『midnight, midsummer』 — four
— pairing: shoto x reader — tags: university au, urban fantasy au, selkie shoto, accidental marriage (lmfao), faerie antics, 18+ — wc: 4.6k — notes: it Begins
“I have no intention of forcing you into anything,” Shoto says evenly, expression neutral despite the roiling depths of his mismatched eyes. He seems to hesitate slightly before he continues. “Let me propose something, then. A bargain.” Your eyebrows shoot up before you’re able to stop them. Shoto is offering to enter a faerie bargain with you? As though he can see the cogs turning in your head, the corner of his lips lifts in a half smile. He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes a moment before he lets the air go and meets your gaze once more. “If you find that you do not have any feelings for me at all, come Midsummer’s Eve, then I will dissolve this marriage and leave you be.” ---- You get a little more than you bargained for when you knock some poor guys coat off his chair in the library. You pick it up and give it back to him, of course, because that's what anyone would do, right? Well, apparently not when it comes to selkies.
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It’s at dusk the next day that you find yourself at a familiar stretch of sand and rocks.
You’re all dressed and ready to go to the celebration; you were actually on your way there, barely ten minutes away, but decided to stop for a few minutes. This is a beach you’ve been frequenting since you first came here. It’s where you go to sit with your thoughts and unwind. The ocean has always been a secret love of yours, and this beach is sequestered off and separated enough that more often than not you’re able to be in complete solitude while you bask in the sun and sea breeze.
You’re sure that amongst the dolphins and seals there is a bunch of sea-dwellers that can catch sight of you from the water, but you don’t have to deal with them in your everyday life so you’re relatively unbothered by it.
A particularly brisk breeze cuts against your skin, and with a shiver you shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket, nestling further into the fabric. However warm it may get during the day, the wind at night is another matter entirely.
You pause when, in the midst of your shivering, your fingers brush against something at the bottom of your pocket. Confused, you draw the item out and attempt to discern what it is in the moonlight.
Recognition lights in you not long after you set your eyes on it. Right, this is the jacket you were wearing when you arrived home to the ring and orchid on your front porch. Normally you’d be inclined to shove it back into your pocket in an effort to forget about it, but for some reason you feel like you can look at it without having a lowkey panic attack today.
Drawing your other hand from your jacket, you crack open the box and retrieve the ring from inside. It’s a beautiful piece, you have to admit. The style is something you probably would have chosen yourself, too. You’ve never seen a pearl with this colouring before… it’s quite mesmerising to the eye. Against the backdrop of the night sky, it’s like your very own drop of the moon.
Your fingers fiddle with the band, fingertips dipping into the ring as though to put it on before shying away. A part of you kind of wants to see what it looks like on… but you’re paranoid that once it’s on it won’t come off.
It’s a little bit silly of you, really. You decide that fear is a little irrational and proceed to slip the band onto your ring finger.
… It looks good.
Immediately after that thought you rip the ring off your finger and cram it back into the box. Said box is then banished back to the depths of your jacket pocket, and you return to your original journey towards the docks in the distance. Stubbornly, you force yourself to think of something else, and decide to focus on your destination.
The location of the party is a place called Tinsel Cove – contrary to the name it isn’t a natural formation, but rather an abandoned warehouse that has since been repurposed into party central for the sea-dwellers. Hence, the tinsel. Between the ocean folk and the land fae, there is no shortage of celebrations year-round. This is only one of many regular haunts that host these parties, but it’s probably one of your favourites if only because of it’s proximity to the ocean.
True to what they had texted you earlier, Toru and Himiko are waiting for you at the entrance to the building. You actually hadn’t seen the former until you caught sight of Himiko next to her. Toru really blends in come nightfall. As you approach, she pulls something out from behind her and cracks it with both hands. Glow sticks. You try not to snort as she fashions them into jewellery.
“Looking good,” Himiko croons with lidded, appraising eyes, licking her lips. “Offer still stands if you’re up for some rapid weight loss.”
You laugh. You don’t think she would know what to do with herself if you ever said yes to one of her frequent, half-hearted requests for a drink of your blood. “I’ll have to decline – I’m quite happy with how I am currently. Plus, I don’t think your method is very recommended by health professionals.”
You’d heard bits and pieces of the music from half a mile away, but now that you’re approaching it’s quite booming. It would be just shy of deafening for those with more sensitive hearing. Your friends seem to hear you okay all the same, though, because they both snort.
“Right, well, enough standing out here-- there are drinks inside with our names on them. Everything but the green ones should be human friendly.”
