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mitsies · 1 year

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it’s late february when gojo satoru decides he likes you.

the year is 2006, and the hour is late. a midnight snowfall takes place outside the window of gojo’s dorm room.

he sits at his desk, feet kicked up and pen twirling in his hand as he stares at the open laptop in front of him. the screen goes dim from being untouched for too long and gojo key smashes onto the blank document to wake it back up.

he’s currently mulling over an unfinished (and unstarted) mission report that was due appropriately 3 hours ago. but he just couldn’t find the words in himself to put onto paper.

(or, more accurately and less poetically- he just really didn’t want to.)

and plus, he was bored, and lonely. no one was awake at this time so he had no company, and gojo had found that he always worked better when not alone.

he sighed to himself before hunching back over the keyboard, ready to type in some nonsensical bullshit, when he sees something out his window- a person, clad in their pajamas, trudging through the snow. they were wearing fuzzy socks and gojo cringed because he just knew that they were soaked.

it was you, marching outside in horrid weather, with an expression that lay somewhere between delirious and determined.

he watched for a few more beats as you brushed snow off the courtyard benches with your bare, ungloved hands, seemingly in search of something. he wonders what could be so important that you’d brave the cold at this hour. gojo doesn't think he'd do that for anyone or anything in a million years.

his opinion of you, at the time, is not so positive. you were the second arrival to tokyo jujutsu high after him, and he didn't think he liked you very much. you seemed a little too apathetic, a little too spacey, contrasting his impassioned, driven personality.

you didn't seem very warm, he supposed, and that wasn't something he liked. (gojo never once considered that maybe, he just hadn't taken the time to get to know you.)

he's not sure why he follows you out into the snow, but before gojo knows it, he's pulled on his overpriced sneakers and a black scarf, and is standing beneath the overhang to the courtyard where you continued to search.

"i didn't think you were one to enjoy the snow so much," he calls out. you turn to face him, eyes wide, not having expected company. you look pretty, eyelashes webbed with snowflakes and a crown of ice adorning your hair. gojo's breath catches in his throat.

"i don't," you reply. your voice is thick with exhaustion, and gojo now sees how your arms are folded around your s shivering frame, and how your teeth chatter in the night.

"then what are you doing here?"

you look almost sheepish. "i forgot my book outside this morning."

gojo blinks. he wasn't expecting that. "you came outside in, like, negative 100-degree weather.. for a book?"

"listen," you start, indignant, "it was a really good book. it was actually so good that i dreamed about it, and i woke up because i didn't know what happened next. that's how i realized it was missing."

"so you're looking for your book at midnight in the snow because you had a dream about it?"

"basically."

gojo nods. "i'll help you look."

now it's your turn to be surprised. you knew he wasn't your biggest fan- but now, here he was, looking for something that had no meaning to him, solely for your peace of mind.

"oh. thanks, but... why?"

gojo shrugs. "i was working on a report and this seems more interesting. plus, you looked so sad and miserable and on the verge of death so you probably need the help."

you snort. that made more sense, you thought. he just didn't want to work, and this was an excuse to procrastinate further. you didn't think that gojo satoru had a selfless bone in his body.

but then he walked over to you, out in the snow, and removed his scarf. he wrapped it around your neck, deft fingers not yet numbed by the freezing temperatures.

"but first," he says, "you should put on some shoes. and grab a jacket. you might like, actually freeze. you look awful."

(he was lying. you looked heaven-sent in the stark whiteness of the background, but also kind of sickly due to the cold.)

he was close enough to kiss, you noted, though you weren't sure why. his face hovered close to yours and you could see the puffs of breath ghosting your cheeks. he's warm, so warm, and you're so tired- you don't even realize, but you slouch against him.

"you're probably right," you concede.

gojo is still, unsure of what to do. there's a pretty girl half-asleep on his chest in the freezing cold, one who he kind of hates but also thinks is really, really cute, and all he can do is place a hand on the side of your head and hold you there in a passive not-a-hug.

in a split-second, he realizes, though; he's not too sure if he can dislike you anymore. he'd thought of you as uncaring, but he supposes that can't be true anymore- not when you're desperate enough to know the ending of the story to traverse the snow in your fuzzy raccoon socks. you care a little, at least, about something.

(maybe gojo's grasping at straws to find a reason to justify his sudden liking of you. it works for him, though, because he smiles down at the top of your head and a warmth expands in the pit of his stomach.)

you pull yourself back drowsily, almost swaying where you stand. in an act of uncharacteristic kindness, gojo leads you back inside. you don't protest. he makes an amicable conversation with you, chattering away at half his normal volume to spare you the jarring sound of his blabbering.

"what book were you looking for, anyways?" he inquires at some point.

you're all but leaning against him as he guides you back to your dorm. he plans on leaving you there, because you're basically already dead on your feet and will probably pass out and die if you keep looking.

"kafka on the shore."

"i didn't know you knew murakami."

you manage a wry look through your heavy eyelids. "i didn't know you knew how to read."

he feigns a gasp and clasps a hand over his heart. "do you even know who i am?"

you hum contemplatively. "not really. but i wouldn't mind getting to know you."

his heart stops, and stutters. he hopes you're too tired to notice the rose flush gracing his cheeks. at this point, you've both made it to your dorm and you're already sitting on your bed. you look at him with your head tipped to the side and gojo realizes: he definitely doesn't dislike you. he might even go as far as to say he enjoys your company, if only a little bit.

he doesn't reply to your previous statement. "goodnight," he says instead, gently sliding the door shut. he hears you mutter a half-hearted 'sleep well' but he's already skipping back to his dorm room, grinning like a buffoon. he might as well be giggling and singing and dancing, with the way he feels like a child.

okay, so yes, gojo satoru probably liked you. maybe a little, probably a lot.

