a little all over the place oops

it’s okay to feel awkward - Moonbin

Warnings: mentions of trauma involving feeling embarrassed? but it’s very brief!

word count: less than 1k! not long and not short :]

“Cut! Cut!” the director shouts, waving his hands around. He walks over from behind the cameras to where you and Moonbin are standing. Forced to look into each other’s eyes just a second ago, you were now awkwardly looking away from one another.

You and Moonbin were both highly regarded actors, having won awards previously for your skills. So why was it that now that you were acting together, things were so awkward? You couldn’t find the right emotions and you tell that your facial expressions were off, but you had no clue why.

“Moonbin, [y/n], what is going on? I’ve worked with each of you before, but I’ve never seen you like this,” the director says.

“I’m sorry,” you and Moonbin both say as the same time, looking down in shame.

“I can tell you guys are trying but you look at one another like enemies, not lovers. And all of your lines make me cringe instead of making my heart flutter.”

You look at Moonbin who also glances at you, smiling awkwardly.

“I think I understand. You’ve never met before and suddenly you’re acting like lovers from day 1 of the shoot-”

“But that’s what we always do! We’re actors,” you say, laughing.

“That’s true, but I think there’s just no chemistry between you both at all. It happens sometimes, you know. I say we skip your scenes today. We’ll continue filming the parts that don’t have you two in them and you two can go on a date or something.”

“What?!” you and Moonbin both say at the same time again.

“It’s not like I’m asking you to get into an actual relationship or anything! Go out and have a coffee or something. Go on! And let’s retry this at 7pm.”

The director walks away without letting the two of you voice your opinions, and you are left staring at one another.

“Well, I guess we should just do as we’re told,” you tell Moonbin, who laughs while staring at the ground.

Why can’t we meet each other’s eyes?

You grab Moonbin’s arm and move close to him, staring into his eyes. Shocked, he’s forced to do the same, but he quickly pushes you away.

“What are you doing?” he croaks, blushing.

“Why can’t we hold eye contact? We’re so shy around each other,” you say.

“Yeah, and then we end up making our eyes all wide on set so we won’t look away, and then it looks like we hate each other,” Moonbin says, laughing. You laugh along with him.

Hey, this is good! We’re connecting... on the basis that we’re both awkward.

“Well, any places you’d like to go that are not extremely far?” he asks you.

“This drama is often set in a bookstore so... should we try to find a bookstore nearby?”

Moonbin grins at your idea and takes out his phone to search for one.

“There’s one just a ten minute walk away! And there’s a coffee shop in it too,” he says with a smile.

“Okay then, lead the way, Moonbin!” you say, following behind him.

The director looks up from the scripts he’s reading and watches the two of you leave with a smile.

“Gosh, it’s kind of cold today,” you say, rubbing your arms that are only covered by a thin sweater.

“I know,” Moonbin agrees, also curling up while he walks in the sole warmth of his own sweater.

Out of instinct, you almost offered your sweater to him until you remember that you’re wearing nothing underneath, so you laugh to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Moonbin asks, walking faster.

When you tell him what happened, he laughs with you.

“That just shows that you have a good heart,” he tells you.

As the two of you share a smile, you notice a second-hand clothing store behind Moonbin’s head.

“Wait! We can go buy some jackets from that store,” you say, pointing behind him.

After the two of you find a spot to safely cross the street from, you run into the store and sigh in relief, feeling the warm air from the heaters inside.

“Will you let me pick out something for you to wear?” Moonbin asks you eagerly.

“Only if you let me do the same for you!”

“And we both have to wear whatever it is,” Moonbin says with a cheeky grin.

The two of you shake on it and walk around the store in search of jackets.

You end up finding a warm, long fall coat that you could imagine looking really good on Moonbin. Holding onto it tightly, you look around to find Moonbin. Once you recognize him, you run up to him and show him what you’ve found.

“Oh, that actually looks nice! I feel kind of bad now,” he says, showing you the neon windbreaker that he’s picked out.

You laugh.

“It’s a little out there but it isn’t ugly! Maybe it’s time I change my style a bit,” you say.

After purchasing the clothes, you both put on what you bought for each other and walk to the book store more comfortably now.

“I keep wanting to ask about which acting roles you liked in the past and stuff, but I feel like we shouldn’t talk about that,” you admit.

“Me too, like we should try to keep things less professional, right? If that makes sense?” Moonbin raises his eyebrows at you and you nod.

“But part of getting to know one another also includes asking about each other’s jobs and stuff. So I don’t mind if you have things that you want to ask me,” Moonbin says, smiling warmly at you. Every time he looks at you and you meet his eyes, the sun lights up his head from behind and he looks like he is the sun. It makes you feel all warm inside.

“I was going to ask what your favourite role so far has been,” you say, throwing your hands in your pockets.

“Well, there was this one time when I played a really goofy character. He was such a troublemaker and didn’t care about anything. I feel like through playing him, I was able to release all my stress if that makes sense.”

You nod along to his words, appreciating his perspective. Having had to play a similar character before, you had actually found it to be quite difficult. As you talk to Moonbin about this, you find yourselves arriving at the bookstore.

“That was fast,” Moonbin remarks.

Walking in together, you enter a small place with books balanced on every free surface available and overflowing from all the shelves. Chairs, tables, even the cash register counter is stacked with books, and many of them seem to be used. Seeing all these books excites you and you rush inside to take a look. Moonbin watches you peeking at all the books in awe.

“Do you like books?” he asks you.

“I guess you could say that,” you say, opening the cover of a book to find that it used to belong in a high school library.

“The fact that so many people have held these books before really is cool, though,” Moonbin says, also picking up a book.

“Exactly! I wonder where these books have been and who read them,” you wonder out loud.

“If I tell you the kinds of things I like, do you think you could pick out a book for me?” Moonbin asks you, smiling.

You nod.

When he tells you, you search for a book to match his passions.

Video games. Food. Singing. Piano. Music. Dance.

With all of this in mind, what catches your eye is instead a goofy book of poems.

Roses are red / Violets are blue / why do we get scared / when people say boo?

It reminds you of the character that Moonbin described, the one that he enjoyed acting as.

You find Moonbin reading through a book, a trace of a smile on his face as he looks down.

“Moonbin! This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I found his book of poems and it reminded me about the character you told me about earlier,” you say, showing it to him.

He takes it from your hands and reads through a few of the pages, laughing to himself.

“This really sounds like something that character would enjoy! And here, I also picked this up for you,” Moonbin says, handing you what he was originally reading.

As you look through the book, you realize how much it resonates with you. It’s about learning to focus on yourself and avoiding the opinions and presence of others, especially when you feel like they belittle you.

You had told Moonbin about how acting was difficult because of a trauma that you once had where you messed up your lines in such a funny way that all the actors and staff wouldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes. You would have also laughed along, but that was your first acting role and you felt so embarrassed. Since then, it’s been hard on you and you’ve become a perfectionist, never wanting to mess up your lines again. 

“Do you think maybe that’s why things were so difficult this morning?” you ask Moonbin as you walk over to the counter to check out.

“What do you mean?” he asks you as he pays for the book that you gave him.

“Because I’m such a perfectionist and because... you’re such a good actor... I felt so small that the only thing I could express with my face was fear? And it wasn’t the whole wide eyes thing that we mentioned, but just my fear?”

“I think you’ve found the answer,” Moonbin says, winking at you.