“Noted,” you nod, following them both as they enter the building.
The insides are interesting, a peculiar combination of open and staggered design. There are portions of the warehouse that are completely unrestricted, nothing separating the floor and the sky-high ceilings. Other parts are sectioned off, with several levels to the structure. Each room seems to have its own little party happening, but in the open-plan area there are a bunch of different games occurring at once.
People all throughout the building are dancing, some more wholeheartedly than others, but there seems to be a section by the far corner where everyone who wishes to do so have gathered together. You make a note to avoid that corner like the plague, because if some drunk pixie grabs you and pulls you in like they did last time you’re not going to be able to move your legs for three days.
A mesmerising mixture of twinkling fairy lights and gradient LEDs (likely mixed with a few real faery lights) illuminate the room in ever-shifting hues, but shadows truly dominate the space. You didn’t realise how important the glow sticks were until you attempted to find your friend and only managed to locate her by the pink one she had fashioned into a choker around her neck.
“Don’t go wandering or I won’t catch sight of you ever again,” you joke, leaning down so Toru can actually hear you. She lets out a loud laugh that oddly reminds you of a tinkling bell. A lot of things about Toru are evidently hard for your human senses to perceive. They seem to be doing their best, though.
Himiko slips her arm around your waist, pulling you close. “First, let’s go check out the chaos over there – I think they’re playing potion pong and I saw that harpy pour something funky looking in some of the cups. It’s gonna be fun to watch.”
Toru is in immediate agreement, and loops her liquid-cool arm through your own. “That’s Tokoyami! He’s known for his odd creations in Concoctions class, so whoever has to drink his cup is going to have an interesting time.”
You are then unceremoniously dragged over, neither of them bothering to ask if you want to watch (probably because they already know the answer, but still). The three of you pick up drinks along the way, and your night officially begins.
True to Himiko and Toru’s words, the potion pong match does end up being really fun to watch. A majority of the drinks were safe, but a good number of them were rigged with potions that had weird effects once consumed. You watched someone’s hair turn red and mould into feathers at some point, and the most recent penalty you observed was a poor shifter who shrank about two feet and had to suffer a high-pitched voice every time they spoke. The potions wouldn’t last very long, the ones with outlandish effects never tend to, but you still felt a bit bad despite your laughter every time some poor sap got hit with another one.
You wouldn’t want it to be you, let’s put it that way.
While your friends had promised they would stick with you the whole night, and to their credit really attempted to keep you company for most of the time, you’re not really surprised when you slip away to get a drink and return to find they’ve wandered off somewhere.
Honestly, with the way Himiko was eyeing off someone in the corner who looked eerily like Izuku, you’re actually kind of relieved. You’ll find them again later anyway.
You walk around aimlessly for a bit, a few drinks down and feeling nicely buzzed. When you pause in front of a bunch of boys playing King’s Cup (or at least, some abridged version of it from the look of the rules and the weird mixture in the cup), you could swear that you feel someone’s eyes on you.
Turning to your left reveals a very familiar silhouette, violet hair as wild as ever and heavy-lidded eyes sporting a lazy, amused curve.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Hitoshi says, turning his gaze to the game beside him for a moment. “Have I missed the fun?”
You laugh, taking a generous sip of your drink. It’s purple-pink, and tastes like pomegranate and roses. You can identify the alcohol in it by the remnant heat as it slides down your throat, though.
“I only just started watching this one, so I’m not sure.” You peer over, wrinkling your nose. “Whatever is in the King’s cup looks nasty, though.”
“Oh, ew.” Hitoshi immediately agrees, eliciting another laugh from you. “Almost makes me miss the banquets and carnivals of the Night Quarter.”
This festivity is actually one of the more PG ones. You’ve been to a few that are a hell of a lot raunchier,muchmore R-19, and more often than not they’re hosted in that part of Moonhollow. The Night Quarter is home predominantly to those of demonic descent, incubi and succubi included along with the occasional yokai. While there is no true segregation in this city, historically those of similar ilk tend to naturally gravitate towards each other.
“Not enough orgies for you?” you ask, and Hitoshi bursts into laughter. He takes a sip of his own glowing drink before giving you an answer.
“Definitely not,” he snorts. “Or at least, not for Izuku. I’m not even kidding, you should see him in his element. Get him in the Night Quarter and he’s like a completely different person.”
Hitoshi is always telling you this. “I’ll believe it when I see it, dude.”