(he finds your copy of kafka on the shore in the common room the next morning. he thinks he'll give it back to you with a little note, asking you to a nice lunch with him later that day.)

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen gojou #reader insert #ew this is kind of nasty but ive been neglecting jjk #SORRY IM BACK I STILL LOVE U

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sipsteainanxiety · 2 years

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give my all (to you) [1] || katsuki b.

pairing: merman!bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 8.6k+

mentions: no pronouns used, scientist reader, second person, this is fashionably late but i blame my broken laptop, not edited, hey rmb when i said the estimated wc would be 20k... that was a lie...

masterlist

One of the perks of the university you went to was the immense funding of graduate research projects. All you needed was a proposal, a list of materials, and a contract stating that you would not abuse the money funded to you for purposes other than research. If they deemed your thesis worthy, you would be given a package that could either partially or fully fund your project. You were lucky enough to be considered and chosen as one of the students to receive full funding with your proposal centered around ocean acidification and the effects it had on coral reefs. One rented sailboat and set of scuba diving gear later, you found yourself drifting lazily out in the vast waters of the Pacific Ocean with nothing but the marine life for company.

Of course, the only thing you could do out here was collect and document samples. Most of the analysis had to be done back at the university building, where all the proper equipment for checking general water chemistry—like salinity and carbonic acid levels—were stored. You did have some high-powered microscopes to inspect the water and coral, so you supposed there was still something you could do as you sailed back and forth from the shore and open waters. In hindsight, though, there wasn’t really much for you to do out here other than swim around and record the numerous species littering the reefs near the ocean floor. You didn’t mind; you considered this a much needed vacation from the cruel life of a student in grad school. And if your money-hungry university was funding everything then hey, who were you to not take at least some advantage?

The first week, two weeks, was nothing but smooth sailing. You stayed out for a week or so taking samples, monitoring coral growth rates, and exhausting your food supply, then you would head back to the university to take a few day’s break to do some analysis and update your mentor. The routine persisted, and you had fallen into a state of expectancy towards the blissful nothingness that awaited you in the miles and miles of salt water and open air.

What you didn’t expect, however, was the fucking mermaid. Or rather, the merman.

For the entirety of week three, there were times when you felt you were being watched. This was odd since you were sure there was no one but you out on the ocean—unless you were being spied on by a dolphin, which you doubted. You’d first noticed it as you were numbering vials of ocean water out on the deck, papers, pens, and tubes scattered all around you. At the time, you’d just brushed it off, thinking that the heat of the sun was just getting to you. Now though, the burning feeling of being stared at was too persistent to be ignored.

As you scuba dived near the bright and colorful reefs a few days after that first occurrence, you could’ve sworn you kept seeing something dark and... large swimming at the very corner of your vision. You chalked it up to a dolphin again, maybe a curious shark, but something in your gut twisted at the thought of it possibly being something else. In curiosity or fright, you would never know, but you were all too aware that getting hurt while you were in the middle of the ocean was not the ideal situation to be in.

What you did come to eventually notice was the diminishing amount of coral samples you had collected over the few weeks you had been out on the open waters. By ‘diminishing amount’ you meant they were just. Completely gone. At first you thought you had simply misplaced them, but after scouring your little boat from top to bottom, left to right, front to back, you realized they weren’t anywhere to be found. What you did find, however, were empty, labeled jars scattered around the deck. The very same jars you had been using to put the samples in. This wouldn’t have been so concerning if you had company, but you were alone and starting to wonder if you were either very forgetful or… well, you didn’t even want to consider the other option.

The entire situation was puzzling, especially since it hadn’t been a problem for the first three weeks you had been collecting the coral samples. You scratched your head at the predicament and decided to just collect some more, this time making sure you had documented and stored them properly in the special thermoregulated box you had purchased. A few days later, however, they were gone, plucked right from the box as though they had never been put in there in the first place, and the jars once more were scattered along your boat.

Now, you wouldn’t call yourself mental or delirious at this moment, but you were really starting to wonder if staying out in the blazing sun all day was a good idea.

It wasn’t until you woke up one night to the motion of your boat canting to the side that you finally uncovered the truth behind the missing samples. And boy, you would’ve believed that they had just grown legs and walked away rather than this.

Blinking rapidly in the dim lighting provided by the full moon, you slowly raised yourself from your little cottage bed, trying to prevent yourself from rolling to the side as the boat leaned heavily to the right. You could practically hear your heart pounding in your chest as something heavy slapped itself onto what sounded like the deck. Frozen in place, you waited as the boat swayed side to side before assuming its original upright position. The boat’s cabin, where you slept, was separated from the outside deck by a door. It brought you a little bit of comfort, knowing that whatever had heaved itself onto your boat couldn’t see you (and hopefully get to you if it happened to be dangerous).

Breathing bated, you listened to what sounded like slithering sounds coming from beyond the door, mind racing with the possibilities of what could be out there. Maybe a curious octopus? A seal? You were stumped. Part of you really wanted to know what the fuck kind of marine animal had managed to pull itself onto your boat, but the other part just wanted to hide under your blankets and hope it would eventually go away. Those two parts battled it out for a few moments before you eventually found yourself silently tossing off the covers, bare feet coming into contact with the cool, wooden floor of the boat.

