#and randomly had inspiration with his new skin <3
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Etoiles the codebreaker and his immortal sword
#qsmp#qsmp etoiles#etoiles fanart#qsmp fanart#discodraws#I really liked that promotional art he had for the election ToT#and randomly had inspiration with his new skin <3
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Hi hi I randomly got this idea for a story inspired by your love for sunsets <3 James and Regulus looking at a view with a pretty sunset and James saying the views pretty while looking at Regulus? It’s totally been done before but I think it’s so sweet
Btw the pics you take are absolutely gorgeous!
Hmmmmm so I will do this (I want to I love how cheesy and cute it is!) but with one small tweak. Also thank you I run for my phone every time I see a glimpse of a nice horizon! Enjoy! with love
Sunsets (1/1) (jegulus)
It was a warm early summer evening. Regulus and James were walking along the waterfront, enjoying the last hour of light.
With a full belly from dinner, and Regulus hanging sweetly off his arm, James couldn't be happier.
They pair were laughing, swapping stories and gossip, just generally enjoying each other's company. And finally they found themselves near the beach.
James turned to Regulus, still holding his hand but now walking backwards in front of him.
"Pleasseeee," James begged, without saying anything else. Regulus of course new James wanted to sit and watch the sunset. He couldn't help but smile at him and give him everything he wanted.
James pulled him to a bench where they sat near the edge of the water. James warped his arm around Regulus and pulled him into his side. They stayed like that for awhile, watching as the sky turned from blue to red to orange and purple.
As the sun sunk over the water, reflecting beautiful hues of the pink dusk settling over the skies, James breathed in.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" James said staring out over the lake as the sun finally fell behind the horizon.
Regulus had missed all of the sunset. Instead he had been busy staring right at the most beautiful sun he could see, James warm skin and dark hair and every inch of him that loved so loudly.
And Regulus couldn't help but reply, "yes, yes it is."
#did i know i had an asks box? no#it's just fluff come onnnnnn#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#marauders#fanfic#lgbtq+#james x regulus#marauders era#regulus black#james potter#marauders fandom#regulus arcturus black#james fleamont potter#sunsetlovers
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Key I think you can help me. I’ve only just got into Thai BL . 1st being Between Us as it took over my TL and then Even Sun, 7 projects once upon a time (yes a Bounprem theme here) then cutie pie and love in the sky. But I’ve noticed that the leads are always normally paired actors? As in, they do a lot of work together in other roles/works too. Is this a Thai industry thing? for example I only knew about Bounprem working together and being close friends a lot but then in these other series other actors have also done lead works together before. Is this just in Thai BL?
Be interesting to hear if you know anything about this as I love that they pair up.
Awww welcome, Anon! \:D/
This can be a fun li'l corner of the internet, and I hope you enjoy your stay. <3
I'm not sure I'm the best person to explain this, but I'll do my best.
When I joined the fandom in 2020, I noticed the same thing, and the way it was explained to me was this: "The series are incidental. The actors are the money-makers." I don't know how much that's changed in the years since, but I'm willing to bet the answer is: not much. They make a lot of money off this system.
If you follow BL actors on their socials, you'll notice a ton of sponsored content. Convenience stores, skin products, plastic surgery clinics, bottled teas, snacks, etc. Essentially, if pretty man + product = capitalism, then TWO pretty men + product = Thai BL marketing machine fuel.
Take Boun and Prem as an example.
They were cast in Until We Meet Again in April of 2019. Boun was 24, and Prem had just turned 21. Prem was on the brink of giving up on the industry, and so was Boun, who'd been trying to land a major part for seven years without much success, running into shady practices and outright scams that deprived him of his pay. UWMA was basically their last shot at a career.
UWMA was produced by Studio Wabi Sabi, a relatively small agency/studio owned by New Siwaj Sawatmaneekul. He's not just the CEO, he's also the director. He has his own socials, and he's regularly in contact with fans and viewers on Twitter. When UWMA was airing, BounPrem fans complained to New that WinTeam were hardly in the series. And there was a good reason for that: they're side characters in the novel UWMA is based on (The Red Thread), and they had their own entirely separate novel where their relationship is explored (Hemp Rope, the inspiration for Between Us).
So why were WinTeam scenes even put into UWMA if they have nothing to do with the main story? Isn't that bad writing? It depends how you look at it. If you're judging UWMA only by its writing, then sure, WinTeam's scenes are randomly placed and jarring and, again, have nothing to do with DeanPharm or InKorn's story. Win and Team are Dean and Pharm's best friends, and apart from group scenes, their love story really doesn't belong.
But if you understand that the industry's strongest money-maker are paired actors, and that New and Sheep included WinTeam scenes to promote BounPrem to potential fans and entice sponsors to financially back the eventual production of Between Us, then it makes perfect sense.
Basically, that's what side pairs are for. I think of them as little "teaser trailers" within the series. "Oh, you like these two? You want to see them in their own series? Then support them on social media and trend their hashtag so potential sponsors notice them and give them more exposure."
When the pandemic spiked soon after UWMA finished airing, Between Us was announced but put on hold along with everything else. BounPrem were in a unique situation where they had their own series guaranteed, but they didn't have a main series behind them, so they were stuck in a horrible limbo for two and a half years where they were essentially dependent on sponsorships and promotional work to keep their "brand" relevant and in people's minds. They regularly talked about how nervous they felt about losing fans because of the long wait (especially Boun, who, again, had waited seven years for a break just like this).
They never knew when the pandemic would ease up enough that they could film Between Us without interference from the government, so they had to stick to bit parts and cameos in other series. But that's where being a pair really helped them out.
So, Between Us is airing now, and thankfully it's doing really well, so BounPrem's joint future is more stable now than it has been since I became a fan. Big sigh of relief. <3 They're also able to do their own solo projects now without fear of becoming irrelevant thanks to their pair work. And that's a very good thing, because Boun and Prem have very different interests, and I think it's very healthy for them to be able to explore different genres.
So yes! From what I've seen and been told, paired actors in the BL industry make a lot more money than the actors who go it alone. Which makes sense, right? BL is literally Boys Love, so it's, y'know, about romance. And the paired actors who tend to do the best are either the ones with natural chemistry (BounPrem, TayNew, OffGun, ZeeNuNew, etc.) or the ones who go in hard on the fan service ([redacted], [redacted], [redacted], if you know you know).
If you watched Cutie Pie, you'll know ZeeNuNew (LianKuea), and you may also know that they have another series airing later this year called The Next Prince. They're one of the most successful BL pairs out there with a ton of promotional couple work, and NuNew is a talented singer with his own line of songs that he's had produced, and Zee does other acting jobs in heterosexual-leaning series, aaand he's also one of the co-owners of Domundi, the agency they're both part of. Basically, they're a good example of a pair who've successfully diversified their joint and individual careers and don't keep all their eggs in one basket, so to speak.
Most of the successful ones are like that. OffGun (Not Me) and TayNew (Dark Blue Kiss) of GMMTV are BL Royalty since they arrived on the scene early, and their work in BL helped launch their current fame and various eggs in baskets. (Gun might be an exception, though. He was a successful child actor, if I'm remembering correctly.) KristSingto (SOTUS) were another juggernaut who officially disbanded recently since Singto's disembarked from the Great Ship GMMTV, but the two of them have scores of solo work (a restaurant, theatre roles, music production, etc.), and Krist is due to appear in a BL series this year with Gawin (Not Me, Dark Blue Kiss), a true delight of a man who's been secretly collecting BL Royalty Costars like a li'l acting sniper. <3
Basically, BL series promote the actors, not the other way around.
There are pros and cons to this system, of course. Series have been churned out like mad to capitalize on the BL boom, and most of them suffer from budgeting issues. Some have real heart that compensates for the lack of money, and those are the ones I enjoy. Even series with a major budget usually have tight postproduction windows, which means sound engineering problems or painful editing decisions. Amid all these series, there are are tons of BL pairs vying for a piece of the spotlight, and it's hard to keep people's attention as a newbie when there are multiple series airing at once.
Fan service is a thorny issue, but it's becoming less of an implied mandatory thing as time goes on and (I presume) fans are more and more vocal about not wanting actors to feel they have to flirt with their coworkers to remain employed. Some of them, like BounPrem and ZeeNuNew, are just genuinely like that, but that shouldn't be a requisite aspect of the job. They're actors, after all, and their work shouldn't extend past the set. (And there are many stories of actor exploitation in certain studios.)
However! I'm sincerely happy that actors work with each other on multiple projects. I was just watching National Treasure with my sister the other day and said, "It's a shame the leads in this didn't do more together, because their chemistry is fantastic." I also love it in movies from the Golden Age of Hollywood when studios had, like, their own stables of actors, and the same leads could get paired together more than once.
It's very hard to find two actors with talent and chemistry. BounPrem had chemistry from the word go, and they had raw talent, but it took them time to get to know each other and experience in other projects for them to get to the level they're at today. And it must be nice for them to have a partner to lean on when the industry is putting them through some heinous fuckery.
I mainly follow BounPrem, and Wabi Sabi (Boun's agency) and Starlatiz (Prem's former agency) have historically been very respectful of them individually and as a pair, so I think as long as that sort of respect is emulated, it can be a great system.
ANYWAY, thank you for reading my thesis if you got this far! If you have any specific questions, I'll be happy to answer them more concisely. :)
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I posted 4,998 times in 2022
That's 3,618 more posts than 2021!
87 posts created (2%)
4,911 posts reblogged (98%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@beacon-lamp
@passeriformess
@tmmyhug
@lancevoltron
I tagged 4,989 of my posts in 2022
#dsmp - 1,587 posts
#grian - 653 posts
#tommyinnit - 609 posts
#hermitcraft - 577 posts
#wilbur soot - 546 posts
#technoblade - 448 posts
#goodtimeswithscar - 432 posts
#fave fave fave - 363 posts
#double life - 345 posts
#ranboo - 293 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#you know that post about how even though a concept may be done a million times it's still unique because everyone has their own spin on it?
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
absolutely in love with Scar telling Mumbo he can have as many diamonds as he wants from his pillar and bringing him not one, but four shulker boxes full of goodies and building materials like Mr. Jumbo you are so beloved
98 notes - Posted April 24, 2022
#4
I may be very new to Hermitcraft, and Grian lore especially, but between the Entity and the Rift he “created” it seems suspiciously Watcher related
128 notes - Posted April 13, 2022
#3
Oh, I cannot wait for the inevitable Grian heist episode into Mumbo’s vault. He will find a way in even if it takes all season.
158 notes - Posted May 1, 2022
#2
Thinking about an Afterlife inspired dsmp au.
For those who aren’t aware of Afterlife’s premise: everyone has ten lives and a random origin. When they die, their origin is randomly rerolled.
So!
Tommy’s origin when he joins is imp-like. It fits his mischievous personality and tendency towards pranks during those early days when wars were just for fun and nobody got hurt. They were all still friends at the end of the day.
Tubbo’s second origin is more notable than his first. After dying in the Final Control Room, he respawns with thicker skin; more difficult to pierce and cut through. He credits his shulker abilities during his spy days as he smuggled information and documents to and from Pogtopia. It was easier then, to lock up his emotions into a neat and tidy box. He misses it sometimes.
Wilbur joins the server with wings. And just like his father, he is considered untouchable. His revolution shakes the smp down to its roots. His ideas set history in motion. After his first death during the revolution, he's suddenly grounded. Still, he presses forward. When he’s killed escaping into exile; his rapidly declining mental health and paranoia warps his origin. Dark thorns sprout around his throat, choking him. The vines overwhelm him, and not even he’s immune to their sting.
Tubbo loses his second life with a flash of colorful light and a bang. In what feels like a cruel twist of fate, he’s dealt the same origin as Schlatt: a goat. He mostly hides it during his presidency in shame, but after establishing Snowchester he fully embraces its stubborn nature. He won’t let anyone push him around ever again.
Tommy doesn’t get to enjoy his third origin much. It’s a painful switch: Wilbur losing his wings only for Tommy to gain his. The pain in his brother’s eyes and the guilt gnaws at him, so Tommy binds them away, so they won’t be seen. He’s finally able to fly; a dream he’s had for years, but he’s never felt more grounded. He cries when Ghostbur manifests, a pair of whole wings on his back as if they’d never been lost at all.
Dream clips his feathers during exile. Tommy dully thinks it’s a waste of time. No one ever taught him to fly.
Tommy is the one to finally slay the server dragon: Dream. The shattering of his mask, the wet crunch of his skull splitting twice. No one knows what Dream’s second origin would've been; he was still manifesting when Tommy drove the Axe of Peace into his head. It’s poetic. Tommy never knew his either: after the final control room, Tommy had stumbled from his respawn, discs clutched in his hands and skin still knitting together as he called for a duel.
Dream doesn’t know what to expect when he revives Tommy. Perhaps cheating death will unlock something new and terrible. Powerful. Something Dream can manipulate for his own gains.
Tommy opens his eyes and he's just human. Painfully, quietly, human with no cool powers or special abilities. It feels like a sigh of relief. He’s not special. He’s not. He just wants to live. Is that too much to ask for?
176 notes - Posted April 21, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Mumbo really clocked Grian with the fake vault, huh? Just standing there and watching Grian fly into it over and over like “yes, I am enriching my pesky bird with a toy that has no reward.”