“Well, why was it so hard for you, then?” you ask him, also paying for your book.

“Because you’re the great actor here! I was so nervous, and I think we just fed on each other’s nervousness which made things worse.”

Both of you leave the bookstore to go to the coffee shop next door.

“Maybe we should treat the staff to coffee,” you say as you wait in line with Moonbin.

“Whoever loses rock paper scissors has to pay... go!” he says, thrusting scissors in front of you when you choose paper.

“Darn,” you say, pulling out your wallet.

Moonbin laughs, but tells you, “it’s okay, we can split it! I was just joking.”

But you insist that since you lost, you should pay. 

Moonbin still treats you to a dessert of your choice, though.

When the two of you get back to set, feeling much more relaxed and with coffee for all the staff, the director approaches you both.

“Feeling better now?”

You both nod.

“Let’s get back to it!” the director says.

“That was fun,” Moonbin tells you.

“Wanna go back to the bookstore tomorrow?” you ask.

“That sounds great” Moonbin says, grinning.

[putas-in-suffering]

Mermaid

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW 18+ older

Warnings: Language, rough sex (slapping/manhandling), unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluids, female ejaculation, some non-con elements, degradation (name calling), Dark/Dom Miguel, think Miguel and Emily’s fucked up vibe in that one scene...you know the one 😏

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Part 2. Miguel finds out about your tryst with Bishop and things take a dangerous turn.

A/N: Sucias! We got a present for you! We got Part 2 for our previously published Bishop fic Terms of Endearment. Check it out because it does tie in with this one. Also, it has Bishop smut. This has our Cartel Daddy hella mad and hella ready to destroy the pussy. Prepare yourselves because Miguel ain’t about to take it easy on you. Enjoy and share with your fellow sucias! Feedback is the preferred drug for our addiction and greatly appreciated 💖💖

*Read Part 3 here!

(Gif credit to @angels-reyes​​)

You flinched again when Miguel slammed his drink down, the sound angry and stern. He’d been in a bad mood since the moment you’d arrived nearly an hour ago. He’d called you earlier today and requested your presence at his home. He said he wanted to talk something over and insisted on having dinner prepared. You’d hesitated, flashes of letting Bishop Losa fuck you in a storage closet racing through your head. You could tell something was weighing heavy on Miguel’s mind, but you’d let it go and acquiesced to meeting him. Before Miguel was your employer, he was your best friend. And as much as you wanted to call it a night, you went anyway.

After the factory, you’d made more rounds, overseeing the operation and reporting back to Miguel via text. Once you’d gotten the stoic invitation for dinner, you’d raced home and showered the Mayans MC president off your skin. You ignored the pull to relive those memories as your fingers grazed your body, halting on the areas that Bishop had gripped so fiercely. There weren’t any visible markings, but you didn’t need to see it to know it had been there. You could still feel it.

You’d redressed for your impromptu dinner in a silk golden dress. The sleeves were long, the waist cinched, the skirt flowing over your hips and stopping around your ankles. There was a slit down the side, breaking up what would be a normally stylish conservative dress. You had yet to wear it. It was a gift from Miguel for your birthday a few months ago. You weren’t sure why you suddenly felt the need to wear it, but you’d be lying if you said guilt had no part in it. What you’d done was reckless and irresponsible, and if Miguel found out…well guilt would be the last thing you’d feel.

Another harsh clang of silverware pulled you from your thoughts. You winced as Miguel took a forceful bite of his steak, chewing with all the intensity of a caged pit bull. Beyond pleasantries, you hadn’t spoken to each other. The air was obviously tense, the mood uncomfortable. Miguel had purposefully made it that way. And you weren’t sure why.

“You look beautiful.”

The words made you pause mid-chew. Your eyes found Miguel’s staring back at you, his gaze somewhat softened but no less intense. He cleared his throat as he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, sipping from the amber liquid in his crystal glass.

“Uh, thank you.” You replied dumbly, still caught off guard by his choice in topic.

“The dress I bought you?”

You nodded, watching as he lent back in his seat to appraise you. You shifted awkwardly, feeling something simmering just beneath the surface. The house was empty, the staff dismissed for the night. The space was dimly lit. The reflection of the pool just beyond the glass doors was the only light outside. It should’ve been relaxing, romantic even, but the rigidity of the night was fast bleeding out and all over the white linen cloth that adorned the table.

“I have quite an eye. Fits you perfectly.” He continued on, swishing the whiskey in his glass.

“You do.”

“Why now?” He questioned, brow arched in your direction.

You straightened, the food on your plate long forgotten as you reached for your own glass. You swallowed the bitter liquid, the burn doing little to ease your frayed nerves. You weren’t afraid of Miguel, but you were afraid of the things he could do. You’d seen him at his worst and while you never expected to feel that kind of wrath directed at you, you couldn’t say it was impossible. You’d obviously done something to upset him. And you had an inkling of what that might be.

“Just felt right. Thought you’d like to see it.” You replied with a smile, hoping to convince both him and yourself.

Miguel returned the tight smile with his own, nodding as he adjusted the gold cuff links on his left wrist.

“I’ve known you a long time. Verdad?” He asked, the tone letting you know that it wasn’t a question that really needed an answer.

You did anyway.

“Yes.”

“And just like I’m sure you know me, I know you.”

Again it wasn’t something that needed verification, but you nodded in confirmation.

“I’ve let you run things on your own. I’ve let you manage without my supervision. I’ve entrusted you with delicate matters.”

Your breathing began to escalate with every word he spoke. He was calm, his demeanor almost peaceful as he met your eyes. His lips were quirked into a smirk, but you could see the hard ridge of his jaw beneath the well-groomed facial hair. He was clenching the muscle. And you knew from experience what that meant. He was actively trying to contain himself. Your gaze quickly shifted to his fingers, seeing that he was circling them on the tablecloth. Miguel had tells like everyone else and they were beaming in neon back at you. He was mad, no…livid.

“Miguel, what’s this about?” You dared to ask. You didn’t want to play this game with him. You’d seen it enacted out on many before you, none of it ever ending well for the person opposite Miguel Galindo. But you weren’t just some lowlife. You were his friend, practically his family. How dare he treat you like a traitor? You’d given your life to his business…to him.

“I’m not stupid, sirenita.” He bit back, intentionally using your childhood nickname. He usually said it with affection, but such was not the case this time. He was mocking the title, mocking you.

“And you think I am?” You retorted angrily, done playing nice.

“You must be to have let a man like Bishop Losa fuck you in my factory.” Miguel seethed, leaning across the table so that you could see the veins of his neck protruding from the crisp white collar of his shirt.

You’d been expecting the words, but shock seized you nonetheless. Having Miguel confront you about your sexual exploits made you feel childish and small. He glared at you with such disappointment that you could practically taste the sour flavor in your mouth.

“You must be fucking stupid to forget that I have every inch of that place bugged and under video surveillance. Even the storage closets.”

As much as you tried to fight it, you looked down in shame. He was right. You were stupid. In that moment you’d let lust fuel your decisions. But that didn’t mean that he got to disrespect you and treat you like a common whore. You’d seen plenty of his men come through the ranks and fuck on the job. And while it was a problem, it was also mostly laughed off. Men will be men bullshit. Fuck that.

“Who I fuck is none of your business.”

Miguel laughed, though it was obvious he found no humor in the situation. He scratched at his chin, his eyes darting everywhere except to you.