As quietly as you possibly could, you crept up the few stairs to the door, keeping your stance slightly slouched as you neared the small, circular window positioned near the top of it. Most of the moonlight was coming from that little section of glass, allowing you to be able to see the outside somewhat better. And what you saw made you slap a hand over your mouth to prevent a gasp from escaping into the quiet night.

The first thing that caught your attention was the long, sleek, gradient-esque tail that glistened in the moon’s dim lighting. It was massive, spanning nearly the entire width of your boat. If you had to provide an estimate, you would say it was at least two meters long and consisted of approximately a quarter of a ton of pure muscle. Your eyes trailed from the dark, wispy tip of the tail, all the way to the middle of the creature’s body, where tangerine scales shifted gradually into sculpted skin. Human skin.

You were looking at a fucking merman.

I must be dreaming or something, you thought to yourself as you stared at him. He had the upper torso of a pro swimmer, muscles defined all along a lean torso that had rather broad shoulders. His skin was a light tan color and speckled with more tangerine scales, droplets of water dripping down from his chest and arms as he hovered over a hatch on the deck that led to a small storage space that contained all your research materials. Ash-blond, wet hair was plastered around his gilled neck and head, framing a sharply angled face with an expression that was pulled into a scowl. At first, you looked at him in awe, mind failing to comprehend the idea of merpeople existing in the depths of the ocean. Then, once you realized he was rummaging around and plucking your coral samples right from their box, your eyes narrowed.

So this was the cause of your missing work.

Now, you had two choices here. You could either confront this creature, beat the shit out of it for stealing your stuff, and go back to sleep unharmed. Or you could think about beating the shit out of it and just go straight to bed. You weighed both options heavily in your mind, eyes darting from the merman’s sharp claws, to his frankly terrifying look, and arms that could easily snap your neck like a twig. Then you looked at the jars he was scooping out of the box, weeks of work being tossed down the drain. Sure you could just change location and hope you would never see this fucking thing again, but it would set your project back by months and you did not have the time to spare. Mind made up, you took a deep breath and promptly slammed the cabin door open.

“Hey!” you shouted with more gusto than you were sure you had, hands on your hips as you set your expression into the fiercest one you could muster. You didn’t dare step closer, watching as he turned his head sharply to glare right at you with burning crimson eyes. Swallowing down your unease, you glared right back. “The fuck do you think you’re doing? That’s weeks of work you’re taking!”

He growled, a deep thing that rumbled from within his chest and made the hairs on your arms stand straight up. You didn’t let yourself waver, continuing to frown at him even as he raised himself up further with his tail, scarred arms loaded with jars. You crossed your arms as he used his tail to push himself over to you, internally screaming at just how much larger he was than you, your form completely drowned in his shadow alone. Please let me be dreaming. He looked down at you, lips pulled back in a snarl that showed off his shark-like teeth. This close proximity to you allowed you to see the thin, orange fins attached to the sides of his head—fins that were fanned out in a way that made him look even more threatening. Suddenly, you were feeling regretful.

When all he did was glare harshly at you, the hair on his head practically standing up straight, you decided you couldn’t just stand there in silence, waiting for him to either leave or bitch slap your body into the ocean. Huffing through your nose, you pointed to the jars. “I need those for a project I’m doing, and I can’t analyze them if your bitchass keeps stealing them before I can properly document them.” Could he even understand you? Judging by the way his gaze went down to the jars, then back up to your face only to narrow even further, you guessed he could.

“‘Stealing’?” he hissed out and you nearly had a heart attack at how pissed he sounded. Well, you didn’t know how he could speak English back to you, but you weren’t going to question the angry merman. “S’not yours.”

“What are you talking about, those are my samples—”

“Not fuckin’ yours,” he growled out louder than before and without even waiting for your reply, he dove into the ocean, using his tail to push himself over the railing of the boat in an arc that sent water splashing onto the deck. You gaped at the spot where he disappeared under the darkness of the water, your clothes slightly wet from the splash. For a few seconds, you just stood there, watching as the ripples from his landing in the water extended outwards. Then you made your way to the still-open hatch to check the contents of the box. It was completely empty. Cursing under your breath, you stood up and debated on what to do, but before you could even form a coherent thought, something hard hit the back of your head.

“What the—” You spun around abruptly only to let out a yelp and duck down as the jars that’d been holding your samples came sailing through the air towards you. Thank god they were plastic and not glass. “Did you seriously dump all my stuff?” you yelled out as you shot back up to your feet and sent a glare at the stupid merman whose head was just above the glistening water.

He glared at you, acting like he didn’t just purposely throw those jars at your head. “Shitty human. Damaging reefs.”

“It’s not—” You took a deep breath as your mind connected the dots of what he was trying to say. This must’ve looked really bad from his perspective. You felt kind of bad now. “Okay, look, I’m sorry if it seems like I’m harming the reefs, but I’m actually trying to help them by conducting research. I can take smaller samples if you want, but I just can’t not take any.” You tried your best to squint out at him through the moonlight, seeing him still staring at you.

“‘Help’?” he echoed, the word sounding more like a gruff statement than a question. You bit your lip as you thought about how to explain yourself in a way that would stop the merman from harassing you like this. Maybe you could scare him off by using a bunch of scientific jargon, but judging by his looks, it’d probably be safe to say it wouldn’t be easy to do so.