267 notes - Posted May 10, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#hy screams#pffft
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Fuck You to Sleep <3
Tsukishima x fem reader
Warnings:Smut, Oral (Female Receiving), Some cuss words,Prais, Probably OOC Tsukki (Cause why not.) He’s soft in this,Not proof read or edited
Word Count:1334
(So I’ve never really wrote smut before but I wanted to give it a try. I actually haven’t wrote anything in forever but I randomly got inspired to do something again at 1 am. It might not be the best but if it’s awful don't tell me I’ll cry. I do like constructive criticism tho… Anyways…)
“Did I wake you?”
You had awoken just a couple seconds earlier to the sound of your boyfriend,Tsukishima, slipping into your shared bedroom as he just finished up his work. He tried to be as quiet as possible in case you were sleeping, though he secretly hoped you were awake so he could spend some time with you.
A simple, yet honest, “mhm” was all you could muster, still groggy from being woken up so late in the middle of the night.
“I’m sorry love.” He mutters before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
You absolutely loved when he was soft like this.
“It’s alright,but I’m up now. I might not be able to go back to sleep.” You complained about starting to sit up when Tsukki places a hand on your shoulder. “Just lie back down baby.” He whispers, pressing another gentle kiss against the shell of your ear.
You do as he says and he positions himself so that he’s now hovering above you and he continues planting kisses against your skin moving from your ear down to your neck.
You wrap your arms around his neck,pulling him closer so you could feel his chest plush against your own as you let out small whimpers of his name.
“I can wear you down right here and now if you want.” he teases, smirking against your skin. You simply nod your head in response. You can feel heat rise to your cheeks. You know that’s not gonna be enough for him.
“Come on baby. Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
He nuzzles his head in between the crook of your neck, lips brushing shell of your ear,
“You want me to tire you out? Let me fuck you back to sleep.”
“Yes Kei, please do.” you whine
He moves his hand down to rub circles around your clothes clit only covered by the panties that you wore underneath his T-shirt.
“Yeah baby? You want me to fuck you back to sleep?”He continues teasing. “I mean it’s the least I can do after waking you so abruptly.”
He moves down placing his head between your thighs pressing kisses against each one “Relax.” he breathes out. “Let me take care of you.”
He moves his fingers against your panties,stroking the damp material,before placing another soft kiss to your inner thigh.”You’re pretty wet down here Pipsqueak.This all for me?”
“Kei…” you whined, ruining your fingers through his fluffy golden strands. “Please don’t tease.”
“Mmm” he mumbled against your skin. “Don’t worry I got you Pipsqueak.”
He taps your hip, signaling for you to lift them up so he can pull your panties off and slides the soaked garments off your legs.You slowly spread your legs for him, wincing slightly as the cold air hits your formerly clothed slit.
You inhale sharply at the first swipe of his tongue along your slit and squirm against the firm mattress below you.
Tsukishima grips his hands around your thighs as he begins a rhythm alternating between sucking aginst your puffy clit and swiping his tongue between your folds.
“Hah! Mm gonna cum!” You mewl out as you tighten your grip on his hair.
“Go ahead baby.” he breathes out, flicking your clit against his moist tongue. “Cum in my mouth princess.”
The sound of the new nickname pushed you to your limit and had you coming undone cumming quicker than you thought you would have. He doesn't hesitate to drink it all up and only pulls away once he’s licked you clean.
“Mmm good girl, cumming for me like that.” He sits up and begins to remove his own clothing then climbs over you so that he is once again hovering atop of you as he begins peppering your collarbones with soft kisses.”Now for me to actually put you to sleep-” He begins, lining his throbbing dick up to your hole. “Imma need you to cum on my cock too.” He smirks before pressing a kiss against your temple.
“I love you y/n.” he whispers into your hair. “I really do.”
“I love you too Kei.” You manage to get out just as he pulls you in for a deep,wet kiss.
Tsukishima breaks the kiss to come up for air and to press his forehead against your own as he begins pushing his length inside of you.He stops and kisses you again once he finally reaches all the way inside of you to let the pressure subside. He wanted to make you feel as good as he possibly could so he decided to be as gentle as he could.
You give him a small nod of approval and he begins to rock his hips against yours in a rhythm that has you moaning at every drag of his cock inside your gummy walls.
“That's my girl.” Tsukishima settles down on his forearms and presses his lips against your own in another passionate kiss letting his tongue slip past your lips to explore every inch of your mouth.
“Ah, baby…” He moans out as he pulls away “You feel so fucking good.Youre so fucking perfect. I love you so much.”
The string of soft praises has you clenching around his cock making you both moan even more.
You begin to rock your hips meeting his thrusts and allowing for an angle that has the both of you falling apart for one another.
“Just like that”
You feel the familiar knot begin to build up as your head becomes fuzzy and you can’t focus on anything but the absolute ecstasy of Tsukki dragging his cock in and out of your gummy walls and the ache in your chest from being so close to the person that you loved the most.
It really was the best feeling.
“Kei! I;m gonna-”
“Cum for me baby.”
That’s all you needed to let your second orgasm wash over you once again.
“Good girl,that's my baby.” He slows down his thrusts and presses his lips against your ear. “You wanna cum again?” He whispers, making you shiver slightly.
“Y-yes…” You mumble shyly cheeks heating up as you turn your head away from him.
He brings his movements to a halt and turns your face back towards him leaving his hand resting against your cheek lovingly.
“Don’t be shy. I’m here to make you feel good. Turn around for me baby”
You turn over now on all fours and he continues his thrust the new angle allowing him to hit that soft spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars.
“Oh my god! Kei,baby it feels so good!” You moan out your hands gripping the sheets in front of you.
Kei pulls you up so that your back is pushed against his chest as he plants kisses onto your shoulder to muffle his own soft moans.
He begins showering you with more praise as his own orgasm nears him.“I would do anything for you baby, I’m so in love with you..ha...won’t you cum with me beautiful.”
You whine out something close to a response as he begins to pump into you faster until you both reach your orgasms with a string of moans and “I love you’s” falling from both of your lips.
You lean back resting your head on Kei’s chest as he still holds you up in the position you were in.
“Ah hold on a second pipsqueak.” he says before gently laying you back down onto your bed as he flops down next to you. Both of you sitting in a comfortable silence trying to catch your breath until he eventually gets up to grab a damp towel and clean the both of you off and laying right back down next to you.
“I love you y/n.” are the last words you hear before you nuzzle yourself against your boyfriend’s chest and drift off to sleep.
#tsukishima x reader#haikyu x reader#tsukishima x reader smut#haikyuu smut#tsukkishima kei#tsukki x reader#tsukishima smut#hq smut#hq x reader#softdom haikyuu#soft tsukki#haikyuu!!#tsukishima x female reader#tsukishima scenarios#haikyuu drabbles
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hi! congratulations on 420 followers ^_^
heres a meme idea: Banri sings in the shower >:3 whether he's good at it or not, or if others react to it, is totally up to you!
I've been meaning to write my own fic about it, but I'd love to hear others' versions of it! If u do choose to write this, thanks in advance and pls take ur time :))
Have a nice day!
Nice >:)
Ayooo finally finding some time to clear out my drafts/askbox after like a year’s time let’s gooooo
Okay, so at first this was supposed to be a full-fledged scenario where each member of the Mankai company would randomly encounter Banri singing in the shower but I eventually lost inspiration and dropped it;;
So take this short WIP plus some bullet points!
One of the aspects of living in the Mankai dorms was, unfortunately, having to use a communal bathroom. For better or for worse, that led to Banri sharing the bathroom with other members at times that were once his private bathing time.
That isn’t to say that Banri was embarrassed about it – hell, he has an amazing body and he freaking knows it!
“B-Banri!” Sakuya squeaks out as he averts his eyes, Tsuzuru doing the same. “Sorry for disturbing you. Spring Troupe’s night practice just finished and we thought that no one else was in here.”
Moments like these, however, make him wish he had a bathroom he could use by himself.
Awkward seconds pass painfully slow until Sakuya and Tsuzuru decide to just show themselves out, electing to wait for Banri to finish his bath.
“For what it’s worth, you have a lovely singing voice, Banri.” Tsuzuru offers before hurrying over to the door.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Banri grouches, his face reddening at being caught. “I’ll hurry up so your troupe can get in already.”
Later, Masumi who heard the details from a sleep-talking Tsuzuru sneers at Banri for his poor taste in music. Eventually, Citron catches wind of the fact and makes a big deal at the dinner table about how he laments not being able to witness Banri’s “concert”, nor being able to sing along with him. Itaru and Chikage continuously tease him about it until the news loses its novelty.
--
- Tenma being Tenma gives him shit about it like “Your technique could use some work.” But also uses it as an excuse to hang out and goes “Improve and bring your A game to our next karaoke sesh.”
- Yuki just isn’t having it like, “shut up some ppl need to bathe properly”
- Kazunari is totally on board, joins in like, “oh yeah pump it up let’s partyyyyy ”
- Muku is totally accepting of it and this further solidifies his princely image he has of Banri bc he sings when doing daily stuff
- Misumi occasionally joins in on Banri’s bath time and sings triangle songs and Banri was super exasperated about it at first and actively tried to avoid taking baths with Misumi around but eventually grew to accept it and just lets it happen.
- Kumon heckles him about him like “my nii-chan sings way better than you smh.”
- Autumn troupe bath time: Banri just unconsciously starts singing under his breath. Juza is like stfu. Sakyo tells him to get the bath over with quickly and stop wasting water. Omi compliments his singing voice, saying it’s much better than his own. Taichi joins in as hypeman and starts belting along with Banri. Azami shades him like “If you have time to sing in the bath you have time to do proper skin care my god.”
- Tsumugi and Tasuku would be chill with it, not too overly excessive in their reaction and just apologize for intruding.
- Azuma would definitely tease Banri about it, saying things like, “My, how unexpectedly cute of you.”
- Homare definitely would join in, spouting out lyrics and rapping along.
- Hisoka is a rock. He sleeps through it all.
- Guy is intrigued and considers it as good vocal exercise and adds it to his bath routine as well
#a3!#a3! headcanons#a3! scenarios#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3#a3! actor training game#a3game#director make us queue#a3 act addict actors#a3! game#a3 banri#settsu banri#banri settsu
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They won’t dare to bother you anymore...
(This is my first Niki Lauda x Reader fic ever, and my second fanfic in general, ever... English is still not my native language, sorry for the mistakes in advance... I wrote this in one sitting, because I got inspired by my one and only @mymagicsuitcase and her Niki Lauda headcanon... The giving you their jacket one... I read it... Loved it... And this happened... Enjoy <3 )
WARNINGS: little drinking, little swearing, possibly smoking, Hunt is a dick, Lauda is a sweatheart (maybe went a little OOC, I’m not sure... I tried not to but... yeah), Reader is female, no name or y/n is mentioned
Word: 1,7k~
You were excited, but a nervous wreck as well, at the same time.
You met Niki at a party of one of the other F1 drivers’. A friend of yours had been a good friend of him, whom owned the place, and they dragged you along, quote “You’re gonna die alone, come on! They are interesting people, and you would be just bored in your house!”. So, yeah. That’s how you found yourself leaning to the wall, beer in hand, in a massive living room, observing people in front of you. You weren’t that good in F1, you had been watching it on the TV and following some news, but you were sort of a rookie in that field. You knew some names, especially the ones which were everywhere, either after achieving something big, or having a huge rivalry. Such as Hunt and Lauda. As you were deep in your thoughts, you didn’t see that one of the mentioned drivers was looking directly at you. Also leaning to the wall with a drink in his hands, his curly locks loosely hugging his face, some have escaped from the others, and were fallen in front of his forehead. He thought you looked beautiful in those red dress of yours with a black leather jacket. Even though you looked very awkward and uncomfortable, clearly you felt that you didn’t belong there and looked like that as well, still. There was something in you which captivated him. Like you had power, but you didn’t want to waste it on something, or someone. You didn’t want to just use it randomly. You even looked mysterious. He wanted you. Only to himself. And although it entertained him greatly, that how you slipped away ever so slightly from anyone who came near you, and a visibly pain started to form on your face, like the whole world’s problem was on your shoulder, the temptation to save you from the situation, to wanted to know who you were, was way more stronger. Just as he launched himself of the wall with the foot that was rested on it, he froze in his steps. Someone else was more agile. And forward. And loud. Also drunk.
- Hey, hey, hey! Why is that, that a beautiful woman like you just standing next to a wall at a party? - startled you the one and only, James Hunt, leaning on the wall directly next to you.
- Omm… It just… I’m not a party people I guess… - you answered slightly taken back, shyly.
- Then why are you here, my lady? - he smelled like all kinds of alcohol and cigarette.
- A friend of mine brought me here… - you started but you were cut off immediately by him.
- Really? I should thank them, they brought you to me, a stunning woman who…
- That’s enough, Hunt. You’re clearly making her uncomfortable. Leave her alone. - A hand grabbed Hunt’s shoulder, and you snapped your head to the direction of whom it might be.
- What? You want her to yourself?! Lauda… Go away, I was here sooner!!
- You’re drunk. There are plenty of ladies who would kindly do anything you say so. Now fuck off. - He didn’t want to start a fight, but he wanted to sound demanding. He really wanted him to piss off.
- Jesus… - and just like that, without a word hi was gone.
You stared at the leaving figure for a couple of seconds before you looked at the other driver in the eyes and realized he was already looking at you, like he was searching for something.