“You think that’s what this is about?”

“I know it is.” You said as you jutted your chin, no longer allowing him to reprimand you like some teenager.

He startled you by rising from his chair, slowly walking to you with measured steps. He said nothing at first as he perched on the edge of the table beside you, looking down at you. Just how he wanted it. He reached for you chin, but you jerked away. He wasn’t deterred. He repeated the action and this time you let him.

“You let him defile you. Let him make a mockery of me while you laughed. Your loyalty is now in question.” He whispered. His touch was gentle, but his words cut like a knife.  And they stung.

You jerked out of his grip, eyes wide with disbelief. Miguel had never talked to you in such a way. He’d never treated you so viciously. He’d always respected you. Always looked out for you. He took care of you, making sure you always had what you needed. He never once made you feel as low as you did in that moment. He may not get his hands dirty anymore, but he didn’t need to. His words were his weapons. They always had been. You’d just never been the one to take the hit before.

“You can’t be serious?” You asked, shaking your head.

He said nothing. The flames of fury began to rage hotter within you as he stared down his nose at you, looking at you in a way that he’d never done before.

“Fuck you.” You gritted out, narrowing your eyes up at him.

His lips lifted into a smirk, his eyes shifting to the neck of your dress. You shivered, feeling his gaze on your cleavage. It didn’t last long, but it was enough to make you react in an unexpected way. Your body felt warm with something other than anger. Your nipples hardened against the dainty fabric of your dress, not a gust of cool air to be found.

“You don’t think what you did was damaging to me? To this operation?” Miguel questioned, the irritation back in his words.

“So because I get fucked, your entire business is at stake? Is that what you’re telling me Miguel? Because it sounds like horseshit.” You stood from your chair and hovered in his face, smelling the alcohol on both of your breaths. “You’re mad because I let Bishop Losa fuck me and not you. This has nothing to do with business. You’re jealous.”

The air was sucked out of the room the moment the words left your mouth. You could see the minute they penetrated Miguel’s armor, see the deep rage making its way to the surface. He was tense and stiff, his eyes unrelenting and unforgiving as they stared straight through you.

You’d crossed a line, yet again. But you weren’t going to back down. You’d never been one to do so and you weren’t going to start now.

“Admit that to yourself, Miguel. Admit that’s what this is about.”

Silence.

He only continued to stare with that same void expression, looking as if he wanted to strangle you. His hands flexed as if testing the idea. You shivered again, though it was far from fear you were experiencing.

“I didn’t think so.” You taunted, a victorious smile making its way to your painted lips. You turned to leave, done with the conversation and your employer. If he wanted to act like a juvenile, then you’d treat him like one.

You made it two steps before a heavy hand gripped your elbow. You yelped at the force of the hold and the momentum used to spin you around. You nearly lost your footing, your heels making it difficult to balance. A pair of arms braced you, but they weren’t about to offer you comfort. They tightened around your midsection as they hauled you against the wall. Your head slammed with a brutal thud and you winced at the pain that radiated from your skull.

“Look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting Miguel’s cold, murderous orbs. His fingertips dug into your upper arms while his chest heaved against yours with raggedy breaths. You matched his breathing, the fear most definitely taking hold now.

“You’ve forgotten who you work for…who owns you. I make the rules. I tell you when and where. I make you who you are. Me entiendes?” He didn’t wait for a response. “If I had known you’d rather whore yourself out I would’ve had you on your knees years ago.”

The slap echoed throughout the empty house. Your palm stung, the force of your strike still radiating through your arm. Miguel’s cheek was red, but he showed no other visible sign of being struck. His grip was still iron-clad on you, his breathing still rapid and manic.

“Go fuck yourself.” You snarled as you pushed against his chest, attempting to escape his clutches. He didn’t relent. You punched him, hitting him square in the jaw like he’d taught you years before. He released you instantly, cradling his face. You took the chance and ran for the door, but your dress and heels made it difficult to get any sort of real traction. Loud, foreboding footsteps boomed behind you as he caught up. He struck out and made contact with your arm, once again ensnaring you in his hold. You fought back this time, putting up a fight as he struggled to subdue you.

Another slap. Only this time it was you who was clutching their cheek.

“You fucking bastard.”

You charged at him, fists clenched and ready to damage his perfectly etched face. He reacted instantly, reaching for the back of your neck while he held your wrists together in the other. He was close. The both of you breathing in the other’s air. There was barely a sliver of space between your lips as you dared the other to make a move. You could feel the distinct outline of him against your stomach. He was hard. The notion should’ve sickened you. Little did he know, you’d been wet from the moment he’d called you a whore.

“If I wanted you, I could have you. Remember…I own you. Always have.” He declared cockily, eyes roaming your face, searching for any indication that you wanted him to put a stop to this.

You wouldn’t.

“I don’t belong to anyone. Least of all you.”

He licked his lips, a dot of blood already pooling to the surface where you’d hit him. The sight satisfied you.

“I feed you. I cloth you. I’ve made you everything that you are, sirenita. A whore playing dress up.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before he locked his lips against yours in a brutal kiss. You struggled against him, unwilling to surrender. You slipped against the marble floors as he backed you against one of the columns, pinning your body against his own. His lips attacked you, teeth gnashing and tongue probing for entrance. His beard scratched at your skin and left a sting in its wake. You realized he’d let go of your wrists. Your hands were tangled in his shirt. You’d meant to push him away, but you’d pulled him closer instead. Your nails dug into his pectorals until you were rewarded with a sharp hiss. He bit your lip in retaliation, the taste of iron landing on your tongue.

His hands ripped at your dress, the slit now torn wide to reveal the black lace you wore underneath. The neck of your dress fell open to expose your braless breasts to his assault. He wasted no time in taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth, sucking so hard that you whimpered and jerked away. You tugged at the roots of his thick hair, pulling him from your chest. He was still bent down, his neck craned so that he had to look up at you. You admired the change in position, feeling a rush of desire at the sight of him hungry and dazed for you.

You took the opportunity to switch positions, swinging him around so that he was now trapped between you and the wall. Your hands went to the buckle of his belt and began to release him from the confines of his designer slacks. Your mouth watered as his cock sprang forward. It was thick and heavy; hot and throbbing in time with your pulse. You made sure he kept his eyes on you as you licked your palm, coating it in saliva. He clenched his jaw as he watched you, releasing a strangled moan when you wrapped your hand around him. He began to succumb to you, his body overwrought with the need to release.

“Who’s the whore now?” You provoked, tightening your hand around him. He cursed and thrust his hips in response, but he was far from letting you win.

He grasped your chin, bringing your face so close to his that you could see the outline of his blown wide pupils against the near black of his irises.

“I’m going to fill that mouth so full of cum that you’ll be tasting me for a fucking week.”

You swallowed and clenched your thighs, his words making your walls contract in tantalizing tremors. You wanted that. You wanted all of that and more.

“You can deny it all you want, but I know…I’ve always known. That pussy is mine. It belongs to the Galindo cartel.” His hand wandered down and over your breasts, sweeping under the band of lace that concealed you from view. He found your clit and teased it, encouraging the overflow of your arousal that was sure to come. “And it gets wet at the thought of me fucking you until you can’t walk. Right?”

You bit your lip and gasped as he entered you, massaging the wet heat of your walls with expert precision.

“Answer me.” He demanded, finger sliding further into your depths.