“Okay”—you sighed out, stepping a little bit closer to the rail of the boat so you could see the merman’s head easier—“basically, carbonic acid, which forms when carbon dioxide dissolves into the ocean and combines with water—” Off you went, explaining what was essentially equated as the abstract to your paper. You kept an eye on his expression, trying to gauge his thoughts on the topic, but it seemed like it was forever set in an irate look, so you didn’t know what was possibly going through his head. It likely was a good sign that he stuck around long enough for you to word vomit your thesis, but you doubted he understood a majority of what you were saying.

“—so by comparing my results with a paper from years ago we can see the effects of ocean acidification and start building on ideas to help coral reefs and… yeah…” You cleared your throat awkwardly, aware that you had talked so much your tongue had gotten dried out and the sky was starting to lighten ever so slightly. You stared at the merman, waiting for him to say, well, anything really. He stared back at you some more, his jaw shifting a bit before he promptly spat salt water at your face and ducked back under the water. You spluttered and blinked at the spot he disappeared, waiting for him to resurface, but when he didn’t, you huffed in exasperation, face dripping wet.

Merman or not, this guy was fucking rude.

The following morning, you were preparing for another dive to gather more samples to replace the ones you’d lost. You didn’t have any time to waste, especially since you’d been set back by weeks. Part of you really didn’t want to go in the water knowing there was a pissed merman swimming around, but the other part was curious. Actual merpeople? Living in the ocean? It was interesting, and the scientific side of you was itching to learn more—if you hadn’t dreamt it all up, that is.

Were you even sure that had all happened? It seemed less and less real, the more you thought about it, but the empty jars scattered on your deck proved otherwise. You knew what you saw, and you trusted yourself. You’d be fine. Probably.

You were still wary of trapping yourself in the water with a creature that clearly had an advantage. But you figured if he hadn’t harmed you last night, he had no reason to do so today. Hopefully. Just in case though, you stashed a small dagger in your diving pouch. For self defense, of course.

After ensuring the anchor was lowered, tugging on your wetsuit, checking your equipment, and gathering all the proper materials you needed, you slipped into the cool water and bobbed gently on the surface. You adjusted your dive mask and put the regulator into your mouth, doing another check on your oxygen tank and pressure gauges before finally ducking into the water.

The depths of the ocean never failed to amaze you every time you opened your eyes to take it all in. Once you adjusted to the shifting colors of teal, cerulean, and turquoise that surrounded you, a whole other world was revealed. Little striped fishes, the occasional turtle, sometimes even a dolphin would swim by as you dove deeper down to the floor of the ocean. Luckily, the reef you had been collecting samples from was not too far from the surface, so the sun’s rays were still able to reach you and provide light.

You found yourself hovering around a section of the reef that you hadn’t taken samples from yet. There were brightly colored anemones scattered here and there, waving gently through the water amongst patches of coral that reminded you of a brain. There was also a group off to your left that looked like long strands of red hair. Not too far from that were ones that looked like the sun, with yellow petals that extended outwards from the top of a stumpy, purple base. You had a camera on your boat to take pictures of the reefs to look out for coral bleaching over an extended period of time, but you only needed to use it once every week or so. No point in taking pictures every time you dove down—you’d have to sort through too many photos otherwise and it would be hard to see any minute differences in the reefs anyways.

There were some clown fishes darting around before you, along with the occasional shrimp and seahorse that swam away from your much larger form. You looked down at the diving pouch attached to your hip and opened it up so you could grab a small tube from one of the velcro loops inside of it, along with a pair of tweezers. These were the same tubes you used to collect water—only now, thanks to a certain pissed off merman, you were using it to store smaller pieces of coral. Honestly, those samples you’d been taking before in the plastic jars hadn’t even been that large. You rolled your eyes to yourself and glanced at the label you’d already put on the tube you withdrew so you could check what species of coral you’d designated it to.

A. cervicornis (Staghorn). You glanced around until you spotted the familiar, cylindrical branches of the Staghorn and swam towards it. Before you had even started taking samples from this particular reef, you had documented all the species of coral so you could prelabel your jars and tubes. It just made everything easier for you in the long term.

Fumbling only slightly, you uncorked the little tube and watched as the air inside was displaced by salt water. With it grasped in one hand and the tweezers grasped in the other, you leaned closer to the Staghorn and reached out to pick off the teeniest, tiniest chunk from the tip of one of its branches.

Only, before you could, something large moved in your periphery.

To your credit, you jerked to the side only slightly, wary if the thing was a shark that’d crept up on you or something. But no, it was the merman, looking just as pissed as ever once you snapped your head to the left to see him. You froze, one arm still extended out to the coral branch as you made eye contact with him and his bright crimson eyes.

Last night’s lighting hadn’t done him justice at all.

He really was fucking huge, basically dwarfing you in the water. The tangerine scales that littered his torso and made up a majority of his tail looked nearly gold in the sunlight filtering through the ocean. It was interesting seeing the way his tail followed an ombré gradient, ending with wispy, black flukes. His ash-blond hair waved delicately around his head and moved with the gentle flow of the current. You’d call him pretty if he wasn’t glaring at you so harshly, a suspicious look on his face.

Well, you thought wryly to yourself, at least now I know he’s real for sure I guess.