- Are you alright?
- Yeah, I think so… Thank you, Mr. Lauda. - you said shyly.
- Oh please, call me Niki. - the corner of his mouth twitched up a little.
- Thank you… Niki. - you said again, with a slight blush - I think I should go… I don’t want to start more drama, and I have already stayed more than I am comfortable with… My friend will be fine, I just get a taxi or something… - you trailed off, halfly speaking to him, halfly just thinking out loud - I shouldn’t have come… - you added quietly, but he picked it up.
- Wait! Please… Come out with me to the balcony… Get some fresh air. You look a little bit railed up, I don’t want you to leave alone like this, to be honest. - he tried so say it as casual as possible, but he really was worried for you. A little bit. Maybe. He didn’t want to admit it to himself either.
You didn’t know what to say, so without thinking you just nod slightly and let him led you towards the balcony. As you passed by the dancing figures of the party, you felt Niki’s hand touch the lower of your back. He didn’t want to startle you more than this, he just wanted to make sure that no one could bump into you, and you could get to the damn balcony as soon as possibble. Well, that’s what he said to himself in that moment, that was the reason why he touched you, surely. He relaxed a little bit, when you weren’t complaining. And you certainly weren't planning to. On the balcony you just chatted for a while. You told him your name, why you were there, your job, little things like these. In exchange he told you about himself, his job, and how this season was going for him, his plans for the remaining time of the race. You also told him that you followed his race, the whole season, but you didn’t know everything, or rather didn’t understand everything. You liked cars, but you were no mechanic. There were a whole two weeks until the next race, which took place in the city. He offered you to go with him to his garage the next day. He could show you some stuff which might interest you. He also offered you to drive you home if you still want to leave, so you didn’t have to take a taxi or worse. You weren’t sure why, you just met this man, but there was a spark between the two of you. You said yes to him. For both things.
And now here you were, awkwardly standing at the Ferrari’s garage. During the last 2 weeks, you got to know Niki pretty well. You met him nearly everyday, either in his garage, talking to you while patching up the car, or taking you out to drinking. You weren’t together or anything. But you did liked him. A lot. You could see how he was sometimes stubborn and quick-tempered, but with you, he was way more softer. Although he rather did not show this side of him to anyone else. It was only for you. He wanted you to come to this race, but he didn’t want to drag you into any kind of gossip, which was very common in the F1 family, so you came here alone, he was already here. He got you a full-pass, so you could come to his garage, without anyone stopping you. You couldn’t see him yet, so you just stood there, out of the way of everyone. You felt a hand on your back.
- Well, well, isn’t that the beautiful lady from the that party? You missed me? - fuckin’ Hunt.
- I’m not here for you, Hunt. - you tried to say it as cold as humanly possible.
- Are you mad about our drunk incident? Look, let’s talk about that… - he stepped a few inch closer to you, as you would have liked it, trying to intimidate you.
- Get off her before I run you over with my car. - Niki appeared out of nowhere, his eyes were shooting lightnings. If looks could kill...
- Whoa, easy there Lauda. You really came here for him? - Hunt looked at you in disbelief - You have an interesting taste… - he trailed off as he walked away, again, no more words, grinning to himself.
Niki went to go after him to hit that grin off of Hunt’s face, but you grabbed his arm.
- Calm down, it’s okay. You have to concentrate on the race. Don’t let him get under your skin. - you tried to reason him, and it seemed to work. You had his full attention.
You only noticed it now, that in his free hand there was a jacket, a red one, just like his suit. He freed himself from your grasp, and showed you the back of the jacket. NIKI LAUDA was printed on it, with huge letters. Without letting you say anything, he grabbed it, and put it over your shoulders. He carefully fixed it, so it looked good on you.
- What’s this for? - you smiled, you liked the jacket that was given to you by him.
- Just to show everyone who you support, so they won’t dare to bother you anymore. - ha said casually, grinning proudly.
- Okay - you laughed - I am only here to only support you.
- Good. - he beamed at you.
You heard a voice calling for attention. The drivers had to get into their cars. Niki was ready to go but before he could have left you, you stepped on your tiptoes, put one of your hands on the side of his face, and gave a little peck on the other side.
- I’ll be waiting for you right here. Fuck Hunt up. - you whispered into his ear.
You moved back, but Niki quickly took a hold on you, before you went to far from him.
- I might be in love with you… Can I take you out to a dinner? - he asked with the biggest grin you had saw on him.
- As a date?
- Yes. - he said with confidence.
- Only if you win… - you smiled mischievously.
- Deal. - he returned the same smile.
He let go of you and stormed to his crew and car. He jumped into his car and put on his helmet. Before he closed of its lid, he looked at you last time. You locked eyes and he winked at you. You blushed deep, but kept smiling as he drove off to the track.
This is gonna be a good day...
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the dragon’s princess ⤑ jhs | m.
⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: with your mother’s death, and your father remarrying, came your abandonment in a tower - under the pretence that you’d be saved by a prince when you were older. now, it’s been over a decade and the princes come in droves to save you from the dragon that guards you. but you don’t want a charming prince. no. you prefer sweet ferocious dragons. one sweet, ferocious dragon in particular. fantasy au. royalty au. fairytale au. childhood friends to lovers au.
⟶ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: dragon shifter!hoseok x princess!reader
⟶ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst • fluff • smut
⟶ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 23.5k
⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: child abandonment, fairytale cliches: evil stepmother, abandoned princess, protective dragons and saviour princes, mentions of violence/action, mentions of death, brief descriptions of drowning (v v brief), alcohol consumption, soft dom!hoseok, sub!reader, slight body worship, hoseok, of course, has a dragon cock, hoseok is a tease, fingering, unprotected sex, first time sex + virgin sex, marking/mating, creampie, kidnapping, reader makes reckless decisions (DON’T randomly jump out a window in a spur of a moment decision)
⟶ 𝑎/𝑛: LOOK IT’S A SEXY COMEBACK!! hello ladeez n gentlenutz, I have missed you all! It’s been SO long since i’ve written (only 3 months really but it feELS LONGER) so anyway, here we are!! I hope you enjoy!! dedicated to miss bette aka peanut aka @ddaenggtan, i love and appreciate u so much okay thank you xxx
❥ thank you to @honeymoonjin, @hobisbeautifulass, @shadowsremedy and @jungtaeyoongles and of course miss bette, but you’ve already been tagged uwu, for being sweet babies and reading this and giving me the much needed validation to keep me inspired and writing this fic, i love u sexy losers
❥ happy birthday to my love, my sunflower, my king jung hoseok. i love u to the end of the worlds and further
⏤ part of the @ficswithluv ‘The Luv Library’ project
Your footsteps crunch along the ground as you make your way back to the tower you’ve called your home for the past decade. Leaves crackle under the soles of your sandals, the sound entwining with the gentle rustle of the trees as the soothing cacophony of sounds eases your soul. A soft wind flitters past, the light gale wisping through your hair, causing a few strands to dance in the squall. It shouldn’t take you long to reach home - you’d only been out foraging and hunting for supper. A victorious smile creeping onto your face, your eyes glance down at the wicker basket nestled next to your hip, the handle resting in the crook of your elbow.
An array of mixed berries, fruits and vegetables sit in the basket, nestled next to the cloth-covered slab of boar meat - and a few different herbs stalks taking up the rest of the space. Your grin widens as you silently praise yourself over your success. The boar meat especially gets you excited - it’s Hoseok’s favourite. Once again, you internally cheer, as you imagine the inevitable look of excitement on your dragon’s face when you tell him about your catch. Boar meat was rare to come by - well, somewhat rare - considering it was a fool’s folly to hunt for one without someone to accompany you. However, today, you’d managed to stumble across an injured one and tried your luck - and as it turned out, your luck had won out. Though, you do chalk most of it down to Seokjin’s archery training. The elf had tried his hardest to impart onto you some of his skill; and apparently, he’d been successful, since you’d managed to skewer the boar with one, well placed shot to the head, consequently putting it out of its misery.
You continue your way back home, practically moving on muscle memory alone - you’d walked this same path more times than you could count - the trek ingrained into the soles of your feet. The dense thicket of trees, while almost identical to each other, doesn’t confuse you as they used to and you find yourself easily navigating through the forest. It doesn’t take you long to reach home, and moments later, you approach the giant tower nestled within the dense canopy of the enchanted forest.
Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip before quickening your steps, more than excited to get dinner started. One small glance at the sky lets you know that dusk will soon approach, the sun low in the sky, casting its darkened luminescence across the forest floor. Nearing the heavy wooden door, you take in its appearance. The dark wood has faded over time, greyed from its rich cherrywood colour to a duskier oak colour. Thick clusters of moss have settled into the grooves of the bark, blanketing the hardwood in a layer of soft fuzz. Large grey slabs of stone surround the door, making up the walls of the tower and vines of ivy and honeysuckle creep along the sides, brightening up the dull grey with its vivid emerald foliage and vibrant chromatic petals.
Once, long ago, the tower seemed daunting to you. Of course it had, with its towering stature and imposing appearance. You could remember it somewhat fuzzily, despite it being so long ago. When the knights had first dropped you off, you’d only been seven years old, and you’d no idea what had been going on. Back then, the tower had seemed daunting - of course, it had, you were just a child. Vaguely, you remember the knight who had escorted you into the forest - his sweeping blonde hair and wary green eyes burned into the back of your mind - and still, you can hear his voice, almost hesitant as he thrust the small basket of food into your hands before telling you this would be your new home, and that he was sorry. Then, you didn’t really know what he’d been apologising for - now you do - he was apologising for being the one to have abandoned you.
From the hazy images in your memory, you have a vague recollection of why you’d been left here: your stepmother had convinced your father to abandon you, after your mother’s death, under the impression that you would be saved by a prince - your knight in shining armour. You had expected your father to fight for you, but distraught by the death of your mother, and your face only a cruel reminder of her, he’d agreed to his wife’s wishes, and thus, you’d been whisked away into the enchanted forest that bordered your kingdom.
The moment the knight had left, jumping onto his white stallion before riding back out, you’d called out to him - begged him to take you back with him - but your pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Scared, you’d retreated into the dark tower, its tall walls looming over your small frame as you desperately cried out for your father. In the blackened room, with the sun setting, you had feared for your life, curling into a ball and crying into your hands as you wished for someone to come help you.
And someone had.
In the most unlikely of forms.
Twelve years ago
You watch in panic and despair as the knight rides off on his horse; the stallion’s mane fluttering in the wind beside him. The clip-clop of the horse’s gallop soon fades, leaving you in the quiet forest. Terror immediately floods through your being as you look around the forest for any signs of life. There isn’t any. You’re completely alone. Looking at the wicker basket of food next to you, your bottom lip juts out, trembling as tears well in your eyes. You’re all alone.
Picking up the basket, you waddle into the tower, the dimness of the room only illuminated by thick beams of waning sunlight that filtered in through the sparse and sporadically carved out arched windows in the walls. Walking over to one of the corners, you slowly sit down, looking at the tower fearfully. The knight had said this was your new home - but you don’t want it to be your new home. You wanted your old home. Nothing about this tower feels like home; it’s dark, dreary and crushingly isolated.
Though, loneliness is something you’re used to.
Ever since your mother died, you’ve been lonely. Distraught by the death of his first wife, your father had sequestered himself from you and thrown himself into his kingly duties, leaving you completely alone. Then, mere months after your mother’s untimely departure, your father had remarried and your loneliness had only increased as you watched your father and stepmother rule the kingdom.
Curling up into a ball, you pull your knees up to your chest, your chin resting between the kneecaps. Sobs fill the air, your quiet whimpers floating through the atmosphere; the broken cries juxtaposed against the eerie quiet of the forest and the solitude of the tower. The sun slowly sets over the horizon, the dusky colours of twilight blackening the sky in darkened shades of gold, mauve, and lavender. With each second that passes by, the tower grows darker, the chill of the evening wind slowly setting into your bones as you start to shiver.
All of a sudden, you hear the crunching of twigs and the crackling of dried out leaves. The hair on the back of your neck stands on their ends, your skin prickling with goosebumps - and not from the cold. Instantly, you stifle your sobs, low whimpers escaping your mouth, even as you try to muffle them. Footsteps shuffle closer, a heavy presence lingering in the air as you try to curl tighter into a ball, attempting to make yourself as small as possible.
The footsteps move closer and soon you hear the door to the tower creak open. Palpitating heavily in your chest, all you can hear is your heartbeat thundering - so loud it feels like it's right beside your eardrums. A high pitch whimper escapes your lips, wondering if it's an animal or one of the forest creatures who’ve come for you.
“Are you okay?” a voice calls out, shock evident in the voice. You let out a small whine, curling tighter into yourself. The newcomer grows quiet, a tense silence thickening the atmosphere. You try to stay as quiet as possible, hoping whoever it is will leave you alone.
“Are you all alone?” the voice asks this time. You freeze, your heart still beating rapidly in your chest, even as confusion seeps into your skin. The voice is timid and slightly wary, but it’s sweet and high-pitched - almost comforting. With great trepidation, you slowly lift your head, only to come face to face with a young boy standing in the doorway of the tower. Blinking owlishly, you stare at him blankly.