“Fuck you.”

You were working hard to keep the effect of his touch off your face. You remained impassive and cold, but the further he explored, the closer he brought you to that proverbial edge.

“Oh, you will…”

In a flash, you were hauled into his arms and pushed into the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. He ripped at your panties with one hand, the ruined fabric falling away from your body to land in a heap on the floor. The lace had rubbed harshly at your skin as he tore it away, but the feeling was eclipsed by the harsh thrust of his cock into your unsuspecting body. The action caught you off guard, pulling a breathless curse from your lips. Your body tightened and twisted around him and his cock, trying to accommodate the intruder.

“I knew you’d be tight.” He confessed into your neck as he began to thrust. His hips met yours in a ruthless pattern, merciless and cruel. You could only hold on as he took from you, pushing so deep that he hit the natural barrier within you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You chanted as every line and ridge of his cock grazed beautifully so against your walls. Your spine twisted in both pain and pleasure, lights already dancing behind your lids. You tangled your fingers into his hair, scraping your nails against his scalp. He shuddered, the sensation traveling through his body and into your own.

He moved a second later, carrying you from the wall to the table you’d both been seated at only moments before. His motions were fast and unhinged, uncaring for you comfort as he slipped from your grasp. You both hissed, but didn’t have a chance to relish the emptiness as he turned you around, arching your ass into position.

“Bend over.”

You practically fell face first into the table as he pushed your head down. Your arms caught you just in time as you spread your legs and welcomed him between them. He shoved your dress up and landed a sharp slap to your right ass cheek, the sting reverberating through your lower half. You flinched and threw him a withering glare over your shoulder. His hands spread you, his cock nestled between your folds as he readied to enter you once again. Your thighs were slick, your walls now primed enough for him to slide uninhibited. He was taking without asking, without remorse, and you ate it up, daring him to give you more.

You moaned at the same time he grunted, his cock now back inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut against the onslaught of euphoria, feeling the web of climax begin to weave itself around you. You pulled at the tablecloth beneath you as Miguel thrust deep, his hips flush with yours as he penetrated your fucking soul. You could feel his eyes burning into you, no doubt  taking extreme pleasure in seeing you be such a slut for his cock.

“Are you going to cum?” He ground out, hands still holding your ass apart to watch.

“Yes…”

“Do it now.”

You whined as he began assailing your clit with his finger, rubbing so hard that you felt your eyes cross in your skull. The feeling was foreign, more powerful and unexplored. You shied away from it, unwilling to let go.

“Don’t fight it.” Miguel ordered, feeling your body flinch away. He only went faster and harder, intent on making you come undone.

You had no choice. You gave yourself over to it, letting him pull your orgasm from the depths and send it to the surface. You readied for the inevitable and cried out when your body began to convulse. You were only mildly aware of the gush of liquid that left your body as you were flung into space and launched into a chamber of weightlessness. Miguel’s praises and groans tickled your skin as he bathed himself in your release. He pulled his cock from your depths and let you soak him as he watched in rapt fascination.

“Fuck, just like that…” He said in awe, his cock once again sliding along your folds as your pussy  continued to contract against him.

Your face was pressed into the table, your ass still in the air and presented like some kind of prize. You panted with exertion as your limbs became lethargic and sated with the buzz of desire. It felt like an hour had passed, but in reality it’d only been seconds.

You were flipped onto your back, the whiplash making you dizzy. Plates and glasses toppled to the pristine floor as Miguel pried your legs open and resumed fucking you with wild abandon. Your eyes rolled and your toes curled as he fucked you through your post-coitus high. You were moving with every brute thrust, your body shifting up the table. You caressed your breasts as he looked on, growling in approval. His hair was tousled, his lip bleeding with his shirt untucked and pants undone. He’d never looked sexier.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He breathed as he doubled his efforts. He ravaged your body with a new ferocious energy, pulling away when the feeling became too much. He wrapped his hand around himself and pulled at your ankle with the other. “On your knees.”

You nearly slid off the table, your heels barely touching the ground before he was pushing you to kneel. You did as he wanted, meeting his devious stare with a bat of your lashes.

“Open your mouth.”

You complied, sticking out your tongue as he jerked himself off. The head of his cock released streams of thick, white cum seamlessly onto your awaiting tongue. He aimed it perfectly, ensuring it all ended up in your mouth and nowhere else. You could feel it already sliding down your throat as you waited for him to finish.

“Swallow it.”

He held your chin, keeping your mouth closed and running his thumb over your lips. You obeyed and swallowed down every drop, savoring the decadence. He looked down at you with a worshipful eye, an expression that was usually reserved for your professional accomplishments. You relished it, just as you did all the times before.

Miguel tucked himself back into his pants and then reached a hand out to you. You accepted his help and stood, albeit on shaky legs. You clutched the front of your dress together, the thing nearly shredded on your frame. You waited for him to say something, but he only turned and walked to the kitchen counter where his phone sat. He picked it up and walked back to you, his attention focused on the digital screen at his fingertips.

“I know everything that happens within my operation. Sometimes people have to be reminded.” He was back to being calm, not an ounce of irritation left on his handsome features. “I’ve done that with you. And now I’ll do that with Bishop.”

Your blood ran cold when he showed you the screen of his phone. Footage of what just transpired between you two played out, a security timestamp at the bottom of the screen making you aware that this was the real deal. Every moment, every obscene action and insult was captured for anyone to see. Humiliation rushed through you.

“I’m the only one that has access to this. But by tomorrow morning Bishop Losa will receive a clip of this footage. A message that he’s touched what’s mine and to never do so again.”

He shoved his phone into his pocket and stepped towards you. You remained unmoving, no energy left to fight with Goliath. He caressed your cheek gently, the patronizing tone now back in his voice.

“This is part of your punishment. Take it like I know you can. Okay?” He prompted. His gentleness was soothing, but a farce. He’d made his point and now you had to fall in line. You were just a solider, taking orders from the commander. And he was reminding you of that.

“Sirenita,” He called, the affection that’d been missing the last time he’d used the name now unmistakable.

You met his eyes. They were back to the mahogany color you’d grown to love. The darkness no longer shrouding him. He cradled your cheek, noting the way you winced when he touched the still tender flesh.

“Say okay.”

“Okay.” You finally replied, defeat coating the word.

“I’ll get this cleaned up tomorrow.” He gestured to the mess behind you, the dining table looking as if a bull raged through. “It’s late. Go upstairs and shower. I’ll be up in a bit.”

You went to refuse, but he stopped you with a kiss. You responded back eagerly, tangling your tongue with his and letting him taste himself. By the time he pulled away, you were both breathing heavily, hearts beating wildly.

“Things are going to be different. You’ll be with me for a while. No more solo missions.”

You tried not to let the disappointment show at his words. You were being demoted. From right hand to whore. You now belonged to Miguel in the one way you said you never would. You’d  refused him for so long because you knew the power he held over you…knew the type of life he could give you. It’d be everything you’d wanted and more. Addicting. Luxurious. Lawless. You’d get so lost in him that you’d lose yourself. You knew it. But you’d made a mistake and you had to repent. And you’d do so willingly.

You’d go from whore to housewife in an instant. You’d be his Queen before long…back to running things. Only this time you’d do so with your legs wide and your mouth open. If Miguel wanted a cartel whore, then he’d get one.