You watched as he slowly—fluidly—swam around you in a circle in a motion that was reminiscent of a shark circling its prey. His tail carried him forward in powerful movements, the muscles flexing constantly throughout it. His eyes moved to squint at the items in your hands, then at the goggles that covered your eyes and the regulator you held in your mouth. You didn’t dare move a muscle—you wanted to see if he would do anything. But after glaring at you for what felt like hours, he just swam over to the side of the reef directly opposite of you, and watched you through the coral.

You entered this sort of strange staring contest with him, waiting in case he did something else. When it became apparent that he wouldn’t, however, you decided to simply resume what you came here to do. This was fine. He could stare at you all he wanted, but it wasn’t going to stop you from working on your research.

With that, you plucked a tiny piece of coral from the Staghorn branch, then quickly stored it in the tube before recorking it. The merman was raptly watching your movements when you briefly looked at him, his eyes tracking the motions of your hands. You glanced down at the little waterproof watch you had attached to your wrist and pressed a little button at the side of it to mark the time of collection. Afterwards, you placed the tube back in your diving pouch, making sure to velcro it in its given spot so it wouldn’t float away. One down, nine more to go.

You kept an eye on the merman as you grabbed another empty tube, then read the name off of it so you could locate the next coral species you needed. H. coerulea (Blue coral). Off you went, swimming around in search of the familiar blue-branched species as your unexpected companion slowly followed after you. He kept his distance, of course, never getting too close or too far. But he was so focused and unrelenting in his gaze that you felt you were being assessed or something. He did this the entire time you were around the reef and only until you started to swim back up towards the surface so you could decompress did he finally dart away into the distance.

And so began the strange experience of being tailed by a merman.

Any time you ended up scuba diving in the ocean, he was always somewhat nearby, his—frankly unsettling—stare focused on you in an instant. You figured he wanted to keep an eye on you to make sure you weren’t taking any larger coral samples, if your first encounter was any indication. But he not only appeared as you were using your tweezers on different species, but also as you were installing calcification accretion units to measure calcium carbonate levels and coral growth rates. He even followed you as you took water samples and measured temperatures! Those didn’t even require you to be near the reefs!

He just never followed you when you were heading to the surface, not that you blamed him. Sometimes, though, as you sat on your deck writing down your evidence in your little science journal or monitoring your equipment, you could swear you’d see a head pop out of the water to watch you for a few seconds. Then it would be gone.

You supposed he was curious—or at least, that was what you wanted to think. He probably didn’t see many humans, which was fair. You didn’t see a lot of merpeople either. You both were equally as curious of each other, probably. Your gaze tended to drift to him swimming off to your side anytime you were in the water, watching his smooth motions and observing the way his tail propelled him through the water. He could probably crush you, rip you to shreds, if you thought about it. The idea was unsettling.

It wasn’t like you purposely went looking for him anyways. He just—showed up! Like he knew you were going to be there. Or maybe he was keeping a closer eye on you than you thought. You didn’t know if you should feel honored or alarmed that a very obvious predator of the sea was constantly watching you—you saw his sharp teeth and his strange, black claws. He was definitely a force to be reckoned with and you tried your best to keep your distance.

One day, however, you noticed he kept getting closer and closer.

Where he used to watch you from the opposite side of the reef anytime you were down here before, now he was practically right next to you. He’d even swim closer whenever you just wanted to roam around and watch the marine life. Maybe he was just getting bolder, you didn’t know. Maybe he wanted to intimidate you even further. Either way, you did your best to not be too bothered by him. If he wanted to watch you up close, then who were you to stop him? You could pretend that he was a curious dolphin or something.

He didn’t always stay close to you. There were days where he just didn’t interact or follow you at all, preferring to keep his distance. There were also days where he just wouldn’t show up. You didn’t mind, but it still made you wonder what he was thinking. He was surprisingly non-conversational—the first encounter you had with him was the most you’d heard him speak by far, and he hadn’t even said much in hindsight! To be fair, though, you were underwater most of the times when he’d show up. You couldn’t exactly hear him, especially when you had your dive mask protecting your ears.

Things between the two of you finally started to shift one day when you saw a turtle swimming around with a plastic bag wrapped around its shell.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to see a bunch of garbage floating around here and there. Hell, you’d even see plastic water bottles sticking out between coral branches sometimes. You always tried to clean up, even just a little, by collecting whatever trash you saw and storing it in a bag on your boat to throw away the next time you went to the shore.

So when you saw this poor turtle struggling to swim around due to a dumb fucking bag, you couldn’t help but to reach out to it.

The turtle had been trying to swim away from you as you attempted to get close to it, but somehow you managed to catch it and rip through the flimsy plastic to free its shell and flippers. It seemed much happier as it freely swam away, and you stared down at the plastic in your hand before you rolled your eyes and made your way back to the surface to toss the thing onto your boat.

A few days later, you were sitting on the edge of the deck, letting your feet dangle off the side of your boat to graze the water as you enjoyed the warmth from the sun and ambiance of the ocean. Your journal was sitting neatly on your lap as you bent slightly over it and scratched in the timestamps from your watch as well as the temperatures you’d recorded from the air and water for that day. You hadn’t seen the merman for a bit, seeing that you just spent the last few days monitoring your equipment and looking at samples with your microscope.

So imagine your surprise when you glanced up at the water only to see half a head peering at you from a few meters away.

You almost jolted in surprise, but you caught yourself and instead raised an eyebrow at the merman. His ash-blond hair was covering most of what you could see, but that didn’t stop him from continuing that strange stare of his. You haven't had the chance to look at him in the daytime eye-to-eye like this, so it was kind of weird when you both prolonged your eye contact. When his expression wasn’t scrunched up in anger, he had a very… inhuman feel to him. You didn’t know how to describe it—he was just eerily still in a way that felt unnatural. He was a merman, of course, so that was expected. But it was so easy to forget he wasn’t a human when he just looked so much like one—at least from the waist up.