“You won’t believe it when you see it,” he insists, laughing. “I’m telling you, he only looks cute and innocent.”
Quite frankly, you refuse to believe anything that comes out of his mouth right now until you see proof for yourself. Hitoshi has bamboozled you before, and you won’t let it happen again.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, waving your hand. “Where is he, by the way? Don’t tell me you came here alone? All by your widdle sewlf?
The lavender-maned incubus rolls his eyes, but you catch the smile that tugs his lips. He tilts his head beyond you. “The stallion is over there.”
You turn, eyes seeking, and freeze. Izuku is over by one of the many drink stations, chatting to a small, familiar-looking group. That’s not what made your heart skip a beat, though. No, it was the glimpse of pearly-white hair you got when you first looked over. You don’t see it again in the moments following, though, and can only guess the owner had wandered off.
“Who was that talking to Izuku?”
You ask before you can stop yourself, and Hitoshi hums. “Ah, that’s Natsuo, one of the Todoroki kids. He only ever comes to gatherings held in the Marine Quarter, so Izuku tries to catch him when he can.”
You release a breath you didn’t even realise that you were holding, and you feel the reverberation of the music go straight through your chest. Ah, right. You’re spending tonight taking your mind off of everything that has been stressing you out – surely the universe wouldn’t be so quick to pull you up on your hubris? You need to chill out.
“Oh, I see,” you turn back to Hitoshi, downing the rest of your drink before shaking your cup. “Wanna come top-up with me and then hit-up giant jenga? I figure it’s probably one of the most human-friendly.”
The tall man agrees, downing the rest of his own drink and following your lead.
A long while later finds you leaning against the wall in a small little alcove, Hitoshi leaning back against the one opposite you with his feet between your own. You didn’t win jenga, but you also didn’t lose it either, so there’s that. The two of you ended up making the rounds through most of the weird shit happening in amongst the chaos of festivities, and he even managed to pull you into a brief dance that left you in a fit of laughter. You’ve lost count of how much alcohol you’ve consumed, and if you couldn’t hold your liquor so well, you’d most definitely be drunk by now.
“This is a good place to be in, drink wise,” you say aloud, mostly to yourself. You turn to Hitoshi. “Can you even get drunk?”
The incubus looks borderline offended. “Why would I even drink if I couldn’t get drunk? Stupid.”
You smack him lightly on the arm for that, and he laughs. You haven’t managed to find the two friends you initially came in with, but Hitoshi has done a good enough job of distracting you that your problems are the furthest thing from your mind right now.
The only thing you can’t seem to shake, is the thought of how nice he smells. It’s a characteristic of his genes, you know— the sweet honeysuckle scent that caresses your nose in the most unsuspecting moments. Your inhibitions are sufficiently lowered right now though, and you can’t help allowing yourself to acknowledge the thought.
“Did you forget whatever it was you were trying to forget?”
Considering you’d been completely lost in thought and staring off into the distant crowd of dancing bodies, the question takes you by surprise. You pin the incubus with a suspicious look. Since when was he in your head?
Hitoshi snorts. “I didn’t read your mind. You were just downing drinks like they were water, it wasn’t too hard to guess.”
You frown. You’re not sure you believe him, but it’s a lot of effort to be suspicious right now so you decide to let it go. You chew on your answer for a moment before releasing it into the air.
“Mostly.”
Hitoshi hums, leaning forward and craning his neck down slightly. His half-lidded eyes meet yours, still with that sense of playfulness that always seems to be present, but also something… different. Honeysuckle and traces of lavender swirl together, overwhelming your senses for a moment.
“Well, just how big of a distraction do you need?”
Your breath hitches ever so slightly in your throat, tummy doing a tiny little flip in something akin to excitement. You survey his features, scanning the open expression splayed upon them. Alright, you’re not opposed to this. You lean forward yourself with your eyes flicking to his lips, mouth opening to answer.
“I—”
“SHINSO!”
You jump in place, flinching back in bewilderment as familiar forest-hued hair blurs before your face. Hitoshi also flings back, eyes wide as they fall upon his friend.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, I need your help with something.” Izuku’s voice is bright as ever, but as he turns his gaze to you over his shoulder, you feel something is different. “Oh hey, y/n. Sorry, I gotta steal Hitoshi for a sec.”
You shrug, bringing your drink to your mouth and hoping the action hides the warmth swarming to your cheeks. “Yeah, do whatever you gotta do.”
“Thanks, sorry again! See you later y/n!”