Quietly, and warily, you take him in - your eyes trailing over his features. He looks fairly human - with lithe limbs, and soft features: rounded, ample cheeks and a gently sloping jaw - both juxtaposed by a sharp, pointed nose. His hair is dark in colour, and though he’s silhouetted by the sunset, you note the russet tinge to his hair, his locks falling gently to frame his forehead. If you didn’t know better, you’d consider him human - if it weren’t for his eyes. They’re a light yellow-hued hazel, almost glowing in the darkroom of the tower, and the pupils are slit vertically. A ripple of fear shoots through you, and you shuffle further back against the wall, keeping your wary eyes steady on him.
“Why are you here? Do you need some help?” the boy asks again. He moves to step closer to you, one hand reaching towards you. However, his actions cause you to immediately stiffen. Noticing your muscles tense, the boy immediately stills before retreating - but not before throwing his hands up in surrender.
“I just want to help. I heard you crying. Are you here alone?” he repeats once again. Hesitantly, you nod, answering him this time. The boy bites his lip, his eyes drooping slightly in sadness.
“I can help you if you want? I live here - in this tower I mean. I’m Hoseok,” he introduces, pushing the door wider open before fully entering the room. Once again, you stiffen slightly but Hoseok does his best to stay away from you, giving you space as he flits about his tower. You watch his every movement, keeping your distrustful eyes on him. He turns to a small window carved out into one of the walls, his nose crinkling in distaste as he takes in the darkening sky.
“It’s gonna be very dark soon. But don’t worry! I have some candles!” Hoseok says cheerily, sending a smile your way. You watch as he walks to the wall, staring up at the rusted iron candle fittings several feet above his head. Tilting your head to the side curiously, you wonder how he’s going to light the candles - they’re far too high for him to reach. Noticing your curiosity and slight skepticism, he sends you a cheeky smile, and then all of a sudden, his cheeks puff out.
Your eyes widen as he releases a strong puff of breath, fire shooting out of his mouth in a strong stream - almost like a flamethrower. The jet of flames bursts through the air, dowsing the candle in its fire before lighting the wick. It’s a miracle the candle wax doesn’t melt into a puddle. You stare at him in awe, watching as he repeatedly blows puffs of fire, lighting up the entire tower in a bright amber glow, the residual heat of his fiery breath tingling over your chilled skin. Hoseok turns back to you, a look of absolute victory on his face, his eyes slitted into little half-moons and cheeks pulled under them as the eyelids crinkle in the corner. You don’t notice any of it - instead completely in awe of the suddenly bright room.
“Did you like that?” Hoseok asks, causing you to nod, still completely starstruck over his display of power. Sensing that you’re slightly less wary, Hoseok quietens down before levelling his curious gaze at you. You watch him quietly, still curled up into a ball as you wonder what he’s thinking. Then - he slowly approaches. Your eyes widen, fear once again gripping at you - but he moves slowly, one step at a time, so as not to scare you.
“Are you feeling better now?” Hoseok asks timidly; his gaze briefly flicks to your tear-stained cheeks before returning it to your own gaze. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod hesitantly. You do feel slightly better - though, fear, confusion, and sadness still linger around you. You’re alone now - abandoned by your family and left in this isolated tower to fend for yourself. Well, not so alone - you think, momentarily glancing at Hoseok.
Then, almost as if reading your mind, “Are you alone here?” Hoseok asks, echoing your thoughts. Muscles locking, you shrink into yourself before once again nodding. “Why?”
Shrugging, “My parents don’t want me anymore,” you reply quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. The rustle of fabric fills the air as Hoseok squats down to your level, looking at you with wide, bewitching hazel eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Hoseok replies gently - nothing but truth evident in his eyes. Eyebrows furrowing, you cock your head to the side, but before you can ask why he’s sorry, he continues, “but it’s okay - because you’re not alone. I’m here now!” The words fall out of his mouth easily, a bright grin on his face, his lips pulled into the shape of a heart. Instantly, your heart soars, hope blooming inside your chest. You should know better than to trust strangers, your father had taught you that much - but your father had also been the one to abandon you - and you were desperate for someone, anyone, to relieve the ache of loneliness that you’d gotten so used to.
“I’m ____,” you finally introduce yourself, “I’m… I was a princess,” you continue, before your voice trails off. Hoseok only grins in response. Then, he stands back up before holding out his hand for you. His palms are small, chubby little fingers sticking out. You look at it intently, as if it held all the secrets to the world.
“Well, ____, I’m a dragon! And from now on, I’m gonna be your dragon! I’ll protect you!” Hoseok promises, his voice full of conviction and promise.
Then, he grabs your smaller hand in his and pulls you up to your feet.
The memory fades from your mind, a fond smile on your face. That night, Hoseok had cooked you some herbal broth, made from the different plants he’d foraged in the forest. You remember it being extremely bitter, borderline inedible, and nothing like the food you’d gotten in the castle - but you hadn’t minded. No, because the entire time you’d watched the nine-year-old painstakingly bend over a pot, with a fire he kept going himself, just to cook you a meal - despite being a mere two years older than you, having no culinary experience and only needing to feed himself before. Back then, and even now, you appreciated the gesture. It had meant the world to you.
Not to mention, that for the first time since your mother died, you hadn’t felt so lonely. Hoseok had been a blessing - one you had desperately wished for every night since your mother’s death and your father’s abandonment. In every way, shape, and form, he’d crushed your loneliness, giving you much-needed company, friendship - and not to mention, a family; because the next day, he’d introduced you to his friends, the different creatures of the forest.
“____? Wake up! I want you to meet some people!” Hoseok’s high-pitched voices calls out. With a soft groan, you awaken from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you come face to face with the boy you’d only just met yesterday. His kind eyes smile at you, his lips pulled into a cheery grin.
“What?” you groggily ask.
“Come meet my friends!” Hoseok says cheerily. Your eyes widen, nervousness colouring your veins. Hoseok’s friends? It shouldn’t sound as daunting as it is - but it does - because you’ve never met them before. What if they don’t like you? What if they get Hoseok to leave you? What if you’re left alone again? The thought terrifies you - you’ve only known Hoseok for a short while, but you were already coming to rely on him - he was your first friend after all.
“Oh! Here! There was food in your basket - have some breakfast,” Hoseok says, thrusting out a little loaf of bread and some cheese towards you. Blinking owlishly, your sleep fogged mind reels slightly. Nevertheless, the smell of the food has your stomach rumbling, and graciously you accept Hoseok’s offering - but not before breaking the loaf and handing him some. Hoseok looks at you in surprise, but takes the food from you nonetheless.
“Come on then! They’re waiting to meet you,” Hoseok says before holding out his hand for you. With trepidation, you place your smaller hand in his; and despite your fear, you decide to trust Hoseok - because he’s all you have now.
The two of you wander through the tower, down the spiral steps until you’re back at the entrance. With each step, your nervousness grows, your palms turning clammy as you grip Hoseok’s hand tighter. “Are you okay?” Hoseok asks, his slightly pointed ears twitching as he hears your heartbeat quicken. Taking a deep breath, you swallow thickly before nodding.
“I’m okay,” you manage to squeak out. Hoseok’s head cocks slightly, looking at you in uncertainty, however, you squeeze his hand to reassure him, causing him to squeeze back.
“Let’s go then. I promise they’re nice,” Hoseok whispers quietly before opening the door and guiding you out.
Instantly, sunlight floods through the door, your eyes squinting immediately as you try to adjust to the bright light. Once your eyes have adjusted, Hoseok leads you past a dense brush of bushes and down a covertly hidden, narrow path. You both walk for a couple of minutes before you find yourselves at a little clearing nestled in the middle of the woods. From just past the clearing, you can hear raucous laughter and happy chattering, a particularly thick bush acting as a barrier between you and Hoseok’s friends.
It only takes a couple of moments for Hoseok to peel apart the bush, creating a narrow path for you to walk through - and then, you’re greeted by six young boys. Two boys are running around the riverbank that cuts through the glade, another boy floating in the river as he happily splashes the two boys chasing each other. Another one is happily resting on a tree branch, his eyes closed and little snores escaping his nose as he naps. The last two boys are sat on a boulder, simply watching over the rest of the boys: observing them. Welcomed by the sight of the six unknown boys, you can’t help but cower behind Hoseok, hiding most of your body behind his slightly taller one as you peer in curiosity over his shoulder.
The first person to notice the two of you is one of the boys on the boulder. As soon as he stands up, your eyes grow wide - he looks to be a couple of years older than even Hoseok, but still pretty young, yet he stands tall - much taller than you and Hoseok - and straight. He’s dressed in brown leather, with a bow and quiver full of arrows strapped to his back. Stalking over to the two of you, he draws the attention of all the other boys, except the sleeping one.
“Hi! Welcome to the enchanted forest,” the tall boy greets, a friendly smile on his face. His hair is dark, framing his face and his bright amber eyes are kind. “I’m Seokjin, it’s nice to meet you,” he introduces. Ducking your head, you shyly curtsey to him, not knowing how else to greet him. Your gesture causes Seokjin to chuckle, Hoseok frowning before stepping further in front of you, levelling a glare on the older boy. Noticing his protectiveness, Seokjin simply laughs at the dragon.
“She’s here!” the boy in the river cries. Instantly, the two on the riverbank stop chasing each other. You watch from over Hoseok’s shoulder as the two boys start running towards you - but they’re not what has most of your attention. No, it’s the boy from the river. You watch as he pulls himself onto land, your eyes widening it awe at the tail attached to his torso. However, it doesn’t last long - because the moment it touches land, they transform into legs. Eyes glued to him, you’re completely intrigued by how he stands up before approaching you slowly with shaky legs and you can’t help but giggle over how adorable he is. Suddenly, one of the boys turns around and quickly walks over to him, letting the merman lean on him as the two of them approach you.
“Hi! I’m Jimin, it’s nice to meet you,” Jimin introduces, reaching you first, the other two still walking slowly, the merman’s wobbly legs strengthening slightly with each step they take. You turn your attention to Jimin. He’s around your height, with adorable puffy cheeks, warm rose-pink eyes, pale blonde hair, and pointed ears. Noticing your gaze, currently glued to his ears, Jimin smiles brightly. “Have you never seen a nymph before?” he asks. Blushing at being caught staring, you shake your head but mumble out an apology. “It’s alright! We haven’t seen a human this close either!” Jimin replies easily, nonchalance laced in his voice.
“That’s Namjoon - he’s a griffin,” Jimin says, pointing towards the boy still sitting on the boulder. He watches you intently, his honey, eagle eyes trained on you as his white-feathered, pointed ears stand erect, perched on the top of his head, between his platinum-white hair. His gaze slightly unnerves you, causing you to shrink further behind Hoseok.
“Joon! Stop that,” Hoseok growls out, snapping at the other boy. Namjoon blinks owlishly before blushing sheepishly.
You watch as he rubs the back of his head before cocking his head to the side. “Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles under his breath.
“You’ll get used to him. He’s really nice, he’s just wary of new people,” Seokjin whispers conspiratorially in your ear.
“Yeah, don’t worry, we’re all nice I promise,” Jimin says, popping up on your either side. Both their actions cause you to jump suddenly. When did they sneak up beside you? Noticing you jerk, they both apologise before stepping back.
“Sorry, sorry,” Seokjin and Jimin call out at once, before backing off.
“Ignore them, they’re all just excited to meet you. I’m Yoongi by the way,” comes out a new, unfamiliar voice. Your gaze moves to the boy on the tree - except now, he’s fully awake. Perched on the tree, he simply looks at you through his pale pink locks; his emerald-green eyes glowing so vibrantly that you can see them even with the distance between the two of you.
“Guys! Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Hoseok whines, stomping his little foot.
“It’s okay Hoseok! They’re just being nice,” you quickly call out, shaking your head at him - not wanting to offend his friends. As overwhelming as it is meeting them, they seem friendly enough - not to mention that none of them seem to dislike you, putting you more at ease. Finally, the last two boys appear. One of them, the smaller of the two, has bright red, almost orange toned hair, glowing in the sunlight: almost as if he’s on fire. The second, slightly taller one - the merman - has dark blue hair paired with icy blue eyes.
“I’m Taehyung! This is Jungkook!” the blue-haired merman greets you, smiling brightly, even as he leans heavily on the smaller boy - who you now know to be Jungkook. “I’m a merman,” Taehyung says proudly, a bright smile on his face.
Teal eyes flashing in annoyance, “And I’m a phoenix!” Jungkook butts in, pouting slightly when the older boy doesn’t introduce him before elbowing him in the rib playfully. Taehyung, however, only laughs him off.
Heart gripping, you can’t help but be jealous of the interaction. You’ve never had friends you could play with like that. Suddenly, Taehyung jerks slightly, his knees buckling under his weight. Before he can fall, Seokjin and Jimin’s hands instantly reach out for him, steadying the merman. The brief action only causes your chest to tighten. Is that what having friends was like? “Are you okay?” you blurt out, looking at Taehyung’s wobbly legs worriedly. The merman blinks at you before letting out a sheepish, boxy smile.
“Uh… Yeah... it’s just a little weird - I’m not used to having legs. But Hoseok couldn’t stop talking about you this morning and we all wanted to meet you!” Taehyung replies. You look up at Hoseok curiously, the younger boy’s cheeks tinging pink as he looks away, rubbing the back of his head shyly.