It was creepy, you had to admit.

“What’s up?” you ended up asking the merman when he made no further motion to get closer or disappear back into the water. There had to be a reason why he was here now, right? He’d never done this before. The fins on his head moved towards you when you spoke and he raised his head further up from the water so that you could see the rest of his face. He looked unhappy, and for a moment you wondered what the fuck you could’ve done this time to upset him. But then he swam closer to you and lifted one of his webbed hands so that he could brandish a crushed Coke can.

You blinked at him, then stared at the can. “Uhh…” He waved his hand almost impatiently at you and let out an irritated clicking sound. You hesitantly reached out and took the can from him. “...Thanks?” He blinked at you—not a normal, human blink, but a sideways one with a second pair of eyelids that appeared translucent—then ducked back under the water.

You stared at the spot he disappeared. That was weird. You moved your gaze to the red can you held in your hand, then set it off to the side. You’d throw it away later.

From then on, the merman started bringing you trash. Crushed cans, plastic bottles, fishing lines, anything and everything that was man made. You caught on to what he was doing pretty quickly, but you found that you didn’t mind all too much. You didn’t expect him to initiate such contact, but it was kind of nice. It made you feel special, dumb as it sounded. You almost looked forward to seeing him approach you with garbage, which—when you thought about it—honestly sounded rather sad. But you’d take it over him stealing your research any day.

You were sitting on your deck, inspecting the coral samples you’d placed in the thermoregulated box you had, when you heard a clicking sound.

At first you ignored it, chalking it up to some strange sound coming from the boat or a dolphin or something. After all, it wasn’t unusual for you to hear the occasional odd sound from the ocean life—you just learned to let it settle naturally in the background of things as you tended to your duties. You were determined to stay focused on your work—at least until you finished inspecting the tube you held in your hand. You scribbled down a few things in your journal, not even registering the next few irate clicking sounds. That is, until they evolved into something else.

“Oi.”

That certainly caught your attention.

You looked up and raised an eyebrow when you saw a familiar ash-blond head poking up from the side of your boat. He was holding himself up with his forearms on the deck, the top of his hair just barely brushing against the lowest bar of the railing along the boat’s perimeter. He really was getting bolder and bolder—you hadn’t seen him dare to touch the boat since the first night you’d met him.

“Oh?” you drawled, setting down the tube back in its box and closing it before you ventured to scoot closer to the merman. You sat cross-legged a few feet in front of him, still wary of his sharp claws. He frowned at you, his ear fins swiveling in your direction, but otherwise didn’t do anything. That was an improvement. “He speaks?”

He scowled, an intimidating thing that reminded you, yet again, that you were not dealing with a human. “‘Course I speak.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you snorted, “I’d been wondering if I’d imagined the whole thing or not.” You looked at him curiously, watching the way rivulets of salt water slid down his unblemished face and scarred arms. This was so strange to think about. “Where did you even learn English? Did someone teach you?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have asked that. The merman bared his teeth at you, a hiss escaping through them that had you raising your hands up in alarm. “Nunya business,” he grumbled, his eyes narrowed into slits. That was fine. If he wanted to be private about certain things then you could respect that.

“Okay, okay,” you soothed him as much as you could with your voice, trying to show that you’d meant no harm. You lowered your hands back to your lap, where they fiddled with the pages of your journal that you hadn’t realized you’d brought with you. “I get it. No questions.” Concerning more sensitive topics, anyways. You had a feeling a lot of things would be trial and error when it came to him.

The merman let out a hmph, but otherwise didn’t say anything else. You noticed his eyes had fallen from your face and you followed his gaze to see he was looking at your journal. He couldn’t have had books where he came from, right? Unless he had his own version of them. Either way, you curled your hands around your journal and lifted up the cover so you could flip through the pages. His eyes sharply tracked your movements, curious.

“Interested?” you asked with a small smile. His eyes darted up to your face then off to the side to feign disinterest. He let out a scoff, as though he hadn’t wanted you to catch him staring like that, but eventually he looked back and gave you another one of his unwavering looks. You’d take that as a reluctant yes. You scooted a bit closer and turned your journal around before setting it down between the two of you, its pages spread out and open.

“I write down all my research in here,” you said as you flipped slowly from page to page. He leaned up and closer, his squinted eyes moving from side to side as he traced over the charts and observations you’d written. You wondered if he understood any of it—if he could read as well as speak. “Growth rates, temperatures, descriptions, measurements… It’s all in here.” You tapped a finger on one of the drawing’s you’d done from memory of a coral bed. “I’m not the best artist, but anything helps.” He seemed to linger on the sketches especially—maybe since they were the most familiar to him.

You turned your head and pointed over at the thermoregulated box somewhere behind you. The merman followed your finger, his head tilting to the side so he could peer around you. “All those samples are gonna be taken back to my university so I can do some more analysis and stuff. Since I’m taking small pieces at the edges of the coral branches it’s not harming the reefs, so you don’t have to worry about that. They’ll grow back.”

He looked like he was processing what you were saying as his eyes flicked up to your face and down at your journal. They were such an interesting shade of red, you thought to yourself, as you took the moment to observe him. You wondered if they were that color to help him see better in the deeper depths of the ocean.