[barclaysangel]

“Smells Like Teen Spirit”; Chapter 10: Oh Yeah, I Guess It Makes Me Smile

Here is the new chapter for my Junior Wheeler fic!

Oh boy, was this one quite a ride! I love how it turned out and it just has me so excited for the next chapter!

Please comment what you think so far of the story, either on here or on AO3, because getting comments really help fuel my motivation to keep writing.

Thank you for reading and enjoy! :)

Junior was surprised about how long the topic of him possessing a human took.

Well, maybe not too surprised. A lot of things occupied their time, it surely wasn’t something the others thought about. Hell, Junior himself never even thought about it before either.

Until it was his best friend, Devon of all people, who had a sudden epiphany right before leaving Lexy’s house after watching The Little Mermaid.

“So, Tiffany for Chucky’s soul out of Nica, right?” Devon asked suddenly while Junior was putting his red shoes back on, having been wearing socks all day to be more comfortable.

“Uh huh, correct.” The doll replied, focusing more on tying his shoelaces than the actual conversation because fuck, his stupid tiny plastic fingers were still difficult to maneuver.

“Which meant that Chucky was able to possess a human being rather than just a doll? And Tiffany has spent well over a decade possessing the actress Jennifer Tilly?” Devon sounded like he was about to come up with some theory or a hypothesis.

“Yeah, obviously—where are you going with this?” Junior asked, giving up on tying his shoelaces and instead allowed Lexy to do them since she had asked him a few minutes ago when he started struggling.

“So that means…you technically could possess an actual person and not just a doll.” Devon finally said.

No one said anything, three pairs of eyes on the doll as he processed the question in his mind. “Well…I…I guess so. I could, technically, possess an actual person just like Chucky did to Nica and Tiffany did to Jennifer.”

Jake stared at him with an almost bewildered expression. “And you didn’t try that before?!”

“To be honest, I kind of didn’t even think about it to begin with!”

“How is that something you never thought about?!” Lexy asked right after she finished tying his shoes, sounding as bewildered as Jake looked.

Except Jake looked more constipated whenever he was bewildered or even angry.

“I was-actually, I still am-going through a lot so the thought of possessing someone who was an actual human and not a doll never occurred to me.” Junior defended himself.

He truly never thought about it. Even though now that he thought about it, he remembered Tiffany telling him on his death bed that he could transfer his soul into another human whenever he wanted.

How did that never cross his mind the past three weeks?

“Don’t you think that’s something you should try?” Jake suggested with both of his eyebrows raised.

“Maybe.” Junior shrugged his shoulders up and down.

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?” Lexy questioned him.

“Look, this is a lot to deal with. A lot of information to process. I’ll think about it.”

“Junior, you’ve been talking about how much you hate being a doll!” Jake pointed out. “Why is this something you’re so hesitant about?”

Truthfully, he didn’t quite know. It was just an inkling of a feeling that was holding him back.

The doll just shrugged again. “I do hate being like this. But I don’t want to possess some random person. I want to at least feel like myself and look close to how I used to.”

“Can’t you just find multiple people and switch places until you find the right one that feels like you?” Lexy suggested while moving her hands around.

Junior raised an eyebrow high. “Do I look like a flea to you? Jumping from one body to the other? That even sounds exhausting!” He sighed loudly and shook his head. “Look, can we talk about this later? I’m tired and hungry and trust me, you don’t want to deal with me being tired and hungry.”

“Yeah, Junior’s right. Let’s just go home and talk later.” Devon was quick to say and the doll had never been more grateful for him.

Thank god Devon always knew when to step in before Junior lost his mind.

But that wasn’t the end of that conversation. It was something that came up all the time. Especially by Jake and Lexy, both of them questioning why Junior hadn’t possessed a person or why he won’t do it yet.

He truly didn’t know why he just…didn’t want to do it. It wasn’t because he liked being a doll, fuck no, he hated it more than words could describe.

It just didn’t feel right for some reason.

“You could literally possess anyone you want, I don’t get why you’re so hesitant about it.” Jake said one day while all four of them were laying on their backs and staring up at the ceiling, too bored yet too content to do anything else.

“Well, for starters, it might not work all the way.” Junior replied.

“What do you mean?” Devon asked, sitting up slightly and leaning on his elbows to look at Junior, who was lying in between Jake and Lexy.

“While I’m pretty sure Jennifer has never taken back control of her body, Nica would get control back pretty easily. Something would trigger Chucky and Nica would come out. That’s why it she was spending more time in her own body and only having rare occurrences with Chucky coming out rather than the other way around.” Junior explained to them. “So who’s to say that won’t happen if I possess someone too?”

“I mean, how do you know if you never even try?” Lexy threw in.

Junior turned his head to face her. “Do you really want to risk me suddenly losing control and the other person gets their body back? Crying and begging to be let go because they’re trapped?” He bit his bottom lip, remembering how Nica was the first time he met her. The more he thought about it, the more heartbreaking it was to see her like that.

“Maybe you could talk to Tiffany,” Jake suggested this time, “figure out how she was able to fully take over Jennifer’s body so you could do the same.”

“If you’re so eager to have me possessing someone, I could possess you for practice.” The doll said jokingly but made sure to sound serious to see Jake’s reaction. He even held a hand up and started waving it around slowly like he was about to cast the spell.

He was rewarded by his cousin’s eyes nearly popping out of his eye sockets and quickly shaking his head, repeating the word “no” at least twenty times in five seconds.

“No, Junior, you’re not going to possess my boyfriend.” Devon replied with a joking smile, obviously entertained by Jake’s reaction.

“Fine, I guess I won’t,” Junior sighed mockingly as if he was actually considering doing that, “and another thing is that I’m a very picky person in general. So I’m definitely going to be picky over who I’ll possess.” He added in, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lexy looked at him in almost amusement. “C’mon, Juni. You can’t possibly be that picky.”

Oh yes. He could definitely be that picky.

And it was something they all learned the hard way.

“How about him?”

“No.”

“Okay…him?”

“No.”

“Him? He’s tall, that would be a nice change for you.”

“How hilarious. No.”

“Fine then…maybe her?”

“…nah.”

“Jesus Christ, Junior, why are you like this?”

And that’s how they were spending the first day of the weekend, in a park, “body hunting”.

Okay, that sounded weird and certainly disturbing, Junior would admit that. But at this point, what do you call it when you stare at random teenagers that happened to be at the park and discuss which one your creepy doll should possess?

“What? I told you I was picky!” Junior responded, slouching back against Lexy since he was sitting on her lap.

“I know, but beggars can’t be choosers.” Lexy stated to the doll, looking down at him.

“I’m not begging,” he reminded her, “so I can choose. And none of them will do.”

“What are you even looking for then in a new body?” Jake asked, pinching the bridge of his nose between his first finger and thumb in obvious frustration over his cousin’s pickiness.

Junior thought about the question for a moment. “Someone who kind of looks close to me. Brown hair, brown eyes. Around my age, because I don’t want to go to kindergarten again or learn how to pay off my mortgage.” He paused. “And they have to be super attractive, obviously.” He threw in as a joke with a playful smile.

“Do you know how hard that’s gonna be? No one could compare to you.” Lexy said and it got Junior’s tiny little doll heart beating faster.

The doll cleared his throat. “Y-yeah, I guess so. But still. I’m not going to possess some boring and average white guy just so I could have a human body quicker.”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Devon agreed with him, somehow being the only voice of reason ever since the talks about Junior possessing a person came to light because of him, “you want to feel comfortable in your own body. You deserve that.”