“Don’t tell her that… it’s embarrassing,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath. You stare at him for a couple of moments before letting out a little giggle. The boys look at you in surprise as you laugh, before turning to each other in confusion. You can’t help yourself, however, because as strange as the experience is, you find yourself happier than you’ve been in a long time. You’ve never been surrounded by this many children before. Back when you were a princess, you didn’t have any friends - only the children of dukes and duchesses to play with; and even they would only visit every so often, when their parents had business with yours.
“____?” Hoseok asks, poking your cheek as he tries to get your attention. Biting your lip, you greet them all with a bright smile - a real one. You smile so wide, it hurts your cheeks, but you can’t help yourself.
“It’s nice to meet you all! I’m ____, I hope we can be friends,” you blurt out without thinking. Silence fills the air for a couple of moments causing you to bite your lips. Had you made a mistake? Deflating slightly, you shrink under their blank stares, their curious gaze focused intently on you. Had you done something wrong in your excitement? Was asking to be their friend too much? Would Hoseok leave you now?
The silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity - but in reality, it is only a couple of moments. Then, all of a sudden, it’s broken by a chorus of laughter. Your eyes widen as all the boys begin chuckling. Fearing the worst, your fists clench into the skirt of your dress, balling the material as you hold it tightly.
“Yeah! Let’s be friends. For a long time,” the boys all chime in, bright smiles on their faces. Even Namjoon chimes in, his once wary gaze softening as he looks at your small, frightened frame. The moment those words fall from their lips, your heart soars, your chest lifting as happiness blooms within you.
Friends. You have friends.
Drawn out of your musings, you blink in surprise at your surroundings. Somehow, you’d moved on muscle memory alone - and now, were by the firepit in the room that served as both your kitchen and dining room in the tower. Except, you hadn’t just moved to this room on muscle memory, you’d also somehow managed to begin cooking dinner. Blinking in confusion at the cut-up vegetables and meat, you simply shake your head. Turning to the pot hanging over the firepit, the vessel already filled with the water, you add in the vegetables and meat before haphazardly throwing in the herbs for the stew. However, without Hoseok, you’re unable to light the fire under the pot, which means you have to go find him.
You turn to one of the windows, your eyes narrowing when you realise it’s going to be dark soon. Yet, Hoseok still isn’t home. Eyebrows furrowing, you decide that perhaps it may be worth looking for him. You have a while for the stew to cook anyway - and there are only a few places Hoseok could be - that is - if he’s nearby. Grabbing your cloak to shield you from the evening chill, you wrap it around your shoulders before making your way up the tower. Briefly, you stop in your room, wondering if Hoseok was in there. He isn’t - and travelling a little further up, you know he’s not in his own room either.
With a sigh of frustration, you descend back down the stairs, checking each room of the tower for any signs of your best friend. He’s not in any of them, which means he’s either in his den or in the Goblin’s Glade - the little clearing where you and your friends hang out. You decide to try the den, considering it’s a little closer than the meadow. Exiting the tower, you head off in the direction you know Hoseok’s den to be in.
You remember the first time you’d found out Hoseok had a secret den - you’d heard the stories of course, about dragons and their dens - and how they would steal treasures from people to horde in their nests. You hadn’t believed any of them, especially since Hoseok had never shown any tendency for hoarding - nor had you ever seen a den. Until he’d disappeared one day - when you were twelve years old.
Seven years ago
“Hobi?” you call out, wandering through the tower as you scour the area for your draconic best friend. Small pout marring your face, your eyebrows scrunch as he’s nowhere to be found. Leaving the confines of the tower, you look around the clearing for any signs of the copper-haired dragon.
“Hobi?!” you shout once again, your voice carrying through the forest.
“____, what’s up?” a voice suddenly asks. Jumping, you let out a shriek before turning to the newcomer. Namjoon hovers over you, his large eagle wings spanning around him as he glides on the air.
“Namjoon! Don’t do that!” you cry out, sending him a scowl. The older boy simply laughs at you before gracefully landing on the ground. Or at least, it would have been a graceful landing - if he hadn’t been Namjoon, because in classic Namjoon fashion, the moment his feet land, he almost trips. “Will you ever stop being so clumsy?” you tease, cocking your hip to the side and placing your hands on them.
Namjoon sneers at that, dusting himself off, “One day! I’m still getting used to them you know,” he mutters under your breath. You let out a little giggle at his words. It had surprised you that the forest creatures weren’t born with every one of their attributes - no instead, they slowly came into them over time - kind of like their own version of adulthood. Sure, they were born with some fantastical features - like their eyes, or ears - but the rest usually came with age. Seokjin had fully come into his elven self, and thus his magic, when he’d turned fourteen - three years after you had met him, and Yoongi had fully transitioned into a dryad the year after Seokjin’s.
Namjoon, however, had only come into his wings a month ago, when he’d turned fourteen. Briefly, you wonder when Hoseok would change. So far, he still looked mostly human - if it weren’t for his draconic eyes. “Thinking about Hoseok?” Namjoon asks, a cheeky grin on his face as his dimple indent. Instantly, your face heats before you playfully smack him. Or at least, you attempt to - but Namjoon sees it coming, his eagle eyes catching the movement instantaneously and allowing him to dodge.
“Does the wittle pwincess still have a wittle cwush on Hobi Hobi?” Namjoon teases as he reaches out to pinch your cheeks. Batting his hands away, his words cause your cheeks to heat further.
“Sh-shut up! It’s not like that!” you screech in indignation. Namjoon lets out a little tut before looking at you impishly.
“If you say so, Princess,” he sing songs.
“Stop calling me that!” you scowl, stomping your foot while letting out a huff.
“Okay, okay! Anyway, why were you calling out for Hoseok?” Namjoon asks, looking at you curiously. Cheeks still flushed, your nose scrunches as you remember why you left the tower.
“I can’t find him, do you know where he is?” you ask, cocking your head to the side, your previous ire completely forgotten. Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in worry.
“Was he not in the tower? He’s not with any of us. Jimin, Tae and Kook are playing in the Merfolk Mangroves and Seokjin and Yoongi went to the forest edge for a walk. I was reading in my nest when I heard you calling out for Hoseok,” Namjoon replies. Hearing that, your eyebrows only furrow further in confusion.
“But- he told me he was staying with you last night? He was supposed to be back this morning, but he hadn’t shown up. It’s afternoon now, so he should have been back,” you inform. The look of shock and slight unease on Namjoon’s face worries you. “What’s wrong?” you ask.
“He wasn’t with me last night,” Namjoon replies. Your eyes widen slightly, heart thundering in your chest. Had Hoseok lied to you? Seeing the worry evident on your face, Namjoon reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, I can track him,” Namjoon says. Biting your lip, you nod your head, watching as Namjoon begins sniffing the air for Hoseok’s scent.
“He’s… he’s close?” Namjoon says, confusion laced in his voice. Namjoon gestures towards you to follow him as he begins walking behind the tower. You follow him through the thicket of trees, Namjoon sniffing the air every now and then as he tracks his friend.
Eventually, you reach a small hollowed-out cave. Your head cocks to the side as you take it in. Trees grow out of the rocks, the roots entwining around the boulders that form the entrance to the cave. Vines of ivy hang down around the entrance as iridescent mushrooms and flowers bloom around the bark that surrounds the cave. Moss blankets almost every other inch of the cave, the plush, vibrant foliage cushioning the rough terrain of the rock.
“He’s in there - and I think I hear snoring,” Namjoon says. His words confuse you - why would Hoseok be sleeping in there? Especially when he has his own room in the tower you both live in. Sure, the tower isn’t the epitome of comfort, but surely it would be better than a cave. “You wanna go in?” Namjoon asks. Taking a deep breath, you nod. Hoseok had never hidden from you before, you’ve lived together for five, almost six years now - you didn’t keep secrets from each other.
Slowly, the two of you approach the cave, dread settling deeper and deeper into your bones with every step you take. Once you pass the threshold of the cave, you expect it to be dark, and dimly lit by the light from the entrance - however, just like the tower, the inside is lit up by Hoseok’s dragon flames.
Illuminated by brilliant, amber flames of Hoseok’s dragon fire, the interior flashes in almost blinding light. Scores and scores of treasure litter the cave, different trinkets of gold and silver strewn across haphazardly. The cave is larger than you expected, Hoseok laying in the middle of it all, curled up on a little mound of gold coins. However, he doesn’t look completely like Hoseok.
No - instead, there’s a large tail springing out from his back, the leather looking appendage curling around the treasure and flicking absentmindedly as your best friend sleeps. The tail isn’t the only difference, however: two large, leather wings curl around his body, the limbs dwarfing his smaller frame, and two curled horns twist out of his head. The scales that make up his draconic features are a copper tinted red, glowing an iridescent scarlet in the bright lighting of his flames.
Suddenly, his nose twitches and then with a whine, and a huff - a puff of smoke escaping his nose - Hoseok blinks awake. The moment his eyes open, you’re met with his familiar hazel eyes, his gaze instantly finding and locking with yours. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like millennia, Namjoon quietly sneaking out and leaving the two of you by yourself.
All of a sudden, Hoseok springs to his feet, his draconic features retreating into his body as he looks at you in fear. “____- I can explain,” Hoseok quickly calls out, taking a few steps towards you. But immediately tears pool in your eyes, and before he can reach you, you run out of the cave. Blindly, you race through the forest, your chest aching with each step you take - though, you don’t know whether it’s from running or from the heartache of seeing Hoseok’s draconian attributes.
Out of the blue, you hear the heavy beating of wings before arms wind around your small form, bringing you to a stop. The telltale scent of burnt amber and pine fills your senses and despite yourself, you find yourself calming down. Sinking into Hoseok’s scent, tears heavily pool into your eyes. “Why?” you croak out, not understanding why Hoseok would hide such a huge part of himself from you. When had he changed? You know it doesn’t happen overnight - and with the amount he’s changed, it has to have been a while. How long had he kept something this big from you?
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see me like that, I’m sorry. Please don’t be scared of me. ____, please,” Hoseok begins crying, little whimpers escaping his lips as he holds you tighter. Over and over again, he keeps muttering out little apologies, his tears falling onto your shoulder and wetting the cotton of your shirt. His words ricochet through your ears, ringing loudly throughout your being. Why was he apologising?
Placing your hands onto his arm, you slowly unwind them from your body before turning to him. When you see him again, he looks like he’s always done - human - other than his eyes. The bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks mirror yours, you know they do - but unlike yours - his are filled with fear, trepidation and dread. “Hoseok? Hobi- what are you talking about? I’m not afraid of you. Why would I be?” you ask him, pushing away your hurt at having him hide his draconian form from you.
“You ran away from me- after seeing me… like that,” Hoseok whispers, his voice carrying heavy through the quiet forest. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s talking about - he thinks you’re afraid of him.
“Idiot. I ran because I was hurt, not because I was scared,” you reply quietly, your head lowering to look at the ground. He thought you were scared? How could you be? He’s Hoseok. He’s your best friend - the one who had saved you from your loneliness all those years ago.
“Hurt?” Hoseok repeats, looking at you in confusion. Nodding, you kick your feet slightly.
“You went through your change... but you didn’t tell me. Why?” you ask. Had you done something to betray his trust? Had you done something that made him feel like he couldn’t be completely honest with you?
“I was scared… I don’t- I don’t look human anymore. What if you didn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if you start to hate me?” Hoseok asks, his voice hoarse as he lays his insecurities at your feet. Tears brim in your eyes and you let out a little cry before running and hugging him tightly.
“I could never hate you- or be scared of you. Hoseok, you are my best friend. My dragonbest friend. I ran away because you kept this big secret from me. Not because I was scared of you. I’m sorry,” you apologise, feeling somewhat responsible for his pain.
“I’m sorry too. I should have trusted you…” Hoseok mumbles, returning your hug. You smile into his hug. “Are you sure… you won’t hate me? Or be scared of me? Now that I look like a monster?” Hoseok asks. You tut and shake your head.
“You’re not a monster - you’re a dragon. My dragon, remember? You promised. And yes, I’m sure,” you reply earnestly. Nothing but sincerity in your voice, Hoseok frowns.
“How?”
“Because you were there for me... when no one else was.”
Entering Hoseok’s den, you note that the torches are lit up and as usual, the dazzling amber-gold flames illuminate the cave. Hoseok’s treasure trove had grown over the years - your dragon unable to help himself whenever he’d see something shiny. Sometimes, he’d even travel to the villages that bordered the forest, looking for any shiny trinkets he could find. Gold coins, precious jewels and various different ornate articles are strewn all over the place. You know Hoseok has no use for them nor does he have any concept of monetary value - he only collects them because he likes them - but you can’t help but liken them to the gold coffers of the palace. Not that you remember much of them - just that they were filled with excessive wealth.
Eyes scouring over the cave, you find no sign of your dragon and with a sigh, you exit the den. That left only one more place he could be: the Goblin’s Glade - if he was around here. Though, looking at the sky, you know there’s no real reason for him to be anywhere else. If by some chance he’d ventured further into the forest, you had no idea where he could be - but the chances of that are slim; Hoseok very rarely went somewhere without telling you, especially now.
Turning on your heel, you trek back the way you came. Your feet move automatically as you trudge through the grass and towards the Goblin’s Glade. You’d been there so many times, the meadow being where you would frequently meet up with the rest of your friends, that the path towards it was ingrained in the soles of your feet. Some of your fondest memories took place in the meadow - including the first time you had really realised the extent of your feelings for Hoseok. Sure, you’d always had a crush on him - who wouldn’t, he was the most enamouring dragon shifter you’d ever met. Well - really the only one, but you had met other creatures - and you’d never been attracted to them like you had Hoseok.
