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stardustdiaries · 4 years ago

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Frozen over - Dincember day7: Cold

☆ @dindjarindiaries ☆

Pairing: Madalorian x reader

Summary: The reader's body is intolerant to the cold and all sense of self-preservation is tossed out the window when the Crest crashes and Mando is out cold.

Warnings: Descriptions of the effects of extremely cold weather, soft!Mando, fluff aaaand I think that's it!

Word count: 2,553

A/N: I can't believe I actually wrote this- aH! I ♡shamefully♡ dropped writing a few years back, so I'm a bit rusty, but feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!

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After months of travelling with the beskar-cladded Mandalorian as a mechanic, there are many things about said armored man that you picked up on rather quickly. Like how his actions we’re cautious, calculated and precise, or how he seemed to be a tad bit more protective than usual whenever you were out on a supply-run as he was after a bounty.

You also noticed how quick he was to pick up on your own quirks and needs as well.

It all began on one of your first bounty hunts with him, finding yourselves in a slightly-colder-than-normal planet as you followed the beeping of the tracking fob that was clutched in Mando's gloved hand. It wasn’t until the job was done that he took notice of your shivering figure next to him- even when you were wearing layers upon layers of clothing. His heart then dropped at the sight of the bright shade of blue that painted your fingertips.

He had then ushered you back to the Crest and did everything in his power to warm you up, even going as far as wrapping his cape around your shoulders in hopes that your trembling body would soon come to a rest. That’s when he found out about your body’s intolerance to the cold. Mando would then make sure to stock up on gloves, scarves and, he won’t admit this out loud, but he also made sure to buy you a cape of your own simply because he absolutely adored how his looked on you. That, and he loved matching with you, but that’s his own little secret.

Fast forward a few months of the Crest breaking down, run-ins with bounty hunters, late-night talks and hints of flirting, and here you are, stumbling through the hull of the fallen Crest. How you ended up in this situation was hard for you to remember, but the memory of the distress in Mando's modulated voice was enough to make you scramble up the ladder to the cockpit where you last saw him.

Rushing into the cockpit, your breath caught itself in your throat at the sight of Mando’s slumped figure- completely unmoving. Immediately, you fell to your knees by his side, your bare hands reaching up to his shoulders to give him a soft shake. “Mando?” The concern lacing your words was hard to hide when he didn’t respond to your voice. “Dank farrik, Mando please stay with me. Please.” you begged, noticing the icy coating that began to spread over the surface of his armor. With a sigh and a grunt of effort, you straightened his limp figure on the pilot seat and pulled down the cloth around his neck just enough to press your fingers against his skin. Once making contact and feeling his pulse, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, but shoot, he was freezing.

You must have crashed on an ice planet.

Without much thinking, you tumbled down back into the hull and grabbed all of your blankets, scarves and capes after pulling on your gloves. Holding the bundle close to your chest, you sped to where the Child was put to rest on his little compartment. Upon seeing him, you ran through the same process of checking for a pulse and then proceeded to wrap him up with some of your blankets and scarves. Once you were done making sure the Child was safe from the bitter cold that seeped through the metal walls, you ran up to do the same with Mando. You finished wrapping the last of the bundle around his shoulders before your tried working the controls of the ship.

What happened? Zip, zero, nada.

The ship’s dead and considering that you had no clue what was wrong with it, you would have to do a full inspection as you waited for Mando to wake up.

You packed up your tools and quickly got to work, running checkups on the ship's inner systems and mechanisms, not being able to tell what was keeping the Crest from functioning the way it should. There seemed to be nothing you could do inside until you managed to fix the lights and you would need some of Mando’s help with that. Right now, all you could do was find out if something had gotten damaged on the outer side of the ship. Summoning all of your strength, you trudged through the deep blanket of white powder that surrounded, well- everything.

You have no idea where in the galaxy the Crest had crashed, but the snowfall was strong.

Quickly, you inspected the radiators, turbines and whatever could’ve been damaged before the ship even crashed.

And then you saw it. Dank farrik, this wasn’t good.

The left engine was royally messed up, looking as if it was mere seconds away from giving way right before the crash. It could take weeks to get it up to its usual functionality if you found the right parts for the full repair. However, you might just get it running long enough for you to fly the Crest to some nearby workshop- if there was even one on the planet.

After minutes of fumbling with your tools and hitting the wrong part for the hundredth time in a row, a string of curses flew past your lips, your breath being caught in the cold air before vanishing. To say you were cold was a complete and total understatement; you were sure you were mere seconds away from freezing to death. Your body shook violently as the frigid air pricked and attacked your skin mercilessly.

But you were stubborn- sometimes too stubborn for your own good.

With annoyance etched onto your features, you ripped your gloves off and tossed them to the side. After that, you were on autopilot, getting a better grip on your tools and doing the best you could even as your bones began to ache due to the weather around you.

Time apparently went by faster than you thought as the rapid sounds of footsteps clambering around the insides of the ship fell into your ears.

“Cyare!”

Your head snapped up, your nose stinging when you scrunched it in confusion. Shakily, you dropped your tools, wrapping your arms tightly around your torso as a sad attempt to warm yourself in any way possible. Maker, you’re pretty sure your fingers lost feeling a few minutes ago.

“Dank farrik- Cyare!”

You pushed yourself up to your knees with trembling arms, peering over the edge of the Crest and down to where the calls seemed to come from. There, you saw Mando, who frantically looked for you as he now held in his hands the bundle of capes and blankets you had previously draped over him.

“I-I'm up he-here, M-Mando!” you called, cursing your teeth for clattering so much. Gosh, your chest was tight.

At the sound of your voice, Mando whipped around, tilting his head up in your direction.

Maker, his heart dropped at the sight of you. Your nose, and fingers were a bright shade of blue and your hair was greatly dusted and soaked with the snow that got caught in it. Your skin was flushed, drained of its usual color. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that you were frozen solid.

“Cyar’ika,” he sighed, his modulator doing nothing to mask the concern that heavily dripped from his words. “Why would you- why would you leave without any protection?” His arms stretched out to show the bundle you had left him with for emphasis.

You forced a lazy smile, but you’re sure it came out more like a grimace. “I di-didn’t leave c-complet-tely unprotect-ted.” You started, “M-my gloves a-are, um,” you looked around, trying to find your discarded gloves. “s-somewhere around h-here.” At that, you clenched and unclenched your fists, trying to get some feeling back to your fingers.

Mando shook his head, tilting his helmet sympathetically at you. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a step closer to the ship, his visor not looking away from your shivering figure. “Can you…are you able to climb down?”

Your heart warmed at his concern and you managed to give him a nod through all of your shivering. Slowly, you tried climbing onto your feet, only to trip back down and land on your frozen rear. With a weak grunt falling past your lips, you looked down at your feet, sighing in realization.

“Cyar'ika?”

“I, u-um, I ca-can't feel my f-feet.”

Mando cursed under his breath, with words travelling through the modulator as a simple crackle that’s whisked away by the cold winds. His voice is strained, almost as if he’s struggling to get the words out when he parts his lips. “Do you trust me?”

Almost instantly, a laugh erupted from your pale lips, the sound so soft and warm that he swore it could melt this entire planet in seconds. His heart fluttered as you looked at him with gleaming eyes, even if he could tell you were struggling against the cold to keep them open. “W-what kind o-of question is th-that?” You breathed shallowly; your lungs tired after your burst of laughter. “Of co-course I do.”

Was that what he wanted to hear? Yes. But…something about hearing those words tumble out of your mouth pulled heavily at his heartstrings. He smiled under the helmet, fully knowing that you weren’t able to see it.

Dropping your capes and blankets somewhere inside the ship, he walked back out and stretched out his arms to you. You looked at him with wide eyes, shaking your head rapidly.

“I thought you said you trusted me?” he tilted his head at you, arms still stretched out.

“I-I do, I j-just—”

Mando chuckled softly, “I’ll catch you,” he spoke up, watching how your freezing figure curled up into itself. “I won’t let you fall, cyar'ika.”

“P-promise?”

“Promise.”

Even with the tightness and stiffness of the air around you, your muscles somehow managed to relax and loosen up at the sound of his voice.

Or maybe it was how lightheaded you were starting to feel?

You crawled to the edge of the Crest, taking one last look down at Mando before squeezing your eyes shut.

Call it a trust fall of sorts.

With one final breath, you pushed yourself off the top of Crest and let yourself fall.

What were you expecting? Probably to gently fall into his arms in the most romantic way ever. But the truth? Let’s say that you somehow ended up lying on his beskar-platted chest as his back was pressed to the powdery ground.

Maybe it was the shock or your lack of feeling, but you hadn’t noticed how his arms were tightly wrapped around you. His chest lifted you up and dropped you softly as he breathed and you couldn’t help but laugh at what just happened.

“H-how graceful of u-us,” you breathed, a smile curling the corners of your mouth. “Too b-bad we couldn’t re-record it.”

Once Mando noticed how your body relaxed on top of him, he spoke up softly. “Cyar'ika, don’t close your eyes,” he pushed himself up with one arm and held you close to his chest with his other tightly wrapped around you. “Stay with me a little longer, okay?”

“Y-you're warmer t-than I’d thought yo-you'd be.” You smiled lazily, visibly struggling to keep your eyes opened and focused on his visor.

Carrying you bridal-style into the Crest, he gently placed you on the ground before taking off his gloves and cupping your face in his hands. He sucked in a sharp breath, frowning under the helmet. “You’re freezing.”

You snickered under your breath, letting your head rest against the metal walls of the hull as your eyes fluttered a few times.

“Hey, hey, stay awake, cyar'ika. I need to warm you up before you go under, okay?” Modulator and all, you could still hear the concern that laced his words tightly. “Can you stay awake for me?”

You hummed softly, the sound barely loud enough to reach Mando’s ears. Immediately, Mando ran off to the makeshift kitchenette that he somehow managed to fit into the ship. He grabbed a clean bucket from a corner and filled it with water hot enough to warm you up.

When he came back, he gently picked you up before placing you on top of a crate, lifting your feet just enough to dip them into the bucket. He then proceeded to grab a new pair of gloves from your compartment and slip them onto your hands. As he worked, he could see your body loosen up from the shivering slightly.

Draping your blankets over your shoulders, he dared release the question that dangled from the tip of his tongue.

“Why did you do it?”

“Why d-did I do what?”

He sighed, lowering himself onto his knees to be at eye level with you. There, he took in your appearance- flushed skin, blue nose, pale lips. You knew conditions like these could harm you more than they should- more than they would harm him.

“Why did you go out without your layers, cyar’ika? Why did you… why did you give them to me?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Your head dropped slightly before you looked back up at him. “Your armor,” you breathed.

Mando tilted his head, urging you to continue.

“It was frosted over a-and you were out cold.” You nodded at him, making him look down at the frost that had once again began to spread over the surface of his armor. “I then gave the child my other scarves and blankets, to make sure he was okay. I needed to keep you warm if I wanted to make sure you’d wake up.”

Mando’s heart plummeted to his stomach. Your body wasn’t capable of tolerating the cold like most could and you were still concerned about keeping him and the Child warm. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of someone being so recklessly selfless.

His hands came up to your face, gently holding you so you could look at him. Without even thinking, you leaned into the warmth of his touch, sending his heart into a frenzy.

“Promise me that if this ever happens again, you’ll make sure to take care of yourself too. I can’t have you risking yourself like this for me.”

You pouted childishly, making his eyes soften as he continued to focus on you.

“Mando, I-"

“Promise me that, please, cyar’ika.” He begged, gently caressing your cheeks as he spoke.

Humming at his touch, you offered him a reassuring smile as you nodded softly.

That was enough for him.

As night creeped its way onto the sky, covering the land like a thick blanket, Mando has stripped himself of his armor- except for his helmet- and now held you in his arms. The warmth of his touch spreading through your body nurtured you back to health. Your eyes flutter a few times as he pulls you closer to his body, your heart swelling at the gentle gesture.

“Sleep, cyar’ika,” his rasp is gentle, almost as if he were afraid of startling you. He pulled your blankets tighter around you, smiling at how the corners of your lips curled up. “it’s my turn to keep you warm now.”

#the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu #grogu djarin #this is the way #disneyplus #starwars #dincember #mando #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years ago

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Trust Me

Henry Cavill x reader

Summary: You’ve gone back to the same manipulate ex enough times that you’ve lost count, but Henry decides he won’t let you do it again.

Words: 1673

Notes/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, sexual tension (sort of), mention of manipulative relationships (but doesn’t go into detail), cursing.

Sacrificing yourself for someone who does not deserve it, throwing yourself on a wooden spike for them, despite how it may sound, is the easiest thing in the world, and when you fail to see the damage it inflicts because your denial is just that strong, you can die one hundred times over and not even notice.

But your denial has gradually weakened. You have started to notice that maybe you’ve killed yourself too many times for someone who does not deserve your love. Though newfound awareness does not erase the poor choices or the pain, and certainly not the fear of dragging that pain with you wherever you go.

“Sweetheart,” Henry says as he kneels in front of where you’re sitting on the couch, both of your hands gripped tightly in his. “You’ve got to stop.”

You can see him. You can see his worried lips, and his concerned, blue gaze, and his dark eyebrows pinched at the middle, and yet, you’re not positive he is with you. He is touching you and still, you’re praying he’s not a hallucination, because he feels very real and you like it just a little too much. You’ve always liked it just a little too much.

But then you remember the way Henry’s smile slipped the second you opened the door, and it provides sudden reassurance that he is really, solidly in front of you. As he had scanned your body up and down, his own not even past the threshold yet, the expression on his face couldn’t seem to decide between devastation or absolute outrage, and you hadn’t even said a word. That was all you needed to understand that you look as terrible as you feel. Not because of the man you happily gave up, but because of the aching anxiety he left lingering around you long after he was gone. Now, here you are, here Henry is, and you don’t want to dump those damaged feelings on him when he is the last to deserve it.

He touches your cheek, and the sensation of rough fingertips grazing along your skin tugs at the strands of your attention.

“All he ever does is break you, but you can’t keep breaking, Love. I can’t stand it any longer. I won’t let you go back to him ever again.”

You want to tell him not to worry, that you won’t go back, that you’ve finally learned from your mistakes, but you figure it changes nothing. Crumbled, broken, ripped apart one time or a hundred, it makes no difference. No matter how many times you fix yourself, you’ll never be enough. Even if repaired, a thing that has been shattered to bits retains little of its original value, does it not?

“You’re worth so much, and you deserve better than him. You deserve to be loved and taken care of.”

Holding your tongue is not easy. You itch to disagree, but it will only serve to intensify his argument. He’s said it all before, and when he saw you and realized that while he’d been away, you spent those months being manipulated by your ex for the umpteenth time, you were well prepared for him to say it again.

“Fuck,” Henry says. “I wish you’d just let me do it.”

Your eyes focus a little harder on his and you swallow.

“You know how much I want to,” He continues as he tucks a strand of messy hair behind your ear. “You’re not going to drag me down like you think you will, Sweetheart. I know that’s what keeps you from saying yes, but I promise you, the worst you could do is make me deliriously happy.”

“You don’t know that,” You finally speak, your voice hoarse as it passes through your dry, cracked lips.

Something like relief flashes in Henry’s eyes at your break in silence. “Yes, I do,” He says determinedly. “And I won’t drag you down, either. More than that, I won’t hurt you.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Have I ever hurt you?” He asks.

You don’t even have to think on it. He hadn’t. Not in all the years of your friendship had he done anything other than brighten your mood, but good people do painful things every day. If others have to suffer at the hands of those they love most, what hope might you both have of escaping the same fate if things evolved past platonic.

Your thoughts begin drifting to a darker place, but they are sharply yanked back to the surface when Henry leans up and softly presses his lips to your own. You still completely as a large hand shifts to the back of your neck and holds you close. And damn it, this is exactly what you were trying to avoid. You’ve always known that if he ever kissed you, that would be it. Game over. Now he has, and the longer your lips remain weaved with his, the harder it becomes to remember the reasons why you’ve never given yourself to him before. He has always wanted you; He made that abundantly clear. You are the one who has held back.

He pulls away before you begin to react to his kiss, then gives you one last peck and meets your eyes as they slowly open.

“I’m sorry,” He says, and your eyebrows rise slightly before settling back into neutrality. “I shouldn’t have—that wasn’t fair of me.”

Your gaze follows his body as he moves to sit beside you on the couch. He runs a hand through his hair before he covers his face with them both, braces his elbows on his knees, and groans into the cave of his palms.

You want to get closer to him, but he’s speaking again, and it makes you pause. “Oh, God, that was so selfish,” He says, more to himself than to you. “You’re going through shit, and I just--

He raises his head to look at you when your touch reaches his bicep, but then you push him down against the back of the couch and swing a leg over his thighs to straddle him.

He looks hesitant; his eyes wide, seemingly unconvinced your body is on top of his despite the friction of your hips or the way you cautiously trace the curve of his neck with your nails. His hands rise and his fingers twitch, and you know he wants to touch you, but won’t until you clearly show him that you want it too. So when you lean down and kiss him, he wastes no time firmly encasing you in his arms, moaning so deep you feel the vibration against your breasts.

Henry is different. His kisses follow your lead even when it’s obvious he wants to dominate you, make you his completely. His touch shows a respect you’ve never had the luxury of experiencing. There’s no room for anything between you. You’re connected; holding and feeling and seeing one another without restraint, with chests cracked open and hearts bare.

But then, what are hearts other than big, red, pumping targets practically calling for a sharp dagger to pierce their center. A tear slips down your cheek and you quickly separate your lips to wipe it away before Henry can see, but he beats you to it. His thumb slides along your cheekbone, smoothing the salty liquid into your skin.

“I…Henry, I don’t want to lose you,” You near whisper, sniffling. “If we hurt each other—"

“Sweetheart.” Henry trails an affectionate hand over your shoulder and down your arm, settling finally on your thigh. His fingers squeeze your flesh. “We won’t.”

You seal your eyelids and more tears fall that Henry gets rid of.

“You think us together would be a risk, but it’s not. It’s a sure thing, Love. As long as you want me, I will forever want you, and nothing can change that. You could scream at me until your lungs collapse, and I would still be in love with you.”

“I would never scream at you,” You mumble, bypassing his confession of love and trying your best to ignore the way every flowing, beating, humming part of your body freezes entirely.

“No,” He chuckles. “You wouldn’t. You would never yell or slap at me or say anything to break my heart. You don’t have a cruel bone in your beautiful body, so why do you assume we will be destructive to one another?” Henry’s thumb and index finger grip your chin and lift until your eyes can only meet his. “I am so in love with you, Y/N.”

“You keep saying that,” You mutter.

“Because it’s the truth.” He smiles. “God damn, is it the truth. You have no idea.”

You shift your hips and Henry lightly groans, his arm wrapping around you tighter. You blush when you realize what you’ve done.

With a smile, he pecks your lips to chase away the shy, guilty look on your face. “Just try this with me,” He says and gives you another quick kiss. “Trust me. I’ll take care of you. Be with me and I will prove it to you. I’ll prove how much I love you.”

You take in a shaky breath as he puts his palms to your cheeks and tilts your head until your foreheads meet. Your heart beats hard. Hard enough that you’re surprised each thump isn’t visibly pushing the left side of your chest outward. Your body has never worked this hard to prove a point to your brain. It tells you, you want this and it won’t let you convince yourself otherwise.

Pulling back, you smile down at him and run a finger over his bottom lip. “I trust you,” You say.

“So…”

“So…let’s try.”

tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hiddles-rose @mywinterwolf @picapicapicassobaby @genius2050 @lokilvrr @sunshine-seven @missjayi @agniavateira @tumblnewby @forthebrokenheartedthings @summersong69 @starlite13 @mstgsmy @purplelove75 @defffcc @the-soot-sprite

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reidandweep · 4 years ago

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No Better Outcome

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- I had a request for a Spencer imagine where the reader was held at gun point by the unsub and Spencer had to talk them down. I said it would be finished last week and posted, but to be honest, I hated how it was so I re-wrote the whole thing. I ca’t remember who requested it either.

Word Count- 2336 words

Warnings- Angst, Fluff, mentions of guns and murder.

“What do we know about this guy?”

Y/N glanced at Reid as she continued to drive to their destination. The team had been called to Baltimore on a case the morning before. Four couples had been found brutally murdered in their homes; located across the city. The team had quickly learnt that all the couples were newly engaged and had very healthy, happy relationships.

“Landon Reeves, aged 24. Garcia looked into each of the couples lives and found that Landon works at the local auto repair shop. Each of the males have visited the shop in the past three months, all complaining about the same problem with their cars; faulty breaks. Landon was the one that handled all the bookings.”

Y/N nodded her head as Reid spoke, taking in the information.

“So, we’ve got a 24-year-old, Caucasian, male who has fixed all four male victims’ vehicles in the last 90 days, which they all coincidentally needed the same job doing. Sounds like to me; Landon might have had his eye on them before they entered the shop. There’s too much coincidence between the couples for him not to have.”

Pulling up to a red light, Y/N turned her head to look at Spencer.

“The murders looked disorganised but were actually very meticulous. All the women were mutilated in the bathroom, but their bodies were tucked into the beds. They were covered and their arms crossed; showing signs of remorse. But the male victims were splayed and left out for all to be seen. He hid the women’s modesty and treated the men like animals.”

Honking drew Y/N from her thought process. Swivelling her body to face the wheel once more, she continued to drive.

Spencer comprehended Y/N’s words.

“Maybe he lost a fiancée or girlfriend? Left him for someone else or even cheated.”

Spencer shook his head.

“Usually, if an unsub targets woman that remind him of an unfaithful partner, the attack towards them would be messy, violent, and have shown forms of sexual assault. This hasn’t occurred here. The women were shot clean through the heart. No signs of sexual assault or torture. Garcia already looked into any past relationships of Landon’s. No spousal deaths or even any signs of a partner from his social media. Ever.”

Y/N pulled up on the curb outside their desired location. They had already checked to see if Landon was at work before they travelled to his home. Speaking to his co-workers at the garage, they were more than sure he was their unsub.

“Well, let’s go do our job Dr Reid. All we can do is question for now.”

Spencer chuckled as Y/N opened the SUV door, sliding out and adjusting her appearance; making sure her gun was secure in her holster. Shaking his head, Spencer stepped out and walked to her side.

Walking side by side as they walked up the steps of the house, the pair stopped at the door; Y/N stepped forward and knocked on the wood.

They waited for any sign of an answer. Spencer looked through the window to see a figure walking towards the door.

The pair stood straight as Landon opened the door.

“Landon Reeves?”

“Speaking?”

Y/N glanced at Spencer as he spoke.

“I’m Dr Spencer Reid and this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. Were from the FBI. We just wanted to ask you some questions.

Landon begun to shift uncomfortably in his stance.

“About what?”

Y/N stepped slightly as she spoke, noticing the increased edge of his tone of voice.

“We just want to ask about a few of your customers. Of course, only if it isn’t a waste of your time.”

Landon stood silently for a while before he allowed them into the house.

Insisting Y/N to go first Spencer kept his eye on Landon, just in case he tried to run for it as they walked inside. He didn’t.

Shutting the door behind Spencer, Landon ushered them into the living room; offering them to take a seat on his sofa.

He gave of waves of discomfort. Fidgeting with his hands, biting his lip, and avoiding eye contact. He was guilty of something. But murder? Y/N wasn’t how sure. Something would have had to make him snap.

Y/N allowed Spencer to take the lead in questioning as she discreetly surveyed the room.

“Mr Reeves, on a weekly basis, how many customers do you have come into the workshop?”

Landon shrugged his shoulders.

“It depends. Some weeks are better than others.”

Spencer nodded his head.

“On average, according to the week, how many cars do you repair which the fault concerns the brakes?”

Landon shuffled in his chair as he uncrossed and re-crossed his arms.

“Only about one or two. We mostly get broken taillight or problem with the exhaust.”

Y/N’s eyes caught the pictures on the fireplace as she pretended to write down Landon’s answers. She knew Spencer would remember what he said word for word, so she had no worry but to focus on surveying the area for any information that could help.

Above the mantel piece sat an array of pictures showing Landon with multiple different people. Pulling out her phone, Y/N texted Garcia requesting details on Landon’s family. Not more than two minutes later, she got a reply.

From the information Garcia found, it seemed Landon had a good family. No problems concerning abuse, abandonment, gambling, nothing. But the description of the family didn’t coincide with two pictures. Landon and his family were all brunette. But he had two pictures on the mantle of him and a young blonde woman; who looked eerily like the victims.

“What does me fixing a few brakes and taillights have to do with the FBI?”

Y/N looked up at Landon at the sound of his agitated question.

Spencer went to answer his question, but before he could, Y/N interrupted the young genius.

“How long have you and your girlfriend been together? You’re a very cute couple.”

Landon looked in the direction that Y/N was pointing. His body became tense for a short moment; his hands clenching in fists. Spencer noticed the change in his demeanour.

“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just best friends.”

Y/N nodded her head.

“What’s her name?”

Landon licked his lips as his nerves spiked.

“Celeste.”

“Well, I think you and Celeste would make a cute couple. You should ask her out?”

Y/N walked to stand slightly closer to Landon to gage his reaction.

Landon continued to tense up as Y/N carried on talking and walking closer.

“Or is she already taken? Because she looks an awful lot like three women who have been murdered in the following months. All whom were customers of yours.”

Spencer went to step forward.

“Y/N-“

“Does she not call you back anymore Landon? Cancels your plans? Or doesn’t even bother to make them herself?”

“Shut up.”

Y/N took another step closer.

“Is it because she doesn’t love you back?”

Before another step could be taken, Landon suddenly pulled a gun out from the cushion of his sofa, pointing it towards Y/N.

Spencer quickly drew his gun, aiming it at Landon. He could tell by the look on Y/N’s face that she knew he had a gun the whole time.

“Landon put the gun down.”

Through his earpiece, her heard Hotch’s voice.

“Reid, we’re on our way. Y/N’s mobile is called through to Garcia. We can hear everything, so stay calm.”

Spencer kept his focus on Landon in front of him.

“Landon put the gun down and we can talk, okay? She didn’t mean what she said.”

“Yes, she did!”

Y/N flinched at the sudden raised voice from the unsub. She knew the risk when she began to ask him questions. But there had been lives lost, and she did not want to walk away from this suspect, and another life be taken. She would risk herself always. Spencer knew this and he hated that she would always risk herself to save everyone else.

Spencer glanced at Y/N as he saw her flinch. Looking back at Landon, he saw the boys hand shaking. Keeping his own arm locked and in position, Spencer tried to defuse the situation.

“I know how it feel. To be love someone for so long and so deeply that it rips you apart to know they don’t feel the same way back.”