“Thanks, Dev.” Junior said with a small smile before stretching his short legs out a little. “Now, can we talk about something else? I’m getting a headache.”

“You always get a headache whenever we talk about you getting a new body,” Jake said, “what’s wrong with that? Are you finally starting to like your doll body?” He asked with a teasing grin, reaching out and started poking the doll’s sides.

He was immediately giggling and squirming, Junior trying to push away his cousin’s sneaky hands. “S-stop, stop it!” He said while giggling but it was obvious that Jake wasn’t taking him seriously since he wouldn’t stop.

Time to take it up a level.

In a swift motion, the back of Junior’s hand met Jake’s cheek. Not hard, definitely not. But just enough for a little sting and it got his cousin to stop, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Did you just backhand me? Are you kidding me?” He spoke in total disbelief.

“I told you to stop.” Junior replied with an innocent smile, Lexy and Devon bursting out laughing from the cousins, once again, being chaotic.

“He backhanded me…he actually backhanded me…I can’t believe he…hey, stop laughing, that’s not funny!” Jake almost exclaimed, mostly toward his boyfriend who just laughed even harder.

“I-I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect him to slap you, it caught me off guard.” Devon managed to say through his laughter, Jake shaking his head as if he had been betrayed.

As for Junior?

He was practically cackling in the drama he was creating.

Maybe he really was evil.

“You’re such an asshole, Junior!” Jake glared at him.

“Yeah, but I’m cute and little so I can get away with it.” The doll said simply, smiling because he knew Lexy would agree with him.

Sure enough, she did. “Definitely, he has permission to do whatever he wants because he’s cute and little. I mean, look at this face!” Lexy gestured to his face with both of her hands, Junior immediately grinning as brightly as he could.

Jake narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re the worst. Literally the worst.” He just told him.

“Yeah, I know.” Junior just shrugged, still smiling before gasping. “Oh, look, no one’s on the swings, let’s go to the swings!” He said quickly, almost eagerly.

This park was always Junior’s favorite to go to. It was one where he and Devon used to play on when they were kids, but the swings were always their favorites. It was usually occupied, so as soon as it was empty, they were running toward them.

There was a lot of good memories there, for sure.

“Sure, let’s go.” Devon said and got up from the bench, picking up Junior from Lexy’s lap and holding him to his hip.

Jake scowled at the doll, huffing. “I can’t believe you’ll let Devon and Lexy, even Caroline, hold you and not me.”

“That’s because I like them better than you.” Junior replied quickly with a smirk.

“That’s homophobic.” Jake retorted.

Junior raised a painted eyebrow as high as he could. “If I was homophobic, I wouldn’t let Devon touch me. Try again, asshole.”

“I’m going to put a muzzle on both of you if you don’t stop bickering.” Lexy interrupted their arguing and rolled her eyes, the four-well, technically three since Junior was being carried-of them walking to the swings.

The doll was still giggling under his breath, obviously enjoying pushing Jake’s buttons far too much, and Devon placed him down on one of the swings while Lexy sat down on the other.

“Why does Junior get to have his own swing?” Jake complained out loud.

“Why do you bitch so much?” Junior asked, smirking up at him.

His cousin stared down at him. “Need someone to push you on the swing, Little Jun-Jun?” He taunted.

“Come one step closer to me, and I will cut out the cartilage from your kneecaps and force you to eat them.” The doll said with a deadpanned expression.

Lexy looked both grossed out and disturbed by the comment while Jake just looked straight up disturbed. “Oh god.”

“I gotta admit, at least he’s getting creative with his threats on Jake’s kneecaps.” Devon credited him, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good job for Junior’s creativity. Don’t mind me, keep getting my kneecaps threatened every other day.” Jake muttered sarcastically under his breath, making Junior snicker.

“You’ll be fine. It builds character.” He said and waved one hand nonchalantly, turning his head up to look at the sky.

The weather had been getting colder and snow was just beginning to fall. Junior never liked the cold, if he was being honest. He got cold quite easily, always wanting to just curl up in bed and never leave. He was cold now, but not quite. He didn’t have goosebumps all over his plastic arms, but he could still feel the cold. He just never showed externally when he was cold.

But the doll was forever grateful that the others would make sure he was dressed for the weather anyway, with Lexy even buying him some winter coats in his size.

Along with winter rolling in, it also reminded Junior of an upcoming holiday.

Christmas.

Now, he never loved it, per se. But his mom did. She loved it. And he loved spending time with her during Christmas. Everyday leading up to it, they would watch Christmas movies they had seen dozens of times and make a batch of gingerbread cookies, promising to not tell his dad and get rid of all the evidence before he would get home from work.

It was nice. That was how they celebrated it together when it was just the two of them.

It was their special tradition.

But now there wasn’t anything.

This would be his first Christmas without her and it made Junior want to rage.

Or cry.

Or scream.

Or break something.

Then again, he always wanted to do all four of them at once but held it in.

At least his cousin and best friends haven’t mentioned Christmas yet around him. He didn’t want to deal with that. He didn’t want to be hit with the fact that he would never sit on the couch with his mother watching Christmas movies again.

Maybe this year, Junior could use his Christmas wish to wish for his mom back.

“Juni? Are you okay?” Lexy suddenly asked, making the doll snap out of his thoughts.

He hadn’t realized that he had zoned out on them, giving him a big fake smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I got distracted.”

Devon squinted a little at him. “Were you about to cry?”

Junior immediately became aware of his teary eyes and quickly shook his head. “No, no. It’s cold as fuck here, the icy air is making my eyes water a bit, that’s all.”

“You sure?” Jake questioned next time and the amount of concern the doll was getting from them made his stomach churn.

“Guys, really. I’m fine.” He reassured them, lying through his teeth.

They were having a good day, he wouldn’t dare ruin this just because of his overwhelming thoughts that threatened to suffocate him.

“Wanna go back to my place then? It really is cold out here.” Lexy asked with a little smile.

“Yeah, okay. I’d rather not find out if it’s possible for a doll to turn into a popsicle.” Junior joked and the others left, successfully making them forget about what was going on. With that, Lexy was the one to carry him this time and started walking away from the park alongside his friend and cousin.

They were quiet for a minute before Lexy spoke up again. “Oh, maybe we could make hot chocolate so we can warm up. With the little marshmallows in them.”

“Hell yeah. I haven’t had hot chocolate since I was, like, nine.” Junior admitted.

“Really? It’s been that long?” Jake asked in disbelief. The doll’s only response was to raise an eyebrow and they all seemed to understand.

It wasn’t a secret how his father monitored and controlled how much Junior ate. There were times where he felt daring and would sneak in some sweets or something with a lot of carbs, but he hardly ever did. Junior was always afraid that eating too much would affect how he performed at cross-country.

It was still hard to rewire his father’s voice from his head whenever he ate. But eating with the others without any judgement helped ease the voice until it was mostly gone.

They always managed to help him without even realizing it.

No one said anything again, obviously uncomfortable at the hint of how controlling Junior’s father was, so the doll had to break the silence. “Your mom won’t be home yet, right?” He asked Lexy.

“No, she won’t be be back for a few hours.” Lexy responded. “My mom mentioned that there’s some movie being filmed here in Hackensack or something. She’s putting a lot of publicity on that to try and distract from what happened last month.”