Three years ago
“Get her!” Jimin calls out, the nymph running after you, even as you agilely escape his clutches. Your eyes widen in surprise when Jimin pops up in front of you all of a sudden.
Looking at him from the corner of your eyes, the first thing that you notice is the mahogany vines that ensnare his thick neck, pale pink blossoms and vibrant jade leaves adorning the vines. The next thing you notice is his eyes flashing magenta before he swipes you with his arm. Moving on instinct honed into you by Seokjin, you instantly duck, narrowly evading his hand. Jimin cries out in surprise and a cackle of triumph escapes your lips as you watch the nymph trip over a tree root - clearly, Yoongi had caused it to grow rapidly from the ground. Momentarily, you turn to the dryad, perched on a tree branch above you and smile at him in gratefulness.
“Thanks, Yoongi!” you call out. Suddenly, a flash of dark hair catches your eyes from the corner of your eyes - Seokjin. You let out a tut of annoyance before ducking under the elf’s arm as he attempts to wrap his arms around you. Turning around, you grin at Seokjin, sticking your tongue out before continuing your sprint.
The eight of you were currently playing a game Jungkook had coined ‘Capture the Princess’ - in which, the lot of you were split into two teams of four, one holding the princess and her knights - and the other team making up the evil villains. Really, it was just an overcomplicated game of tag. Usually, you’d draw lots for who got to be the princess, and much to your chagrin, today you’d drawn the shortest stick. Of course, it gave your friends a wonderful reason to tease you about your royal heritage - even though you’d long since abandoned it.
Your current team consisted of Yoongi, Namjoon and Taehyung - the three making up the ‘knights’ while Seokjin, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook made up the villains. With Jimin’s ankle still entangled in the roots thanks to Yoongi, and Namjoon having tackled Seokjin out of the blue, you’re left with Hoseok and Jungkook chasing you. The two-winged shifters fly above you, causing you to yelp in surprise as you make a break for the riverbank.
“____ watch out!” Taehyung calls out from the river - usually, he’d be on the ground running with the rest of you - however, after the third game he’d grown tired of his legs and retreated back to the water- feeling much more comfortable with his tail. Your eyes widen as Taehyung ricochets a jet of water just past your left shoulder, where Jungkook had attempted to swoop down to capture you. The stream of water collides directly with Jungkook’s wings, drowning the feathers in water and grounding him.
“Damn it, Taehyung! You know I can’t fly properly with wet wings,” Jungkook scowls, the competitiveness in him flaring as he pouts over missing his opportunity to capture you. A sudden flare of heat emanates from behind you, and despite yourself, you turn to look back. Jungkook’s wings are ablaze, dazzling with golden flames, the vermillion and crimson feathers scintillating under the amber-hued flashes of fire. However, the momentary distraction is all you need for Hoseok to catch up to you.
“I’ve got you!” Hoseok calls in triumph, his clawed hand gently reaching out for you. In a last-ditch effort to evade him, you skid to a halt and lower yourself, attempting to duck. However, the minute you do, your foot slides against the slippery riverbank and you feel yourself falling backwards. Hoseok instantly calls out your name, reaching for you - but it’s too late - because you’ve already fallen into the river.
The ice-cold water rushes around you, drenching your entire body in its frigid embrace. Rapidly rushing currents surround you as you submerge further into the river, your heart racing as you desperately try to hold your breath, even as you claw for the surface - but it’s n use, because the current is far too strong for you to fight - or even attempt to swim to the surface. Heart hammering in your chest, you try to keep yourself as calm as possible - knowing Taehyung would come to your rescue soon.
You don’t have to wait long, because moments after being submerged, you notice Taehyung’s strong, ice-blue scaled tail. Even deep in the river, his tail iridescences with a pearlescent hue, drawing attention to it. Desperately, you reach out for him, Taehyung’s tail beating in an almost entrancing motion as he swims towards you. It only takes him a couple of moments to fight the current and reach you, even as you’re carried further down the river. Within moments, Taehyung reaches out to you, grasping your outstretched hand tightly before turning and swimming back upwards.
Breaching the surface, you gasp for air, Taehyung quickly dragging you towards the edge of the riverbank. Instantly, you begin coughing and sputtering, trying to get the water out of your lungs before gasping for air. Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into an incredibly warm chest, the scent of burnt amber and pine filling your senses. Though, this time, you don’t need his scent to tell you it’s Hoseok - you can feel it just from the intensity of the heat he’s radiating.
“Fuck. ____, are you okay?” Hoseok asks, his hands rapidly moving over your arms, whimpers escaping his lips as he feels how utterly cold your skin is.
“F-Fine. J-J-Just cold,” you stutter out, your body shivering in an attempt to warm you up.
“You need to get her home, Hoseok,” Seokjin calls out. Hoseok nods swiftly before picking you up in his arms easily. However, you don’t hear much else, because soon, you’re blacking out.
The next thing you know, you’re waking up in your bed. Your eyebrows furrow as the memories come rushing back and you let out a small groan. By the Old Elders, you had to be more careful - the riverbank was dangerous, the surface of the river deceptively calm; hiding not only the depth but the strong currents underneath as well. The boys had warned you - hell, Taehyung himself had warned you, knowing better than anyone how harsh the currents were. Really, having experienced it, you have to wonder just howstrong Taehyung’s tail is for him to so easily navigate through those harsh conditions.
Sighing, you snuggle further into the mattress, more than happy to relish in the warmth after the freezing depths of the river. With a relaxed sigh, you snuggle further into the hard warmth that surrounds you. Wait. Hard warmth? Your bed isn’t hard. Instantly, your eyes shoot open and you come face-to-chest with none other than Hoseok. Involuntarily, a squeak of surprise escapes your lips - why was he in your bed?
Of course, this isn’t the first time you’d shared a bed - Hoseok would frequently crawl into your bed when you were younger, both as a medium of heat during the cold nights the sparse tower would experience, as well as a deterrent to your nightmares. Of course, you’d outgrown the nightmares ultimately, and eventually, you and Hoseok had created better furniture and bedding to protect yourselves - well, more you - from the cold winter nights.
Now, however, it feels different. He’s pressed tightly against you, blazing heat emanating from his chest - most likely in an attempt to warm you up, a gesture you were incredibly grateful for. Shifting back slightly, you use the opportunity to study him a little. It’s dark outside, the large window letting in thick streams of moonlight to light up your room. Had you slept the entire evening away?
Bright beams of moonlight settle over Hoseok, causing his deep, tanned skin to gleam under the pristine light. You’ve always known Hoseok is beautiful - but under the moonlight, he looks completely and utterly ethereal. His russet hair glistens, the long locks falling into his eyes. Your eyes trace his features, the elegant slant of his nose, his defined, sharp jaw, the soft swells of his cheeks - not to mention his heart-shaped, soft and utterly kissable lips.
Wait.
Kissable lips?
Instantly, heat floods your cheeks. Kissable?! Why the hell had that crossed your mind. Did you want to kiss Hoseok? I mean, of course you’ve thought about it - he was far too attractive for his own good. Not to mention how kind he is; or how his smile lights up the room, and how really, he’s the only person who can make you feel safe. Fuck - the boys had always teased you about your childhood crush, but had it somehow morphed into something more over the years?
“Boar meat… ____,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath, his eyes moving under his eyelids as he dreams about whatever it is he’s dreaming off. His mutters cause you to giggle slightly, even as you attempt to stifle them so as not to wake him up. Your gaze flicking over his features, and a smile involuntarily curling over your face, you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully as he continues mumbling. Suddenly, you stop - because if you’re smiling over the fact that he muttered your name after boar meat, you’ve got to have it bad.
“____… that’s my gold,” Hoseok mutters almost incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, a pout forming on his face. Shaking your head, you snuggle closer to him, your head resting in the crook of his nest. The moment you shuffle closer to him, Hoseok places his nose against your head before he takes in a deep breath, his arm tightening around your waist. By the Old Elders, he’s such a dork. But at least, he’s your dork.
Drawn out of your reverie, you arrive at the open field, a smile on your face as you remember the day fondly. There was nothing that soothed you or brought you as much happiness as Hoseok’s embrace. Something about being in his arms just felt right, felt like safety - like home, in a way nothing else did. Which is why, you have to find him soon - because with every moment that passes without you knowing where he is, or if he’s okay, your heart grips with worry and fear. You have no idea what you would do if you lost Hoseok.
Entering the clearing, you scan the area for any signs of life, your friends, or even Hoseok. However, as usual, no one is to be seen. You pull your lower lip between your teeth, chewing on it as worry clouds your head. It’s dark now: the sun has long since set. The moon is out in full force, illuminating the forest in its dewy, pristine light. That was something you were eternally grateful for - the magic of the forest amplified the moonlight, allowing all the creatures that made the forest their home to see clearly at night. Nonetheless, bioluminescent mushrooms light the ground, prismatic flowers incandesce around the trees: their vines clinging to the bark, while opalescent fireflies flitter about; their gleaming light only lighting up the forest further. It’s as if, under the light of the moon, the forest came to life.
Hoping beyond hope, and sending a silent prayer to any of the Old Elders of the Forest that would listen to you, you pray that you had somehow missed Hoseok and that by some miracle he was back at the tower. A sliver of dread passes through you, what if something had happened to him? It was no longer safe for him to be out for long times - not since you’d turned eighteen. The day after your eighteenth birthday, princes and their guards had begun turning up at the forest, looking for you, ready to slay the dragon and rescue you. Of course, it was all ridiculous - because you didn’t needrescuing - you’re happy where you are - with Hoseok. Sure, you’d tried explaining that to the princes, but they hadn’t listened to you, instead, trying their best to fight Hoseok.
All of a sudden, you hear a commotion coming from near where your tower is located. It seems like people are yelling and your chest immediately tightens, your eyes widening as your hands begin trembling with fear. Then, a roar. A dragon roar. Turning on your heel instantly, you sprint back towards the tower, your feet thundering across the grass-cushioned ground as you run as fast as you can. Racing back, your heart hammers in your chest, your lungs burning for oxygen while the muscles in your leg smart at being pushed so hard so suddenly - but you implore them to move faster - you have to get to Hoseok.
Skidding to a halt when you reach the tower, your heart leaps to the back of your throat, your knees almost buckling at the sight. Hoseok is heavily leaning on Yoongi, the dryad’s support the only thing keeping him up. Seokjin, Taehyung, and Namjoon driving off the last of the vanguard, the knights retreating under the merciless barrage of arrows, rapid jets of water and unrelenting gusts of wind from your friends. Bright flashes light up the night as magic spells fly around, the guards trying their best to retreat from the commotion. However, you ignore your friends, instead, running towards Hoseok.
“W-what happened?” you cry out as you help Yoongi support Hoseok. Your dragon whines reassuringly, though it comes out more pained than anything, trying to let you know he’s okay. Now that you’re closer to him, you notice the sheen of perspiration that coats his forehead, his clothing ripped in various places, belying the various cuts and scrapes that litter his skin.
“Those knights invaded the forest. They were looking for you and found Hoseok instead. When we heard the commotion, Hoseok was already fighting them - he’s badly hurt. One of them shot him in the stomach as he tried to flee,” Yoongi replies through gritted teeth. Involuntarily, a sob escapes your lips, though you stifle it. This is no time for you to be crying, Hoseok needs your help.
Carrying Hoseok into the tower, you and Yoongi begin lifting him up the stairs. “We need to get him to my room. His room is too far up the tower, we won’t be able to get him up there,” you quickly say, even as you try to blink away the tears. This is all your fault. If you weren’t with Hoseok, if Hoseok hadn’t promised to protect you, none of this would be happening to him.
“Stop worrying - he’ll be fine. Jimin went to get Jungkook,” Yoongi snaps, his green eyes flashing. You bite your lip - you’d spent so much time with the boys, that you could read each other clearly. “Also stop blaming yourself. You belong here, and Hoseok would fight anyone and anything that would try taking you away,” Yoongi reprimands and you know he means well, but it only has you feeling guiltier.
“That’s the problem,” you whisper. You don’t want Hoseok to fight, you want him safe, with you, for as long as you can have him. Before Yoongi can reply, the door to the tower bursts open, Namjoon and Seokjin quickly scaling the tower stairs and reaching you in no time. Seokjin swiftly takes your position, helping Hoseok up the stairs and towards your room, something you’re utterly thankful for. Hoseok was a lot heavier than he looked.
“How are you doing?” Namjoon asks, looking at you in worry. His eyes trail from your tear-filled eyes to your slightly swollen face.
“I’m not the one hurt, Namjoon,” you reply, almost bitterly.
It’s all your fault.
As if reading your thoughts, Namjoon pulls you in for a hug. His strong arms wrap around your body, enveloping it in his embrace, but your hands stay limply against your sides. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask to have those princes come to save you. None of us blame you, and Hoseok definitely doesn’t either,” Namjoon says quietly. A sob escaping your mouth, you muffle them, and instead, causing you to hiccup.
“But I blame myself,” you reply quietly. Namjoon tuts slightly but tightens his embrace.
“Come on, let’s go. Jungkook’s probably already up there,” Namjoon says before taking your hand in his and leading you up towards your room. You get there just in time to see Jungkook fly in through your window, his body shifted into his complete phoenix form as Jimin clings to his back.