Landon looked away from Y/N and towards Spencer; tears of frustration falling down his face.

“But just because they don’t love you back the same way doesn’t mean they don’t care.”

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from Spencer as he spoke.

Landon shook his head, the gun shaking in his grasp, as he repositions it in his sweaty grip.

“She was the best thing about this place. Everyone said we were meant to be together. Everyone! But she left with him. Moved to a whole different fucking state after knowing him for 2 months. We’ve known each other for 14 years. I’ve loved her for 14 years and she left me for someone she’s known for 2 months!”

Reid licked his lips, preparing himself for what he was about to say. He knew this could change things between him and Y/N, but he couldn’t risk the thought of her getting hurt. Or even worse, dying.

“I was 25 when I met her. I’ve been in love with her for over ten years. Watching her with other men, listening to her date stories, being there to help mend her broken heart, and so much more. We’ve been side by side nearly every day. Spending holidays together and birthdays, even when we didn’t need to. I thought for a while she liked me back. But I couldn’t put her through all the issues and problems that I come with.”

Y/N looked at Spencer in disbelief.

“I knew I loved her approximately four months after I had known her. I accepted she didn’t love me back after two years of hoping that she did.”

Spencer to a cautious step towards Landon; watching as the boy’s grip on the gun loosened as he recognised himself in Spencer’s story.

“But I would rather have her in my life every day, in any other way, than to not have her there at all. Because I would miss having someone to watch Doctor Who with when we both can’t sleep. I would miss the lunch trips to the food trucks when work was quiet. I would miss the good morning texts and goodnight messages. I would miss so much that I get in a friendship, that I wouldn’t in strangers of unreciprocated feelings.”

Spencer took another step forward.

“You choose, Landon. But, if you drop your weapon, and let us take you in, Celeste will still see you as her best friend; who she loves dearly.”

Landon looked at Spencer with tears streaming down his cheeks; his lower lip wobbling. Slowly, he lowered his gun, letting Spencer take it from his hands.

Passing the gun behind him, Spencer focused on cuffing Landon as Y/N quietly stepped forward and grabbed the gun.

Just as he clicked the cuffs shut, the rest of the team walked through the door.

Hotch and Luke moved to take Landon from Spencer, as JJ and Tara moved to consult Y/N. Checking her over for any injuries, the women asked if she was okay. Y/N reassured the pair, but she could not waver her stare from Spencer as he watched Landon be escorted out and into the police vehicle.

Sensing the looming conversation, the team all walked outside, leaving Y/N and Spencer in the house alone.

Silence befell upon them.

Y/N walked towards Spencer, placing a hand on his shoulder as she spoke.

“Spencer I”

Spencer swivelled around in her grip.

Before Y/N could say anymore, Spencer pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. Quickly interlocking her arms around his neck, the pair basked in each other’s presence. Spencer was the first to pull apart.

“Never put yourself in a situation like that again. You realised he had a weapon and still antagonised him. What would you have done if he had fired? What do you think I would…”

Before Spencer could finish berating Y/N, she grabbed his face between her hands and pulled his lips against her own. Moving her hands to tangle into his hair, Y/N pushed her body flush against Spencer, gasping as his hands instantly moved to grip her hips. Pulling her impossibly closer, Spencer’s mouth moved against Y/N’s feverishly.

The pair slowly pulled apart as they both filled their lungs back with air. Spencer couldn’t help but blush under Y/N’s gaze.

Y/N giggled at the rising pink in his cheeks. Placing a quick peck on his lips, Y/N looked Spencer in the eyes.

“I love you Spence. I have for a really long time. That’s why those other guys never worked out because I was trying to get over you, and I couldn’t.”

Spencer couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss her again.

Once again pulling apart, Spencer rested his head against her own, and allowed for the smile to take over his face.

“I love you too. But please stop putting your life in danger.”

Y/N leaned back and laughed at Spencer’s words.

Glancing out the window, she could see the team almost ready to leave. Y/N pulled herself from Spencer’s embrace.

“Unfortunately, with the job we have, that’s one promise I can’t make.”

Spencer rolled his eyes with a smirk.

Y/N placed her hand in Spencer’s, interlocking the digits.

“Come on, Dr Reid. We got a case to officially close.”

The pair walked out the house hand in hand, as they walked towards their team. Giving Spencer’s hand a squeeze, she let his hand go and she continued to speak to Hotch and Luke, about the details of what occurred.

Spencer stood by her side, listening to her words and interjected when needed. While it wasn’t the exact outcome they expected the case to end with, it sure could not have ended any better.

A/N- I hope you enjoy. I have a few ideas that I’m going to write. One in particular is going to be a more personal one so stay tuned.

Taglist- @danielleslegacy

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagines

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izzabeean · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 18 : Awakening

SUMMARY

There's a lot to unpack.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,446

content : profanity

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : a/n: I'm sorry this took too long, I've been needing a mental health break with how busy life has become. This chapter is a bit rushed just because I wanted to post it before next week since I've been MIA for so long.

masterlist

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Slowly turning the key, your head starts to spin as you push the front door open to an empty apartment and a mixture of emotions surge through you. Relief that the repairs for your apartment are finally complete and you can move back to the comfort of your own home. Yet sadness swells in your chest at the realization you’ll be alone.

It’s weird. The natural response would be to get out of Oikawa’s apartment as soon as possible, sick of his antics and constant harassment. But for some incoherent reason, a part of you feels hesitant.

This heavy sensation in your chest drags you down as you walk into your apartment -- it seems so much more burdensome than when you left. Everything still feels fresh.

An agonizing pain mixed with confusion emanates off the walls flashing you back to the night Ushijima ending things. Your anxiety grows stronger as you picture his piercing hazel eyes glowering down at you after asking for you back. It's seemingly getting more and more difficult to make a decision as each moment passes and you're feeling inexplicably hopeless. It's a terrible idea to get back together with him -- just remembering that night makes you sick. We need to talk still haunts you accompanied with his unbothered, stoic expression... Your heart starts to race trying to make sense of what you’re feeling.

Why is everything suddenly so difficult?

You clench your fists so tightly your knuckles turn white. Why does he even want you back? This isn’t something that he should take so lightly, he hurt you. Though you strongly feel anger festering within, a voice keeps whispering in your ear to take him back. You can’t tell if it’s what you truly want or it’s just the fear of disappointing your parents even more.

“How’s it looking?”

Your manic thoughts are pushed away with Oikawa as he walks further into the apartment to take a look around.

The flood -- you’d forgotten about that morning until this moment. Your heart starts beating faster as the memory rushes to the forefront, not just from the panic and frustration of waking up to a submerged apartment, but to the moment of the warmth under the covers with Oikawa’s firm body pressed up behind you. Had Oikawa been holding back the entire night you spent together? Of course, you didn’t know how long he’s had feelings for you, so surely if he did at the time, it must have been absolutely tempting to make a move on you. But why didn’t he? Truthfully, if the situation was switched then you would’ve taken the opportunity to…

“Not bad,” you answer, trying to force an honest smile, but Oikawa sees right through you.

“Why do you do that?” Oikawa says, his voice is tight on the cusp of irritation.

“Do what?” you respond quickly, hoping that he will just let this one go. But he doesn’t.

“Force yourself to smile like that,” he grunts. “You’re not good at hiding when you’re upset.”

“I’m not--”

“Bullshit,” he retorts with a harsh tone.

You bite your tongue, even more conflicted on what to say.

Oikawa sees that as he analyzes you, he knows it’s not easy for you to talk to him about stuff. “Is something on your mind?” he asks softly, drawing his frustration back.

It’s hard to process, you’ve felt this heavy feeling for so long, you thought it was normal. The only time you’ve felt any reassurance is in Oikawa’s presence, yet for some reason, today the aching is much more prominent. Everything feels so nerve wracking. You know he likes you and yet, it makes your heart throb.

“My parents,” you start with your voice a little shaky. “They think they know what’s best for me...”

“For the internship?”

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, eyes fixed on the ground. They also think they know it’s best for you to be with Ushijima, but you couldn’t tell Oikawa that. “Everything’s all set up and it could make me successful but…”

You turn away from him so your face is out of his view. The silence stretches between you for a moment. You feel oddly vulnerable, like the slightest touch will shatter you into pieces. If only it was easier to explain the constant pressure you receive from them, you might've tried to laugh about it upon telling him, just to make things a bit lighter. But, it wasn’t something you were ready to dig into.

“Then what do you want?” Oikawa asks, breaking the quietness.

The age old question that’s been going through your head this entire time. Truthfully, some answers seem so vivid now. You don’t want that internship… It’s not something that will excite you in any form. You want to work to achieve something and this feels like it’s just being handed to you because of your parents. There’s no drive for it.

But as for Ushijima, well...

“I don’t know,” you utter, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I ever will.”

“You’ll figure it out, I know you will,” Oikawa hums, before walking up to ruffle your hair.

Even as he pulls his hand away, his touch is still lingering, forcing you to catch your breath at the sudden surprise. His words are warm and caring as if he truly believes everything will fall into place. You want to believe him. Even the warmth in his eyes almost sways your skepticism, you can feel affection in them, but you can’t seem to grasp onto the hope he has. At this point you’re too stunned to even say a word as you allow your emotions to control you.

“When are you moving back in?” he asks, bringing you back to reality.

“Probably in the next couple days,” you breathe then pause staring at him for a bit while feeling your entire face burn up. An undeniable tension floats in the air and you're struggling to understand if it’s just your mind racing or it’s actually there. The way he manages to get your heart racing out of nowhere, the look he gives you when his chocolate eyes gaze at you, makes you want to melt… “Can you help?”

“Of course.”

------

Now that Iwaizumi is gone, it’s only standard for you to sleep in the guest bedroom. You’re not sure why a room down the hallway was more uncomfortable, but here you were tossing and turning unable to fall asleep. Of course you have other causes to your insomnia, like the pressure of deciding whether or not you should move forward with the internship and whether or not you should get back together with Ushijima. But at the very moment, your head can’t seem to wrap around the idea that Oikawa is just down the hall.

You’ve been living with him for awhile and now you decide to be nervous about it, you think.

Tucking your head under the covers, you take a deep breath inhaling the soft scents of softener and linen, a deep contrast to the sweet scent of citrus mixed with a tinge of oak in Oikawa’s room -- which you’d noticed shortly after is the essence of Oikawa. You clench your jaw, y our brain is all messed up from everything going on. Not to mention it's strange, the way Oikawa’s been so generous lately -- sweet without being boastful or bothersome, completely unlike himself. You’re not sure what you were expecting after your “fight”, but it probably wasn’t this.

You won't be sleeping anytime soon, so you get up and grab your coat, hoping an evening walk will put your mind at ease.

The night is dark and calm as you walk down the street, sidewalk lit by a streetlamp every few steps. Though quiet, your thoughts are louder than ever, pounding at your head hounding you to make a decision. As the cool air picks up and nips at your face, you quickly shove your hands in your pockets full of tissues and a cartridge. Pulling it out, you’re reminded of the evening you first bought the pack of smokes, how your agony ripped you apart to the point you had to turn to a bad habit. The recollection of relief pulsing through your body after inhaling the rich smoke tempted you as you open the pack and take out a stale cigarette that’s a bit crumpled.

The emptiness sets in and your eyes begin to gloss over as you think of what you should do next. For a moment the stress of your future can temporarily disappear with one breath, but how disappointed would Oikawa be if you did so.

That evening, when he called you in the midst of your smoke, he didn’t even know what had happened, but he was still there in a way. His voice echoes your head as he slurs that he hopes Ushijima makes you happy… It makes you hot and flustered. Oikawa always just wants what is best for you. Even if it didn’t benefit him…

You crush the cigarette into your palm and with that a shiver went down your spine. The heavy feeling in your chest seemed to lift itself a little and you almost thought you were standing a bit taller.

------

Fiddling with your pen, you look up once again at the time; class is almost over. Oikawa sits beside you, seemingly locked in on the professor's lecture. It feels unfamiliar to see him taking notes, attentively listening -- his concentration is normally as lacking as yours. Today your attention span is the worst it’s ever been trying to hone in on the dull monotone voice that booms across the class.

Then an idea sparks.

Quickly you try to grab the pen that Oikawa is writing with, but his reflexes are too swift for you as he jerks it away from your reach. A loud obnoxious screech from your chair lurching forward interrupts your professor in the middle of his lesson.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” the professor asks, while everyone’s eyes turn to you.

It’s awkward as you scoff under your breath, but sit up and readjust your seat.

“Y--yes, everything is good,” you say before having the professor return back to his stale lecture.

You let out a sigh while your face gets all flushed. The taste of desperation coats your mouth and it’s so overwhelming that you had to go to uncomfortable lengths just to feel the slightest bit of normalcy between the two of you. There’s just something about the way his irritation spikes through his tight-lipped smile and balling of fists while his eyes glare at you. You missed it.

Suddenly, a quiet snicker sounds beside you. In the corner of your eye, you can see a softness in Oikawa’s appearance and he's slightly smirking. You try not to make it obvious that you notice, but it makes your heart melt a little.

The remainder of the lesson, you continue to replay the way Oikawa’s lips almost turned up to a smile. You wish you got more of a reaction out of him, but it was enough to reassure things. When the professor gives his final dismissal, Oikawa pops up to pack up his belongings. There’s this longing of wishing you could sit beside him longer as you slowly collect your things.

“Ushiwaka is here,” Oikawa says, gesturing to the doorway.

You glance at the doorway noticing a familiar figure poking his head in. His eyes survey the classroom and before meeting yours, you quickly dart them away.

“Are you kidding?” you say under your breath, quickly zipping up your bag, feeling a flash of irritation course through your veins. “I’ll be right back.”

Oikawa raises his brow as he watches you speed towards Ushijima. He knew something like this was going to happen. It was only a matter of time.

But you weren’t pleased with Ushijima’s appearance.

"What are you doing?” you fume, you were quite pissed off as you pout your lips in petulant annoyance.

“I wanted to walk you to your next class,” Ushijima admits so nonchalantly it grinds your teeth.

"N--no," you reply, losing your focus to Oikawa walking by. “No, I don’t need--”

“I need to make up for the time we’ve lost together,” Ushijima adds, eyes locked on to yours that are wandering past him looking at Oikawa who’s getting further and further away.

"I-- I can’t. Please just… I need more space,” you sputter before swallowing hard your body leading to Oikawa’s direction.

"Take whatever time you need, I'll be waiting,” is what you think you heard from him as you catch up to Oikawa, but you don’t really care because your heart feels like everything you did in the moment was unlawful. You didn’t want Oikawa to get the wrong idea, and you feel like he might have, it makes you sick. Just when things started to repair with him, Ushijima just had to sweep in.

“What did he want?” Oikawa asks, his gaze ahead. “Did you finally accept his proposal?”

“What? No," you answer, trying to catch your breath.

“You’re really taking your time with this aren’t you,” he mumbles. “You better figure it out quick, he’s not going to wait for you forever.”

“He can wait,” you say to which Oikawa glances at you.

You get to a fork in the hallway that branches off to your next class or leads to outside the building. Oikawa raises his hand to bid farewell, but you stop planting your feet and take a deep breath.

“Toru.”

He stops and looks over at you…

“Can you come with me…. to my parents?” you breathe. “I don’t want to do the internship. I just don’t want to go alone to tell them.”

Hesitant of his answer, you wait for his response.

“I’d be happy to.”

----

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you whine, abruptly stopping on the sidewalk in front of your parents house. The sun hides behind the dark clouds, almost seeming like a sigh that you shouldn’t move forward with your plan, but gently touches your back.

“It will be alright,” Oikawa says softly as you try to push away the heat of his touch.

You’re sure that because Oikawa is here with you, you can go through with it. Even if you’re on the verge of retreating, it’s in fact, much more relieving to have him support you on the sidelines.

Every ounce of you pushes your body forward towards the front door. The ominous illusion of a stone cold castle looms over you as you press your finger to the doorbell. The anxiety starts to build up as you look back to Oikawa. He gives you a smile and your face is hot, worried about what's to come from this conversation.

The door unlatches and slowly opens.

“Oh, hello,” your mom says, eyes wide yet narrow glaring down at you. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hi,” you respond shyly. You wanted to grab Oikawa’s body to shield you from your mom’s unpleasant aura, but of course you plant your feet. “This is Toru Oikawa.”

Looking back at him to check in and see if he too is incapacitated from her energy. But he isn’t.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says with a bow.

“How charming, come in!” she greets.

Oikawa straightens up, smoothing out his shirt before fixing his hair. Your eyes widen in awe - his calm confidence is visionary. You didn’t remotely feel comfortable around your mother and Oikawa is smooth and endearing. You're definitely always bringing him with you when you have to see your parents.

Your poorly hidden anxiety is noted on Oikawa’s behalf as he raises an eyebrow and flicks you on the forehead.

“Don’t stress!” Oikawa smiles.

Entering into the house, you two take off your shoes and make your way into the dining area where your mom awaits you. The rooms feel remarkably lifeless and empty.

“Where’s dad?” you ask, taking a seat at the dining table as Oikawa follows suit, sitting next to you.

“Oh working again, doesn’t know when to stop,” your mom sighs. Her eyes trail to Oikawa and her gaze feels so much softer compared to the daggers she throws at you. “Would you like some tea? Water?”

Her gaze lingers as she patiently waits for an answer.

“Thank you, but I’m alright,” he replies.

She turns to you and your heart leaps out of your chest, her stare feels like it could drag your soul out of your body.

“No, I’m fine,” you say, voice shaky as you swallow hard, forcing the next couple words out of your mouth. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the internship.”

Your mom’s intimidating demeanor drops immediately, her eyes twinkling with excitement while taking a seat across from you.

“Oh they’re so delighted to have you,” she croons. “They’ve even made you a care package in anticipation of your arrival!”

“See, the thing is…”

Your mom’s blissful face cuts.

“What’s wrong,” she says, making the question more of a blank statement.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just--”

“You think a mother wouldn’t know her own daughter.”

“It’s just--”

“Spit it out.”

You hold your breath, not sure how to present it. Looking at Oikawa, his eyes are full of affection and reassurance, you’ve come this far and you can’t back out of it now.

“Are you quitting?” she murmurs, gazing at you with a stern, cold look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to cushion the blow. But her eyes grow with more displeasure.

“Excuse me,” she hisses.

The air cuts thin. You’re quiet upon hearing the disappointment in her voice, and can understand why she’d be absolutely mortified.

“All that your father and I have done for you,” she barks. “This is how you repay us?”

I knew this was going to happen, you think to yourself as the worst case scenario seems to be on track with her reaction.

“I want to find somewhere else to intern,” you breathe, scared your words are just going to start a war. Her eyes have blaze in them won’t go out. There’s so much passion to make you like her, but even more successful, despite you going against her wishes. Something in her aura makes you want to run, but running is all you’ve ever done. It’s time to face your fears. “Please, let me explain.”

She doesn’t speak, her scowl says everything as she leans back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, ever since I first went in for the interview,” you begin trembling. “Everyone was so welcoming and so excited to have me, but something just doesn’t feel right.”

“So you’re going to be selfish and only think about yourself?” she argues.

You recognize your anxiety from earlier stirring in your stomach. Your mom isn’t the easiest person to speak to, especially when her face radiates failure and suffering, this is quite possibly the most horrified you’ve seen her.

“It’s not what I want to do with my degree. I want to look somewhere else that will make me feel more fulfilled.”

“What you want is a mistake,” she thunders.

Her words are like knives digging into your heart. She just seems so distraught, and obviously cares about your future, but you can’t do this anymore.

You stand up from the table and bow deeply. “Will you please trust me? That’s all I ask.”

The room is silent as tension fills the air, you don’t really know what to expect as you shut your eyes tight waiting for a reaction. You’re expecting to be yelled at-- not to mention a shock wave of embarrassment protruding through you in front of Oikawa. The moment is painful and you don’t know what to do. You remain in the deep bow waiting.

“Alright. You don’t need to be so ridiculous, bowing...” she mumbles. You stand up and she has her hand clasp to her forehead. “You’re father’s going to kill me, but alright.”

Your heart rate increases, uncertain what she means by that, because you thought you’d misheard her.

“I guess it’s about time you’ve made your own decisions,” she says. “I was beginning to believe you’d continue to go along with it, but you’re your own person now.”

Shock and confusion washes over you, mixed with hope and excitement. You press your palm to your heart wondering if it’s about to beat out of your chest.

“Just don’t come crying when nothing goes your way,” she adds.

Letting out a huge breath, your lips upturn to a smile.

“Thank you,” you say. And it’s genuine.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

Text

BELIEVE IN YOU G.L.

Request: Could u do a gar imagine where gar loses control and kills someone and the reader is the only one to come to his defence when the rest of the titans start acting differently around him. I feel like gar needs a hype man bc he's constantly second guessing himself.

Warning: mentions of blood, death, fluff, gar being a lil cutie as he does

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say so I guess I hope you guys had a good day/will have a good day.

Word count: 3.2k

If there was one person in this world that you would trust with you life, it was Gar Logan. Gar was the kindest, sweetest person you had ever met in you life. He never failed to make you smile and he continuously showed just how resourceful he could be. There was never a time that he would give up, especially when it came to protecting his friends.

Gar never failed to to make sure that his friends knew that he was there for them. Whether it was out on a mission, or within the tower, he was there. When Rachel needed comfort, he was there. When Jason needed someone to talk to, he was there. When you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there.

So when Gar lost control protecting you and his teammates, things changed. All Gar ever wanted to do was keep the people he cared about safe. He was still under the affects of what Cadmus had done to him, and keeping his tiger under control was far harder than it ever had been. He never wanted to hurt people, and yet he had no choice.

The mission Dick had you guys on was supposed to be an easy one. Something that just you and Gar could handle. Things had gone bad, fast. There were far more men there than expected and the two of you couldn't handle all of them on you own. A bullet passed through your suit and into your side. It was just a graze, but it was enough to slow you down.

Gar had no choice but to shift into the tiger if either of you wanted to make it out alive. While he had, he also didn't realize the lack of control that he had as well. When he saw one of the men try to grab you and shove you into their car, he had completely lost all sense of what was right and wrong.

The man that held you was mauled beyond repair. Those who hadn't already been taken down, were long gone. Gar, as the tiger, stood over the man. He hadn't looked at you, but the second his green fur was covered in blood, you weren't sure if you wanted him to notice you.

Finally, he shifted back into himself, realizing what he had done. Blood dripped down his chin, covering his neck and chest. His hands too were dripping with another man's blood. Gar finally looked over at you, petrified that all he would see in your eye is fear. You knew him well enough that this wasn't his fault.

The wound you had caused far too much blood loss and you were starting to sway on your feet. He needed to get you back to the tower, but he also feared of what the others would think.

He was right to worry too.

When you had arrived back at the tower, Dick and the others surrounded you with worry. They tended to your wound immediately, but as soon as you were patched up, all attention was on him. Gar had to explain that he had killed a man saving you.

Surprisingly, it was Dick that had taken it the worse. He had killed many people in his days as Robin, he had no right to yell at Gar for doing so. Not when he barely had control, Cadmus had done this to him, it wasn't like he wanted to do it. Yet, he was still yelled at for killing an innocent man. Even if he wasn't innocent at all.

When Dick stormed off in anger, Gar was the one that reminded by your side. You were passed out from being so weak, but Gar was just happy to see you alive. He grasped your hand in his and pressed them against his forehead.

Tears of shame and anger shed. He hated that Dick was mad at him for something he couldn't control. It wasn't like he had intentions on killing that man, it was the last thing that he wanted to do. He was already haunted by the others, he didn't need another on his list. Gar was furious at himself for losing control again.

But when he saw you getting taken, he couldn't stop himself. You were the person that was always on his side, he couldn't lose you. The tears got worse and worse until suddenly he was sobbing with dread. He had killed someone, that wasn't something that he could just take back.

The blood on his skin was dried up and he was acutely aware of just how disgusting he felt. Gar ripped his hand away from yours and bolted out of the room. He needed to shower, he needed to get rid of every trace that he had ever lost control.

It felt like hours that he was under the water, scrubbing away every drop of blood until his skin was raw. What would you think of him when you awoke? That was his biggest concern. Dick had already made his argument, and by the looks of it, Kori and Rachel were on his side. Jason would be too if he was still around.

Reluctantly, Gar turned the shower off and stepped out. A towel was wrapped around his waist as he sprawled out on his bed. The door to his room was open just ajar, but he couldn't get the motivation to get up and close it. That night wasn't suppose to have this turnout at all.

The creak of his door opening wider caused him to force his eyes shut, he didn't want to hear another lecture from Dick. "I heard you the first time, Dick."

"Didn't hear it from me." Gar's eyes popped open and he jumped up in his bed. You were standing in his door way, leaning against the frame. You skin looked pale from the blood loss and he could see your hands shaking.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Gar scolded. He joined you at your side a swung your arm over his shoulder as he walked you his bed to sit. You winced as you sat, which didn't go unnoticed by him. It should have been him that got that bullet, not you. Things would have turned out completely different.

"Had to see if you were okay," You shrugged. Gar sat beside you. He didn't notice that his hands were also shaking until he saw them next to yours. You reached out to grab it, stopping the both of you. "Whatever Dick told you, he's a hypocrite for saying it. He's hurt a lot more people than you ever have, and ever will."

"He's not wrong though," Gar sighed. "I lost control. What if I had gone after you next? What if there were more people there? Innocent people?"

"Sleep, Gar," you finally spoke after a long pause of silence. You couldn't deny that for a split second, you worried that you were next. Gar would never hurt you, but the people at Cadmus? That was a different story. Your hesitance spoke loud and clear to him: you feared him.

You stood up from the edge of the bed, pausing at his side to kiss the top of his head. Gar leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce that he surely wouldn't get again. How many more of these accidents would it take for him to be kicked off the team? How many more until no one trusted him again?

As badly as he wanted to avoid sleep and the nightmares that would follow, he couldn't stop the black void from taking over.

Gar noticed the difference with everyone in the tower by the next morning. Dick refused to acknowledge that he was even in the same room. Rachel avoided his gaze, she never thought he would be able to pull what he had. Even Kori had trouble sparking a conversation with him. You were the only one to send smiles his way.

The entire day, he moped around the tower, sticking to his room as much as possible. This treatment that everyone was giving him couldn't last wrong, right? He knew that he had made a mistake and he was doing his best to correct it. But how do you fix something that can't come back?

That night at dinner, you had missed the presence of Gar at the table. It had been quiet since Jason left, you didn't think it could get any worse - but without Gar, it had.

You found yourself tossing and turning for hours in bed that night. Your wound still flared up in pain at every movement and would for a while. There was no way that you were going to be able to sleep, and you were sure the boy in the next room couldn't either. That was how you found yourself knocking at his door at three in the morning.