You refuse to believe this boy has a hidden side to him.
Hitoshi is then whisked away before he can even give you the apologetic look beginning to form on his features. With his departure, the haze in your head brought about by the alluring aroma of honeysuckle and lavender seems to clear. If that had continued, you might have jumped him. You really need to get laid if you’re going for one of your friends.
You’re kind of at a loss for what to do now, but to be fair you probably need a moment to pull yourself together. Hitoshi wouldn’t have let his pheromones out on purpose, since it’s normal to lose control when inebriated, but it doesn’t change the fact that shit is strong. That wasn’t even a quarter of the full potential. You’d have been in trouble if they were any stronger tonight.
You draw a deep breath in through your nose, allowing your eyes to close. Calm, calm is good.
A hand slips around your waist and immediately breaks the illusion of peace you’d summoned, and your eyes shoot back open.
Warmth emanates from your side, lips brushing the shell of your ear. A familiar sensation washes over your limbs at the proximity.
“We need to talk, a mhuirnín.”
–
Things happened very rapidly from the moment you heard someone in your ear, and a chaotic few minutes later finds you here.
In a room somewhat distant from the heart of the festivities, with none other than Shoto Todoroki. Perhaps it really was him you saw earlier. Probably should have looked a bit harder.
Shoto had led you here with a gentle grip on your wrist, and to be honest you’d just allowed him to pull you along. You saw his face and in your buzzed state its handsomeness had momentarily stunned you. Kind of sad, really.
The door clicks closed behind the two of you, but you notice that it doesn’t lock. When he draws closer, you see that he has positioned himself further from the door, and you closer. Oddly thoughtful, but it pains you a little bit to realise he is giving you an easy escape because you’ve been unreasonably dodging his presence like the plague everywhere you go.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, without a single hint of accusation. You blink in surprise. His handsome features are neutral, and combined with his neat, dark clothes in stark contrast to the energy and crowd outside, it’s almost funny.
For once, your feet aren’t forcing you to flee. You decide to make the most of the opportunity.
“I have,” you admit, frowning a little. “Look… I should have said this sooner, but I’m sorry for how I acted when you came up to me. It’s not your fault, and I kind of just freaked out.”
Shoto tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You smack that thought down before it continues.
“You don’t have to apologise,” he says, and when his low, soft tone brushes your ears you find yourself relaxing involuntarily. His arms come up, hands cupping his elbows “I should have been more mindful of the fact that you’re… probably not used to things like that. I could have handled it better. I was just… excited. I apologise for making you uncomfortable.”
He continues to surprise you with each thing that leaves his mouth. His mismatched eyes are clear and earnest as they meet your own, thick brows drawn in a slight frown.
“As it turns out according to the magic, we are still married, though.”
Well, fuck.
The look on your face must be funny, because his lips tug up in a half smile. You can’t decide whether your heart dropped or skipped a beat as a result.
A different, familiar feeling is beginning to well in the depths of your chest. You attempt to squash the panic down, wanting to remain reasonable.
Shoto steps forward, head tilting once more. The music still booms in the background, but all you can focus on is him and the tingling feeling his gaze leaves on your skin.
“Why did you run, wife?”
For some reason, the term makes heat rush to your cheeks. It’s the alcohol, it has to be the alcohol.
Your sudden fluster has your mouth running before you can stop it.
“I- I can’t do it. I can’t just — This has all really happened so fast, and sudden, and I’m not ready for anything like this and I don’t – I don’t even really know you—“
You cut yourself off before you start sounding as panicked as you feel, and instantly regret the word-vomit you just released. A few beats of silence pass between you, each one weighing heavier on your shoulders, before the selkie finally hums.
“I have no intention of forcing you into anything,” Shoto says evenly, expression neutral despite the roiling depths of his mismatched eyes. Reading the look on your features, he seems to hesitate slightly before he continues, “Let me propose something, then. A bargain.”
Your eyebrows shoot up before you’re able to stop them. Shoto is offering to enter a faerie bargain with you? Something twists in your gut, a nameless feeling of unknown origin.
As though he can see the cogs turning in your head, the corner of his lips lifts in a half smile. He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes a moment before he lets the air go and meets your gaze once more.
The low, velvety timbre of his voice caresses your ears in the most persuasive of touches, almost succeeding in drawing your focus away from the important matter at hand.
“If you find that you do not have any feelings for me at all, come Midsummer’s Eve, then I will dissolve this marriage and leave you be.”