“Great, that’s exactly what we need.” Junior said with sarcasm thick in his voice, Jake and Devon nodding in agreement.

“I know. But at least she took Caroline with her because I need a break from babysitting.” Lexy told them and they continued walking, making some small talk before they finally got to her house.

Once inside, the blonde was quick to start making four cups of hot chocolate. Junior was sitting on top of the kitchen counter, watching her since he was too small to help out. Out of nowhere, Jake touched his cheek with the back of his hand and the doll quickly whipped his head away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He demanded, both painted eyebrows raised up and nearly to his hairline.

“I was just curious if you would actually feel physically cold or warm or nothing at all.” Jake replied casually, as if that was a normal thing to say or even try to do.

Junior blinked up at him for a moment. “Jake, what I’m about to say is not in the mean way I would’ve said to you a month ago. I’m saying this as nicely as possible, from one caring cousin to the other.” He paused before stating in a flat tone. “You’re fucking weird, man.”

Jake snorted quietly. “Love you too, dude.” He said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “But it’s a genuinely good question. You say that you feel cold but you don’t really feel cold.”

“Junior does feel warm,” Lexy said out of nowhere while pouring the the tiny marshmallows into their mugs, “not as warm as a normal human body, but I do feel some warmth radiating from him whenever I hold him.”

The doll waved one hand in her direction. “And there you have it, folks. I am not entirely cold-blooded.”

“Oh please, Junior, you’re not cold-blooded…” Devon spoke with a small pause, “…you sobbed for fifteen minutes straight during the ending of the Disney movie Coco.”

“Who the hell didn’t sob during Coco?!” Junior exclaimed while throwing his arms above his head.

“Yeah, he’s got a point.” Jake agreed with him, probably the first time that’s ever happened.

Someone call the Guinness World Record and mark the day the Wheeler cousins actually agreed on something.

The four of them embraced in the silence once they started drinking their hot chocolates, Junior holding his in both of his small hands and sipping it with a peaceful look on his face.

But peace never lasted, especially with Jake in the room, whom started snickering quietly while staring at the doll.

“What?” He demanded, already scowling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…your hands are so tiny!” Jake told him, giggling again.

Junior glowered at his cousin. “Jake, I am holding scalding hot liquid. Do not test me right now.”

“You two give me a headache, chill before I put you both in a time out.” Lexy rolled her eyes at them.

The doll paused and stared at her for a moment. “How exactly would you put us in a time out though? You know what, never mind.” He threw in his last sentence quickly when the only response he got was her staring daggers at him.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” Devon said quickly, probably to try and prevent whatever bickering that could ensue with the cousins.

Junior shrugged, chewing one of the marshmallows in his mouth. “Sure, why not.”

“Oh, let’s watch a Christmas movie, to get into the holiday spirit!” Lexy perked up with a big smile.

“No!” Junior hadn’t realized how loudly he said that one word until it came out. They all stared at him, confusion and concern in their eyes, and the doll cleared his throat. “Christmas movies are boring. Let’s watch something else.”

Lexy and Jake squinted at him, not entirely believing that that was the reason he didn’t want to watch anything related to Christmas, but Devon spoke. “Okay, we could watch something else then. There’s plenty of other movies to watch.”

Once again, Devon was the hero of the day. Devon knew that Junior did enjoy Christmas films, especially the first two Home Alone movies, but didn’t say anything. Maybe he knew how hard this holiday was going to be for the doll but didn’t say anything in front of the others. He just knew Junior like the back of his hand.

And that is why Devon is his best friend in the entire world.

“Alright, I’ll go see what’s on tv then.” Lexy said, taking finishing up the last of her hot chocolate before putting the empty mug in the sink and walking into the living room.

Junior stayed quiet, sipping his drink and enjoying how hot it was until Jake decided to open his mouth. “So when am I allowed to finally have Junior Holding Privileges?”

“On the thirty-second of Neveruary.” The doll replied flatly.

“Dude, that’s so not fair!” Jake complained loudly, completely forgetting about his hot chocolate now that rested on the kitchen counter next to Junior.

“Life isn’t fair.” He stated, sipping more from his mug.

“Please? Just this once? Just let me hold you once, please? Please?” His cousin was practically begging now, even holding his arms out like he wanted a hug.

“C’mon, Jun, just once!” Devon, the absolute traitor, even chimed in as he looked at both of the cousins in amusement.

Remember how Junior said that Devon was the best? He took it back now.

Junior didn’t say anything for a good minute, just continuing to drink from his hot chocolate. It was a sweet taste, scalding hot and burning his throat, but he liked it when his drinks were that hot. He could hear Jake still begging but didn’t look at him, not until the coffee mug was finally empty and free of marshmallows, and smacked his lips together.

The doll sighed, in exasperation from his cousin and in delight from how delicious the hot chocolate was, before looking up at him. “Don’t make me regret this.” Was all he said before lifting his arms up.

“Yes! Finally!” Jake cheered in pure excitement and fist pumped the air. Before Junior could even change his mind, his cousin moved forward and carefully grabbed the doll, holding him to his hip like the others have been doing.

God, this was even weirder than with Lexy and Devon holding him. Maybe it was because he was being held by his cousin that was only a few weeks younger than him.

He, once again, felt like a toddler.

“Fuck, this is freaky.” Junior admitted, his body stiff and he didn’t dare move.

“You’re so small!” Jake grinned, bouncing Junior around a little.

“I will revoke your Junior Holding Privileges so fast, Jake, don’t even.” He scowled but relaxed a little, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jake was still smiling, completely unfazed. “Lexy!” He called out to her. “Junior is finally letting me hold him!”

“Congrats!” Lexy yelled back, probably still trying to find something good to watch because she didn’t come back to see the wonderful sight of Jake holding his doll cousin.

“We need a picture!” Devon exclaimed, fishing in the pockets of his coat for his phone.

“No, I don’t need more blackmail, absolutely not!” Junior quickly said, shaking his head.

“Dude, we barely have any pictures of you to begin with! You never let us take pictures of you!” Jake whined, even throwing his head back like an upset child.

“And it will continue being that way, I don’t care!” Junior snapped back, the cousins arguing for a minute before something made him stop.

A loud scream from Lexy all the way in the living room.

Everyone froze and Devon was the first to snap out of it, quickly rushing to where Lexy was. “Lexy, wha…?” Devon’s voice trailed before he yelled out to the cousins. “Guys! Get over here!”

Jake nearly ran to the living room, bouncing Junior in the process and he had to hold onto his cousin’s shirt to stabilize himself. The doll released him when Jake stopped moving, standing in front of the tv. Whatever he saw made his eyes widen and drop Junior.

He yelped when he hit the floor, glaring up at him. “Ow! You motherfucker! That’s it, you just lost your privilege!” Junior shouted but Jake wasn’t even looking at him. He just kept staring at the tv, along with Devon and Lexy.

The doll stood up and brushed himself off, looking over at the tv to see what the fuck was going on…

…and saw himself.

On the paused screen.

Of a movie Junior certainly was never in…

…so why were they looking at a person that looked almost exactly like him on tv but it wasn’t actually him?

He didn’t even know what to say, having almost completely lost his voice. All Junior could utter were two words.

“Holy shit.”