You stood there for several moments, wondering if he was sleeping or even if you had awoken him. Just as you were about to leave, the door creaked open and the small amount of light coming from the hall lit Gar up. He was in his boxers, but eyes wide awake.

"Figured you couldn't sleep either," you told him of your prediction. Gar opened his door wider for you to step in.

"Why'd you come here?" Gar asked. He sat down on the edge of his bed. His sheets were all messed up and you knew that he had the same problem of not being able to stay still. You hadn’t talked to him much that day which led him to believe that you had the same judgement of him as your teammates.

"Because last time I couldn't sleep you came to my room and slept next to me so I could," you reminded him. It had only been a few months ago, but it felt like years. Nightmares plagued your for weeks on end before Gar finally offered you some sort of solution. You never expected it to work, but you had slept like a baby that night.

Gar huffed out a breath of air as a half smile graced his face. It was the first sign of any happiness you had seen from him all day. Gar remembered that night vividly. He could remember your scream of horror as you woke up from you nightmare and running into your room to see if you were okay. It was a simple gesture of seeing if you wanted him to stay, but you had never been more grateful.

"Did you come here for me, or for you?" Gar asked, finally meeting your eye since you came in.

"Mutual benefit," you shrugged. "It's just an offer, I can leave if you want to be alone." Gar's heart rate rose at your counter-offer. He didn't want you to leave, not when you were the only person that seemed to still trust him.

"Stay," Gar decided. You nodded, crawling into his bed as he turned off the light by his bed. Small cracks of light from the city penetrated his blinds just enough so that you could see the outlines of his face. The two of you laid side by side and quietness over took once more. "Thank you."

"You mean more to me than you know, Gar."

You woke up to an empty bed and a sore side in the morning. Gar was gone and if it wasn't for you being in his room, there would have been no sign that you had even slept in the same bed.

The bandage that covered your side was shaded red and you knew that you must have popped a stitch sometime in the night. Whether it was before or after you got to Gar's room, it needed to be fixed. So, you left the warmth of Gar's bed as his scent lingered on your skin. You had no idea where he could have gone to, but you had a more pressing matter at the moment.

The door to the med bay was propped open as you stripped your side of the bandage. Blood covered your stitches and it was evident as to wear you had tore them. After washing it down, you braced yourself for the pain that would come with doing a quick stitch on yourself.

It didn't take long to fix what you had torn, but it wasn't a pleasant experience. Your eyes burned with tears as you held them back. As soon as you were done, you put a new bandage on and covered it back up with your shirt. No one needed to know that you had torn them, there was no need to cause worry.

"Where were you last night?"

"Fuck! Rachel! Don't do that," You scolded, hand over your heart to get it to stop racing from the surprise. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her feet propped up and a bowl of cereal in her hand. A coy smile was on her face, curious as to what you had been up to. "I was here."

"Your door was open all night and you weren't in your room," She continued on with a mouth full of food. "Did you just come from the med bay?"

"Yes," you rolled your eyes at her curiosity. "I had a few stitches rip, not a big deal." Maybe if you ignored her first question, she wouldn't push on with it. Thankfully, that was the case. Rachel didn't try to stop you again as you headed back to your room.

Although sleeping next to Gar once again had helped you sleep, exhaustion still wore you out. You worried about his connection with the others. Dick wasn't pleased about Gar's actions and you weren't sure if he would ever change his mind about it. Truth be told, you thought that he was just a little scared of Gar.

As kind-hearted as he was, he was powerful. Losing control like that, but against everyone would be devastating. Although you understood Dick's concern, he wasn't taking it well.

You knew it too when you heard him and Kori talking about Gar.

Finally, when Dick's harsh words got to be too much, you had swung your door open with anger written on your face. He had no right to be saying that Gar was a lose screw to the team or that he was unsure if he belonged there anymore. Not after everything that he had done - what Kori had done too.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Your chest huffed up and down with frustration. "You're the team leader, Dick. You shouldn't be shunning Gar for his mistakes you should be helping him through them! Don't you think that he fucking regrets what he did? He didn't have control! You know what Cadmus did to him and you're not even considering the lasting effects!

"And you have no right to judge for accidentally killing someone when you've killed so many on purpose. If you wanna keep up at this self-proclaimed leader bullshit, then you better step up to the fucking plate because right now you're being an inconsiderate asshole.

"I would have died if Gar hadn't done anything. If you wanna kick him off this little merry band of heroes you have going on, then count me out too."

"(Y/N)!" Dick called after you as you walked away from all of them. You didn't turn back, but simply raised your middle finger at him. You might have been harsh to Dick about the truth of his actions, but he needed to hear it. Nothing frustrated you more than Dick not realizing how much of a hypocrite he was being.

The door to your room slammed with so much force that it rattled the walls. Dick clearly wasn't expecting an outburst from you - if anything he thought you would have been on his side. You were the one there, you saw just how vicious he could be when he didn't have control. Out of everyone there, you were the only to stay by his side.

Someone knocked at your door as you angrily paced around. "If you're here to talk, Dick, I don't want to hear it," You yelled. The door cracked open and you nearly slammed it back close until you saw the tuft of green hair peak through. "Gar," your voice softened. He slipped into your room and closed the door behind him.

Without having time to say anything, Gar had thrown himself into your arms with his head tucked into the crook of your neck. You didn't hesitate to hug him back. "Where were you this morning?" You quietly asked. He had heard everything you had said for him, but you didn't wish to talk about that at the moment.

"Woke up early, decided to go clear my head," Gar mumbled into your skin. Though he had slept better with you by his side, it still wasn't enough. But hearing you argue against Dick for him? That meant more to him than you could ever imagine. He never would be able to stand up for himself like that, and you had done it without thinking twice.

Gar woke up that morning with you in his arms. That hadn't happened the last time that you had slept with him, but it was a comforting change. The smile on your face as you slept warmed his heart like never before - you had never looked so peaceful before.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you. You could see the exhaustion written on his face from his previous nights. Gar didn't deserve this, he was the last person in this tower to deserve something like this to happen. Your hand reached up to his cheek, thumb swiping away the tears that he didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you," Gar trembled. His eyes were red and his whole body seemed to shake with anxiety. "For having my back, I know it's not easy standing up to the people you care about."

"I care about you, Gar. It's easy to stand up for the people that you care about, no matter who it's against," You assured him. "This wasn't your fault, no matter what Dick says. I know you, I know in your heart that you would never mean to do something like that. I believe in you, more than you know."

"You mean more to me than you'll ever know," Gar repeated your words from the other night. It was the truth, you meant everything to him. He wished that he could express how much he truly cared for you - just as you wanted for him.

"Stay with me tonight?" You asked. Truth be told you didn't want to let Gar out of your sight. You didn't want Dick to try and lecture him again, and you certainly didn't want anyone to spoil this better mood you got him in. “Mutual benefit and all, right?”

"I wouldn’t have it any other way."

#gar logan #garfield logan #gar logan imagine #gar logan one shot #gar logan x reader #beast boy #dc titans #titans imagine #titans one shot #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #fluff

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years ago

Text

Heart Like Yours

Joshua: Chapter 3 (The Only Exception)

Characters: Joshua x female reader

General Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, a tiny amount of fluff, blood mentions, mental illness, suicidal tendencies, mob violence, pain mentions, VIOLENCE, death mentions, made up universe, Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Okay I was gonna do Junhui’s too, but I’m really tired and I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open to finish the last few paragraphs for his so I’ll post it tomorrow. I’m a hot mess right now so I’ll fix this chapter when I wake up more.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀 & ☁️

Heart Like Yours Master List

Chapter 3: The Only Exception

Leaves and twigs started to snap and crackle under his feet. He dodged stray branched and jumped over overgrown tree roots. He had to find you. He followed the mate pull, it was leading him deeper and deeper into the forbidden forest, but he didn’t care. He just knew he had to get to you before it was too late, before HE was too late.

Your essence took him along a body of water in his search. The moon glistened off the water on the riverbank to his left and caught his eye as he was sprinting. As he ran, he could see his reflection. He looked awful. His hair was a matted mess, his cheek was bruised and swollen, his lip was cracked and bloody, his clothes were ripped and torn beyond repair. But none of that mattered, you were in danger. He could hear your heartbeat. It was pounding at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings while it fluttered across the sky. You were absolutely fucking terrified and he was worried that you would end up having a heart attack.

The pull was getting stronger, you must’ve been close by. He moved even faster at the feeling, not even caring that the rocks he had crushed under his feet broke into his skin. He couldn’t let you suffer for his mistakes, he couldn’t. The only thing he could feel at the moment was desperation.

He could hear the villagers getting louder and louder. He was getting so close to you, but it wasn’t enough. He had to work harder. He bolted down the open trail in front of him and dashed to the edge of the tree line. He continued on to the shops toward the square where they must have had you stored. He didn’t have any serum in his eyes to help cover the glowing. It would be obvious to everyone what he was as soon as they saw them, but that wasn’t important. He didn’t care about himself. He only cared about you.

He heard a loud wail and felt a sharp pang in his heart. It caused him to fall to the brick paved sidewalk for a moment in pain. He could smell your blood getting more and more pungent, the iron would no doubt haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

He finally found the pinpointed commotion near the constable’s office. The scene had drawn a massive crowd. He did his best to not be seen as he searched frantically for your beautiful face. He could smell your fear filled tears and hear your exhausted jagged breathing. You were here, he just had to get to you.

He finally managed to push his way to the front of the mob. The sight in front of him was enough to make him want to fall to his knees and sob until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

You sat on the ground, your face was cut and blood was begining to pool in a small puddle around you, it looked like you had been stabbed. You were with some other scared women, all of you were chained to a circular brick like structure designed for prisoners to be held against. There was a large crucifix standing to the right of the prison hold. You were evidently in pain from the silver locked around your wrists. Your head was lolled to the side, wincing slightly from your injuries with your eyes closed. You looked beaten and broken as you sat next to the other women, the aroma they gave off allowed Joshua to smell that they were other mates.

Towards the building near the huge cross, he saw piles upon piles of different colored fur. As Joshua lifted his nose to smell out the area better, he realized the heaps of fur were werewolves who reeked of silver, who’s hearts were no longer beating and who’s bodies were cold. They must have been shot to death. When he connected the scents, he realized they must have been the wolves who’s mates were now locked up. They probably died trying to defend their loved ones, it was a wolf’s nature to fight for their mate’ survival at all costs, even if it meant losing their own life in the process.

The other girls around you looked terrified and were crying out their deceased mates names, some were begging to be allowed to lay with their bodies, others pleaded with their captors to just kill them already. Joshua’s heart hurt for them, he couldn’t imagine the heartbreak they must be feeling or what they had to have gone through to get to the position they found themselves in now.

Still, he felt another sharp prick in his side and immediately turned his attention to you. You sat there with tears now silently rolling down your dirt stained face while a man with a sash on his shoulders laughed at you as you were seemingly bleeding out.

He wanted to run down there and rip the man’s throat out, he wanted to growl and snarl and crush every last jailer that had all of you held captive. But Joshua couldn’t move, it was as if he had been glued to the spot he fought so hard to get to. He wanted to call out your name and run to comfort you as the man bent down and spit at you, causing you to use what little strength you had to jerk away in disgust. He wanted to kill the man for disrespecting and harming you, but he couldn’t get his body to do what his mind and heart wanted him to do.

One by one, the guards grabbed each of the other girls and knelt them down in front of the giant crucifix. They’d force them to pray for their ‘sins’ of being a dog’s ‘bitch.’ Once they were done, they’d ripped their shirts down past their shoulders to show the crowd the marks that their wolf counterparts had given each of them. Then they let the angry village people throw rocks at them. The stones weren’t large enough to cause the girls to fall back in pain, but they were just big enough to leave immediate bruises and remind the girls of their public humiliation.

After the crowd had a few minutes of punishing them for being mates, the man with a black hood over his eyes would turn the girls to look at him before he shot them in the head with a single silver bullet. Joshua had to watch as their bodies had landed on the now bloody ground with the light leaving their eyes in seconds. The mob would cheer and desecrate the bodies of the poor girls and after they were done, they’d throw them in a pile near their dead partners.

Eventually, you were the only one left. You looked so injured. You looked so lonely and helpless. It killed Joshua to see you that way. He knew what was coming for you and it was making him hyperventilate in horror because he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

“Well now now everyone… settle down. Because today, we have a special treat for you!” The man adorned with the bright sash said as he shushed the crowd.

He ushered for two of the captors to bring your weakened form to him to show you off and then grabbed you tightly with a grin plastered on his evil face.

“Now you see folks, the others we found were nothing compared to this one. We found her in the market when someone spotted her bite, but this isn’t just your ordinary everyday mate…” he said as he ripped your shirt enough for the others to see Joshua’s scarred over bite mark right above your collarbone.

Tears began to fall freely from his face as he saw you drop your head in shame. He did this to you.

The crowd quickly booed at you for being a mate. You just closed your eyes slowly in defeat, trying your best to remain strong in front of them so you would not give them anymore satisfaction. But in all reality, Joshua could tell you were terrified. Your racing heart rate and shakey limbs told him that.

“This girl is also a werewolf! We were going to kill her with the other dogs… BUT this mark on her neck makes her an even more special prize! We just had to bring her to the rest of you to see. And we just had to save her for last… for theatrical purposes!” The man declared with a smile on his face that was as large as his massive gut.

The man pushed into your side with his finger and caused you to growl out in warning as shots of pain drew down your side from the feeling. It made Joshua sick to his stomach. In doing such an action, your eyes shifted from their usual blue to a deep green, signaling your anger.

The crowd gasped aloud once they realized what was said to them moments ago was true. Then they cheered for the man. He held his hand up as a sign for the crowd to cease so he could speak.

“Now, what other constable could have found such a find for all of you to enjoy on this fine night huh?” The Constable playfully teased the people while continuing his hold on your body.

“I always deliver on my campaign promises dont I? As I said before I was elected: We will rid this town of wolves once and for all!” He cheered with an excited emphasis on every word of his last sentence.

Everyone started chanting ‘Constable’ for the ugly man and you whimpered in response. Joshua’s heart broke as he saw blood start to drip from your mouth, knowing your wound must be getting worse. There was no way you would survive if you couldn’t get to their healer in time.

“And we’ll Start with this. Little. pathetic. bitch. Who took down 9 of our finest men and left only one survivor.” The crowd sneered at you, calling you every name they could think of while they threw their trash at you in hate.

“You see folks, we figured out that she knows where a whole pack of these vermin are. They came with her to our markets every day. Yet she’s refusing to give us the information. Our usual methods haven’t worked on her. So we had to resort to… other means to get her to speak. Even that’s been uneventful. Perhaps you can all help put this mutt in her place!” The Constable shouted to the people as he let go of his hold on you.

You fell to the ground in less than a second, you had no more feeling in your legs. You had lost so much blood you couldn’t think, you had been beaten and assaulted so badly your limbs were too sore to function, you couldn’t even focus your vision anymore from the bashes that had been given to your head.

Joshua wanted nothing more than to grab you and run. He would’ve ran as far as he could for as long as he could if he was able. But it was like he was just a spectator. A ghost forever stuck in the same place while he watched the love of his life get hurt. He had no ability to move.

The people responded to the Constable’s action by rushing to surround you and they began beating you further. Spit landed on your delicate and bruised skin, new cuts were made over the remaining clean surface you had left, your bones had started to crack as people had began to kick you. You did nothing, you couldn’t even if you wanted to, you were too far gone.

The guards finally pulled the people off of you and held you up so that the Constable could speak to you face to face (at least face to what was left of your face.)

“Well now half breed, won’t you give us the information we need?” He asked, tilting your busted chin up so you’d meet his gaze.

You slowly shook your head no. You weren’t going to give the pack up. No matter what, you promised. You were dead anyways. No amount of healing from Hansol could save you this time. You were about to die circled by horrible people. You weren’t going to let the boys meet the same fate. You wouldn’t let them hurt your family too. Not again. You couldn’t save your old family, you were too little then. But you were grown now. You could protect them now. So You decided to hold in the very last secret that may have given you your freedom.

“Then you’ve left us no choice…” the man tisked your way before he pulled a revolver from the pack of his pants.

“Any last words bitch?” The Constable asked as he held the gun up to your forehead.

Joshua…

With all the strength you had, you moved your head up to look the shiney barrel of the gun dead on before you spoke you spoke the last sentence you’d ever breathe out.

“Yeah. I wish it would’ve been all 10 men” you smirked at the authorities man. You heard the safety of the gun be clicked off.

Josh…

“No!” Joshua all but screamed as his legs finally started to listen to him and jumped to reach his mate.

Your attention turned to him as you finally sensed his presence. You looked at your mate for a final time with watery eyes and mouthed the words ‘I love you’ to him before you heard a loud bang and everything went black.

Joshua watched in horror and cried out in agony as he felt a crushing pain in his chest and watched your limp body fall to the floor…

“Shua… baby… wake up” your loving voice rang through his ears, barely audible over his heart that was now pounding through his veins.

Joshua opened his eyes to follow your sweet voice that he missed so much, expecting it to be a dream or a figment of his imagination. He figured he had just went crazy from the heartbreak of losing his mate.

And yet, when his lashes fluttered open, there you were right in front of him, as alive as you had ever been. Your angelic form had a hand gently placed on his chest and the other was laid on his puzzled cheek in an attempt to sooth him.

“Y-Y/N…? Is- is it really you?” He whispered out as he reached out to touch your face, convinced that his hand would just slip right through you.

But He caressed your soft skin between his hands and began to feel around for a pulse instead. You weren’t really. You couldn’t be. He saw you die. You were dead. How were you alive?

“Of course it’s me silly! Who else would it be?” You giggled at his strange behavior before pecking his lips tenderly.

“But- but you were- and I saw- you should be-” Joshua panicked, bringing your forehead to his while trying to hold back the mountains of tears that were forming in his eyes.

How was it possible? How was THAT possible? You were supposed to be gone. He was supposed to be mourning you. He was supposed to want to die from losing you. How could it be possible you were alive?

“Baby. I’m right here. You were just having a bad dream. I was trying to wake you up but you wouldn’t budge.” You kissed his nose in reassurance, finally semi-catching on to what he was trying to get out.

He saw the sincerity and worry lining your eyes. He could feel your soft touch and the warmth radiate off your body. He could feel your life drifting through his body like a symphony. Why would you lie to him? Why would a daydream of you he had created lie to him and tell him you were alive? That would be torture. His own mind wouldn’t even be that cruel… would it?

“So it- it was all a dream?” Joshua asked, still not letting you take your head away from his.

It was a dream? But It was so real, it was so vivid. He could smell everything. He could see everything. He watched you die. He felt you die.

“Yes baby. It was all a dream. Whatever happened wasn’t real… Are you okay?” You questioned with concern glistening in your eyes.

That’s when it really hit him: You were alive. You were really here. With him. In bed. He hadn’t gotten you killed. He didn’t sign your death warrant by marking you. You still were actually here.

“I’m- I’m fine as long as you’re here” he decided as he brought you to his chest for a hug, tears streaming down his eyes in relief.

Thank God! Thank every God there is or ever was. You were here. With him. And you were talking with your harmonious voice and giggling with that quiet little laugh he loved so much. You were smiling with your bright toothy smile he adored and you were touching him with your soft loving hands. Your heart was beating it’s normal rhythm and you were still breathing. Thank God! You were alive.

“I’m not going anywhere Shua. I’m your mate. Even if it’s not ‘official’ yet. I’ll always be yours and I’ll always be right here.” You mumbled softly, beginning to draw scattered shapes into his toned chest to put him at ease.

Joshua visibly gulped. You WERE his mate. That’s how THEY found you. They saw HIS bite. HIS bite got you killed. HIM claiming you is what killed YOU.

But as he looked down to your shoulder and neck, he remembered that he hadn’t ACTUALLY marked you yet. You wanted him to, He knew that. You gave him plenty of signs and hints that you wanting him to make you his in the eyes of everyone now. But after that dream, there was no way IN HELL he would even THINK about marking you. He couldn’t risk losing you again. He couldn’t be the reason you got murdered.

“B- baby?” Joshua stuttered out to you after a few moments of silence, still engulfing you into a great big hug.

“Yes my love?” You responded, starting to pur when he began to play with your hair.

“I- I’ve been thinking about it and I- I realize that…” He began, trying to find the courage to say the next part of his sentence.

“ I realized that- that I don’t want to mark you.” He stated rather coldly, freezing his movements to give you a minute to process what he had just said.

“You- you don’t want to mark me?” You lifted yourself from his arms and wondered aloud, complete shock over taking your whole system at his statement.

“No. I know you want me to. And I know you want to seal the mating bond. But I can’t… Not now… Maybe not ever...” Joshua reaffirmed his decision while staring blankly at the wall behind you, trying his best to ignore your saddened face.

You sat there, absolutely devastated at his words. He was doing much better with loving you and being there for you. He cuddled you now, he kissed you now, he told you all of his fears now and you helped reassure him that they weren’t anything to give into. He even began showing you affection in front of the others. And he now turned all that progress away?

He didn’t want to mark you? Did you hear that right? He didn’t want to do the ONE thing that was absolutely CRUCIAL for werewolves to do? What did you do to make him become distant so suddenly? Didn’t he love you? He said you were his. You knew he was still struggling with showing feeling and being distant still. But You thought you were someone he’d be willing to make that exception for. You thought you were his Only Exception. Had that changed?

(Updated 9/1)

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt au #seventeen x reader #joshua hong #joshua #jisoo hong #hong jisoo #hong joshua

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clonewarslover55 · 4 years ago

Note

OKAY BUT IF YOURE UP FOR IT??

Reader comforting Boba after he escaped and is healing from the Sarlaac pit?? Maybe some sweet soft smut of them assuring him that he's still worthy and loveable and handsome as hell??

I love this request so much!! So I made it a random sequel to Hard to Kill!!

Body worshipping Boba Fett Random sequel to Hard to Kill

Part one Part two

Warnings: Low self-esteem, panic attacks, PTSD, talk of old injuries, Boba needs therapy, Gender neutral reader, body worshipping, slow smut, oral(Male receiving) cum swallowing, fluff, angst, cry and be horny at the same time with this fic!!

It had been around two years since Boba escaped the Sarlacc buck ass nude. Leaving his armor, trophies, and pride behind. He had been in her gut for two days, narrowly escaping with his life. He had been dizzy and dilousinal when he had gotten free, crawling onto the night chilled sand. The weak acid of the Sarlacc wounded his body terribly.

His nasty burns were now nastier scars. His left arm has scars from the surgery he had to repair the broken bone. His right leg always bugged him now, because it was a mangled mess of cracked bone, ripped muscles, and ripped tendons from where the Sarlacc tried to rip it off. The many surgeries on his legs helped, but the leg still bothers Boba often.

As you helped him heal, nursing him back to health, he told you what happened within the beast. How she trapped souls that would talk to him constantly, how tentacles on the walls of her gut held him still, and how she injected neurotoxin into him to keep him still. Clearly Boba had been scarred mentally and physically from the beast.

You were taking a nap in the cockpit when you heard cursing in Mando’a coming from the cargo hold of Slave I. You blinked and quickly rushed down the ladder to the hold. Boba was sitting against the wall, rubbing his hand clearly in pain.

“What’s the matter?” You walked over slowly, when Boba was pissed off he was not to be messed with. “My nerves in my left hand, they made my hand lock up while I was repairing the first cell door. I broke it even more.” The frustration is very clear in his voice, something else boiling under the service of his facade.

You looked at the smoking door, tools scattered about. In his anger he clearly threw a few tools around. Boba rarely lost his cool, so something must be really bothering him. You sighed softly, looking at the glaring Mandalorian.

You sat down beside him, gently taking his scarred hand in yours. You rubbed his hand slowly, Boba glaring at the floor. “It’s alright Boba, you can’t help-” Boba cuts you off, “None of this should’ve happened. I tried to tell jabba not to try to kill that fucking Jedi!! The stupid Hutt being ignorant ruined my life.” Boba raised his voice, standing up.

“Boba-” He cut you off again, “Don’t Boba me. That stupid monster ruined my body! I am scarred and some of my nerves are damaged! I have to shave my head because the acid that somehow touched my hair causes it not to grow anymore! I-” You stood up, pulling Boba into a tight hug. He hardly ever raised his voice, talking too much hurt his throat. Yelling hurt even more.

You shushed him, rubbing his back slowly. He trembled slightly, clearly going into a PTSD driven panic attack. “It’s okay cyar’ika.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. Boba buried his face into your neck, hugging you back tightly.

Boba struggled everyday with trauma from the Sarlacc, mainly his self image. He lost his armor and the trophies he wore on it, which took a big part of his soul. The armor was his fathers, who he lost once again. But this time in the bowels of the Sarlacc.

Boba had always hated mirrors, not recognizing how handsome he was due to a dread and a deep hatred. Now he hardly even looked in the mirror, hating the scars that now covered his body. He limped almost constantly, his right leg hurting more and more every day.

Boba hated himself more than he ever had before, and it broke your heart.

“Boba you were never ugly.” You step back cupping his cheek, his dark eyes bright with pain and hate. “You’re just as handsome as you were when I met you.” You stroke his cheekbones, a soft smile on your face. Boba looks at you, a hard look still on his face.

You continue to stroke his back, whispering sweet nothings and compliments. He eventually relaxes in your arms, sighing loudly. “How about we fix the cell together?” You speak softly like he’s an injured and spooked animal. You stroke his hand gently, smiling when he nods and mumbles out an “ok…”

~A few hours later~

You sat on the bed beside Boba, tracing his arm scars softly. It took you both a while to fix the door, but you eventually got it done. “Your scars don’t make you any less of a man Boba.” You spoke suddenly. Boba looked at you, a glare on his face.

Before your lover could open his mouth to argue you spoke, “It makes you stronger. Your scars tell a story of your survival. You shouldn’t have survived that monster, but yet you did. You nearly died from shock and the nasty wounds. You nearly lost your leg.” You softly cup his cheek, “You survived because you’re Boba Fett, a goddamn Mandalorian. You’re tough and beyond brave, not to mention stubborn.”

Boba frowned at your words, his dark eyes looking away from yours. “Boba these scars show how fucking tough you are. They prove how incredible you are.” You press a kiss to his scarred wrist. “But I-” You shut him up with a kiss, your lips molding perfectly with his.

“Boba you’re still hot as hell.” You mumble against his lips, “Actually more so! These scars do things to me.” You kiss him again, Boba kissing you back. “You deserve all the love in the universe Boba, you’re worthy and deserving of happiness.” You whisper.