“Uni… vershity?” he mumbled rather gruffly, as though testing the word on his tongue.

“University,” you enunciated, trying not to feel too self-conscious as he watched the movements of your lips. “It's a school for older people, basically.”

He hummed in a way that you figured was meant to be nonchalant. But this—you were certain—let you know he was much more curious about human things than he was letting on. You hid a smile as you watched him tentatively rub his wet fingers on the deck to dry them, then reach out to lightly touch the pages of your journal.

And after you explained all that you could about what you’d been collecting, observing, writing, drawing, he looked up at you and told you his name. Succinctly, quietly. As though he wanted to give you something in return for all the things you’d taught him at that moment.

Then he disappeared, back into the ocean he came from.

Life with Katsuki around certainly kept you on your toes.

He started appearing more and more at the edge of your boat, his strong arms holding himself up as he watched you do your usual routine. You wondered how he never got tired from hanging off the side of the boat, but you supposed spending an entire life swimming around in the sea would make anyone’s upper body strength nearly immeasurable. You almost envied him, but well, you supposed your strengths lay elsewhere.

Sometimes Katsuki just stared, content with quietly observing you. It was a bit awkward at first, but you grew used to it. Besides, the company was nice—you hadn’t realized you’d been feeling a bit lonely out on the ocean until you had him constantly around. He didn’t need to speak, but just being at the edge of your periphery was enough.

There were times, though, where he would get curious and ask questions. He didn’t ask them like a normal person—merperson?—would, you noticed, but rather he’d impatiently make a sound until you looked at him and then obviously stare at something until you got the hint that he was asking what you were doing. Sometimes you’d act like you didn’t understand until he got all huffy and decided to use his voice. It was a bit amusing. You figured out pretty quickly that he still didn’t like to speak all too much. Maybe he was aware that his English wasn’t the best, maybe he was still wary of you, but you assumed that he’d eventually get comfortable the more he hung around you.

You started thinking of things you could show him to entertain him more. You spent one night hunting around in your cabin for something, anything. You didn’t really bring much, in hindsight. You had books you read when you weren’t doing research, but you didn’t think those would be particularly useful for him, seeing that he couldn’t read. You made a note to grab some more random items when you went back to the shore.

The next time you saw him, you ended up snatching a sketchbook you brought with you, along with a pencil and a small, white towel that he could use to wipe his hands.

“Okay, here we go,” you said cheerfully as you kneeled down and set the sketchbook in front of him. He eyed you curiously then looked down as you flipped open the book to a fresh page and started writing out the alphabet on it. He could try copying them if he didn’t want to draw. “I don’t have too many things to show you, unfortunately, but I figured you could try drawing or writing or something in this.” You finished scrawling out the letter ‘z’ then wrote out his name underneath it. After a quick moment of deliberation, you wrote your name as well.

You turned the book around so he could look at what you’d written. “This is the alphabet,” you said as you circled the pencil around the page. “This is your name.” You tapped the pencil on top of the neat Katsuki, then shifted it over. “And this is my name.” He stared at the page in interest and you set down the pencil in the crease of the book before you held out the small towel to him. “Use this to wipe your hands. So you don’t get the pages wet.”

You waited patiently as he squinted and tilted his head while he observed the towel. After he deemed it worthy of his grasp, he reached out a hand and snatched it from you so he could bring it closer to his face. You leaned back to give him some room and watched as the muscles in his biceps tensed. He lifted himself up some more so he could get a better hold on the deck with his elbows. Then he started patting down his forearm a bit awkwardly. Eventually, though, he got confident enough that he was able to towel off his arms and hands before tossing the towel back at you. It landed on your thigh. You had to suppress a smile.

“Good”—you pushed the sketchbook closer to him—”do whatever you want with it.”

With that, you stood up and brushed your pants off. You didn’t think he’d appreciate it if you watched him so closely as he wrote, so you gave him some space as you went off to tend to your own tasks. You did watch him out of your periphery at times, however, especially as he shifted more on top of the deck so he could grab the pencil. He rolled it between two fingers a bit, then stared at the sharpened tip. You bit on the inside of your lip to stop yourself from making a sound, then turned so you could grab your own journal. It was a bit entertaining to watch him observe things like this. He probably hadn’t seen a pencil before—or used one, for that matter.

You noticed, after some time had passed, that he did end up getting the hang of using the pencil as he scribbled away. You supposed all those times of him watching you jot things down had paid off. He looked focused, his body now halfway on top of the deck as he rested on his stomach. His tail was still overboard, dipping into the water, but he’d made himself more comfortable as he held himself up on his forearm. He kind of reminded you of a child, with the way he was so invested in his work.

Later, once he’d disappeared back into the ocean, you walked over to the closed sketchbook and picked it up. He’d left the pencil on top of it, so you grabbed it and stuck it behind your ear as you flicked through the pages to see what he’d scrawled. You were curious, you couldn’t help it.

The page next to the one where you’d written the alphabet and names down were full of rough, solid lines. Like he’d gone all in without knowing how hard to press the pencil to the page. He got better, of course, the more you went down the page and flipped to a few others. The lines turned to scribbles. Then they formed shaky letters. You smiled lightly as you saw him attempting to scrawl out your name. On another page, he had some more random letters here and there before he wrote his name in large, chunky blocks. He was a quick learner. You were kind of impressed.