“That’s it?” you find yourself asking, disbelief colouring your words. Something deep within your chest is protesting his words, but you steadily ignore it. “If I don’t have romantic feelings for you in three months time, you’ll leave me be and you’ll drop this marriage thing?”
Shoto nods, and while his face still maintains neutrality, there is something solemn about the motion.
“You have my word,” he says, a glimmer flashing through his eye. “And as you know, I cannot lie.”
It’s rare for fae of any kind to propose a bargain that doesn’t suit them better in some way, so you find yourself reasonably shocked at the man’s words. You can’t find anything that would be a trick, can’t sniff out any possible loopholes. He has simply given you an out, a clearly marked exit from the situation you’ve found yourself in, and he’s presented it on a silver platter, It almost seems too good to be true, but in his defense… he hasn’t exactly been behaving in a way that is completely inappropriate. All he’s done is look good and call you ‘wife’.
“Okay,” you say, the word spilling out before you can lock it down. “You will have my answer by the end of Midsummer’s Eve. I agree to the terms of your bargain.”
Shoto smiles, and holds his hand out. His expression is kind, as always, but his smile… this one doesn’t reach his eyes. You ignore the way that observation makes your stomach sink, and take his hand into your own.
It’s like a spark of electricity, an instantaneous tingle that zips from the tips of your fingers and travels over your skin, up your arms. You don’t even realise you’ve gasped until you notice the look that Shoto is giving you, a mixture of amusement and fondness. It takes you a moment longer to realise that your hand is still holding his, and the deal has already been done.
You pull your arm away, the movement somewhat mechanical, but halt as you catch sight of something foreign on your skin. You’d offered your left hand to him, since that was the hand he had led with, and on that hand now lies the visual seal of your bargain. A delicate dance of white and scarlet winds around your ring finger, shifting and swirling over the back of your hand until it reaches your wrist, which it loops around once
Shoto’s eyes are trained on the mark, somewhat unfocused, as though he has become lost in thought.
“What a beautiful seal,” he murmurs to himself, before turning his attention absently to the one on his own hand.
While yours had been intricate and endearing like the curl and climb of ivy, his swirling lines are decorated with thorns and thistles. You’re confused at the sight – you would have thought that your marks would be the same, considering you’re equal parties in this bargain. Unless that isn’t the case…? You don’t really know enough about faerie law, you’ll have to go and do some research when you return home.
You do know, however, that Shoto frowns slightly upon seeing it, a look of poignant understanding flicking across his face.
He brings the hand to his chest palm resting over his heart, and turns his gaze to you. For a moment he simply looks, saying nothing, before a soft breath leaves him and he attempts a smile.
“I will let you get back, your friends are probably looking for you.” He turns, beginning to move towards the door.
“I’ll see you around, a mhuirnín.”
The sound of his receding footsteps mixes with the beats beyond the walls, and for a few moments you simply listen. When he reaches the door, words bubble in your throat.
“Shoto,” you call, before you can think better of it. You’re still in the same spot, flexing your hand like you expect to feel the mark branded painlessly on it every time you do. When he halts in the door way, head tilted slightly in your direction, you muster the will to continue.
“If, come Midsummer’s Eve, I find that I have feelings for you… what will happen, then?”
At your words, he turns his head so he can meet your gaze over his broad shoulder. The amused glint is back in his stormy hue, and a sly smile tugs his lips. You can feel your ears begin to burn in advance of his words.
“If, after three months time, you find yourself accepting of my feelings, the bond,and you come to me, wanting and willing... ” He hums, and the secretive curl of his lips is the last you see of his expression as he turns back.
“I suppose that’s something I can leave to your imagination, wife.”
He leaves before you can chase him out yourself.
— — —
Before he can even make it fully around the back of the building, Shoto’s gut seizes and his body convulses, hunching over. A wet cough rips from his throat and he retches, throat and nose burning from the acrid combination of bile and blood. He has a hand braced against the brick, nails catching against coarse, gritty clay as another round of spasms roil through his gut and leave him choking and sputtering. An explosive arc of dark, glistening maroon paints the building wall before him, stark in the moonlight.
As he leans, hunched over and braced heavily on the arm against the wall, he sincerely hopes there isn’t anyone who sees him in this moment of weakness. He is panting, attempting to catch his breath and banish that awful smell and taste from his senses. His eyes move of their own accord, boring into the ring of thorns that now gleam against his skin.
All of his life, he’d been told not to, had been warned of the consequences. He should have known better than to make a bargain he couldn’t keep.