Boba looked into your eyes, the sadness in them breaking your heart. “Do you really think I deserve-” You cut him off again, “Boba you deserve the universe and so much more.” He clearly still didn’t believe you, but you knew just how to persuade him.

You kiss him again, putting all of your love and passion behind the kiss. You helped Boba undress, moving slowly. Once he was naked, you undressed as well. You kissed him again, your hands holding his and giving them a gentle squeeze.

Boba let you push him onto his back, allowing you to crawl on top of him. You kissed his scarred neck and chest, “Let me show you just how hot you are.” Boba only nodded, still looking unsure. You squeezed his right hand before letting go, using your hands to trace his body instead.

Boba was relaxed under you, his cock half hard from your teasing kisses. “These scars just make you even sexier to me Boba.” You spoke seductively, your lips tracing a nasty scar on his left pectoral. Boba looked into your eyes, his eyes growing dark with desire.

You moved slowly, tracing each scar on his sexy body with your lips and tongue. He was covered in scars. So by the time you got to his hard cock he was letting out soft moans, his cock dripping precum.

Boba let out an irritated sigh when you kissed everywhere but his cock, your lips tracing the scars on his thighs. You smirked to yourself, your grumpy man was coming back. In the Sarlacc Boba kept his genitals covered as long as possible, so luckily his large cock still worked.

Boba growled out your name, the noise sending lighting bolts of pleasure to your core. You smirked and licked the precum from his head, Boba groaning loudly. “Just look at you. My handsome Boba Fett, all needy for me.” You purred out the words, which made Boba glare at you.

You held back your laughs as you licked his cock from the base to the head, Boba gripping the bed sheets. He was always the most sensitive when you moved slow like this. You traced your tongue along every bit of his large cock, Boba using all of his willpower to not to buck his hips.

When you finally put the head into your mouth Boba let out a relieved moan, the noise causing you to get even more excited. You held him at the base, your mouth working over him slowly. Boba bucked his hips, a small whine leaving him at your slow movements.

You held his hips down, Boba glaring even more at you. You got back to work quickly, taking Boba as far into your mouth as you could. Your hand covered what your throat couldn’t handle. You moaned around him, your tongue swirling around his thick shaft.

His precum was salty and a little bitter, but it still tasted good enough to you. Boba watched you suck his cock, your throat taking him like a champ. Boba twitched in your mouth, clenching his jaw as he approached his orgasm.

You pulled back, giving a few teasing kitten licks to his dripping head. He growled out your name, a warning. You smirked and took him back down your throat, your hand and mouth working in a perfect rhythm

It didn’t take much more for Boba to cum down your throat, the taste of his warm seed making you shiver. You licked his head a few more times after he finished, watching as he relaxed under you.

You wiped the drool and drops cum from your mouth and kissed your way back up his body. You kissed Boba’s lips deeply, putting all of your love and adoration for him in the kiss. “Do you believe me now?” You questioned, a frown on your lips.

“I suppose….” Your frown turned into a wide grin and you hugged Boba tightly. “Good!!! I love you so much!” Boba smiled, hugging you back. “I love you too, Cyar’ika.”

Boba Fett still had his moments here and there, but he definitely hated himself a little less thanks to you.

Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @iamassbuttkingofhell @catsnkooks @colorfulloverbatturkey @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @hounding-around @julyzaa @feathersforcloes @chr0nicbackpain @strangebroadwaykinks @jedi-nila-rhyn @valkyrieofthehighfae @my-awakened-ghost @commanderrivercc-3628 @anstarwar

#Boba Fett #bobafett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x fem!reader #sarlacc #return of the jedi

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itsamejin · 5 years ago

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it’s you || part 1 || taehyung angst/fluff || hanahaki au

Part 2

Summary: You’d rather live with thorns endlessly scratching the back of your throat than be devoid of the light that Taehyung brought into your life. Even if your love for him was slowly killing you, you didn’t mind as long as you could keep the warmth of his presence until the very end.

Warning: Mentions of throwing up, coughing up blood, death, some slight violence

Genre: Fluff, Angst, hanahaki!au, college!au, fuckboy!tae

Premise: Hanahaki Disease comes in different forms in this universe. The disease would eventually disappear if your love wasn’t that strong to begin with, but if you truly, deeply love someone, your flowers will rip at your throat. Throwing up flowers wasn’t a rare occurrence and for most people it disappeared after a few days. If Hanahaki persists, surgery is recommended, but it would severely dull the positive emotions of the person under surgery. Due to this, some choose to die with their unrequited love.

Commission Request: @guksflavor

Word Count: 8,313 words

—

Taehyung was obnoxiously handsome, too handsome to be a normal guy majoring in Psychology at one’s local university. Often mistaken for a celebrity, frequently breaking girl’s hearts, Taehyung was known as the campus “flower boy”.

It was never meant as a term of endearment. In fact, it offended Taehyung deeply when people would whisper about his private life as if he was incapable of hearing the slight jabs to his character. The nickname came from the notorious fact that Taehyung would cause several people to spit out flower petals from his mere presence alone.

It was the common case of “love at first sight”, a kind that never lasted very long after getting to know him.

Of course, throwing up petals was the first sign of the feared Hanahaki Disease, but it was never that serious when it came to Taehyung. The flowers would stop after a day or two and the girls who convinced themselves that Taehyung would be their future husband soon realized that their feelings never reached below the surface.

Their love was shallow, for no one really loved Taehyung outside of his good looks and he didn’t really mind.

Why should he when he hasn’t fallen in love either?

That’s why he was thankful for you and the rest of his close friends who scoffed at his blatant attempts at flirting. He was grateful for you helping him study or telling creepy girls off when they got a little too close to him at parties. He liked that you rejected his advances and that you cared deeply for him despite his tendency to annoy you. He appreciated having a friend that just... wanted to be a friend.

So why were you in the campus restroom stall, for the fifth time that week, spilling your guts out into the toilet? Why were you grasping at the wall, holding onto it for dear life, as you stared at a striking bundle of yellow flowers coated in toilet water? Why did you cry at the sight of beautiful and fully bloomed daffodils?

You swallowed back the incoming wave of discomfort but it kept coming. All because you couldn’t help but have your heart flutter when he put a hand on your shoulder. Your mind swam in thoughts of him and you weren’t quite sure if you could go on like this. If you could continue to want someone when it only brought you pain.

Why were you in love with Kim Taehyung when that was the last thing he wanted from you?

—

“Want to see something cool?” Taehyung asked, sprawled on your living room floor next to you. It was one of those lazy days you had with him, the kind that was only meant to be enjoyed by friends.

“No.”

Taehyung gave you a dirty look but sat up anyways.

“I’ve been working on my flexibility lately,” he chided. “I can touch my toes for 30 seconds now.”

You closed your eyes and gave him a fake smile.

“Good for you,” you sighed. Sometimes Taehyung had too much energy that you couldn’t match up with. You liked to humor him on days like this when he got extra pouty.

“So you’re not even gonna look?” he said, feigning sadness.

You rolled your eyes behind closed eyes and sat up to face him. You regret opening your eyes because his face was far too close to yours. You would have given him a flower shower right when your eyes locked.

“What was that?” he chuckled. “You looked like you saw a ghost or something. Am I that scary to look at?”

He squeezed your cheeks with both hands and you attempted to pull away from him, only to have him squeeze harder.

“Yes, you’re hideous,” you said through broke sentences. “A beast. You look like a half-eaten mango.”

Taehyung burst out in laughter and let go as he let himself collapse back on the floor. He was that confident in his looks to not mind your snide comments.

“That’s rich coming from you,” he cackled.

You glared at him and hit his stomach with your fist, earning a big ‘oof’ from the oversized child in front of you.

“Say one more word and I will never set you up on that date with my friend,” you threatened, hurt that you had to mention another girl for Taehyung to quit his laughing.

“I’m sorry my queen,” he said dramatically, pretending to kneel at your feet. “I have wronged you.”

You scoffed at his antics and pinched his ear as he wailed for you to stop.

“This is what you get for being stupid,” you said through his cries for help. You lifted his head up to your face and was met with a dazzling grin. Why did he have to smile like that towards you? Why did he lead you on in the most innocent way possible?

“You love when I’m stupid though,” he teased, attempting to tickle your sides.

‘I love you even when you’re not stupid,’ you yearned to say out loud, but the words never escaped your lips.

—

As the days passed it was getting harder and harder to speak. The thorns of some of the flowers made permanent etch marks in the back of your throat. You could muster yourself to sound normal on most days, but just earlier you had thrown up a dozen roses at a small social gathering and the embarrassment and pain had become unbearable.

You wished there was an easy explanation for your pain, but any time you tried to voice your thoughts out loud, you felt suffocated.

Your friends had noticed pretty early on that you had Hanahaki, but like everyone else, they thought it would disappear just as quickly as it came. Taehyung probably would have noticed if it weren’t for him being so desensitized to the disease that he never even bat an eye when you’d excuse yourself from the bathroom every time you two hung out.

He was the naive type, the one that needed to have it spelled out to him when an explanation was due. Maybe that’s why your heart would hurt so much at the thought of telling him about your condition. It would probably break him if he knew.

“[Y/N], at this point in time it’s imperative that you get surgery,” your doctor said sternly, twisting around in his chair. “It’s not safe to continue on without treatment.”

When the three month grace period passed, it was strongly recommended for you to get the surgery before your vocal cords were damaged beyond repair.

If you continued to suffer from Hanahaki, death would be awaiting any moment.

“I know,” you said softly. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

You had your reasons for not wanting surgery. It’s not like you wanted to die, but getting the procedure came with its consequences. Emotions would not come easily and there would be an absence of love in your life... not just for the person you have feelings for, but for everyone around you. So here you were, six months in and losing your voice more and more as the days went by. You were aware of what awaited you next.

You would know. Your mom went through the same procedure.

“You’re very young,” your doctor started, sighing at your stubbornness. “I know that this is a difficult situation, but getting this surgery will save your life. I can’t force you to change your mind, but I want you to weigh your options.”

You nodded at him but tuned out his words as to not be convinced. You couldn’t bear to see Taehyung as just another face, no longer finding the meaning behind his smile, no longer seeing the beauty in his movements. You would rather die a painful death than let go of the love you had developed for a man who didn’t feel the same for you.

“I’ll let you know if I decide differently,” you replied with a whisper. He looked at you with a tinge of disappointment.

“I can’t prescribe a higher dosage of painkillers,” your doctor said solemnly. “Any more and that would be killing you just as much.”

You looked down onto your knees and felt tears stream down your face. Whatever you choose to do, it would end with you in heartbreak anyways. You figured this was the least painful option.

—

Taehyung was always the type to mess around and flirt without thinking. You could count time and time again of him getting kicked out of bars or clubs from talking to other guy’s girlfriends and leaving Jungkook and you to clean up the mess.

The intense gaze his eyes would hold when he’d see someone he found attractive, the way he’d confidently saunter towards them without feeling nervous. You admired Taehyung because he was someone you could never be. So himself, so unafraid of what the world would think of him.

You took a shot of whiskey and swallowed harshly. Your throat was burning from the petals that had invaded it earlier in the day, but you needed to drown out your feelings of sorrow somehow. Taehyung had managed to sneak back into the club, now making his way onto the crowded dance floor looking for his next target.

“You feeling okay?” Jungkook asked, patting your back as you coughed a bit at the taste. Jungkook was your mutual best friend with Taehyung, the defining person that made you the Three Musketeers. He was your rock when times were tough.

“I feel like shit,” you sighed deeply, watching as Taehyung grabbed an unassuming girl by the hand and blew her a kiss. “It’s like the flowers get bigger each day.”

Jungkook knew about your disease. In fact, he was the number one supporter of you getting that life-changing surgery that would impair your emotions for Taehyung permanently. He wanted you to live more than anything, even if it meant costing you a semblance of your happiness.

“Why don’t you just confess to him?” Jungkook asked bitterly. “I mean it couldn’t hurt, right? You’re basically preparing to die at this point.”

You scoffed at his straightforwardness. He was obviously upset with your decision to refuse the surgery and he was showing it to you in a very Jungkook way by making petty comments in a shady club.

He’d never gotten Hanahaki so he would never understand, you thought.

“If I told Tae, wouldn’t you think he’d hate me?” you asked genuinely, tilting your head up at Jungkook. He stared down at you and you could tell he was holding back... because you knew the right answer to the question was yes. He’d have the same reaction as any other womanizer who couldn’t keep a relationship to save his life.

Taehyung would hate you if you loved him.

“He’ll probably ignore you for a bit, but that’s him being stupid,” Jungkook sighed, patting you on the head to comfort you a bit. “I mean, he’d probably try and force himself into falling in love with you if you told him about your... situation.”

You pursed your lips. You could see Taehyung do exactly just that. That was his classic way of ghosting the girls he messed around with, but Taehyung would never commit to those same tactics with you. He considered you like family and he’d probably blame himself until the end of time if he were to find out.

“See what I mean?” you avoided eye contact with Jungkook as you felt your eyes tear up a bit. “It would be all fake. He’d hate me and then pretend to love me and then I’d die either way. It would hurt a hell of a lot more if I let that happen.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows and glared at you.

“There’s always the possibility that he does fall in love with you, y’know?”

You shook your head and fiddled with your fingers.

“Taehyung doesn’t fall in love,” you muttered softly.

The two of you stayed silent, aware that the words you uttered were true. Even as he danced with beautiful women around him, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes solely on Taehyung. He would never let himself be so vulnerable as to fall in love with somebody, let alone a close friend like you.

So why did you let him worm into your heart so easily?

—

Six months ago...

“[Y/N], I’m asking you just this once,” Taehyung begged, puppy eyes activated. “I am begging you to give me her number.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. He always wanted to bother you when you worked your shift at the bookstore. Somehow, Taehyung still didn’t want to make himself useful by helping you put away books.

“Tae, we’re in the same class,” you sighed as you stacked up some magazines on top of each other and pushing a bunch of them into one of the higher shelves. “You could just ask her yourself.”

He whined and gave you that infamous pout known to make every girl on campus swoon. If it weren’t for your self-control you would have punched him right then and there for trying to act cute with you while at work.

“I can’t be too direct,” he replied with those pouty lips. “The other girl I'm trying to get with in that class will notice.”

You scrunched your nose. For someone who hated giving people Hanahaki, he couldn’t help but play around with girls as if it were a sport. He was practically an expert in making himself hated amongst his exs.

“You’re gonna regret being such a fuckboy one of these days,” you warned, but taking out your phone to pull up her number anyways. “Mark my words.”

He let out a cheer and hugged you from behind, squeezing you until the oxygen left your body. You tried to push him off of you, but he didn’t budge. It was better to just let him get his clinginess out of the way and then kick him in the shins later.

“I’ll treat you to dinner for this,” he said, grinning as you sent him her number through text message.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed. “Please let go of me I feel like I’m about to throw up.”

He laughed and kissed your cheek, a sound that resounded from the store so loudly that it made you wince.

“Love ya,” he smiled, rushing out of the store like a giddy teenage girl. You clenched your fists and touched the area he pecked. Somehow it made you angry at how excited he looked at the thought of another girl.

What did they have that you didn’t? Did you not exist to him at all?

You clutched onto your stomach as you felt something rumble. You felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of your throat and asked your boss if you could be excused. You tried making it to the bathroom in the back of the bookstore but you stumbled on a pile of books before you could reach your destination. You were on your knees, clutching your stomach as you hurled the contents inside of your stomach onto the wooden floors.

‘I’m so getting fired for this,’ you thought, as you kept your eyes clenched. When you decided to open them, you weren’t met with the soupy substance of the pizza you ate earlier that day, but with an array of pink peonies scattered across the floor. You shook your head out of disbelief.

No one throws up that many flowers on the first day of contracting Hanahaki. It was always one or two petals and it never came in full blooms of flowers. You had experienced this before with a boy back in middle school and it never turned out so... dangerously beautiful like this.

The sight in front of you was astonishing, the books stacked behind the scattered petals made for a picturesque view. Something about it didn’t sit quite right with you though, as if this signaled your demise.

You whisked through the flowers to see if anything abnormal was found in the flowers and there you saw it. Small specks of blood on the petals.

You realized then that you were screwed.

—

Present

The club continued to stay lively as Taehyung danced his heart out, simultaneously avoiding the bouncers that made their rounds around the club. He couldn’t risk getting kicked out again.

While you enjoyed seeing how much fun he was having, it made you sick to your stomach at how up close and personal he was with other girls. It made your blood boil at how easily it was for Taehyung to be so enamored with someone he could meet just five seconds ago, but feel nothing for you when you’d been friends for much longer. You held onto Jungkook’s arm to keep you steady as you felt another vomit session come up. You were starting to get dizzy and it wasn’t from the alcohol.

“You look like you’re about to faint any second now,” Jungkook said, worry etched all over his face. “Do you need me to take you home?”

You just laughed softly and grabbed onto the table in front of you instead of Jungkook. You weren’t leaving tonight knowing that Taehyung was still having the time of his life in front of you, even if it hurt to even stand. You just needed to take your mind off of him, that’s all.

“Jungkook, if you just randomly got amnesia one day and forgot everyone around you, how would you feel?” you asked him, pouring another round of whiskey into your glass to ease the headache.

“What does this have to do with you fainting?” he grumbled, stealing your shot and gulping it down for yourself. You scoffed at his blatant attempt to keep you from drinking.

“Just answer the question,” you said, now eyeing a girl Taehyung had his body pressed against. She looked about ready to pounce on him any second.

“I don’t know, I’d probably feel like shit,” he shrugged, motioning for you to pour him another drink. You obliged.

“Well that’s how getting that fucking surgery would feel like,” you said rather aggressively as now the girl was taking Taehyung to the back of the club, where the restroom stalls were. You felt the familiar feeling of choking occur but you muscled through it.

“You’re overreacting,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t drink the shot yet and instead handed it to you. He noticed Taehyung getting dragged to the restroom too and felt like you needed it, even if your hands were shaking as you grabbed it from his hands. You clenched your fist as you swallowed the cold liquid. It had flushed down the flowers temporarily.

“Not overreacting. I’ve seen it first-hand myself,” you said.

He looked at you, surprise written all over his face, but didn’t press any further. That’s why you appreciated Jungkook so much. He never overstepped his boundaries, unlike Taehyung who practically invaded your personal space each time you saw him. The two were so different from each other and you were so different from them. You wondered how the three of you even became friends.

“I don’t want to turn out like an empty shell for the rest of my life,” you continued, still holding the empty shot glass to your lips. “I’d rather die doing everything I wanted to rather than live a meaningless life.”

He glanced at you, slightly impressed by how stubborn you truly were. Nothing would get to you and no amount of pleading would make you change your mind. You weren’t going to get that surgery.

“So are you gonna make like a bucket list or what?” he asked, taking the whiskey and chugging it straight from the bottle. You looked at him in disgust as he detached himself from the liquor. It seems like both of you were drinking to forget.

“I should, shouldn’t I?” you smiled, finally setting the glass down as you saw Taehyung exit the bathroom looking disgusted. “Might as well since I’m gonna die anyway.”

You two laughed at the morbidity of it all. It wasn’t a funny situation to be in, but you had to make the most of it. Would this be the last time you go clubbing with Jungkook and Taehyung? Would your life end before it even really started?

“That girl puked hydrangeas on my fucking shoes,” Taehyung yelled, rushing to the two of you. “We gotta leave, I am not having her follow me around after this.”

Jungkook and you scoffed at his silliness. This was better, you thought. The atmosphere between Jungkook and you earlier was so grim. Typical Taehyung brightening up the mood wherever he went.

Even as the feeling of thorns pricked against your throat, you couldn’t shake off the smile that was on your face. For Taehyung had made you happy and you couldn’t imagine not feeling any emotion other than love as he looked at you with such sincerity.

You couldn’t bear the idea of Taehyung not having an effect on you.

—

“Please, Jungkook,” Taehyung cried, shaking him back and forth as all three of you stood in the university hallways waiting for the lecture hall to open. “Just give me the notes, I’ll give them back I promise.”

Jungkook clicked his tongue and tried to pull his backpack away from Taehyung who was furiously trying to make a grab at it.

“Fuck off dude, you should’ve studied when you had the chance,” Jungkook sighed, searching for some assistance from you. “It’s not my fault you got wasted at the club last night.”

Taehyung whined at Jungkook’s reluctance to help him out. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t cram any information that morning with that stupid hangover of his. Pretty soon, Taehyung was looking at you too, expectations written all over his face. You huffed out an annoyed breath and opened up your own bag.

“Tae, just use my notes,” you shook your head lightly, taking out the composition book tucked near the back of your bag. “Stop bothering Jungkook, he looks ready to start a fight with you any moment now.”

Taehyung’s eyes lit up in a way that made your heart stop, naturally gravitating towards your direction. He looked so pure and innocent in moments like these when he gets something he wants. You couldn’t help but feed off from his positive energy.

You handed him your notebook as he stared at it in awe.

“You are the only person who wants to see me succeed,” Taehyung said dramatically, kissing your notes as if it were the seventh wonder of the world. Jungkook scoffed and smacked Taehyung’s head.

“What are you gonna do without [Y/N] always covering you?” he rolled his eyes. Somehow his words stung a bit.

You didn’t think Jungkook really knew the weight of his own words, but you were thinking deeply about it. What would Taehyung do without you being there for him all the time?

Taehyung shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter, [Y/N]’s gonna be my guardian angel forever,” he teased and put an arm around you. You clenched your jaw and looked down a the floor. You could not let yourself yack some damn petals in that hallway during exam season.

"Do you not feel sorry for her one bit?” Jungkook scoffed, clearly done with Taehyung’s childish antics.

“Why should I?” Taehyung asked innocently, nuzzling into your hair as he held you tight. Somehow his touch felt suffocating, even though his arm was lightly placed on your shoulders.

“It’s not like she can live without me either,” he teased, booping your nose.

Jungkook and you exchanged glances and both simultaneously pulled on his ears.

‘If only he knew,’ you thought to yourselves.

—

After the quiz that Taehyung most likely failed, he invited Jungkook and you over to his place to eat some ramen.

“Sorry man, we actually have a life outside of you,” Jungkook said, declining his offer. “I’ve got extra shifts at work to cover anyways.”

You nodded at Jungkook’s excuse and proceeded with your own.

“I have some stuff to catch up on, so I can’t go,” you replied, trying to act nonchalantly. “Maybe next time, Tae?”

He shook his head at you two, feigning sadness.

“Both of you always act cold towards me, I’m starting to feel like this is a one-sided friendship,” he sighed, clenching his heart as if he was shot. It took everything in you to not step on his foot right then. He might not know about your condition, but the comments were unnecessary regardless if you had Hanahaki or not.

Jungkook and you simply stared at him and he awkwardly put his hand down when none of you showed a reaction.

“Fine, go do whatever,” he said, pompously. “I was gonna invite a girl over for dinner anyways.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Alright, bro. Have fun or whatever,” he said, trying to shoo Taehyung away. “I’ll walk [Y/N] to her dorm, you just leave.”

Taehyung clicked his tongue at him, but eventually left, leaving you to be with Jungkook alone.

“He’s the worst,” you sighed, and to that Jungkook nodded in agreement.

“You’re still choosing to die for him, though,” Jungkook muttered under his breath. You flinched at his words, saddened by Jungkook’s word choice. If he put it like that then you sounded like a weirdo.

An awkward silence fell between the two of you. You half-expected Taehyung to come back to you guys and interrupt your conversation to help lighten the mood, but he never came. Jungkook expected you to talk first since you were the one that asked to talk to him anyway, but it was clear his underhanded comment had made you uncomfortable.

“Why did you want to meet up with me anyway?” Jungkook asked, easing the tension just a bit.

You coughed awkwardly and looked up at him with a new sense of determination in your eyes that he hadn’t seen in a while. You seldom looked motivated these days.

“It’s about that bucket list thing you mentioned yesterday,” you started. “I want to do one of the things as soon as possible.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Why?”

You bit your bottom lip, not quite knowing how to phrase what you were about to say without making Jungkook upset. He’d probably nag at you like he usually does.

“I don’t have a lot of time left, Jungkook,” you said softly. “I just want to do as much as I can before I get stuck in a hospital bed.”

He stared down at you with sorrowful eyes. He wished there was some other way to help you, one that didn’t ultimately end in you dying.

“What do you need?” he asked kindly, surprisingly taking your words pretty well.

You smiled up at him and pulled out a piece of paper from your bag. Jungkook took it from your hands and was met with small sketches of flowers that you had presumably drawn. He studied the designs carefully, confused.

“Okay, how the hell am I supposed to know what this means?” he asked you, angling the paper in different ways to see if he was supposed to crack a code or something.

You shook your head in disappointment. You thought he’d get it by now, considering it was in his line of work.

“Tattoos,” you said simply. “I want a whole sleeve of flowers on my right arm and a bunch of small ones on like my thigh-”

“Stop stop stop,” Jungkook said, waving a hand in front of your face to shut you up. “You want a what now?”

You smiled brightly and spoke with more confidence.

“I want tattoos!”

He scoffed and handed back the paper to you.

“Are you only saying this because you’re gonna get discounted at the shop I work at?”

You shook your head rapidly, not amused by his assumptions.

“No, I’ve just always wanted them,” you said seriously. “I was always too scared with the needle but since I’ve got nothing to lose, I thought why not?”

Jungkook poked you with his index finger in the area between your eyebrows.

“You need to stop talking like that [Y/N],” he said seriously. “I hate when you get all negative.”

You smiled sadly at him.

“Give me the tattoos and I’ll stop talking,” you teased, but your words lacked genuine feeling.

Jungkook heaved out a sigh.

“Fine, but don’t come crying to me if you regret it,” he said, turning his back to you so he could make a call to his boss. Turns out he actually would be working that day.

—

The feeling of Jungkook’s needle on your skin didn’t hurt as much as you nearly thought it would, the pain only coming in dull waves.

After throwing up flowers consistently for the past few months, nothing could quite match up to the pain of thorns poking at your throat at random times of the day. To you, this was child’s play.

“You’re taking this pretty well for a beginner,” Jungkook complimented, still focusing on the light curves of the forget-me-nots he was etching onto your skin. A whole array of flowers would be drawn on your arm eventually.

“I’m good with my emotions unlike some people,” you said, clearly referencing how agitated Jungkook had been recently. He seemed to lash out every little thing and even made snide comments when he thought no one was listening. Jungkook was definitely taking your situation harder than you were at this point.

He only smiled at your words, not making any big movements as to not disrupt his work.

“I’m just shocked you’d want the stuff that’s gonna kill you to be on your body forever,” he replied back. Although he spoke too morbidly, he made a fair point.