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland - Our fairytale

Is this another disney-Tom fic? Yes it it. I’m masking my inactivity with another piece of fluff in Disney World. If you like this one, make sure to check  Lost kid and  True love kiss.  

Plot: that story where two characters of a movie fall in love, or in this case two actors portraying those characters fall in love, even if they don’t belong to the same fairy tale

or

Tom is prince Eric and you’re Belle, and he’s just a jealous bean.

“Mommy, mommy! It’s prince Eric!”

A little red haired girl, that was probably wearing a wig not that well put, pulled her mother’s hand behind her and gripped harder the drawings’ book she has been carrying around all day. Her objective had been clear since she had woken up that morning; to meet all the characters that appeared in her drawings and make them sign the pictures. She had too a purple princess dress with small seashells and a small purse that was all decoration.

Tom kneeled down just as the girl reached him. Her eyes looked as if they could burst out of their pockets, jumping up and down in the spot of excitement. The mother, a middle age woman that looked done with the whole park, gave Tom a side glance to check he was no depredator and took her phone with her free hand.

“Hi!” she screeched, loud even above all the noise of the park that day. “I’m Marleen!”

“Oh, what a beautiful name!” Tom said in a high-pitched voice. “And what a beautiful girl!”

“Thanks” she giggled and twisted her body around the mother’s hand. “This is not my real hair, my mommy bought it for me”

“Well, it’s really pretty” Tom smiled warmly. “Are you enjoying your day in the park?”

The question led to a monologue from the little girl about all the characters she had met so far, and a thoughtful look through her drawings. Her smile was easily contagious, and Tom didn’t mind staying 20 long minutes under the sun, crutched in front of that cute girl. He commented every drawing and even made up some stories about the characters in them. The mother kept herself to the phone, not listening to the conversation, and Tom felt himself traveling to a different world.

Every time a kid asked for him, he left the rest of his life aside and became Eric, the prince of the little mermaid that had a charming smile and lived with Ariel in a big palace. Tom had been working as that character for almost five months, and he never got tired. There were too many good things that came with it; the smiles, the excitement and the fantasy he got to live meanwhile.

He was in the middle of a story about Ursula when Marleen seemed to see something behind him, and before he got time to turn around, she had already recovered and emitted another loud screech.

“Belle!!”

Tom was suddenly pushed aside when Marleen rushed past him and attached herself to another person’s legs. He didn’t have to look up to know it was you who had stolen the attention of the girl, but he wasn’t at all afraid. Once more, the mother looked poorly interested in the situation, and went back to her previous business after checked who was her daughter talking to.

Again, Marleen presented herself and explained who she was dressed as. You looked as interested as Tom in the story, though Tom ignored it in favour of staring at you. You were wearing a beautiful pale yellow dress that fell down your legs, barely touching the ground. There was a flashy necklace on your chest and a pearly ring on your finger. You weren’t the princess that used more make-up, yet Tom thought the soft red lipstick and the barely there Rimmel was perfect.

“Can you sign my drawing too?” Marleen asked, already opening her book. She shoved it in front of you and turned to look at Tom. “My friends are going to be so envious! I’m gonna tell them I met Belle and prince Eric!”

“If you are quick, you can meet Cinderella in the main square” you said as you scribbled on the page. “I heard she has brought some special friends with her”

“Mommy did you hear that?!?”

Tom barely noticed her arms circling around his legs before she took off running again, her mother screaming behind her. He chuckled as the pair disappeared in the sea of the people. It was only mid-day, and if they were thinking about staying until close-up time, he doubted the mother would be able to keep up.

A soft hand made its way to his, sneaking as if it was a secret. And in part, it was; because prince Eric was supposed to be with Ariel, and you had strict orders about sticking to the characters until the end of the day. You rubbed your face against his blue jacket, half wishing you would be alone at the moment.

Finally, Tom intertwined your hands together and gave yours a small squeeze. Your break was close, and if you were lucky you could still find some spot in the shadow to hide from the torturous sun.

“I was watching you way before she noticed me, you know” you mumbled, pressing yourself even closer to him. “You’re so good with them, and you look so cute”

“I’m not cute, I’m carrying a sword and I’m a prince” Tom chuckled, not moving from his spot. “You’re amazing, too. And beautiful – god, I swear they might want to remake the film and change the ending, because I can’t take my eyes off you with that dress”

“Aren’t you a gentleman, my prince. Do you say that to every princess here?”

“Only you. And Cinderella, of course”

You smacked his arm playfully, and in return, you were met with his lips on you. If someone saw you, you would probably have a lot of problems with your boss. He was very, very strict on the no-dating policy, or at least not kissing in the park.

Instead of pushed him away, you put your other hand across his chest and started playing with the black buttons of the vest he was wearing. Both of you were sweaty and spending time of your break, that was already short. Yet Tom didn’t push you away either, just angled his head so that the kiss wasn’t that awkward. He resisted the urge to stretch himself on the tip toes because you were taller than him, wearing just a small heel.

You pulled back when oxygen became short, and Tom just leaned again to peck your lips, swallowing your giggled.

“What’s got you so clingy?” you managed to say between quick kisses. “Someone’s gonna see us”

“And they won’t care, they’ve have seen us before” Tom pressed his lips against you once more.

“No, really” you pushed him a little bit. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, everything good. Just missed you, darling”

“Since this morning?” you raised an eyebrow when you got the idea why Tom was that clingy. “Or since you learned that I have a show today?”

Tom scoffed for an answer and you knew you were right. You both had talked about it – that you had to kiss other people for the job, and even act romantic about them. While in a normal day you didn’t have to do much with your partner, every week a Disney movie would get a show in the main castle of the park, and that week was Beauty and the Beast. Dancing, singing, wearing costumes – and following the original story, that said that Belle and Beast kissed at the end of the show.

He wasn’t really angry, he never was. And neither was you when he had to swoop Ariel off her feet and kiss her while fireworks ran behind them. But you had your days where it was hard, and Tom had a hard time saying he was jealous of a man who wore the Beast costume.

“You can always fight him with that sword of yours” you smiled at the blush on his cheeks. “But it might turn out bad, since it’s made of plastic”

“Shut up” Tom croaked out, confidence gone. “I have every right to be jealous, you’re kissing him almost every day! And – he get to slow dance with you, and kiss you, and –“

“And you’re the one who goes back home with me when the show is over” you interrupted him before he got carried away. “We can slow dance in the living room, and we kiss all the time even if we can get in trouble for it. You don’t have to be jealous”

Tom didn’t say anything else, just looked away. He knew you were right, that he didn’t have any right to be jealous and that he was pushing it by kissing you in the park. But at the same time, his brain was having a hard time walking past the need of hugging you close and flipping it off in the distance to the guy who played the Beast.

“If you want to, after the show we can go out for dinner. Tomorrow is our free day” you wrapped yourself around Tom, noses touching again.

“As long as I get to pick you up from the dressing room”

“As long as you don’t glare too much at Michael and don’t flip him off again” you half joked, thinking about how in your last show Tom had been giving your partner the puppy, angry eyes the whole time.

“Then we’re getting pizza and we’re watching a movie” Tom finished, kissing you once more, quick, time. “And I’m choosing everything”

“You’re lucky I love you”

If Marleen, the little girl that had been talking to Tom, saw Belle and prince Eric kissing and holding hands, she didn’t say anything. She just watched with an excited smile how them both leaned for a kiss once more, truly believing that she was a princess and would find his own prince.

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