The page next to it had a doodle of what looked like a coral of some sorts. Maybe an anemone. There was a little fish next to it, with some wavy lines at the top that you supposed represented the ocean’s surface. You didn’t expect him to be the best artist out there, of course, but you had to admit his drawing skills rivaled some of your colleagues’ back at your university. You let out a breath of air and shut the book with a small snap.

You were out on the deck, getting ready for another dive, when you heard a splash followed by a familiar voice.

“Swimmin’?” Katsuki asked once he poked his head up and saw you messing around with your gear.

“Yeah,” you replied as you fastened your diving belt around your waist. Next went the buoyancy compensator and oxygen tank on your back. Today you intended to grab the pictures of the reefs and marine life you needed for your coral bleaching observations over time. You’d already grabbed your underwater camera and placed it in one of the pouches on your belt. “I just gotta check that I have everything…” Pressure gauge was fine, your regulator was hanging around your neck… You were pretty much set.

Katsuki watched with interest as you walked over to the opening in the rail around the boat and sat down on the floor so you could slip on your fins. He dropped back down into the water and swam a bit closer, eyeing up the wires and devices on your body.

“What’s…” He lifted his hand from the water and made a gesture behind him. You raised an eyebrow, then realized he was pointing to your oxygen tank.

“Oh, this just helps me breathe underwater,” you told him. When his eyes moved to watch you fasten the right fin on your foot, you continued on. “These help me to swim easier.” You extended your legs and wiggled your feet. He seemed really invested in them, for he moved closer until he was able to reach up and grab onto your ankle.

It was weird, feeling him hold you there. You didn’t dare move, aware that this was the first time he’d actively attempted to touch you. The one thing you’d learned, as you got to know Katsuki more and more, was that it was important for him to reach out first, not you. He was pretty tense most of the time, not to mention insanely aware. He twisted your foot this way and that, watching the way the fins moved with the motion.

“Weird,” he muttered as he trailed a clawed hand up from the bottom of your heel to the tip of the fin.

“You’re weird,” you retorted, trying not to squirm too much. You knew he was just curious, but still, you were ticklish!

Katsuki’s eyes darted up to you, as though realizing that he was indeed currently holding onto a human’s ankle. And before you could even open your mouth to say something, he grinned wildly—mischievously—as he abruptly yanked on your ankle. Hard.

You yelped as you went plunging into the ocean, the cool temperature making you tense up. Water went into your mouth and up your nose, an uncomfortable feeling that had you coughing and spluttering once you broke the surface to inhale gasps of air.

“N— Not cool!” you choked out as you rubbed the water out of your eyes. It stung slightly—you hadn’t gotten the chance to tug the mask over your face yet. You glared at him once you cleared out all the water—him and his smirking face. This merman was a fucking menace. “Asshole.”

He rasped out what sounded like a laugh. You honestly weren’t entirely sure. You stuck your tongue out at him and fastened your mask over your eyes. Two could play at this game. Once you placed the regulator into your mouth, you ducked beneath the water, not intending to wait for him to catch up to you—not that he couldn’t with how much of an advantage he had in the water to begin with.

You swam down, heading towards the reefs you could see in the distance. Katsuki swam in circles around you. He lingered behind you at times to watch the way you moved your legs, but he mostly swam ahead and waited for you by the reef. You came to a stop a small distance away from it and fiddled around with your pouch so you could pull out your camera. It had a small, digitized screen on it that allowed you to see what you were taking pictures of.

You held the camera up to your face and snapped a few pictures. Then you swam to a different area so you could take some more. It was a quick process, so you never were down here for too long on days like this.

You didn’t think Katsuki ever saw you use the camera before. He swam up to you from the reef, tiny bubbles following in his wake, and hovered close by as he watched the way you operated it. You turned to look at him then gestured to the camera as you positioned it between the two of you so that he could see the small screen. You pressed on the shutter button a few times so he could see what was happening. Then you brought it back up to your face so you could take a quick photo of him. You wondered if he ever saw how he looked before. You showed him the screen before the picture of him could disappear and he immediately brought his face closer to it.

Katsuki looked at you when the picture vanished, his hair flowing around his head like a strange halo. He pointed to himself, then gestured at the camera as though to say that’s me? You nodded and did the same motion to confirm. You had a feeling he wanted to look at the picture some more, but he’d have to wait until you processed and printed them out.

He did seem interested in the camera, so you held it out to him. His gaze flicked between it and your face for a moment, but he eventually grabbed it from you. He held it uncertainly in his hands, careful not to scratch it with his claws. You pointed to the big button he needed to use to take a picture, then held your hands up to your face to demonstrate what to do.

He caught on quite quickly.

You drifted leisurely around, enjoying the sights and marine life that surrounded you, as Katsuki swam to and fro, taking pictures of anything and everything. Now that he had a new human thing in his grasp, he seemed eager to use it as much as he could. He took some photos of you—your fingers raised in a peace sign—then darted off to take some of the fishes and plants.

You were fine with just watching him. And when he finally finished taking pictures to his heart’s content, he approached you to give the camera back, the light dancing through the ocean from the surface making him look absolutely breathtaking with the way it bounced off his nearly golden scales.

Fuck, you thought as you took the camera from him and watched him swim off into the distance. I’m really friends with a fucking merman.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #3 weeks late but its finally here babeyy #katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha x reader #mha x reader #i didnt fucking expect this chapter to be 8k words oh my GOD #and the next ones are probably gonna follow this length too...#fml #aigmytykb #ew that abbreviation looks nasty LOL #like a keysmash

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