“Well, the flowers mean more to me than just that,” you started, slightly wincing as Jungkook’s needled started drawing on a new patch of skin.

Jungkook noticed your discomfort and tried to ease your mind.

“Tell me about that,” he asked, hoping you didn’t feel even more uncomfortable with the question. He anticipated your reply as you coughed awkwardly.

“I’m actually doing this for my mom,” you said softly, avoiding eye contact with him. “She had Hanahaki too and it didn’t turn out well.”

He took a step back to get a good look at your sleeve. He had been working at this tattoo for two hours now and he only seemed to finish just one small section. ‘This would take several sessions of hard work,’ he thought to himself.

“You never talk about your mom,” he pointed out, lightly dabbing the bleeding parts of your skin to avoid infection on your skin.

“My mom got the surgery,” you said slowly, suddenly feeling a sting as the needle hit your skin again. “She found out my dad cheated on her after throwing up flowers for a couple of nights.”

He stopped his movements for a bit, shocked with your revelation. He knew you were hiding something, but he never expected it to be this big. He looked up at you and regretted seeing your sad expression so up close. It seemed you were about ready to cry.

“It literally broke her,” you continued. “She didn’t find joy in anything anymore. Like, she was a completely different person.”

Jungkook stopped his wrists from moving and pulled back a bit. He didn’t know how to comfort you. It was always Taehyug’s forte when it came to emotional stuff. What was he even supposed to say?

“Did you tell her?” Jungkook gulped, his words were shaky. “About not wanting the surgery.”

It was then that you started to break down and it wasn’t from the pain of getting a tattoo. It was the look of complete and utter worry from Jungkook that set you off into a fit of tears.

“Who is there to tell, Jungkook?” you whispered through the tears. “She’s dead.”

He looked at you in shock, not really registering your words. Obviously, your mother hadn’t died from Hanahaki, she already got the surgery. The reason, he knew, must’ve been much more sinister. He didn’t quite know how to approach you as you hiccuped through your tears. He patted your back in reassurance and repeated time and time again that it was okay, that Taehyung and him would be there for you.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” you mumbled. “I’m a shitty friend.”

He shook his head and was about to reply when an unwelcomed guest came bursting through the tattoo parlor doors.

“Jungkooooook,” you heard a yodel, belonging only to a voice you two could recognize perfectly.

Taehyung.

You made swift movements to wipe away the tears from your face and Jungkook pretended as if he was in deep focus on drawing something on your skin. Taehyung entered Jungkook’s station, unassuming and bright as ever. He held a plastic bag with takeout boxes in his hand, presumably food.

“[Y/N]? You’re here too?” he asked in confusion, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Getting a tattoo?”

You nodded hesitantly and he gave an even more worrisome look.

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” he asked slowly, trying to decipher what was really happening.

Jungkook coughed awkwardly.

“I think I’m gonna check out the other clients for a second,” he said, standing up and setting down his tools. “I’ll be right back, [Y/N].”

You looked at Jungkook pleadingly to stay, but he shook his head. He did not want to get involved in whatever discussion was about to go. You sighed and brushed the strands of your hair that was getting on your face. You just hoped your red eyes from crying went unnoticed.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were getting a tattoo?” he asked sadly, sitting on the stool Jungkook once occupied. “Is this what you meant when you said you were ‘catching up on things’?”

You pursed your lips, not quite knowing how to respond.

“It was a personal thing,” you whispered, massaging the back of your neck. You felt the flowers in your stomach once again.

“What, so you told Jungkook and not me?” Taehyung pouted, setting the food he brought on a nearby table. “I texted him if he was at work and he said yeah. I usually surprise him with Thai food. I didn’t think you were gonna be here too so I only bought enough for two.”

You smiled at him. Taehyung was still as considerate as ever.

He took a look at your tattoo, slightly confused with the realistic flower patterns. His fingers ghosted over them as if to make sure they were real.

“Why flowers?” he asked. He never thought of you as a flora type person. He’s probably never seen you hold a flower in his life.

“None of your business,” you scoffed trying to face away from him. You didn’t want him to see your flustered expression and the puffiness of your under-eyes. He pouted at your words and lack of eye contact.

“You’ve been so distant from me lately, [Y/N],” he said in a cutesy voice. “I feel like Jungkook and you have been hanging out with each other more than with me. I’m starting to feel really left out.”

You chuckled. You weren’t mad at him for barging in during your tattoo session, but you were frustrated with his naivety. There you were getting the most feared items on the world tattooed on your skin and he questioned very little of it? How dense was he really?

“We can hang out some other time, alright Tae?” you said, ruffling his hair lightly. “I just want this first session done and over with.”

He grinned up at you and squeezed your hand that was on his head.

“Then let me stay here to be your emotional support,” he teased, taking your hand into his. You nodded with a smile, but an uncomfortable feeling had erupted in your stomach.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” you asked urgently, pain laced in your voice. He nodded worriedly as he watched you rush off into the restroom. ‘You were having a lot of stomachaches lately,’ he thought to himself.

You covered your mouth with your palm as soon as you were out of Taehyung’s sight, making sure not to throw up anything on the tattoo parlor floor. Jungkook saw you escaping from his station and followed you into the unisex bathroom. He rushed over to you as you threw up into the toilet bowl, some excess flower petals hitting the floor instead. Tears welled up in your eyes as the flowers kept coming in several colors, all different sizes. They were all tulips, stained in blood and mucus, a truly disgusting sight to behold.

Jungkook patted your back gently and tried to ease you through the pain. Your mouth ached as the last petal left your lips and you desperately grabbed onto Jungkook’s thigh as you coughed out blood. Your lips were horribly stained with a deep rouge.

“Water, please,” you pleaded with your strained voice in between coughing fits.

Jungkook got you the water and while you tried to act like nothing happened when you came back to Taehyung who was playing Candy Crush on his phone, he couldn’t help but notice how raspy your voice had gotten since just a few moments earlier and how tired your eyes looked when you stared at him.

“Are you sure you wanna keep on going?” Jungkook whispered to you. “We can have another session tomorrow. I think it’s probably best you go home.”

You shook your head.

“I just want to be with him a bit more,” you said softly, glad that the boy of your affection was so deeply engrossed in his mobile game. “I didn’t lose that much blood.

Taehyung, at the corner of his eye, couldn’t help but see a small pink petal on your shoe with tinges of red splattered on it. He saw the way Jungkook would ask you every 30 seconds if you were feeling okay when he was never the type to talk while he tattoed.

He wondered if it was any of his business to ask.

—

Throughout the next two weeks, Jungkook had finished the various tattoos you wanted through grueling sessions with Taehyung bothering the two of you in the sidelines. Within those weeks, your health had massively deteriorated as well. The number of flowers you threw up increased by the day and the amount of blood that showed up was worrisome, to say the least. You knew your time was coming up, so it was only fair that you were to complete something you desired most before your eventual demise.

Go on a proper date with Taehyung.

Not like the one-on-one hangouts you had with him where you’d throw on whatever. No, you wanted to get dolled up and pretty this time, so you asked him if he wanted to go watch a movie with you and eat dinner after. You knew it wouldn’t change how Taehyung felt about you since he wouldn’t even consider your invitation as a date, but you still wanted to look your best regardless.

You got ready hours before he intended to come over to pick you up. You lathered on several layers of lipstick, not really knowing what you were expecting to happen anyways. When you finally made your way outside, you were satisfied the starstruck look in Taehyung’s eyes

“Wow you dressed up today,” he chided as he saw you exit your dormitory. “You have someone to impress or what?”

He winked at you and you only scoffed in response. It was obvious that he was staring intently at the new tattoos you had embedded into your skin. It was nice seeing him look at you in a way that you weren’t used to... like he actually found you attractive.

“Please, I look good for myself,” you said confidently. “Can’t say the same for you considering you wore that shirt yesterday.”

He clicked his tongue in your direction.

“Whatever, whatever,” he said, waving his hand in front of him. “I get to have you all to myself today. No Jungkook in sight. I could rub this in his face later.”

You laughed at his silliness. If you wanted to delude yourself, you’d have thought Taehyung was jealous. He was so cute, with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked at you with a flushed face. You only had to tolerate the fluttering feeling in your stomach for a few hours or so, how bad could it be? You just needed to endure it until Tehyung left and you were free to throw up all the petals you needed to.

“Let’s go to the movies?” you offered and he smiled, agreeing with your suggestion.

It was nice like this, walking by his side without a care in the world. It made you sad to think that this too would be taken away from you. That you’ll never get to hear him babble about dates gone awry or see how his smile would get wider when he saw his favorite food again. It would all be taken away from you eventually, one way or another. You clenched your fist, attempting to focus on his voice rather than the nausea that had overtaken your body.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you had to love him all alone.

“I don’t think I get to tell you enough how much I appreciate you,” Taehyung said, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. “You always look out for me even when you look like you aren’t.”

You smiled at his compliment.

“There’s no need for that,” you replied. “What kind of friend would I be if I just watched you suffer alone?”

You tried to swallow down the hypocrisy that came with your own words. He had no idea that you were lying through your teeth right then and there. You tensed at the sound of Taehyung chuckling at your comment.

“That’s what friends are for after all,” he said in agreement.

It happened almost suddenly. The first cough and then a second and then you couldn’t stop your knees from hitting the concrete of the city sidewalk.

“[Y/N],” Taehyung shouted, kneeling next to you on the crowded street. His voice was distorted among all the other sounds you were hearing. There were bells, whistles, the sound of an incoming storm. You started hyperventilating.

‘Not here, not here. Anywhere else but here,’ you screamed to yourself in your head.

You clenched your stomach and tried to hold back the impending contents that were soon to escape your lips. You shook your head as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. You didn’t want Taehyung to see you like this.

“[Y/N], tell me what's wrong,” Taehyung pleaded. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

You couldn’t help as the tears rolled down your face as the first petal left. And then another. By then, a crowd had formed around you two and someone was in the process of calling an ambulance. You couldn’t stop the bloody white roses that escaped your lips, slashing the inside of your throat as more of them came. All parts of your body ached, but your heart hurt the most. Taehyung’s face was in such distress and you were the reason for it.

You were the reason for his pain just as he was the reason for yours.

The last thing you heard before collapsing in his arms was Taehyung screaming your name, the blood mixed with lipstick on your mouth staining his shirt. He called for help and eventually, they did come. They came but it felt like he had already failed you somehow. Like he could’ve done more to protect you.

As the EMTs hauled you off into the ambulance truck, he took one last glance at the pile of flowers that stained the concrete.

It looked too similar to the flowers drawn near your shoulder.

—

Taehyung sat near your hospital bed, clenching his hands together and shutting his eyes to even out his breathing. ‘I’m a dumbass for not realizing earlier,’ he thought to himself.

The nurses had filled him in about your condition just a few moments earlier. He found out that you were six months into being diagnosed with Hanahaki and that you had no intention of getting surgery. It hurt his heart to think that you were suffering all alone, carrying the burden of a terminal illness all by yourself. He hated to think that the person you loved had no idea you were in such pain. Taehyung found himself hating the person you longed for, even if he didn’t know who that was.

He took a glance at your resting features.

You looked so pale in the dim hospital lights and the sound of your heart monitor made him apprehensive. You had Hanahaki and you never bothered to tell him? Was this another one of your secrets you were hiding from him lately? He sighed, burying his face into his palms.

"You don’t deserve this [Y/N],” he said solemnly, brushing away some strands of hair from your face. “Anyone would be lucky to have you be in love with them. That person doesn’t know what they’re missing out on.”

Taehyung went through a list of people in his head who could’ve been your possible unrequited love. It couldn’t be Namjoon, the guy that was helping you out all the time at the bookstore. You two barely talked. It wasn't Seokjin from lecture hall either, you said he wasn't your type. Was it Hoseok from the same department? Perhaps was it-?

He webbed his fingers through his hair out of frustration. Who could it possibly be?

Taehyung was disturbed from his thoughts from a slight knocking sound that continued on for a few seconds.

"Come in," he replied back cautiously.

To Taehyung’s surprise, Jungkook opened the door, a bouquet flowers in his hand as he walked through. Taehyung's body tensed at the sight of him. He had put two in two together and now he clenched his fists together, tightening his jaw.

It was him. It had to be him.

"I would've come earlier, but I wanted to get these for her when she wakes up," Jungkook said solemnly and set the flowers down near the hospital nightstand. "How's [Y/N] holding up?"

Taehyung stood up from the seat next to your bed, cracking his neck to the side to release some tension. He came close to Jungkook, glaring at him in a threatening stance. Taehyung grabbed at his collar.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing bring flowers to a patient with Hanahaki?"

Taehyung's voice didn't sound quite like he usually did. There was a growl akin to anger in the way he spoke. Jungkook pushed him off of him, confused as to why Taehyung was picking a fight with you when you were sleeping just a few meters away.

"It's just a nice gesture," Jungkook seethed. "Why are you being so fucking hostile when you didn't even know she had Hanahaki in the first place?"

Taehyung scoffed, shoving Jungkook by the chest.

"You knew?" he squinted his eyes at Jungkook. "You fucking knew and you didn't do anything about it?"

Jungkook took a look at your sleeping form. He was glad you weren't awake to be hearing this because he was ready to do something he'd regret. He didn’t mind getting kicked out of the hospital if it meant putting Taehyung in his place.

"Why should I do anything, huh?" Jungkook sighed. "I’ve been begging her to get the damn surgery. She won't fucking listen to me!"

Taehyung punched him right then. His wrists were bound to bruise by the impact of it all and Jungkook just stared at him in shock, clutching his cheek.

"It's your fault that she's dying," Taehyung started, tears welling up in his eyes. "You should have fucking tried harder to convince her. You could’ve stopped this."

Jungkook charged at him and pushed Taehyung against the wall. It was a miracle you hadn’t woken up from all the noise they were making. There was bound to be complaints from neighboring rooms for the ruckus the two boys were causing.

"Me?" Jungkook gritted his teeth, taking a good hard look at Taehyung. "You’re saying I'm the reason?"

Taehyung scoffed at his face and pushed him off.

"Who else then? Who else is fucking killing [Y/N]?!" Taehyung cried, his voice echoing in the hospital room.

Jungkook took a step back from him until he soon brought his fist back to hit Taehyung square in the jaw. He fell onto the floor and cringed at the pain.

“I know it’s not my business to say anything,” he mumbled, but loud enough for Taehyung to hear him. “And that it’s between [Y/N] and you but I’m really fucking sick and tired of seeing her break down over someone as incompetent and stupid as-”

“Can you just spit it out already, you piece of shit-”

Jungkook threw another punch at Taehyung when he made his way to stand. He had collapsed on the floor again, trying to readjust his jaw. Jungkook’s hand was bleeding at that point, but he didn’t care one bit. Taehyung deserved everything that was coming to him.

“It’s you,” Jungkook seethed. “You’re the reason why she’s fucking dying!”

Taehyung stared up at him in a state of shock as your body had started to wake up into consciousness. The two boys stared at each other, dripping in anger.

“What did you say?”

—

A/N: Another Taehyung fic up my sleeve! Sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger like that :P The second part will be a lot more intense. Special thanks to @guksflavor for commissioning this and also buying 2 coffees for me, I really appreciate it. It was a whole lot of fun writing this first part and I hope you guys enjoyed it. It’s my first time writing about Hanahaki Disease, so I wanted my interpretation to be slightly unique. I’m so glad I got a request like this from the get-go, since I love these kind of angsty stories. If y’all want to commission for stories or simply donate, my Kofi is linked on my blog. If not, that’s totally fine, I’m thankful for your support either way.

PS. Trash part two comes out at the end of this week, please anticipate it a lot!

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years ago

Text

How To Train A Demon

An adorable visual of Demon!Deku by @birds-have-teeth !!💙

Demon!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who knew you’d be teaching a man from the underworld your way of life, and who knew you’d slowly start to fall in love with the very being you were taught to fear?

WARNINGS! None!

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 12k

A/N: Day 12 of the Izumonth collab!

I had to split it into two parts due to limited time with editing, so the second part will be posted shortly after the collab ends!

I also want to thank @1a-imagines for helping me edit and find a good stopping point with this fic! I would not have finished it in time if it werent for her and her amazing talents!

Just To Clarify:

Takes place in early-ish Japan during the summer!

I did not do my history homework..

Reader does not have a job, and lives alone on the side of a mountain.

They say dark and stormy nights always bring chaos and misfortune.

That the scariest of tales are bred from the harsh splatter of rain on parched ground, the crackle of lightning in the sky illuminating the monsters that lurk deep in the shadows.

They always warn to fear those nights, to keep a lantern on and a knife under your pillow, for you never know what nefarious being is waiting to strike during your most vulnerable state.

And for the most part, it was true. Believable.

Of course, how could you not believe in such stories?

They were what you grew up with, what you were lectured with, a lesson repeatedly bashed into your skull from the minute you could understand them.

Everyone feared those nights.

Everyone feared the darkness.

It was always something so easy to be afraid of without even really being given a viable reason as to why other than tales passed on for generations.

You fear what you do not understand.

Especially those who lived alone, people like you.

People who needed fear to keep them alive more than the next person.

A small house on the mountainside, surrounded by thick forests and shrines to gods of ancient times. Lands protected and blessed by predecessors, symbols carved into trees and painted on rocks to banish the evil.

But alone you lived, alone your fears manifested into a ball of terror-filled paranoia, regardless of anyone’s true sense of reason.

Could you always rely on a symbol to keep you safe?

This particular night would unknowingly bring those fears to life.

But then again, it’s impossible to expect the unexpected, regardless of what others may say or encourage.

Thunder clapped loudly in the sky as rain assaulted your wooden rooftop, something usually so peaceful amplified by the altitude and sounding like a million dancers stomping on the old wood, dragging you into a restless sleep as stray drops drip from your ceiling, echoing in a metal pan at the far side of your room from a leak you had yet to repair.

Body curled into a ball, you gasped involuntarily when a bright flash illuminated your room, followed immediately by the raging roar of the sky as it split in two once again.

It was safe to say you would suffer through another sleepless night, fingers digging into the meaty flesh of your poor pillow as you fought to maintain a steady breath as the violent storm raged on outside, howling winds only adding to the dreadful abundance of creepy noises.

Nights like these you wished you weren’t alone.

Perhaps you would have been less afraid if your deceased family didn’t decide to live on the mountain instead of in the valley.

Though you desired to move down there where lanterns illuminated the sky at night, you couldnt abandoned what little you had left of your kin.

Instead, you sucked it up, like you always managed to do.

You were an adult, after all, one that theoretically should have been married already, but alas.

You craved freedom more than you craved to be tied down by a ring of false promises. That, and the fact that typically parents were the ones who set up marriages.

As another bang of thunder rang out in the night, you squeezed your tired eyes closed, imagining someone was there with you, wrapped securely in their embrace, even if just for a moment. Someone there to calm your breath down, to protect you from the loneliness that stabbed at your weeping heart.

Whimpering, your legs rubbed together as a cold chill filtered into the room, creeping up your spine as goosebumps ran down your skin, the garment you wore doing next to nothing at keeping you warm.

Perhaps you should have kept the fireplace going.. An old, rusty oil lantern with a small flame could only do so much. Then again, it was more of a light source than a heat source, so you couldn’t really complain.

With a huff, you dragged the thick covers over your head, sealing in what little warmth you had.

It was like a warm cocoon, almost. A little bundle of protection. You could barely even see the flashes anymore, but that just meant the thunder would swoop down on you like a hawk, startling you every time.

But what else is one to do other than to wait out the storm?

The sun would rise eventually, just as it always has and just as it always will.

Since the beginning of time, the sun blessed the lands with a golden glow, shrouding its children in warmth and love. The moon was like it’s bitter sister, cold and cruel, taking away the light that led her people through her darkness.

Some nights she was merciful, and others- gone from the sky completely.

This night just happened to be one of those nights.

So not only was it violent, rainy, and cold, this night was also one without any true lights.

Stars were a blessing in disguise, their brightness concerningly dim.

At least you had your lantern and that dirty old katana your father left behind.

You were safe.

At least you thought you were, but a sudden cry bellowing through the night tore the thick atmosphere apart, sending chills down your spine and making the grip on your blanket as tight as ever.

What.. was that?

It sounded almost like..

Like a wounded animal..

Just then, a flash of light blinded your vision, a sickening roar accompanying it. The ground shook as you whimpered, eyes wide with fear.

A bolt must have struck close to home..

It’s okay.

Everything is okay.

Breath heavy and body shaking, you comforted yourself with logic- an old friend you abandoned.

An animal just got hurt, was all. Perhaps a tree fell on it, or maybe it got attacked by another animal!?

It might even have been that howling wind that acted up sometimes!

Everything was okay.

It’s okay.

Nothing to fear.

It’s just a storm.

Just a storm.

You’re safe.

You’re inside.

The light guides you, the charms protect you, the shrines embrace you.

You’re okay.

It’s just a storm.

It’s just a

SCRSSSSHHHHH!!

CRASH!

“AHHH!”

A blood-curdling scream tore from your throat as something suddenly crashed through your window, the loud sound of wood tearing apart and clanging to the floor was followed by a heavy thud and the splash of rain on your padded floor at the gaping hole given to it.

Screaming in terror, your frantic hand grabbed the blade at your side, shaking body scrambling backwards to the other side of the wall, pulling it from its sheath.

You were trapped, you had no exit!

The only exit you had was where whatever the fuck that is just crashed!

Oh gods!

You’re going to die!

This was it!

A fucking storm!

A fucking goddamn storm!

God, you were a fool!

Hyperventilation crept up on you like a venomous snake, its cold body constricting tightly around your chest and throat, cutting off your oxygen supply and freezing your numb fingers.

You were scared shitless, that was for sure, and all you could do was helplessly stare with wavering eyes at a large, haunting silhouette in the corner of the room. The small light, now seemingly miles away, providing next to no coverage of this massive figure, only gifting the room more horrific shadows.

You wanted this to be a dream, that what the elders warned wasn’t true.

This was just a nightmare.

A scary nightmare your mind conjured up like it always did.

Rain splattered against your sickly pale face, the droplets mixing with the burning hot tears that poured down your cheeks as you fought to keep a steady hand and to slide up the wall to stand.

Old, dull blade pointing forward, you couldn’t help by cry out as the dark figure moves ever so slightly.

A crash of light drowns out your sobs, swallowing the room in a dull white glow for a mere moment, enough of a moment to give you a glimpse of this creature.

You wish you hadn’t seen it, that you indulged in your ignorance for a moment, that you didn’t see the way large, black wings sprouted from the back of a human.

Horns glistened with water atop its head, long tail thrashing wildly as its body moved to get up.

Your breathing stopped the minute it opened its eyes, a vicious, glowing green staring off at the destruction it caused.

Heart roaring in your ears, you did nothing but stare.

It was as if your blood had ran as cold, for all you could think to do was to silently pray to the gods that everything would be okay.

That your life would not end.

That you would still have a chance to become what you were supposed to be, and not die a lonely child by the hands of a beast.

Suddenly, its eyes snapped to your own, wide pupils turning into menacing slits as it gazed at you with malice, an animalistic growl rumbling in its chest, sharp teeth that could easy rip your throat out on full display.

Blade slipping from your numb hands, black dots spotted your vision as you promptly fainted from fear, accepting death in its imminent wake as your knees crash against the floor.

‘So this truly was the end’.. You thought to yourself as you body drifted lifelessly in a void of black, fingers outstretched as if reaching for something that would never be there.

Death was always something to think about, the burning question always attacking your mind as to how exactly you would die. You figured you’d be mawed to death by a wild boar of sorts, tusks tearing through the ligaments in your legs, praying you’d die from bleeding out before its teeth dug into your skin, eating you alive.

Or perhaps you’d die as most women do these days, walking alone before you’re kidnapped by an enemy.

Death by what could only be described as a demon never truly crossed your mind despite you being warned by it.

It seemed impossible.

Why would a demon want you of all people?

Though, you were.. an easy prey.

‘I’m sorry..’ you whispered to yourself, hoping your words of sincerity would cross the plains of existence and comfort those you would ultimately leave behind, which wasn’t many, and those you were soon to visit. You let your eyes slip shut to close off the suffocating abyss, embracing death.

“Ugh!” you groaned uncomfortably as a bright light assaulted your closed eyes, dragging you from your sleep.

No.. was this sleep?

You couldn’t be too optimistic..

Turning over, your back promptly blocked out the headache-inducing light, bare arm coming up to rub the drowsiness from your eyes as you blinked in your surroundings.

Well.

There wasn’t really anything to look at since you were facing a wall.

More specifically, your bedroom wall. A simple, faded, dark wood design.

Humming, your fingers tap against the tatami floor, chewing on your lip as you struggled to comprehend the beating of your own heart.

Were you alive?

It was hard to tell, you didn’t exactly have an accurate depiction of the afterlife.

Oh boy.

If you were dead, your family would kill you again no doubt for dying so early.

Of course, you can never please your ancestors, especially if you don’t leave something behind to continue your family’s lineage.

Maybe it was a good thing that you were dead, actually.

It didn’t take but a moment to notice the unusually loud sounds of nature attacking your ears and the wet, earthy scent flooding your nose.

The rain had ceased, and the morning birds were singing their usual cheerful tune.

The delicate jingle of your wind chime could be heard as it swayed ever so gently in the wind, having previously been frantically dinging all night long.

At least you were welcomed with open arms to your afterlife, after promptly being murdered by some weird fucking overgrown bat demon.

Who knows, maybe it wasn’t a demon.

Demons didn’t look like that? No, they were much creepier, but it wasn’t like you had anything real to compare it to.

Grumbling to yourself, you ran a hand through your messy hair, finding the oily, tangled mess utterly disgusting.

You really should take a bath soon.

Does the afterlife have baths?

You would throw a fit if not, you need your weekly soak, even if the water wasn’t that warm.

You’d be damned if you didn’t get a minute to relax and destress.

But then again, is there even stress here?

You’d have to find out later, for now, you should stop staring at your dirty old wall like some sort of lunatic, give this whole afterlife a go.

Slapping your bare thighs, eyes sparkling with determination you go to turn around before promptly screaming your heart out as fright squeezed the life out of you once more.

Large, snake-like green eyes bore into your own, only a hair length away.

Throat dry, you flung yourself back against the wall as you fought to scramble away, only for this creature to follow your every movement as you pushed yourself into a corner.

All you could see was green.

Green.

The type of green that reminded you of toxic flames erupting from an innocents body as it succumbs to possession.

You swore you were dead, but perhaps you have yet to meet your untimely end.

“Please!”

You cried, tears pouring down your raw cheeks as your arms wrapped protectively around your head, “Please don’t hurt me!” sobbing, you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting.

Waiting was always a horrifying game, you never knew when the waiting would stop and when you could breathe again.