You watch as Jungkook perches beside your bed, leaning over Hoseok, his glowing teal eyes roving over each and every inch of Hoseok’s body as he examines all his injuries. His gaze stops directly over his stomach, where an open wound lies - most likely where the arrow punctured Hoseok. Closing his eyes, Jungkook lets little teardrops fall over Hoseok’s body, starting from his stomach and making his way around any cuts and scrapes your dragon has. Instantly, the phoenix tears begin working their magic, Hoseok’s skin knitting back together until it seems he hasn’t been hurt at all. Seeing his wounds clear up, you let out a deep sigh of relief. Once he’s all patched up, Jungkook shifts back into his human form.
“He’s fine now, his wounds are all healed. But he’ll need to rest for a couple of hours. He’ll also need some food to get up his strength, he’s pretty much exhausted of any energy,” Jungkook informs, his gaze levelled on you.
“I have dinner prepared, but I can’t get the fire started without Hoseok,” you mutter.
Nodding, “Alright, let’s go. I’ll light it up for you,” Jungkook says before gesturing you out of the room.
“We’ll also leave. We’ll see you tomorrow to check up on him,” Seokjin says before guiding the rest of the members out. However, before leaving, he places his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. You relish in his comfort, sending him a grateful smile. Then he leaves.
Guiding Jungkook towards the kitchen, you gesture him towards the filled pot. Gently, Jungkook sucks in a deep breath before blowing gently, a stream of golden flames emanating from his mouth. It’s not as ferocious as Hoseok’s fire, nor does it burn at hot, but there’s a certain warmth through it. You watch as Jungkook leans over the pot, a grin on his face. “Boar meat? He’ll love that when he wakes up,” he comments, stirring the pot. Then, you watch in confusion as Jungkook drops another tear into the pot. “That’ll help him gain his strength quicker. Don’t worry so much, when he wakes up he’ll be fully healed and as energised as he always is,” Jungkook says. You nod quietly, muttering your thanks.
Jungkook looks at you intently, your eyes downcast and refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s not-” Jungkook begins, but before he can finish, you let out a bitter scoff.
“It’s not my fault I know. Everyone keeps saying that, but it feels like my fault. If I wasn’t here, Hoseok wouldn’t be hurt. If I wasn’t here, those princes and knights wouldn’t come to the forest. If I wasn’t here, you’d all be better off. I’m a danger to all of you,” you suddenly burst out, your fists clenched as you breathe heavily.
“Do you really believe that?” Jungkook asks, his head cocking to the side. Jaw flexing as you grit your teeth, you nod while clenching your fist tighter, your fingernails digging into your skin.
“Yeah okay. Sure, if you weren’t here Hoseok wouldn’t be hurt. And sure, if you weren’t here those princes and knights wouldn’t keep coming. But you’re wrong in thinking that we’d be better without you. Hoseok would be heartbroken - he’d be crushed if you were to go. And so would the rest of us. We’re not just friends anymore, ____. We’re family. And every single one of us loves you and we’d fight to keep you here. In the forest. Where you belong. With us. Because that’s what family do,” Jungkook says, nothing but conviction in his eyes.
His words cause your eyes to tear up, your chest swelling with all the emotions you feel. Guilt. Worry. Happiness. Love. The conflicting feelings well up in your chest, causing your throat to tighten. It’s like you’re tongue-tied, unable to even form the words to express what Jungkook’s words mean to you. So instead, you simply smile at him, Jungkook responding with his own reassuring smile.
“I’ve got to go, but take care of him alright? And stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” Jungkook jokes.
Then, with a wink, you watch as his back lights up with blazing gold flames, and then, he flies out the window. You turn to the pot, watching the water boil as the meat and vegetables soften into a thick stew. Grabbing a ladle, you begin stirring the pot absentmindedly, wondering how long it’d be till Hoseok woke up.
Once the stew is ready, you grab a bowl and begin serving Hoseok a portion. Carefully, you carry it up to your room before placing it on the rickety table beside your bed. The sight of the table brings a sad smile on your face. It’s uneven, and wobbles but Hoseok had built it for you with his own hands when you were both younger. With a deep breath, you pull up a ramshackle chair and sit besides Hoseok, simply watching over him. You sit for a while, tending to Hoseok - wiping the sweat off of his forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes and ensuring he’s comfortable.
Once again, the moonlight streams through your window, highlighting his elegant features. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he were the prince sent to rescue you. But you do know better - and he’s no prince. He’s a dragon. Your dragon. Soft sigh escaping your lips, you think back to your eighteenth birthday. It had been so easy back then, before the princes had started coming.
10 months ago
Feet shuffling, “Are you sure we can do this?” you ask, looking at Hoseok uneasily. Even as you utter your words, your dragon best friend ignores you, instead, pulling a boat out of a small alcove. You’re currently in the Merfolk Mangroves, the river that runs through it being the only way to sneak out of the enchanted forest. Sure, you could always walk to the border, but then you risked being stopped by the elves that patrolled the border - and Hoseok didn’t want any questions.
“It’s alright - don’t worry. It’s a special day, we’re gonna do something exciting!” Hoseok says cheerily as he tethers the dingy boat to the docks.
Looking around nervously, you do as Hoseok says: keeping a lookout. You’ve been to the Merfolk Mangroves a fair amount in your time in the forest, yet it never fails to amaze you each and every time. Gigantuous roots from the even more colossal mangroves twist and wind around the area, providing the environment with plenty of cover. The roots are a deep oak in colour, the bark obscured by thick blankets of olivine moss and supple viridian leaves. Streams of water drip from the roots of the mangroves, cascading downwards and into the river the runs along the forest floor.
The musky scent of the earth and the dewy scent of freshwater is thick in the air, clouding your scenes and bathing your nose in its enticing smell. An array of different creatures make their home in the Merfolk Mangroves - merfolk, of course, live in the different shallows of water - surface merfolk closer to to the riverbank and deep-river merfolk further down towards the riverbed. Nymphs, fae and elves made their homes on the branches and canopies of the trees; and of course, dryads of all kinds carved intricate burrows into the trunks. In fact, the Merfolk Mangroves is where most of the population of the forest lived - only very few lived outside the safety and magic of its comfort.
Suddenly, a voice calls out “Whatcha doing?” Instantaneously, you jump, almost slipping on the slippery bank. However, before you can fall, two hands steady you. Once comes from behind you: Hoseok, and the other, from in front. Fuck. It’s Seokjin. Looking behind him, you let out a moan of lamentation - because the rest of the boys - except for Taehyung - are also behind him, the lot of them looking at you cheekily. Though, you have no doubt that Taehyung is somewhere in the river.
“Going somewhere?” comes Taehyung’s deep, gravelly voice, causing you to sigh - and there he is.
“How did you find us?” Hoseok yells in indignation, throwing the rope that tethers the boat to the pier down. The boys only chuckle, before looking around.
“Some elves noticed you and ____ sneaking around and informed me - and well, some mermaids spotted you here and told Taehyung. So, where ya going?” Seokjin says. Hoseok curses under his breath, more than miffed that his plan had been ruined.
Hand running through his hair, “It’s ____’s eighteenth birthday - I’m taking her to the village on the edge of the forest to celebrate,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath, knowing you’ve been caught. Though, you do count your blessings that Seokjin is the elven prince - meaning that you’re not really in trouble for trying to sneak out. It had come as a surprise to you when you’d found out your friend, and the boy who’d been like your older brother while growing up, was next in line for the throne - but it had made sense. Seokjin is a powerful elf, and probably the best marksman in the entire elven vanguard.
“Hoseokie, you know it’s dangerous for the forest creatures to leave. Humans don’t like us - they hunt us for fun. Just last week a unicorn was found dead at our borders,” Seokjin says warily. Your eyes widen, a gasp falling from your lips. Unicorns were wholly innocent - who would want to kill one? Just the thought of it has you feeling sick.
“I know… I just… I wanted to do something different for her,” Hoseok mutters before looking away, his eyes downcast. Eyes softening, you look at him tenderly.
“Hobi… you don’t have to do that for me,” you reply, Hoseok shrugging.
“I know I don’t- but I want to,” comes his reply.
Seokjin lets out a little sigh before running his hand through his hair. You look at him curiously - he stands tall, his dark hair falling to his shoulders, some strands swept out of his face. Bright gold eyes glitter in the sparse beams of light that fall through the mangrove canopy, his pointed ears twitching slightly.
“There’s a tavern - just on the outskirts of the forest. It’s run by a fae I knew when I was younger. Humans and magical creatures are both allowed, but because of that, you can imagine it’s not the nicest of places. I’ll grant you permission to go for today,” Seokjin begins. As soon as he begins speaking, Hoseok’s ears twitch, his head snapping up and excitement brimming in his deep hazel eyes. “However,” Seokjin continues, a teasing smirk crawling on his face, “we have to come with you,” he finishes.
Spluttering in outrage, “What?! Why?” Hoseok bursts.
“It’s ____’s eighteenth birthday, do you really think we’d forget? Or not want to celebrate with her?” Yoongi asks, his eyes rolling as he looks pointedly at Hoseok.
“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t invite us,” Jimin pouts, looking at Hoseok in playful ire.
“It’s not fair Hoseokie, you can’t keep the princess to yourself,” Namjoon teases, a knowing look evident on his face. Hearing his words, both you and Hoseok blush brightly, your heads turning from each other, even as you sneakily steal side glances towards the other.
“Come on! Let’s go! I’m excited, I’ve never been out the forest,” Jungkook says, already jumping into the boat. Knowing there’s no way to get his friends to leave, Hoseok lets out a sigh of defeat, his shoulders drooping. Really, he was hoping it would be just you and him, but with the arrival of his stubborn friends, he knew it wouldn’t be possible. Really, this was the real reason he had tried to sneak out.
The seven of you cautiously enter the boat, Taehyung choosing to swim beside you until you reached the outskirts of the forest. Though, you think he did it more considering how cramped the small boat already was. You’re currently pressed between Hoseok and Yoongi’s laps, Jimin sitting on Seokjin’s lap as Namjoon and Jungkook squeeze themselves in the back.
The eight of you float down the river, carried by the gentle current Taehyung generates with his powerful tail, making sure that the boat doesn’t catch the more powerful currents underneath. You watch in awe as the forest passes you by - different creatures milling about. Fairies flitter around the high tree branches, showers of magic and fairy dust falling gently from their wings. Little pods of merfolk swim around, some sitting on the boulders on the shore waving to Taehyung before giggling between themselves.
“Woah look at that,” Jungkook says, pointing to the other side of the river. You all turn your gaze, your eyes widening when you spot the pegasus at the edge, gently sipping water.
“By the Elders, it’s rare to see pegasi, even in the forest. They’re male celestial beings, - borne only under certain conditions - when a drop of moonlight falls from the sky and onto a morning glory. Being solitary beasts, they shy away from the rest of the forest’s creatures. Today must be a lucky day, huh ____?” Seokjin asks, smiling happily at you. You nod slowly, unable to take your eyes off the creature.
Its coat is as white as white could be - so pure that it glows softly with every movement - as if made of moonlight - though, from what Seokjin says, they are moonlight themselves. His mane idly drifts around him, dancing with each gentle wisp of wind that combs through his hair. Large, white-feathered wings spring out from his back, the wingspan almost dwarfing his equine body. Each further is iridescent, gleaming in a kaleidoscope of pure pastel colours. You’ve never seen anything like it - and you’ll never see anything like it again. You can feel it - this is a once in a lifetime experience.
“There it is! The edge of the forest!” Jimin calls out, abruptly standing up in the boat and pointing towards a clearing. His sudden movement causes the boat to rock dangerously, everyone yelling out in surprise.
“Jimin! Be careful,” Namjoon admonishes. The nymph lets out a sheepish smile before taking his seat on Seokjin’s lap again.
As soon as you float through the clearing, Taehyung twists the water currents, helping the boat move to shore. Hoping out, Seokjin and hoseok drag the boat the rest of the way onto the shore, docking it until you’re ready to return home. The alcove you find yourselves is attached by a small stream to the river that runs through the enchanted forest, and really, it doesn’t look all that different. Trees line the alcove, providing ample shade with its supple foliage. The sand is soft, your sandals sinking into the ground as soon as you step onto it - but something is different.
There’s no magic in the air. No potent crackling of life or enchanting tingles or energy wafting through the atmosphere. It feels slightly strange - empty - especially since you’ve been used to the forest’s magic for over a decade of your life. Suddenly, you feel a little uneasy. Was it okay for you to leave? Would your friends be okay? Almost as if sensing your worry, Hoseok walks up beside you, his hand entwining in yours before he squeezes it reassuringly. You look up at him, smiling at him in thanks before returning his squeeze.
“Are we ready?” Seokjin asks, taking charge of navigation - which makes sense, considering he’s the only one who knows where the tavern is. You turn to the rest of your friends, noticing Taehyung’s already pulled himself out of the river and is now dressed in simple brown trousers, leather boots and a white shirt. It always surprised you that he could simply magic up some clothes for himself whenever he stepped out the water.
Guiding the group out of the alcove and out of the sparse underbrush of shrubbery, Seokjin brings you to a little hut just on the outskirts of the forest. You spot little lights a little further down - a small village just a few kilometres further down from the forest edge. You follow Seokjin closely, the group practically glued to him as you look around in wonder.