But death never greeted you.

It was odd in a way.

It was as if you were expecting so much, that to not be given it was even more confusing.

Lips wobbling, you slowly peaked your eye open, breathless as you noticed this human-like creature suddenly at the other end of the room, clawed fingers tapping together at it shifted nervously from bare foot to foot.

…

What the-?

“I-i’m so sorry! I, I must’ve scared you so much… I’m really sorry!”

You stared in shock as this… man fell to his knees, thumping his forehead onto the floor in an apologetic bow, wings bent and folded at his sides.

You were speechless.

Truly, what the hell?

Was this even real?

You couldn’t tell anymore.

This all seemed so questionable.

It was certainly what crashed through your home- of fuck!

Gasping, you finally got a good luck at the true destruction.

Oh, your window was completely ruined! Broken wood stuck out everywhere, even looking at it made you feel like you were going to get a splinter!

How are you supposed to fix that when you haven’t a coin to your name?

Fuck.

Wait.

Oh, right!

There was!

This creature!

What the hell.

Breathing heavily, you fought to calm yourself down as you got a good look at this thing.

Its hair was messy, mud, twigs, and leaves entangling itself in its thick, dark green curls. It was hard to ignore the two large black horns atop its head, locks wrapping almost possessively around them.

Pointy ears caught your attention, a strange earpiece dangling from one with an upside-down, obsidian Christian cross.

Of course, what mostly caught your attention were the two large black wings sprouting from its scarred back, a thin black tail idly swaying back and forth.

His cream-colored skin was wet with water, dotted with freckles, and littered with scars varying in sizes.

All and all, you were dumbfounded.

Eyes bouncing around the room, you looked for your sword, desperate for some sort of protection, something you could say you tried to fight it off with if worse came to inevitable worse.

Oh!

There!

It was only a few feet away from you, and do as you must, you slowly crept forward, crawling on your hands and knees, sneaking around in hopes it wouldn’t lift its head and pounce on you.

Unfortunately, you pressed on a particularly creaky floorboard, and its head snapped up, fear causing you to jump for the sword before shakily aiming it at the demon once more.

“S-stay back!” you warned with a wavering voice, though you knew for a fact you looked like a crying child who could do no real harm.

Eyes stared into each other once more, this time from a safer distance. You were just about to speak again when it spoke up, its voice a calmer and not as frantic, “You’re holding that wrong.”

“Excuse me?” you answered without a beat, astonishment lacing your words as curiosity rose onto your face, how on earth did this thing know that?

“You’re holding the katana wrong,” it pointed at your hands on its handle, sharp black fingernail catching your ultimate attention, “You shouldn’t hold it just at the bottom, you need to space your hands out more. You would not be a threat to anyone if you hold it like that.”

Was… was it seriously lecturing you right now?

Eye twitching with annoyance, you slid your hands into the position described, “Just like that! Perfect!” it smiled brightly at you, green eyes slipping closed as it praised you like a teacher to a student who did good.

“Shut up!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet, flames of anger igniting within your body as you took a step forward.

With an inhuman screech, its wings folded protectively around its body, “Ack! I’m sorry! I just wanted to help you!”

What is going on?!

This, this wasn’t! This wasn’t supposed to be happening right now, right?? It was just about to kill you!

Could you even call it an "it", it looks like a man!

Is it a man? How do demons work!

Why is this happening right now!

You couldn’t wrap your head around it, and it was beyond infuriating!

“Who and what are you!” you snarled out, surprise blossoming in your eyes at the sheer ferocity you just displayed, but annoyance sure is a force to be reckoned with.

Wings cracking open ever so slightly, and you can just barely see an innocent green eye peaking out.

“M-My name is Midoriya.. Midoriya Izuku.. I’m.. I am a.. I know it sounds weird, but I’m a demon..”

So you were right.

This is a demon, just not one you were used to.

Yokai was what they’re called here, red, devilish creatures that sought destruction.

This certainly wasn’t a yokai, surely, despite his cheeks being a subtle red.

“I mean you no harm..” he meekly whispered, unfolding his large wings just to put his hands in the air, defenseless.

You weren’t convinced.

But then again, what were you supposed to do?

It wasnt as if you were taught how to handle a situation where an animal crashes into your house in the middle of a thunderstorm just to be there the next morning watching you sleep like some sort of creepy stalker.

When life gives you lemons, though, right?

Well, you hated lemons.

Or, at least these lemons.

No, that doesn’t apply here surely. This is a man, not a lemon.

Regardless, you were stuck on what action you should take.

Caution was definitely one. Though it hadn't harmed you in any way and was looking pretty beat up itself, you couldn’t run the risk of being too trusting too early only to end up with your throat ripped out.

There, of course, is still the question as to how it was able to enter holy lands such as these, lands protected from such devilish creatures.

They were supposed to combust into flames upon entering, right?

Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath, letting a scowl settle onto your face as you glared at this ‘Midoriya,’ “Why are you h-”

“Wait, wait wait!” he suddenly shouted out, arms waving frantically in front of his burning red face, “B-before uh! You do whatever you’re going to do, c-can you..” words were whispered under his breath as his arms wrapped childishly around his head, averting his gaze to the side, “Can you fix.. your garments…? Please?”

Stunned, you gaped at him, confused as to what he meant. Fix your garments? They were perfectly fine!

Only, they werent.

To your utter horror, your loose robe had begun to slip, completely exposing your left shoulder and the top of your breast.

It probably would have been more embarrassing if you didn’t still have a bit of adrenaline coursing through your veins, so naturally, you nonchalantly fixed up your robe.

Izuku sighed in relief, arms unraveling from his head.

“Now, what was your ques-”

“Why are you here.” You repeated, wanting definite answers as to what the fuck a demon was doing in these parts, and why it crashed into your beautiful house.

Hell, a bird just flew in! It’s going to be unimaginably cold in here tonight!

“Thats a uh,” he chuckled nervously, eyes drifting to look out into the forest covered in morning dew as he lightly scratched at his cheek with that sharp nail. He shifted so that he was sitting with his legs crossed over one another, tail flopping onto his lap to no doubt keep his decency.

He was clearly naked. How had you not noticed this before?

Where you too caught up in your head to realize this entire time he was bare?

And yet he had the gall to tell you to fix yourself up? It was hard to tell if he was being a gentleman or a fool.

Regardless, you ‘d never seen a naked man before. Perhaps muscular arms at most as village men helped their wives and older folk about.

But completely in the nude? Bare chest, legs out? Never.

You’d have to swallow down that bubble of nervousness, ignoring the heat on your cheeks, too eager to hear his answer rather than get wrapped up in ‘oh god he’s hot’ thoughts.

“A long story..”

“Everyone always says its a long story. Stop avoiding the question, and answer it before I cut your head off!” You bravely declared, only for his viridescent eyes flashing with mischief to flicker over to you with a momentary smirk on his lips.

It was almost as if his face turned into the personification of ‘is that so?’ and honestly, you do not blame him for reacting in such a way. You didn’t even know how to hold this old katana until a few minutes ago when told you how.

He was obviously trying to hide that display of cockiness as he coughed into his tattooed fist, “Well, if you’ve got the time-”

“I do.”

“H-how much?”

Eye twitching with aggravation, you promptly sat down on your knees, the sun-warmed tatami mat beneath you offering some comfort to your chilled bones.

“As long as you need.”

It didn’t take long for him to spit out his story, having no real choice in the matter.

Apparently, he was an exiled demon.

Who knew demons of all things could be banished from the underworld?

According to him, demons were the incarnation of evil, bred from human hatred and misery, taught to become a monster who wreaks havoc on the innocent and guilty, but he was different.

Since birth, or his ‘manifestation’ as he strangely called it, he was much kinder than those around him. Pure and sweet, hiding it behind a mask of cruelty in fear of the banishment now bestowed upon him.

So here he is in all his glory, a permanent seal of banishment printed in black ink onto his left pectoral in the form of broken kanji and crescent moons.

It was quite a lovely mark, really, but to him, it meant lonely freedom.

But, who knew demons can’t fly for shit in the rain? Certainly not him. Salty water splattered in his eyes, blinding him after a loud crack of lightning tore a scream from his throat - which explained the cries of an animal in pain.

And so he crashed through your home, a scared animal.

It was hard to tell if you were lucky or not, considering the charms didnt work at all.

At least you had a reason now, the mark he was branded with took away his demonic possession.

He was more of a human now than a demon, powers stripped away, not that he used them.

The only problem was, he looked like a demon.

Horns? Check. Reptillian eyes? Check. Lare, bat-like wings? Check. A tail that looks like it could easily stab someone? Check.

Not to mention the strange tattoos under his eyes and on his left arm, something he was supposedly born with and which was unique to himself only.

To you, the intricate tattoo looked like a bunny ensnared in thorny vines on his arm, but he was quick to take offense before laughing boyishly.

You were absolutely stuck on what you should do with him.

Tossing him to the snakes and boars would surely be too cruel, but keeping a demon in your house?

How maddening! You were lucky no one came around these parts to snoop in on whats inside.

Though, despite it being absolutely ludicrous, you allowed it. That is, because of his promise that he’d fix your window. Heavens know you certainly cant do it yourself.

He was insistent that you should sleep in the dusty guest bedroom, a smaller room with a mere futon and window, lacking the furniture you had, as he stood guard at the opening at night.

Demons apparently didnt sleep much?

Lucky you.

And so now, by events you never could have seen coming, you have a giant cat looming over your shoulder.

It was hard not to let your guard down so fast around him when he was so.. innocent. So open and kind, always willing to help around the house, and always quick to jump away if he began to do something wrong.

His curiosity was truly adorable, though.

Most days he’d stare in wonder at something new with an awestruck expression, eyes sparkling as he’d take a brush and ink, scribbling down notes about it in a foreign language on a piece of parchment, even attempting to draw it. He would always ask you about it later, showing you what he had written down, and if you could answer, you would. He’d always thank you profusely before writing down what you’d said.

You couldn’t understand what he wrote, it’d always be a mystery, but it certainly was an intricate language.

The only problem was he was so used to being naked all the time that it was an embarrassing struggle to get him to not only get into clothes but to also wear them. The most he was willing to wear was a sash from as robe wrapped around his waist. He disliked the constricting feeling of fabric clinging to his body, slipping out of it whenever you got him dressed.

It really did give you the chance to actually know what a man looked like, that, as well as study him. He was littered with scars ranging from small, faded, fresh, large, it truly was a painful sight the days you decided to dwell on them.

He had told you a few stories already about how he had gotten certain ones, and most stories were ones filled with pride and determination, winning fights or protecting others.

Each scar held an interesting story, except the one on his neck, which was gained from forgetting he had sharp nails in a fit of frustration.

As you found out later that first day of knowing him, his wings and horns had the ability to shrink, not only giving him more mobility inside the house, but also taking away that spike of anxiety whenever you’d see them near a fragile object. Besides, their tiny selves were oh so cute, not that you’d ever openly say that.

And so, two weeks had passed, and there was still that dreadful broken window. Izuku had been kind enough to clean up the mess he made, insisting to do so after your intense interrogation, so it truly was an out of place marker of destruction now.

Its stay was to be expected, considering you didn’t have a replacement. No, you’d need to buy one.

Oh, buying. A poor man’s nightmare.

But as it turns out, demons are quite good at finding valuable things in the wilderness.

Or at least, that’s what he explained to you when he showed up one morning covered in dirt and mud, twigs all in his hair, boring an appearance similar to his first arrival, showing off a handful of silver and copper coins, as well as two golden ones.

In short, you were too busy drooling at the sight to care about how exactly he got it.

Travelers were often dropping coins anyway, so it surely doesn’t matter. Besides, his accomplished smile was far too sweet to tarnish with questions.

“You’re dirty, again.” you bluntly pointed out after thanking him for his find, pouring the coins into a small, worn pouch containing only two copper. Tying it up, you were quick to place it back on the shelf, hiding it behind a book of heroic tales.

“O-oh.. I didn’t notice..” he laughed awkwardly in that boyish manner he seemed to always have, large hands immediately going to brush off the caked mud on his legs and arms.

“Absolutely not, mister! I just cleaned!” Scolding him, you grabbed his wrist before he had the chance, glaring up into his surprised, foresty green snake-like eyes.

“If you’re going to shake your dirty little self off, go do it outside!”

At times, you acted more like a mother than you did anything else with him. But to be fair, he did come to this practical new world without any true knowledge of its customs, what you can and cannot do. Surely not making the house someone let you graciously stay in dirty was a universal thing.

He openly stared at you, innocent eyes glistening and wobbly lips reminding you of a kicked puppy.

Ouch.

“S-sorry,” he promptly apologized, attention snapping to your smaller hand still gripping his wrist, pink dusting over his chubby, freckled cheeks.

Sighing, you patted his large arm, picking up on the way it made his wings flutter, “It’s alright. Just go pat yourself off outside. I’ll set up a bath for you. I don’t need dirt everywhere in here again.”

Nodding eagerly, a bright smile overtook his face, showing off his unusually sharp canines.

Perhaps you would’ve been afraid had he shown them off in a vicious way again, but he was far too excited at the prospect of submerging his body in heated water to seem at all threatening.

You watched for a split second as he ran off, head instantly whipping to the side when he suddenly threw off the measly piece of fabric wrapped around his thin waist, tail curling around his muscular leg that you definitely haven’t been staring at throughout all this time.

You would have yelled after him for stripping if you weren’t so flustered.

You’d doubt you’d ever get used to it, seeing him nearly naked all the time. Artists were right to draw demons naked it seems, they truly didnt have any shame.

A blessing and a curse.

Grumbling, you began the long process of filling the metal tub with buckets of water from the well out back, igniting a small flame beneath it so the water would be warm upon his arrival.

Speaking of which, he was taking an unusual amount of time.

Surely you didn’t have to be worried, but it had been at least half an hour at this point, right? It doesn’t take that long to brush yourself down, does it?

Unease built in your gut, and you began pacing around the house, chewing anxiously at your fingernails as the old boards creaked beneath your feet.

He was very capable of handling himself, he was a fairly strong and intimidating soul, but what if he ran into someone? Your house wasn’t too far from the village, it was very plausible that he could’ve run into a hunter!

What if he was dead!

Oh gods, was he dead?!

And you had just put so much effort into running a bath for him!

Should you look for him?

What if he doesnt come home?

Maybe he’s lost?

Or stuck in a trap!

There were so many different possibilities, that your feet began to move on their own, the long sleeves of your kimono flapping behind you as you rushed towards the door where he had jumped out of, only to slam into a much larger and sturdier frame the minute you were about to exit.

“Hyah!” you cried out from surprise, being knocked backward.

Two hands quickly caught your flailing arms before you had the chance to land flat on your ass.

Looking up in a panic, you were relieved to see the familiar, warm green gaze of Izuku.

“Careful!” he was now the one to scold, playfully pouting his reddened lips. Breathless from worry and slamming into him, you jumped to your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.

“D-don’t tell me to b-be careful!” whining, embarrassed at the fact that you had been pressed so close to him, you adjusted your oversized kimono that had slipped ever-so-slightly at the rough collision.

“Mmm~ Be careful?” he teased, leaning down just to purr beside your flushed face his cold, dangling earring tickling the skin at your neck.

Smacking his shoulder, you let out an annoyed huff, only to screech a second after, blood burning your cheeks as you turned away so quickly you could hear the sleeves slap against his body, “Put some clothes on, damnit!!”

“I thought I had to be naked for a bath?” It was annoying how you could tell he was pulling your strings, no doubt his head was tilting as he batted his lashes at your smaller frame, like he always did when given the chance to be a tease.

Growling to yourself, you pointed off to the direction where the bath was prepared, desperate to escape from this trap you had set yourself in, “Then go bathe, you dirty, dirty boy!” At this point, you were on the verge of flat out shoving him into the bathroom, wanting to escape from his nude self.

You’d clearly have to start forcing him to wear clothes more, putting your foot down if he was to stay in this house.

You did not need a heart attack every morning at seeing a naked man waiting eagerly for you to awake, only for a wide smile to blossom on his face, tail thumping loudly on the ground and wings flapping like a bird when he noticed you blink your eyes open.

Of course, a pillow was always thrown at him, the plea for him to wear some clothes always on your tongue, but alas, you were lucky if he wore his piece of fabric, that flimsy sash you had half as mind at throwing away just so he would be forced to wear something else.

“O-okay..” his shy self seeped back in, his fingers visibly poking together, an anxious habit you presumed. Feet thumping against the floor, he traveled down the hall and to the bath, a loud gasp echoing down the corridor when he noisily jumped in, water sloshing. “So warm!”

“Please clean up your mess-!”

It was almost like dealing with a child, except this child was hundreds of years older than you and a grown-ass man, if that was a positive or negative- you’d never know.

It wasn’t until the next day you got him to fully wear a kimono, an old one your father had left behind. It fitted him, truly, black with green vines snaking down the sides and wrapping around the cuffs. It was a nightmare to get him in it, though.

Not that he wasn’t obedient, no, he truly did try his best to please you, but perhaps it just wasn’t something he could easily comprehend just yet, not to mention you had to somehow squeeze his wings into the outfit.

His tail was easy to hide due to the kimono reaching the floor, but thank god for hats because truly it was impossible to hide his horns any other way.

But the poor man was clearly unhappy, lips pouty and eyes droopy as he shifted from one foot to the other.

“They.. feel weird..” he tried to explain, pulling at the neckline, only for you to swat his hand away. “You’ll get used to it.” you reassured.

Grabbing the coin pouch you had placed on the shelf, you made him carry a sack over his shoulder, something to not only hide his lumpy wing covered back but to also carry the supplies you’d be purchasing soon.

It would be impossible to hide his facial markings, so you didn’t attempt. The thought of smearing mud on his cheeks did cross your mind, but alas, that would look suspicious. If only tattoos weren’t so taboo, and if only he didn’t have such suspicious ones.

Everyone in the village knew you, knew your story, and they knew you were alone. You had no doubts they’d ask who this mysterious stranger was, or at least openly gawk at him. You could avoid certain nosey fuckers, but at times it was unavoidable

Grabbing his sleeve, you led him out the front door, quick to slide it shut before walking down the dirt trail.

Perhaps you could say he was a distant relative? You didn’t have any distant relatives, so that would, unfortunately, be a bust. You placed your finger on your chin, thinking as you allowed your body to walk down the familiar path on autopilot, head in the clouds as you thought.

Curse these nosy ass people, already knowing everything about you!

Perhaps he was a traveler you found lost in the storm? Or he found you?

No.. that wouldn't explain the markings..

You needed to come up with something!

Grrr!

Oh! Oh! Wait!

“Midoriya..” you began, tilting your head curiously towards him.

His lips pressed into a thin line, already recognizing that mischievous glint in your mesmerizing (e/c) eyes.

Was that even a way he should describe them? Perhaps not, but he would be a fool to disagree with the statement formed in his head.

Gulping, he stuttered out nervously, focus shifting from you to the path in front of his wooden sandal-clad feet, shoes he wasnt too happy with, “Y-yes..?”

“Do you know what ninja’s are?”

You’re a genius.

“I, uhm, I’ve heard about them..why?”

“Mmm.. what have you heard?”

“Just that they’re skilled with a blade and sneaking around..” He looked at you dumbly, eyebrow arched as you only smiled back at him, adding to his own confusion.

“You’re gonna be a ninja, then.” You boldly declared out, catching his arm as he suddenly stumbled over a rock as he sputtered.

“W-wha?! B-but I- I’m n-not a ninja!”

“I know that, but listen! The people at the village don’t! I have no doubts they’re going to poke and prod at you, wondering who you are.. A ninja that stumbled upon my house in the middle of a storm would explain your sudden appearance and your facial tattoos, and Hell, even your eyes!”

Filled with a sense of victory, you grinned ear to ear, amazed at how you had come up with such a solution on the spot.

You truly were creative.

A gift, maybe.

Oh, man! All the village women are going to be so jealous! Always quick to say you’d end up alone, but boy were they wrong! Here you have it, a ninja demon following you around! Suck on that, widows!

Wanting to gauge his reaction, seeing as he went oddly silent, you looked over at him, only to stop in your tracks and have your arms go limp by your sides.

“W-wha…” face scrunching up, you stared at him, bewildered. He was pointing at his cheek, smirking at you, showing off the fact that not only had his eyes gained a human-like pupil, which now looked odd on him, but the fact that the markings now looked like smudged paint.

It was dumbfounding.

“What the hell happened to your face..” trailing off, you couldnt help but scratch at your head, running possibilities through your mind but coming up with no true solution.

“Demons have the ability to switch from eyes that can see well in the dark to eyes that cannot! I forgot about it until you pointed them out, to be honest! So thank you for that!”

He was smiling boyishly again, only to flush deeply as you grabbed his face, soft, small hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to your height as you examined his features.

“(Y-Y/N).?!” he squeaked, breath catching in his throat as you peered deeply into his surprised green orbs, face so close he could feel your nose brushing against his, and all he could do was stand still.

His hot breath was ragged as it fanned across your face, and though he knew you were examining the sudden change in appearance, he couldn’t help the way his heart hammered in his chest. You were so, so close!! He swore if he just.. leaned forward ever so slightly, he could.. Catch your lips in a sweet kiss. He glanced down, focus going hazy as he zeroed in the way your lips shined in the sunlight trickling just barely through the gaps of leaves above him, forcing his own lips to twitch in anticipation.

Would it be so bad if he, hypothetically speaking, kissed you right now?

Oh, what a thought!

He couldnt tell. Hell, he couldnt even think.

Your scent was so intoxicating at this moment, flooding his senses, and it left his devilish desires to want more, fingers inching towards your waist.

He was knocked out of his strangely lustful thoughts when you repeatedly papped his cheek to catch his attention.

Body going stiff, his hands flung back to his own sides before jerking his head up to look at you once more. Had you been talking to him? Did you say something? He didnt know, his attention hyperfocused on… something else at the time.

Your aggravated tone cut through his body like a freshly sharpened steel blade, noticing the way your face scrunched up once more at finding he hadnt heard you the first time.

“I said, what did you do to your eye markings?”

“H-huh?!” he stuttered out, only to internally slap himself as he took a moment to process the question, “I- I just.. smeared some mushed up black berries on m-my cheek..”

It was embarrassing to admit such a thing, especially considering his right hand is still sticky with its pigmented juice, droplets dripping from his fingers. He had half a mind to lick them up, sucking on the digits just to gauge your reaction as you watched him so intensely. No! Bad, bad Izuku! Stop that!

“I-I thought it could be.. like some sort of ink.. b-but I didn’t have any ink on me so- so I grabbed some berries..”

“Is that why you smell so sweet? I was tempted to lick your cheek for a minute there.” Confessing that, you ended the conversation by spinning around and walking on. Delays were never good, especially since you didn’t have all day, and you definitely wanted to sleep in your own room tonight. The guest one was.. a bit too stuffy for your liking.

He followed you, huffily licking at the juice covering his hand and ignoring the stickiness coating his lips and cheeks.

Next time, he would be sure to use a sort of paint or something. At least then it could be marked off as some sort of fashion trend and not actual tattoos. After all, what innocent man had tattoos?

Of course, for his kind, they were common and apart of your identity, but here? It was a symbol of bad luck it seemed. Impurity. Not that he wasnt impure.

“Walk faster!” You called back to him, alerting the green-haired man lost in his thoughts that he had been walking too slow.

“C-coming!”

It wasnt too long before you had finally reached the entrance to the village, taking a moment to look over the old wooden arch covered in vines before walking past. Your sandals, as well as his own, clopped against the cobblestone road.

Though it was early morning, and the sun was barely even awake, townsfolk were already bustling through the place. Kids were running around barefoot, doing chores or having fun, farmers were wheeling in their goods in squeaky carts, calling out for business, and shops were being opened.

Distantly, you could hear the crackle of a fire and smell the pungent scent of meat being cooked sweets being baked in the air, only making you drool at the thought of consuming something so tasty after eating home-grown vegetables for so long.

The village was dead silent at night but in the morning? It was warm and welcoming, filled with friendly, smiling faces and gossiping mothers as they hung clothes out to dry.

You swore you could even hear the light picking at an instrument and the barking of dogs far off on the other side of town.

Birds chirped happily in the sky, singing their age-old songs as they searched for someone to love.

It truly was a breath of fresh air, the friendly atmosphere far different than the much quieter one in the mountain.

You missed it.

You were convinced for a while the reason you stayed away so long was to quite literally teach a demon manners, but you were quick to regret your mistake upon reentering this world. The energy of the place stabbed at your heart, and your fingers itched with the desire to stay here for as long as possible. Perhaps even buy some bread while youre here. Heaven knows you need more ingredients, and with the jingle of the pouch you carried ringing in your ear with every step, you were reminded you could actually afford it for once.

Sure, cooking and chopping vegetables was alright, a fun pass time that brought you comfort and worth, but damn did you miss being lazy for a change.

Besides, you now had the manpower to carry quite a lot, right?

Speaking of, that same demon was currently hiding behind you, hands clutching at your kimono sleeve as his shy face barely peeked out from behind your head.

“Are.. you alright?” you asked hesitantly, worried that perhaps he was scared or something set off some sort of weird sixth scent.

“I-i’m okay..! T-there's just so many people around.. I’m.. a bit..” he trailed off, looking down at his feet once more.

“Shy.” you concluded, nodding your head in understanding.

This was the first time he would be around other humans besides yourself, so it made sense why he was a bit timid.

In all honesty, it just made him even cuter and less threatening, not that he ever truly was as you came to realize the more you got to know this fluffy boy.

That's not to say it didn't also fill you with a motherly need to protect him, or perhaps it was pride. Either way, your cheeks couldn't help but flush with him being so close, a reaction you still were trying to get used to, despite being up close and personal not ten minutes ago. Then again, that was on your terms, wasn’t it? This? This was certainly out of the blue. So it made sense.

Walking along, you waved to the occasional person, a plethora of “good morning!”’s and “I’m alright, how are you?” fleeing from your person with each minimal interaction. It was a blessing no one has yet to question who the mysterious stranger with dripping berry juice on his face was, but it certainly made a lot of people stop in their tracks and look your way.

How flustering… you thought to yourself as you pushed on, eventually grabbing Izuku’s wrist and pulling him along with you.

“The shop is just down here.” you told him, to which he nodded his head, far too shy to speak. Hell, you were sure he was close to chewing his own clothes from nerves at this point with that look of hesitation, fear, and child-like curiosity in his eyes.

It wasn't hard to miss the way his head whipped around, taking in the new environments with near open arms, visually studying each and every object he saw, but never asking a question about it, almost as if he was afraid speaking with glee and wonder would cause too much of a ruckus, attracting even more attention.

You had no doubts he would drown you in them once you got back home, or maybe even in a few minutes if something utterly mind-blowing caught his attention, but for now, you had to focus on gathering things.

You had eventually made it to the repair shop, full intentions on buying the wood needed to replace the frame, as well as a new window covering. It was old and damn near rotting off the wall anyway, it truly was needed.

Though it certainly was unusual to have such a thing in a bedroom where someone could easily break-in. But it was the mountains, so there wasn’t much to fear. After all, who in their right minds would wander a forest in the middle of the night just to break into a poor woman’s home?

Leaving Izuku to stay outside to collect himself as he shook like a leaf in the wind, you stepped inside the open shop, immediately greeted with the smell of freshly chopped wood and burning embers, a fire burning in the back no doubt. This was a supply shop for home repair, after all.

“Ah! Little Miss (L/N)! I haven't seen you in a while, my dear. Where have you been?” An elderly grandfather emerged from the back, hand pressed to the wall to lean against it. For his age, he was surprisingly in stable conditions, no doubt from the strenuous work he’d done all his life.

It was hard to forget that the elders here always had an eye open, so naturally, he would be the first to question your sudden disappearance when given a true chance. So far you’d only seen people your age and children out and about doing deeds for the older folk and earning their dinner.

Just as you were about to answer, you were cut off, “Oh? Who’s this?”

Not bothering to glance back, already knowing full well it was the curious Izuku who finally manage to swallow his anxieties and peak in, “He’s-”

“A ninja!” he exclaimed, jumping to your side excitedly as you huffed in irritation at being cut off two times in a row.

It certainly was odd that he spoke out so enthusiastically, considering he had been nothing but reluctant to speak the entire time you were in the village, but what was even more shocking was how he continued the plan of referring to him as a ninja.

A stupid plan you now came to realize, sounding out of place. You should’ve gone with a better idea and not have acted so cockily when you came up with it on the spot.

Oh, the familiar feeling of regret.

It was strange though, especially since you were sure he was against the idea in the first place, so why had he gone along with it?

Truly, you couldn't exactly care less. This was his mess now.

“A.. ninja.?” Furukawa, the old man, questioned, giving the both of you a perplexed look. “We haven't seen one around these parts since I was a but boy. What is a ninja doing here of all places? A meek little village like this?”

Oh. That’s right.

You had forgotten they didn't thrive out here in the country, but in the city and for generals leading wars.

What was a ninja doing out here indeed. Boy were you not bright when it came to thinking on the spot.

Leaning back and crossing your arms, you decided to let the excited demon explain for you, since you certainly hadn't a clue what to say.

“I’m here for no particular reason, sir! I had gotten lost in the mountains during that thunderstorm a few weeks back, and I just so happened to stumble upon the (L/N)’s home. I was lucky she was willing to take me in, for I had injured myself and needed time to heal. I truly owe her my life, for I doubt I would have been able to find a safe place to rest and recover that night if not for her generosity. I vowed to return the favor, and you know ninjas, never one to break a promise, and so I am here to help gather things to repair something I had broken. Though I’m sure we have bad rep around these parts nowadays, I assure you I have no intention of harming anyone. I vowed to protect the innocent, and that is what I will do! I’ll fight the evil of these lands with my own two-!”

You snapped him out of his rambling by gripping at his arm, surprised at how he had managed to come up with what to say so quickly. Hell, his eyes were even hardened with determination. He was very convincing.

It definitely made you suspicious of what his true intentions were, if he actually wanted to be a ninja of all things or if he was playing a part and not realizing the potential consequences.

Oh well?

What was even more surprising was how the old man wept, dramatically wiping his aged, teary eyes. “Oh, you good man! We need more men like you around here! My son is a lazy lump of bricks who won’t even help out around here”

“I am here now! Allow me to assist whenever!” Izuku stated righteously, fist raised high and mighty.

At this point, you were just a background character in some sort of weird show as these two practically danced around each other with declarations and tears.

Shaking your head, you quickly cut them off, needing to get things done today and not mess around any longer, “I was wondering if you had the material for a new window?”

“Oh! A window!”

“Yes.. I need a replacement for the one he had broken.”

“You youngsters are always breaking windows these days..” he complained, wiping at his brow before hobbling to the back again.”One moment please.”

Nodding, despite him not even seeing, you waited patiently in near awkward silence, teetering back and forth on your wooden heels.

“Did I uh..” the green-haired man's apprehensive whisper barely caught your ear, “did I go overboard, you think?”

That question was enough to bring giggles bubbling out over your throat, only for him to frantically wave his arms about in front of you, “I-i’m serious!”

Your giggles soon turned into laughs, only making his cheeks redden from embarrassment before he wrapped his arms around his head.

“Just,” you wheezed, “Just a bit, Midoriya.”

You weren’t used to being near people so passionate and enthusiastic about things, especially things made up. It was peculiar and yet it still brought a grin to your face.

Groaning, he looked off to the side, waiting patiently for the old man to return and to end his suffering as you continuously poked at his rosy cheek.

“I think you’d make a great ninja.” you whispered in his ear, breath tickling his skin and making baby hairs stand on end as you leaned over his crouched form, his hands resting on his knees as if to calm himself, unknowingly leaving him wide open for teases he deserved after what had happened the day before.

Gulping down the lump of nervousness in his throat, ridding himself of thoughts he shouldnt be having again, his head whipped back to look at you, eyes glimmering with excitement, “Ah, really?!”

You were unsure of how he would become one, but, “Yes.” you smiled gently, knowing full well already that he could do anything he set his mind to, a stubborn yet determined man he was.

“No kanoodlin in my shop!” Furukawa had suddenly appeared, damn near hitting the two of you upside the head with a stick.

You were quick to pay him for the materials, nearly tripping over yourself with giggles as Izuku looks nothing short of terrified with how the elderly man glared at him, no doubt piercing through his meek soul. Once you finished loading and securing the supplies in the shoulder bag, you grabbed two of his fingers before pulling him out of the shop with a friendly wave towards the grouchy old man who begrudgingly waved back.

A horse trotted in front of the both of you as you walked out, a loud wagon filled with hay creaking behind it as you continued on down the road in the opposite direction.

“That was.. nerve wracking..” Izuku sighed, one hand clutching the strap to the bag tightly whilst the other goes back to holding your sleeve, no longer cowering behind you as he openly gawks at the abundance of people strolling through the area, as well as eyeing up all the animals wandering about and making all sorts of noises.

“It was a pretty typical interaction to me,” you confessed, shrugging nonchalantly as he groans heavily.

“Are we heading back now?” he questioned, itching to beg you to let him stay if just for a bit longer. He was excited about being out like this, reading many stories revolving around normalities such as these. He had never experienced such a thing before, and it was thrilling, to say the least.

He felt as if he was on cloud nine, observing so many new things and being up close to other things he thought he would never get to see or touch, or, well, smell.

It was as if he himself was in one of the many books he’d read, skipping happily through each page as his wings twitched beneath the fabric with excitement, luckily covered up by the large sack of supplies.

He didn’t want to leave, but he would if you didn't like the idea of staying.

He could always come back with you another time, after all.

But damn did the prospect of going home at this moment dampen his cheery mood. Hell, he could even feel his wings pressed against him droop from inside the kimono at the prospect of doing so.

He was really hoping you wouldn't say yes.

He’d cross his fingers if he could.

“No.”

“Ah, well alright.. we can come back another time right?" It was as if he didn't hear you, too used to being put down and denied that happiness swelling inside his chest.

He continued to walk forward, head bowed down as he stared sadly at the rocks only to be yanked back as your hand slapped onto his wrist for the third time that day. He could get used to that if he was being honest.

He looked back at you, staring blankly as he tried to figure out why you had stopped and why you were giving him such a baffled look.

Had he done something wrong?

Said something wrong?

Or maybe his mere presence had annoyed you.

He hadn't the slightest clue, and he could only helplessly stare at you as he awaited a reason as to why you stopped, heartbeat hammering in his chest and fear squeezing his lungs, rendering him unable to speak.

You raised your eyebrow in question, and that's when it hit him like a rock.

You had said no, not yes!

Oh geez!

That sounds so backwards honestly!

“A-ah! I’m sorry! Oh, I thought y-you said yes!” he screeched, fumbling over his words and inwardly fighting himself at being so stupid.

He was about to go on and ramble out an apology, his nerves strangling him alive, but you had easily cut him off, “It’s alright, don’t worry about it, okay? We’re going to stay out and about for a bit longer. I wanted to show you some things, and get some ingredients if you don’t mind?"

Not that you would really give him the option to mind, besides- you knew that far off look in his eyes too well, it was the same look of wonder in your own eyes when you were a child.

It truly was endearing, you couldn't help but want to indulge in it for a bit, even if you were going to be doing other things anyway.

To hell with putting the window up this evening, perhaps the next. For now, you just wanted a break from having to train a demon by- well. Informing one instead.

“Really!” he exclaims, face immediately lighting up, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled. He's suddenly jumping for joy, shoes making a loud clacking noise that catches the attention of village-folk once again, much to your introverted horror. “Y-you have places you want to show me!? O-oh gosh! Can we go see them now? Oh, there are so many things I want to see here! So many things I’ve read about!”

“Midoriya..” you called out to him hopelessly, wanting to calm him down.

“I want to see a bakery!! To- to smell the freshly baked bread and pastries! I can smell them right now,” he sniffed at the air, eyes slipping closed for a second, tongue poking out as he drooled, “they- they smell so good! I’ve always wondered how they mix ingredients together and fire them to make something so delicious.. How do they know what ingredients to use? How did they find those ingredients? I want to know! Do they memorize how to do it, you think??! And, and a blacksmiths shop! Swords are forged from fire, it sounds so magical, but there must be logic of some kind behind it! Logic I don’t quite understand yet but want to! I want to see it in action, know how they’re made in the first place. It’s from melting rocks right? Or, or metal?! How do they shape the swords? Which material and technique is best to use for the best result? Is that loud banging the making of swords right now? Or something else?”

“Midoriya…”

“Is there a library around here? No, no I guess there wouldn't be one here.. books? I want to know all about the culture of these lands, in more detail! I, I want to see how people's minds work, how they write their feelings or facts down on pages. You can learn a lot from a person based on how they tell a story, you know! Oh! And I also-!”

He excitedly jabbered on, drawing laughter and gleeful smiles from the people as they passed, only fueling to the heat on your cheeks as they whispered about the cute, excited man rambling on about different aspects of regular life. It was almost too much to understand or even comprehend, let alone answer all in one go. His words were flying over your head from how fast he was speaking.

And so, you simply stood there, off to the side of the road, wringing your hands together as you let him express his pure delight with an abundance of words.

He was a curious person like you’d thought to yourself before, that was for sure.

It got to the point where you were sure nearly five or so minutes had passed, and you didn't want to see how long this could go on for.

Because you knew it could go on for a long while, having been with him for a few weeks now.

It was a loveable habit of his, one that he always was quick to shut himself up for and apologize profusely, which always pulled at your heartstrings. He had clearly been put down in his past for being so wild, curious, and excited, and that was nothing short of saddening.

You didn't want him to feel like he couldn't talk, or ask questions, hell, even be enthusiastic like he always was. It brought a hint of sugar and spice to your plain life.

So, perhaps another time, but in front of a multitude of onlookers, ready to prod into your lives from how hard they were staring? Absolutely not, unfortunately.

Grabbing his sleeve, you yanked at his, successfully pulling him from his thoughts as his focus snapped over to where your hand was, “Huh?” he asked obliviously, turning to look at you with a tilted head but still cheery smile, green bangs brushing over his eyebrows, making you want nothing more than to sweep them away from his face.

Physical contact, as you learned, was always a better way to get him to focus rather than to snap him from his thoughts with words of your own. Words always made him flinch back and shut himself off, but soft touches somehow never did, keeping the same energy he started with even as he looked at you with wonder. It would often make you wonder why he flinched, or reacted in such a heartbreaking way whenever you’d cut him off with your own words, perhaps an untold story from his past waiting to be unraveled or kept under lock and key. Some things were best not to remember, after all.

Though he told you he was happy to be gone from the place he never truly considered home, you still held some minor doubts.

It was always the kind ones who smiled the brightest like a star in the sky that had the most to hide.

“Do you want to go and experience some of those things that you mentioned? I’m pretty hungry myself, so we could try a bakery right now if you would like? The one here is owned by a nice family, recipes passed down for generations. They got a pretty good grasp of things”

His brows quickly flew up, momentary shock flashing in his eyes before being covered by embarrassment, he had just now realized he rambled on. A momentary delay it seemed.

“S-sure.. eheh..” he chuckled nervously, hand squeezing the bags strap tightly once again as he used his other hand to wrap around his torso. He certainly was bashful for someone who was ‘bred from darkness’, if that red on his cheeks and how he avoided eye contact were anything to go by.

“Let’s go, then.” placing your hand on the much larger one glued to his side, you slowly peeled it away before gingerly holding it, ignoring the stuttered gibberish that trickled from his mouth at the action as you led him to the place that made saliva drip from his mouth.

At the end of the day, you were walking home on sore feet, arms clutching at a flimsy woven basket someone graciously gave you for free containing foods you needed to stock up on.

Izuku, on the other hand, was practically skipping, words flowing from his lips like a waterfall as he reviewed what he learned today, occasionally looking over at your tired form to make sure you were alright. He had offered multiple times to carry the basket, even going as far as trying to grab it, but you refused, wanting to do so yourself since he was now carrying a basket and a bag of his own.

Stubborn, ironically, was the way he described you with a pouty lip, and you had to agree.

It truly was a shame you weren't able to put the new window today, considering you wanted to sleep in your own room, but there was always tomorrow. For now? You were exhausted.

So much so you weren't even sure you could cook dinner.

Demons sure did have a lot of unrelenting energy. You were being dragged around all day, only leading a few times to the places you wished to show him- you didn't even get to show him everything due to his mind moving faster than either one of you could keep up.

Once making it back to the house, you managed to convince the energetic guy to at least continue wearing his hakama after he threw off his hat and the top of his kimono, successfully freeing his wings.

Things on the floor, he gets on his hands and knees, stretching his arms and back out like a cat, his wings flapping out like a birds as he flexed the poor things.

It was horrible how he had to stuff them in his clothing all day, and it truly did make you feel bad, knowing he must have held a form of discomfort all day, hiding it seamlessly.

Perhaps you could buy more clothes for him next time, or even fabric to weave together a kimono made solely for him.

That would take a long while, but it would be cute, right?

You didn't want him to be uncomfortable in his own home.

You stopped in your tracks as this thought crossed your mind, a perplexed expression making its way onto your tired face, when had you started referring to this house as his home as well?

Had you grown so accustomed to him already that when thinking of this place, or where he lives, this old house comes to mind?

Or did your loneliness fight your conscious to bring forth such a thought out of comfort?

For the first time in years, you weren't alone. You haven't thought much about it until this moment and in a tired state of mind no less.

It was confusing, especially considering you didn't even know when you had started picking up the habit.

Looking back at him, your mouth fell from its straight-lined self to that of awe, your eyes reflecting the same thing.

The golden rays of a honey sunset dripped in through the open door, illuminating the man covered in scars, freckles and tattoos from behind, kissing at his soft, smooth skin and wrapping him in a cocoon of ease and light as he sat there, bathing in the warmth it provided.

His eyes were closed, wings relaxed and hands resting on his thighs as he took the moment in, inhaling deeply as a breeze filtered in, making his curls sway ever so slightly in a mesmerizing way.

Despite what he was or what he used to be, only one word came to your mind as you gazed at hi, ‘angelic.’

You couldn't find it in yourself to be afraid, for all you saw at this moment was a smiling man happily enjoying himself after a long day of bouncing off the walls.

You couldn't stop staring, even if it was rude, his presence enrapturing in the sweetest of ways.

You felt your own body warming at the sight, an innocent blush dancing on your cheeks, only to deepen as his eyes fluttered open, scanning the room, just to fall on you.

His pupils were back to their familiar, snake-like state, but yet they held so much compassion and kindness as if they were just as human as yours were, despite being entirely different.

Neither of you said anything, just staring into each other’s eyes in a way that should've felt weird or awkward.

But nothing about this felt awkward, in fact, it felt natural.

Like you were meant to be entranced by those addicting pools of green, glimmering with the yellows bouncing off the walls just to show your own silhouette in them. It was like staring into a never-ending forest with vines that wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a secure hug, branches of trees filled with fresh leaves swaying in the calming wind behind you as the scent of salt from the creek not too far away made you relax in their embrace.

You weren't aware how long the both of you stared at each other, but one thing was for sure, neither of you minded it, his own smile and reassurance in his gaze is enough to wash away any concerns.

The sudden loud calling of a bird snapped you out of your trance, attention flickering to the door just to see two birds chatting with each other.

“(Y/N)?” he had called out, voice laced with concern but dripping with sugary sweetness and desperation that was all too much to handle after such an intense moment, despite it just being eye contact.

But then again, the eyes were the doorway to the soul, weren't they? And it felt like much more than just that.

Regardless, you turned, ignoring his calls as you rushed to your room, hurriedly closing the door just to slide down it.

Hand clutching at the fabric above your beating heart, you just now noticed how your breath was caught in your throat, and how your heart was hammering wildly.

You breathed heavily, running fingers through your wild hair as you fought to make sense of what just happened.

The truth was, you didn't know.

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x you #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #bnha #izumonth collab #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academi #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha deku #x reader #izuku midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #midoriya x you

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ab1tofsp1ce · 3 years ago

Text

A Warmer Refuge

CHAPTER 3: Exactly Like Mine

Masterlist HERE

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 3K

Warnings: Bit of angst and fluff, mentions of blood, wounds and old scars (not SH)

Description: If you’re going to repair this ship and get off this planet, you’ll need to find new parts. And that means a long hike...

I’d never stared at something as intensely as I had that fire, a desperate bid to keep my eyes open. The Mandalorian had disappeared, breaching the edge of the forest behind us to collect firewood. Behind the fire, I watched the sunset in my peripheral vision. This planet was gorgeous. Although, in all honesty, it was the first new planet I’d ever visited, and I’m sure I would’ve found it beautiful no matter what it looked like. The spot where we had landed was at a higher altitude than we had initially noticed, and that gave a perfect view of the land around us. Rugged and mountainous bathed in an orange glow, with tall dark trees and a soft, cool breeze that smelt clearer and sweeter than anything I had ever inhaled. We were lucky to have found the place we had; fortunate not to have had to crash-land into an area less forgiving. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind snapped me out of my thoughts. The Mandalorian threw down the pile of logs he had been carrying to my left, picking up a couple and adding them to the fire. Since the central temperature regulator and the lights were no longer working inside the ship, we were far better off out here. He settled down on a log to my left that I had shifted over for a makeshift seat. His helmet flickered, reflecting the warmth of the fire on the cold beskar metal. He simply stared into it, just as I had been doing moments before. I wondered if he knew I was staring at him right now because surely the field of vision in that helmet was sub-par at best. “Tomorrow,” he said suddenly, “we’ll leave at daybreak. I managed to find out a little more about this planet from what worked of the navcom. It’s called Utaran. Sparsely inhabited on this side of the planet, but there is some civilization about a day’s walk from here, fortunately.” “Is it – but we’re not too far from Kistern, are we?” He scoffed, his shoulders moving slightly. “If only.” Fantastic, I thought. As if I hadn’t had enough troubles in my life, now I’m trapped on a foreign planet with a bounty hunter. I felt my stomach rumble in protest, reminding me not to forget about it. In my rucksack at my feet, I rummaged around until I brought out a small bread roll, which was fortunately only partially stale. As I began to rip pieces off and eat them, I became acutely aware of the sensation I was being watched. But as quickly as I threw a glance up at him under my eyebrows, he was staring back down at the fire. “Do you not have any food?” I extended my hand that held a piece of the roll. “I’m not hungry. But… thank you.” I frowned. “You haven’t eaten in…”. I realized in that moment that, in fact, I hadn’t seen him eat at all. “Seriously, take some.” “I have my own, and I’m fine.” He didn’t return my gaze. I hesitantly retreated my arm, pondering as a stared down at the piece of bread. How could he not be hungry? It was almost… inhuman. “Are you human?” I blurted out. Fantastic, I thought, as his head snapped around to face me in what I imagine was a surprise. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I felt pinned to the spot by his stare. “Well… you don’t eat, or drink… you sleep with all that armor on… if you even do sleep.” I could’ve sworn I heard a chuckle, barely audible through the modulator of his helmet. Surely not. A Mandalorian laughing? He shook his head gently, clearly at least somewhat amused, and turned his head back to the fire, apparently not seeing my question as worthy of indulging. Embarrassed and mildly disheartened, I focused my attention back on my stale bread. A few moments went by in this relative silence, and it was just as the sun had dipped below the distant mountains when he replied so softly it took me a second to recognize his voice. “I was human. Once. Many years ago, before I swore the Creed. Sometimes I forget what it was like.” Something fluttered in my heart. If I wasn’t so moved by his tone, I would’ve been taken aback by his abrupt vulnerability. I paused. “So, what are you now?” He was staring down at his leather gloves, fondling his hands slightly as he thought. “A Mandalorian.” “Surely a human still,” I said softly. “With a heart, and a voice…”, I paused, wondering if it would be too much. But curiosity was getting the better of me. “…and a name.” A moment of silence lingered in the air. “Not anymore.” He didn’t look up at me. I thought I heard a crack in his solid voice. “You… you don’t have any name? Why?” I hoped my tone didn’t sound too pitiful. But maybe it did, because he seemed to straighten up at these words, staring at the ship that sat not far from us. “This is the Way,” was all he said, before standing up. I felt my chest grow tight, guilty that I may have driven him off suddenly through my prying. I watched him walk over to the ship and up the ramp, the sound of those last words echoing in my head.

At dawn, we began our trudge to civilization. The Mandalorian gave me a choice as to the way we got there; quick or easy. Well, technically, he didn’t actually offer the choice. It was only when he mentioned that we would be going around the mountain and not over it that I questioned him. “It’s too hard of a hike,” was all he said, rather curtly too, not looking up from the navcom in the ship’s cabin. I felt myself go a little stiff at the underlying patronization of his tone. “For your information,” I said, firmly, “a mountain here is still a mountain, and I’ve climbed plenty in my life.” He didn’t look up at me, and only muttered, “fine.” For some reason, the way he said it ruffled my feathers. Last night was the most human he had been, and now it was back to how it was – like that conversation had never happened. Actually, no. It was worse. For whatever reason, his coldness stung more now than it did before. In fact, three days ago I almost welcomed it, coupled with the chance to stay as far removed from him as possible. But now, as quickly as he had seemed to be shedding a small piece of that impenetrable armor, he’d put it right back on this morning.

The mood didn’t improve as we began our journey. The more aloof he behaved, the more I noticed myself returning the favor. Once again, I walked ten feet behind him, my eyes trained to the ground in determined reserve. What was his deal? Why was he suddenly so distant towards me? What had I done to deserve this? But, then again, what else had I expected? He is a Mandalorian, after all. A murderous, lone bounty hunter. And, more to the point, why did I care? Why was I so bothered by this treatment? I didn’t know him; we only had an alliance thinly veiled through an acquaintanceship. A contract. I meant nothing to him beyond that, and he meant nothing… he… I stewed away in my thoughts like this for some time, and the more I did so the increasingly more frustrated and agitated I became. It was only so long before I would burst. “How much further?” It had sounded more like a demand than a question, which I had not intended despite my tone being laced with annoyance. We had been walking for hours now, and although I assumed it was still the middle of the day, the sky had clouded over since our departure and, between that and the trees, very little light was filtering down to us. “Further,” was all he said, not indulging in my pushing and prodding. This only annoyed me more. I wanted a reaction out of him. No, that wasn’t the truth. I wanted an explanation. I wanted… I let out an audible groan. Truthfully, it hadn’t been my intention, but I could feel it all pressing on the sides of my brain. The Mandalorian abruptly stopped, although did not turn to face me. Not fully, at least. He only looked down to his right, possibly side-eyeing me under that helmet. “If you’ve got a problem, you're more than welcome to wait at the ship.” There it was again. I could feel my blood boil at that tone. Patronizing. Like I was a child. “Oh, so suddenly you don’t need my help?” He turned around and put his hands on his hips to regard me. If I wasn’t so furious I would’ve been a bit embarrassed. I’m sure, in all honesty, that I did look like a child – my arms crossed on my chest, my weight shifted to one leg and an eyebrow raised. “Enlighten me on what help you are to me right now.” “Well, answer me this,” I snapped. “Do you know what parts you need to get? Or what parts to get if those aren’t available? And will you be able to fix that ship on your own? Because as I remember you were the one who asked me to fix it.” “If you’re going to be a child, I’ll treat you like a child and escort you back to the ship.” His voice had a snarl to it through the modulator. “I’m not a child!” I yelled. I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be at home, with my grandparents and my brother in my carousel on my own planet. I would’ve even taken the sandy tent on the outskirts of Yemi’natar over this. Why did I agree to this? I’ve made a terrible mistake. I’ll never return home, and I’ll have to live my life on a foreign planet as a straggler. Or worse, I’ll be stuck in this stupid, endless forest with this cruel bounty hunter for the rest of my existence. We must have stood there for a few seconds just glaring at each other, drops of rain beginning to fall from the sky. As I stared at the small slit of a visor in his helmet, I couldn’t even imagine what he looked like under it. I couldn’t imagine a person under there, only the cold, shiny, lifeless hunk of metal that stood in front of me. The Mandalorian from last night felt like a million miles away. Before I could even think, I found myself spinning on my heel and marching back down the mountain. Screw this and screw him. I didn’t want to be near him, I just wanted – Suddenly, I felt my legs give way underneath me. Blinded by anger, I had misplaced my step and fallen, and I yelped as my leg scrapped against a jagged rock on my right. My hands cushioned the fall at their expense, stinging as they came into contact with the ground. I just sat there pitifully, rain beginning to ring down around my ears, soaking my hair. My eyes welled up, but not from the pain. I stared at the scar on my left hand, that snaked from the knuckle of my middle finger to my wrist. I had been cooking with my grandmother many years ago and had cut my hand stupidly with the knife – I had been waving it threateningly at my brother. My grandmother sat me down at the table, slowly bandaging the cut as I sniffled and sobbed quietly. “There there, musqarza,” she had murmured softly. “It will be a scar, nothing more.” “A scar?” I had protested. “But my beautiful hand…” “Think of it as your first tattoo,” she said, fastening the bandage and collecting my face with her hand to gently look me in the eyes. “It is a reminder of your family. And a reminder not to chase your brother with a knife.” I had giggled slightly through my tears, which she wiped away with a kind smile. Drops of water, and possibly my tears, now drenched that hand and the scar. I let out a sob, shivering from the cold. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a pair of boots stand next to me, and a hand gently grabbed my arm, shooting a bolt of electricity through it. “Don’t touch me!” I hissed through gritted teeth, and the Mandalorian conceded. He didn’t say anything, just crouched next to me in silence as a sobbed. And we stayed like that for a few moments. “We should get out of the rain,” he whispered cautiously. It sounded so tentative and gentle, and I felt all the anger melt away instantly, washing off with the rain. I could only nod limply, not shifting my gaze from my hand. “There’s some shelter over there, under the side of that rock.” The Mandalorian placed his hand back on my arm, holding it slightly with leather-clad hands. He paused for a moment, then slowly pulled me up and, supporting my arm, helped me shuffle up the hill over to the undercover area of the rock.

I couldn’t even look at him. I felt so ashamed and flustered that I only sat curled up at the far end of the small cave, whilst he sat near the entrance, leaning against its wall and staring out at the rain pounding down outside. Rain trickled down towards me along the ground, making little rivers in the dusty ground. I distracted myself with this simple visual, using my bulky rucksack as a cushion. My hands still stung, but it was my leg that ached the most. I threw a glance at it and saw the red that was seeping slightly through the torn fabric. But I didn’t have the heart to dress it, and the pain distracted me from my thoughts. Eventually, I could stand it no longer. I let go of my tongue and muttered “I’m sorry,” under my breath. It was so quiet; I was almost certain he hadn’t heard it – particularly because he didn’t respond. Until… “So am I,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean to…,” but his sentence trailed off, and he didn’t seem to have the heart to finish it. Then, in my peripheral vision, I saw him stand up and make is way over to me. My heart thumped in my chest. I knelt down in front of me, and held out his hand, gesturing with the other to my leg. “We can’t have that falling off, can we?” I couldn’t help but smile shyly as I shuffled to let him assess the damage. Gently, with gloved hands, he rolled up my pant leg. He was so slow, so careful, that I felt something stir in the pit of my stomach and the air catch in my throat. “Do you have a med-pack?” He looked up at me from where he knelt. I swallowed, and nodded, awkwardly shuffling of my bag so I could pull it out. The gash traveled down from my knee almost as low as my ankle, gleaming in the dim cave and stinging slightly in the cold air. His hand hovered just above it, and when I looked up at him, I saw he was staring at it, as if in deep thought. Then, slowly, he reached up with his other hand and… pulled off his glove, dropping it to the ground in front of us. I bit my tongue to stop myself from gasping slightly. Although at what, I wasn’t sure. It was just a hand… calloused, cracked slightly, and olive in tone. The Mandalorian pulled a sanitizing cloth out from the pack, peeling it open and slowly wiping down the cut. I grimaced, trying not to make a sound. With the ungloved hand he worked so cautiously it almost didn’t hurt, and with the other he held my leg from the back to support it. I was transfixed. I began to picture what he looked like, right now, under that helmet. I could imagine his expression; a slight frown of focus, eyes pin-pointed on his work. But what did he look like? I glanced at his hand again to remind myself. It wasn’t much to go off, but my mind began spinning as my attention turned back to the helmet. I pictured warm eyes, full lips, brown hair. His hands stayed rested on my leg, even though the bandage had been applied. I hadn’t even noticed he’d done it. There we sat, my eyes on his face, his staring at the ground. I wanted… I reached out, my hand resting on the cold metal of his cheek. Slowly, the Mandalorian looked up at me and we stayed there, eyes locked together and hands on each other. I didn’t know what to do, but there was something sad in his gaze, even though I couldn’t see it. And then I realized something. “You’ve never taken this off, have you?” “I did,” he said. “And because of that, I never should have put it back on. But I… I don’t know how to live any other way. I can’t remember who I used to be, or who I would be now if I never put it on.” I listened, studying him. His face was downturned slightly, as if ashamed; like he couldn’t look at me. I sighed, trying to find a way to phrase the thoughts in my racing mind. “You’re more than metal, that much I know.” “Don’t know if I believe that,” he said, hesitantly. Almost fearfully. “Well, hey,” I said, reaching down to his hand. “I do.” I paused, my hand hovering above his. When he didn’t pull back, I rested mine on his. His skin was warm, like mine. Exactly like mine.

#the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fic #din djarin reader insert #din djarin x ofc #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine

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ethanharli · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing(s): Shoto Todoroki x Top Male Reader.

Warning(s): Fantasy AU (I think I'm addicted to it now-), Angst, Fluff, Cursing, Fighting (heavily detailed), aged up characters.

DNI; if you use she/her pronouns.

_______

When the forest came into view all I could see was blue flames, while smoke clouded up the night sky, shielding the moonlight and creating a erie darkness. A messenger bird was sent to me not long ago by my lover Shoto, he said he needed help but I wasn't expecting everything to be this bad. "Shoto!" I shouted, guiding my horse to the edge of the forest before hopping off, looming around the burning trees for a certain two-toned male. "Stay here girl" I gently patted my horses muzzle before walking past the flames, not caring for how quickly they scorched my skin, I could endure any pain if it meant I'd be able to find him. "Shoto!!" My voice boomed throughout the forest, echoing off trees and the ash covered ground as I leaped over fallen trees and avoided burning bushes.

"[Y/n]..?" My head snapped towards the sound of Shoto's voice, quickly speeding past the trees until I finally found his hunched form leaning against a charred tree. "Shoto- are you okay?" I spoke quickly, kneeling down in front of him to scan him over, his body is littered in cuts and burns with small patches of frostbite on his right side. "I'm fine, but you're burning" His eyebrows pinched together as he starred at me, looking at the burns on my skin that I didn't much care for at the moment. "Stop being stubborn for once in your life damn it, you're hurt! I brought some friends to help get everyone out of here but I need to get you to a medic" I carefully put my fire resistant coat over his shoulders and turned my back towards him, helping him hop on until I had my hands secured under his ass to keep him up.

"Let's get goin' sweetheart" I muttered out, feeling the heat of his left side slowly burn through the layers of my shirt as I tried to walk out the forest. Watching out for trees and burning ash, I was determined to get Shoto out as soon as I could, already feeling anger boil up inside me from the fact I knew someone did this, someone burned the forest and hurt my lover. I couldn't stop the growl from ripping past my throat, but the feeling of Shoto cuddling into my back eased away some of my anger. It was when I saw my horse accompanied by many others, that I let out a sigh of relief, quickening my pace so that I could meet up with the others, but I was just a bit to slow.

A tree suddenly feel in front off me, causing me to jump back to avoid injury, but my blood slowly started to boil when I saw a male with stapled scarred skin was the cause of it, "Leaving so soon?" The males lips curved into a devious smirk that pissed me off to no end. "Depends, you willing to move that tree you so generously knocked down?" I smirked back, loving the way I irked him, but I knew better then to get into a pointless fight, what matters is getting Shoto to safety. I quickly looked around the area and took a step or so back from the male, making sure there was a good amount of distance between him and us, but that didn't seem to go unnoticed.

"Y'know you're not leaving here right? Trying to run away is pointless" Ah, well that's what he thinks. Tapping into my quirk I felt the fire around me suddenly burn hotter as I leaped backwards into the air, getting a good five or ten feet away from the male before taking off into a sprint, my lungs began to burn with the smoke that filled them, my skin feeling like it was practically melting off as I dropped to my knees, carefully setting Shoto on the ground in front of me. With a pained grin I gently traced the back of my fingers along his cheek, feeling my heart swell from the way he leaned into my touch, "I love you Shoto, I always will" And with a pained chuckle I kissed his forehead softly before making a drawed out whistle, calling out to any big animal near by.

"Found you" My eyes widened at the familiar tone, turning around slightly to see the scarred male with his hand pointing in my direction, and in one swift movement I lifted my coat over Shoto's head to cover his face as I shielded his front with my body. But all I could feel was an agonizing pain when the fire made contact with my back, black spots slowly seemed to fill my vision but I fought back against it, trying my best to lift myself off the ground when the male had finally stopped his attack. I could feel the muscle and tendons on my back slowly repair themselves as I turned towards our attacker, spotting a wolf not to far away. "You put up a mean fight.." I chuckled lowly, slowly feeling anger flood through my veins like molten lava.

"Now it's my turn" And I let it burn.

In a quick blur I stood in front of the male, reeling my fist back before punching him in the gut, sending the male flying back into the charred trees. "Get him to safety, I got a pest to deal with" I growled towards the wolf, not even waiting for a reply as I darted towards the villain yet again, not letting him get up as I landed a kick against his ribs, hearing a satisfying crack as I sent him flying yet again. The adrenaline and scorching hot anger pumping through my veins helped me ignore the black spots clouding my vision when I walked towards the broken male, watching as he tried to stand but miserably failed. I couldn't help but laugh and kick the man onto his back, pressing my foot against the center of his chest so he couldn't get up.

"Y'know I kill guys like you for a livin' and you're not that good at your job pal" I grinned devilishly, not caring that I could be breaking his rib cage at the moment, I still fumed from the fact he hurt my lover. But it was when he raised his hand towards my face that I knew I'd eat my words, he sent a burst of blue flames towards my face before falling into a purple-ish black hole, but all I could do was scream from the pain that engulfed me. All that adrenaline seemed to fade and reminded me of the pain that I was being put through, but I just couldn't move. Falling on my back I looked up at the smoke filled sky, taking in one more deep breath before I finally closed my eyes.

I just hope he'll be okay.

-----

"Mngh.." I groaned softly, slowly trying to sit up, but the weight on my chest stopped me from doing so. So with what strength I had I opened my eyes and prompted myself up on my elbow, blinking slowly I looked at my chest, seeing thick wraps of bandages around it, but what caught my attention what the mop of red and white hair brushing against my skin as he cuddled closer into my side. I couldn't stop the smile from growing on my face, feeling a slight heat spread through my cheeks as I moved onto my side and pulled him closer to me, wrapping my arm around his waist while my hand gently ran through his hair. "Idiot, you should be in your room" I breathed out, taking in the features of his face before gently brushing my fingers over his cheekbone, feeling my face heat up more when he leaned into my touch, slowly blinking his eyes open.

"Mornin' sweetheart" Regretting the chuckle I let out due to the pain that pierced through my back and face. His eyes widened slightly as he leaned up and hovered over me, taking my face in his hands, it pained me to see the tears that slowly gathered in those beautiful heterochromic eyes. "Hey it's okay.. I'm here Shoto, and I'm not going anywhere" I muttered softly, taking his wrist in my hand as I leaned into his touch, the tears just seemed to fall after that. "You're so fucking stupid" He whimpered out, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his words, knowing he was right but before I could say anything he quickly pressed his lips to mine, desperately pulling my closer to him.

Placing my palm against the small of his back I did my best to lean up and return the kiss, not caring for the pain that spread throughout my body from the small action. He was the one to pull away from the kiss, gently tracing his thumb along my cheekbone before looking me in the eye, letting his fingers carefully run over the bandage that covered the left side of my face.

"You're an idiot."

"I know."

"But I love you too.."

#bnha shoto todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha todoroki #x male reader #todoroki x male reader #todoroki x seme male reader #x seme male reader #todoroki x dom male reader #x dom male reader #mha #bnha

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 4 years ago

Note

"Chasing Stars" fic?

TW: BODY HORROR (sorry anon but it's like really fluffy if you just ignore the demons looking demonic part)

Different first meeting AU! The Fall happens later while MC is already alive AU!

LONG POST!

MC is studying to be a professional (wildlife) photographer (I've explained why this is my hc before) and as part of a project they are staying at a friend's cottage in the middle of the countryside for a week or two during their break.

One night they see a shooting star, its exact path is followed just a bit later by another (they seem extremely close to earth), then there's two more, almost next to each other, going in a different direction. Two more going in two seperate directions and they're sure there weren't any reports of a meteor shower... The last one is so close that they actually yelp and try to duck back inside when it passes, burning a fiery trail. They feel the impact on the ground when it hits the earth, somewhere in the woods.

And then they're running towards it, their curiosity has always been their biggest weakness. They're running towards a big crater at the centre of a clearing, only a small part in the back of their brain notices the burnt feathers on the ground and the smell of charred flesh. It's only when they get to the edge of the crater do they realise whatever is in there is definitely not a rock.

Rather it's some creature. And their heart is pounding and they're pretty sure they're hallucinating and the smell of burnt flesh is now pretty hard to ignore.

It's vaguely human shaped but much larger. Its feet are sharp bird like talons, its legs are bent in such a way that it would not be possible for it to stand up straight without hunching and its hands are spindly and tipped with long white claws. It's got a pair of large, mangled, burnt wings with only a few white feathers clinging desperately to them. Its skin is burnt to the point of being a pitch black and they can see more burnt feathers along its shoulders, there also seem to be smoldering vacant holes along its sides and back. Its hair seems to be the same grey-white downy fluff of a baby bird and its body is covered in splashes of some sort of thick glittery gold substance.

It's facing away from them making a loud keening sound and trying to curl itself into a tighter ball. They take a step back, maybe to run screaming, maybe to check themself into a hospital, maybe to gather their wits before they lowered themself into the crater.

Whatever it is the creature stiffens at whatever noise imperceptible to the human ear that their step made. It slowly turns towards them. The flesh on the lower part of its face is burnt off showing a full mouth of long gleaming fang like teeth. But that's not what catches their attention. Instead it's the eyes, surrounded by what looks like undamaged human skin. Even with the slitted pupils they look painfully human and terrified.

The creature growls when it sees them, low in its chest as its back tenses as if it was seconds away from darting (not that they think it can).

And instead of running for their goddamned life like any rational human would MC is slowly lowering themself to their knees at the edge of the crater. Talking to it in a soft gentle voice, like they would a stray cat or rabbit that had been hurt/spooked.

"It's okay...look I'm not going to hurt you,,,,I'm going to - fuck what am i doing- I'm going to help you okay? I'm going to - going to go get my truck and some water and rags and we'll get you cleaned up okay,,,,,just please wait here I'll be right back"

Whatever it -he?- is it's definitely intelligent. It's still slightly snarling but they're almost sure it understood them. So they get up and slowly back away and then they're turning and sprinting. Loading the back of their pick up with blankets and pillows to make a comfy nest and grabbing their first aid kit and opting out of taking actual water they instead take wet wipes and food, a proper lamp and a bottle of water.

Then while driving (as we've established MC is v stupid pls don't ever do this) they frantically Google up how to fix broken wings and treat burn wounds also can birds grow up to be 8 feet? How big is an ostrich? What are the odds of an ostrich falling out of the sky?

When they get back to the clearing, the thing is still there and curls up into a tighter ball when it sees them and it watches them with suspicious eyes but it doesn't growl.

Grabbing some of their supplies they sit back on the edge of the crater and ask whether they can come closer. It growls. They sit back down and talk to it - him? - softly. They tell their name and ask for his. They tell him what they are doing here and asks what he is doing here. They tell him they don't have any living family and ask if there's someone out there looking for him. He keens at this and they immediately apologise. They tell him about the photos they have taken and roll the water bottle towards him. They are not sure what they expect but when he (despite struggling with his long claws) opens it with a practiced movement they aren't surprised.

They ask him if they can come closer, he growls and they apologise and sit back down. They talk about more things, stories and movies. They trace the stars and tell him any stories they know about them. They ask him if he's an ostrich. He growls. They laugh.

While their eyes are on the sky he slowly drags himself up from the crater towards them, they don't hear him despite how big he is but they do notice him out of the corner of their eyes. He sits by them and they keep talking, ignoring the heat radiating off him.

Softly he coos before placing his fuzzy head on their lap and for a minute they're frozen in place before he growls and shifts more until they start running their hand through his hair. They feel two bumps on the top of his head and wonder if he had hit his head on the way down.

Eventually with the sun just starting to peak out they manage to get him standing up, sliding their shoulder under one of his arms and hobbling over to the pick up. He's a lot lighter than he looks. They get him settled in the back and cover him with blankets and drive back to their cottage thankful that the small town centre is a bit away from them. They talk loud enough that he'd hear them the whole time

There's a bit of a struggle getting him through the door and when they (stupidly) go to fold his wings which he hasn't been moving much he rounds on them, teeth bared and arm up to strike. They both end up flinching and then he's ducking his head and not meeting their eyes and they talk him through it as they fold his wings, and wince at the pained whining sounds

They move all the furniture in the living room to the sides and put down two of the blankets and get him sitting in the middle.

They aren't sure what to do about the burnt skin, it looks beyond repair and somehow like any rawness from when they first saw him had healed into a hard thick layer, he also didn't seem to mind when they touched him. So again walking him through their steps out loud, they dip a rag in a bowl of cool water and work it along his body. The gold substance has dried a bit and flakes off when they wet it, it reminds them a bit of dried blood but there are no visible wounds/scars/damage underneath it.Whatever it came from, whoever bled gold, it wasn't him.

The holes along his body look worryingly like what they'd imagine empty eye sockets would look.

They card their fingers through his feathers, gently plucking out anything that's loose (it's most of them). After that they rub an aloe vera ointment on the places where the burns seem the worse. While they do all this he watches them as much as possible, but immediately turns around if they catch his eye.

The wings. The wings are a problem. They are frantically scrolling through their phone reading articles while a YouTube video about splinting a wing plays on their laptop but they have no idea where to start or how to splint it or with what for that matter and whether he'd accidentally rip them to shreds if they tried to and actually they're pretty sure he's watching the video on their laptop and huh. So they talk to him, they tell him the problem and they ask him if it would just heal like his burns did if they set the bone (maybe it won't heal properly but maybe at least it won't cause him pain - they tell him this too) and he's watching them with bright, considering eyes and they're spiraling a bit and rambling and then he's nodding his head and rolling his eyes and turning his back to them.

They set the bones and wrap them up as tightly as they can, he whimpers and whines and squirms but he digs his claws into the pillows instead of into them

Once they are done they bring the rest of the blankets and pillows to the floor (with his wings he'd be too big for the bed), giving him water and food (all they have is cup noodles but he doesn't seem to mind). After instructing him to sleep on his front they go flop on their bed and immediately lose consciousness.

Hours later (in the evening) they wake up and walk into their living room and SCREAM BECAUSE HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK THAT WASN’T A DREAM WTF WTF WTF WHY IS HE SCREAMING TOO

After their inevitable breakdown which isn't made any better because it happens simultaneously with his inevitable breakdown. They decide (the next day morning and fuck their sleep schedule is fucked) to deal with things one day at a time.

The next week is all about cute bonding and shenanigans.

Healing is an accelerated process that only takes a few days but it's not a complete job.

The burnt skin heals into a pitch black shiny sort of leathery skin, with the skin healed they can see white markings along his front and back.

The last of the feathers fall out and new ones start growing back in. Unlike the previous ones these are a shiny black and remind them of crow feathers, they come up all through his legs, at the base of his wings, and a few along his shoulders/arms. To stop him from scratching at them they use a warm damp cloth to ease the irritation (when they'd initially just given him the cloth it had resulted with a lot of grumbling and huffing on his part until they'd taken the cloth with a roll of their eyes and swatted at his head - they'd immediately frozen because wtf was that he could probably realistically eat them but he'd only responded with a playful shove).

The bumps on his head turn out to be horns, that he's constantly trying to get them to scratch at.

The sockets and the missing skin on the lower half of his face don't heal & they should probably be more disturbed by it but for some reason they don't see it as anything too strange, it's just another part of their odd impromptu roommate.

The wings take the longest to heal and their bare skeletal form now looks more like bat wings than bird wings.

By the third day the tips of his horns are poking through his head and they distantly wondered while scratching around them if he was one of those mix & match animals from Australia like the platypus. Part gazelle, part bat, part crow and part human.

Once he heals he has boundless restless energy and is always skittering around the cottage, knocking things over like some large cat. (Part tiger?)

They have to convince him to let them file his nails so that the floor doesn't get scraped up

He's always talking. Even if they don't understand him and his words sound more like bird noises it's still him talking. If they don't listen or look distracted he'll caw at them loud and angrily.

He's very clingy and very warm. By the end of the week they find themself spending more time in the nest in their living room than in their own bed.

They don't even notice that stuff has been going missing until they one day go to kick some of the blankets outta the way and end up stubbing their toe on something hard. Underneath the blanket is a little treasure trove of shiny things from coins to the caps of pens.

He comes along with them whenever they go out to the woods with their cameras.

He seems determined to survive on cup noodles alone and honestly personality wise they're pretty sure he'd pass for one of the guys at their college.

They're pretty sure they walked into him crying while watching Cinderella, cuddled up under the blankets.

Wherever he's from they had technology because they once spent a whole hour staring at him and feeling like they were living through a fever dream while he hunched over their laptop and tapped away at it. He got caught to many many scams and they ended up getting a virus but it was worth it for that single image.

They're pretty sure he has some kind of system with the crows because suddenly there's a whole flock of them visiting the cottage and sitting around it and leaving more shiny things for him to add to his collection. They feed them just to be on the safe side.

He has nightmares. Things that leave him shrieking and growling and sobbing. They press as much of him as they can into their chest and vow to protect this monstrous creature from anything, even God himself

They sometimes catch him staring at the stars. They wonder if he misses whatever home he came from.

He avoids mirrors or any reflective surfaces. Goes so far as to flinch away from them. They preen his feathers and call him 'Pretty Bird', he grumbles and huffs and mumbles something that they think probably means 'Not a bird!' they cackle and tell him he's the prettiest ostrich they've ever seen, he shoves them and they shove back and soon they're playfully wrestling on the ground. He makes sure to be careful of his claws/talons

The first time they realise his marks glow in the dark they nearly have a stroke

He ignores them for a whole hour when they laugh after finding out he is afraid of horror movies.

Their hands are running through his hair and scratching at the base of his horns while he is curled up around them, his tail (something which like his horns hadn't been there when they first met him and honestly they feel like they're missing some sort of symbolism here) wrapped around the calf of their leg. At first they think he is growling but have to stifle a laugh, lest he ignore them again, once they realise he is purring.

They call him Star purely because that's what they thought he was and he acts like he hates it but they've seen that small stretch of human skin on his face flush at it.

No one in town saw a meteor shower.

They're not sure what they are gonna do with him, not after their two weeks end but they know for a fact they're not leaving him

Both MC & Mammon are dumb af and don't realise how dangerous the other technically could be to them

One and a half weeks later there's a knock on their door and they're pushing him towards the back of the house before they go to open it.

There's probably the most beautiful man they've ever seen at the door and they're blushing because wtf.

He's dressed incredibly well and they're pretty sure they've never seen him at the town, they take a peak over his shoulder and there's no vehicle behind him. Looking closer at him, he looks tired with bags under his eyes.

"I'm looking for my brother" he says and they're blinking because they have no idea what to say to that. The guy almost looks expectant like they're supposed to come out and say that yeah actually they know exactly where his brother is. And they're opening their mouth to actually apologise to him when there's a loud noise behind them and the man's eyes drift past them and widen.

They're panicking 'cause they know exactly what they'll see when they turn around and when they do turn he's charging towards them and the stranger and they're yelping and jumping out of the way while screaming at him not to attack the guy wtf wtf wtf.

His body collides with the guy's and they both stumble out of the door frame at the impact and they are scrambling after the two of them expecting blood and guts. But instead their shooting star is purring loudly, tail wagging, clinging on to the stranger with a death grip and his face buried in the man's neck.

The guy is somehow managing to carry the whole weight of him and is clutching at the feathers on his back with just as much of a death grip.

Maybe one of them's adopted?

The man catches their eyes and his eyes glint red and his mouth twists in the beginning of a snarl but then their roommate is shifting in his grip and murmuring something and the guy's face is softening for a split second before it hardens again and he whacks the other over the head.

The two speak in soft murmurs but they catch parts of the man's words "Father", " Diavolo", "Lilith", "worried", "human body", "Wrath", " family", "Mammon"

He's nodding his head at the man then before disentangling himself from his (older?) brother and turning to them. He takes a few steps towards them and the man says in a warning tone, "Mammon".

He ignores his brother and walks up to them

"Guess your name's Mammon, huh?"

His eyes scrunch up in a way they know means he's smiling.

"It's cute. Suits you."

And he's blushing and huffing and they're looking at his eyes that are still so human and suddenly they're hugging him tightly and he's hugging them back and they're squeezing their eyes shut and burying their face in the soft feathers at his shoulder.

"I'll miss you, try to stay out of trouble"

He huffs again and squeezes them gently.

They open their eyes wondering what the hell they're doing standing outside in the cold morning in just their pyjamas.

They walk back inside the cottage which for some reason seems much larger and emptier than it was earlier. There's a large bundle of blankets and pillows in the middle of the living room and they have no idea when they did that, they try to kick some of it away and end up stubbing their toe. Under the blankets is a large shiny pile of junk. Were they drunk last night?

They finish the rest of their two weeks at the cottage. They clean up the blankets and spend the nights in a bed that remains freezing even when they turn up the heater.

They go through the pictures they took over the last week and a half. There's some good ones but none that stand out. Nothing interesting or special

They feed the crows that frequently come to their window.

When it's time to leave they get the biggest box they can and fill it with all the junk that they'd found under the blankets. The box sits at the back of their closet when they go back home

They manage to finish all of their studies during the next couple of years and somehow manage to cover all their student debt without any problems (their friends insist that they must have made a deal with the devil to achieve it).

They take freelance jobs as a professional photographer while they work retail part time. Somehow they always seem to have enough money to eat more than just cup noodles and they live in a pretty ok apartment.

They've also taken up driving away from the city to watch the stars during the weekends

Life is good. Normal.

And then one day they're falling, ass first, into another world and meeting the most beautiful man they have ever seen.

His eyes widen a bit in something like surprise when he sees them but it's gone in a second and then he's telling them they're going to be part of an exchange program between three different realms and he's hoisting them on his brother.

And then they're begging him - Lucifer, that's his name, Lucifer - they're begging Lucifer to take them instead because one phone call with this Mammon guy and he sounds like a dick.

But Lucifer's shaking his head and he looks way too amused.

Then a loud is voice is coming from behind them, complaining about being lumped with a human.

And they're turning around to get a look at the asshole who was now responsible for their life and he screeches to a stop in front of them.

Eyes -familiar eyes, so very familiar- wide and surprised and confused, the anger dissolving from his face as his mouth opens and closes soundlessly.

And then he's saying their name, softly, softer than anyone has ever said it before.

This is posted on AO3 along with the other fake fic outlines/summaries! The link to it is pinned on my blog, feel free to leave a comment cause I feed off that shit :D

#asks #answers #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #obey me!#shall we date? obey me!#swd obey me #swd mammon #om! mammon

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