The moment you enter the tavern, your senses are overwhelmed. The atmosphere is warm, borderline stuffy from all the patrons crowding it - really, you’d be lucky to get a table for all of you together. The scent of alcohol is thick in the air, the pungent smell burning your nostrils, causing you to wrinkle your nose. Abruptly, someone bumps into you, pushing you out of the way and spilling some ale on your shoes. With a little frustrated sigh, you push further against Hoseok. Why had you chosen to come here when you could be doing something else? However, remember how excited Hoseok had been to take you out of the forest, you can’t help but smile. He had meant well, and really, this is all Seokjin’s fault anyway - he’s the one who suggested the tavern.
“Jaebum!” Seokjin calls out, the bartender looking up. His eyes flash mulberry for a moment, his dark hair framing his face in that typical, dark, bad boy style. His pointed ears are pierced in multiple locations, a silver ring sitting on his bottom lip. Even his nose and cheek are pierced - how many piercings did one guy need?
“Seokjin, what brings you to my neck of the woods? The forest too boring for you?” Jaebum asks snarkily. Seokjin simply rolls his eyes before gesturing to the group.
“It’s my friend’s birthday. We need a table,” Seokjin says simply. Jaebum rolls his own eyes before shrugging.
“Nowhere’s available,” comes Jaebum’s simple answer.
With a tut, “You know that’s not true. You couldn’t best me in illusions when we were younger, and you definitely can’t best me now,” Seokjin replies, a victorious smirk crawling onto his face. Illusions? You watch as Jaebum scowls, and then suddenly, the atmosphere ripples before changing. You watch in awe as the once crowded bar dies down right before your eyes. It’s still full, just not nearly as much as it was before. You even easily spot a table large enough to hold you and your friends.
“Thanks, Bummie,” Seokjin sing songs, causing the bartender to scowl further. Seokjin leads you to the table, gesturing to Jaebum to bring each of you a pint of ale. Appearing out of thin air, you expect a tankard of ale or something similar - but you’re pleasantly surprised by the jug of a sweet-smelling beverage in front of you.
“It’s Sugar Venom - a fae spirit. Some of the best there is. Jaebum may be a shitty spellcast, but no one can ferment spirits quite like him,” Seokjin says, a large grin on his face as he sips his drink. You watch as each of the boys looks at it curiously, before taking a sip. The sweetness tingles on your lips, the drink easily going down from how enticingly saccharine it is.
Almost an hour after drinking, all of you find yourself pleasantly tipsy, your tongue loosened by the flowing alcohol. Only Seokjin, Hoseok and Jungkook find themselves unaffected by the effects of the fae spirit. Seokjin because he was more than used to his fair share of alcohol, while Hoseok and Jungkook were unable to become intoxicated in any way - their high body temperature burning off alcohol quicker than it could affect them.
“Y-You know, hic-” Namjoon slurs, being interrupted by a hiccup, “you and ____ would make such a cute couple, Hobi,” Namjoon continues, a sleepy smile on his face. Seokjin lets out a chuckle, clapping Namjoon on the back while Jungkook snickers, Hoseok looking away in embarrassment. He steals a glance towards you; you’re smiling gently, your cheeks flushed as you look at him coyly. Though, he’s unsure if the warmth to your cheeks is because of the alcohol or embarrassment.
“I agree! How long are you gonna make us wait, Hobi? We’re tired of watching you and ____, you know,” Jimin scowls, his voice coming out louder than he’d intended. Yoongi hushes him, the two falling into a fit of giggles over seemingly nothing.
“Come on Hobi-Hobi, we’re all waiting,” Taehyung joins in, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at the dragon. Well, attempting to waggle them - in his inebriated state of mind he only manages to move them slightly.
“Yeah Hobi, ____ has been waiting a very long time for you to tell her you love her. Do you not love ____, Hobi?” you ask, your words surprising everyone. Hoseok looks at you in alarm as you begin addressing yourself in the third person, ranting and raving about how it’s not fair that he’s made you wait this long for a confession.
“____, are you okay?” Seokjin asks, looking at you in worry, even as a hint of amusement shines in his eyes.
“No!” you pout, your arms crossing around your chest as you look at Hoseok, “____ has been waiting very long for Hobi to say he loves ____. It’s not fair. ____ loves Hobi very much…” you trail off, “but he doesn’t love ____,” you mumble under your breath. The effects of the alcohol are clear and you know usually, you wouldn’t dare say any of this, but the alcohol has made you loosen your inhibitions slightly, your tongue freed under its influence. Hoseok’s heart begins beating roughly as he hears your unintended confession. Do you mean you love him as a friend… or something more?
“____ just wants Hobi kisses,” you pout, pathetically lamenting to yourself in your tipsy state. Hoseok takes in a deep breath, his heart fluttering in his chest. You love him? Like he loves you? Unable to suppress it, a wide grin crawls onto Hoseok’s face. He reaches out towards you, slipping your hand between his, your fingers entwining as he squeezes it reassuringly. Feeling his touch, you perk up, your demeanour doing a completely one-eighty as you begin smiling brightly.
“Hey pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?” comes a voice from behind you. You don’t notice, too busy gazing at Hoseok with starstruck eyes. However, immediately, Hoseok, Seokjin and Jungkook are alert, eyeing the large man in steel armour behind you warily.
“Oi, lady,” the man repeats, trying to get you to notice him, only to get annoyed when he realises your undivided attention is on the dragon next to you. Noticing the man lift his hand, Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously, immense heat radiating around him. The boys at the table suddenly jump, blinking wearily, alcohol still clouding their heads, as they look at Hoseok’s, the tavern’s temperature rising rapidly.
“Hoseok,” Seokjin warns, looking around warily. The man’s friends have obviously noticed the commotion, all of them placing their hands on their weapons, ready to defend their friend.
“Just move along,” Hoseok growls, the sound low and threatening.
The man, realising the danger of the situation, puts his hands up in surrender before retreating. Before he leaves, however, “Why would a human want to be with a monster of all things,” he drunkenly mutters under his breath. Instantly, the heat surrounding Hoseok is doused, his spine-shivering as if Taehyung had dumped ice-cold water down his back. Hoseok’s hand turns limp in your hand, his previous happiness forgotten. The guard had a point - why would you ever want to be with him? He was a dragon, he lived in a forest - and sure you did too - but he could never give you the life you deserved.
“You could have hurt her, you know,” Seokjin sighs, shaking his head at Hoseok. The dragon simply sends an annoyed glance towards the older boy, a huff escaping his nose.
“I’d never hurt her. My flames can’t hurt her,” Hoseok says, Seokjin’s eyes widening at the admission, realising the gravity of Seokjin’s words. A fire dragon’s flames burned hotter than hellfire - and Hoseok wasn’t just an ordinary fire dragon - he was a sun dragon: their flames burning at hot and bright as the sun itself. For Hoseok’s flames to not be able to hurt you, there was only one explanation. Hoseok had chosen you to be his mate.
“Hoseok, are you serious? Does she know?” Seokjin asks, looking at you. The dragon simply shakes his head before standing up. He holds his hand out for you, and eagerly, you place yours in his. Pulling you to your feet, you stumble slightly, Hoseok easily catching you before steadying you against his side. Grinning brightly at him, you muster your alcohol-given courage, and stepping on your tip-toes, place a kiss on his cheek.
“We should go home. It’s getting late,” Hoseok says, ignoring the way his skin tingles from where your soft lips brushed oh so innocently against his flesh.
Seokjin looks at him pointedly before nodding. Waving his hands at the boys, he urges them to get up. One hand wrapped around your waist, he guides you out of the tavern, but not before throwing a leather-bound bag of gold to Jaebum in payment for the alcohol. Hoseok crinkles his nose in distaste, not really wanting to hand over his precious gold to the barkeep, but knowing it was worth it if you had a good birthday.
The next thing you know, you’re waking up in your bedroom, Hoseok gently placing you down on your bed. When had you fallen asleep? You remember Hoseok carrying you out of the bar and towards the boat. He’d been incredibly warm, his body heat a creature comfort against the chill of the night. Clearly, you’d fallen asleep on the journey home. “Hoseok?” you croak. The haziness of the alcohol had mostly ebbed away by now, your cheeks tinging pink as you remember how you’d acted earlier in the night. You’re just lucky it’s dark in your bedroom, preventing Hoseok from noticing your embarrassment.
“Shh, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” Hoseok mumbles, as he tucks you into bed.
Swallowing thickly, you gather up your courage. You had to say in now, “I meant what I said earlier. I like you… more than a friend,” you rasp, swallowing once again as the words escape your lips. Hoseok smiles gently at you, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyelids flutter, your forehead nuzzling into the warmth of his hand.
“I know you did, but… can you give me some time?” Hoseok asks, his voice quiet, as if afraid to utter out the words. Smiling tenderly at him, you sluggishly lift your hand and entwine your fingers into his.
Then, bringing his hand to your lips, you press a soft kiss against the back of his hand. “Time? I’ll give you all the time you need, Hoseok. I’d wait for you forever. I love you,” you whisper, voice laced with nothing but love. Hoseok’s chest tightens, his heart fluttering between his ribcage.
“I love you too,” Hoseok whispers back, however, you’re already fast asleep, his confession falling on deaf ears. He sits for another few moments, simply watching you sleep. He does love you - there’s no truer truth in the world than his love for you. It was only reinforced by his dragon choosing you as his mate. But his mind flashes back to the tavern, ‘Why would a human want to be with a monster of all things’. The man’s words ring loudly in his head, and Hoseok has to wonder if his love was enough for you - if he was enough for you.
Looking at Hoseok, you smile sadly at him. You had meant what you said that night, you would wait forever for him - but looking at him now, you wonder if you even should. After that night, the knights and princes had started invading the forest - looking out for you. They would come randomly, giving Hoseok no time to prepare for them, but your dragon is strong, and fierce and ferocious - with the power of the sun burning inside his chest, and time after time, he’d manage to drive away the princes or knights, or whoever came for you.
Except for today.
Today is the first time Hoseok’s been so badly injured - if it were anywhere else, the arrows would have deflected off of his dragonhide, his scales harder than the strongest metals. But he’d been hit in his stomach, the only weak point in his leather armour. It has been almost a year since they started coming for you - though, you have no idea why. You know your stepmother had said to leave you here till a prince could come to save you, but you hadn’t believed her. You knew she wanted to be rid of you - so whywere they coming? It doesn’t make sense.
You avert your gaze from Hoseok’s face, instead, staring intently at his hand. Hesitantly, you reach out for it, mindless playing with his fingers as you ponder your thoughts. Was it worth going back? You didn’t want Hoseok to be hurt - you never want to see him like this again. But in order to never see him hurt again, you have to never see him again and you don’t think your heart could take it. For the last decade, Hoseok is all you’ve known, all you’ve needed. Could you so easily leave him? Definitely not - at least, not easily. But you could leave him - it would hurt, more than you could even imagine - but you could do it, if it meant he’d be safe.
“Should- should I leave?” you mutter quietly to yourself, your eyebrows furrowing.
“Please don’t,” comes a hoarse reply.
Head snapping towards Hoseok, your eyes widen as you realise he’s awake. “Hoseok!” you cry out. Immediately, you begin fussing over him, making sure he’s okay. Hoseok lets out a little chuckle before grabbing your hands and stilling you.
“I’m okay. I’m a dragon remember? Also, nothing will heal you faster than Jungkook’s tears,” Hoseok says, smiling brightly at you. Your heart grips in your chest seeing his smile, the little dimples indenting above his lips.
“Oh! That reminds me, here, you should eat,” you say, picking up the bowl of the now cold stew and handing it to Hoseok. “Sorry it’s cold, I made it a while ago,” you apologise. Hoseok simply stares at the bowl, however, blinking in disbelief.
Taking a deep breath, “Is that boar meat?” Hoseok asks, his body perking up. Despite yourself, you smile at him, nodding happily. Hoseok swiftly grabs the bowl from you, then lightly breathing fire under the bowl, he heats it up again before tucking in. You simply watch him quietly, relishing in how happy he looks with a simple bowl of boar stew. Even doing the most mundane of things, he’s enticing.
As he eats, your earlier question still plays in your mind. Over and over again, like a broken record, your mind questions whether you should just leave - go back to the Kingdom with the next prince that comes for you. Finishing off his meal, Hoseok lets out a moan of gratitude before placing the bowl down. You get up to take it, however, Hoseok reaches out, his large hand wrapping around your wrist and halting you. You freeze, looking at him in surprise. His gaze is firm, yet melancholy, bright hazel eyes boring straight into yours.
“Would you really leave me?” Hoseok asks, his voice barely audible - just above a whisper. Goosebumps pricking at your skin, your face crumples with emotion.
“I don’t want to leave you Hoseok, but I- I can’t stand seeing you hurt. I can’t help but feel guilty because I’m the reason they’re coming, and I’m the reason for you being hurt. Seeing you today- I don’t- I don’t want to lose you,” you sniffle, your words coming out broken as you breathe deeply, trying to hold the tears back.
“If you don’t want to lose me, why would you leave?” Hoseok asks, not understanding your logic. Well, he does - somewhat - but it still doesn’t make sense. It’s not like any of the princes could best him in battle anyway - the only reason he was hurt today was because he was caught off guard.
“To protect you! It’s my fault you were hurt today,” you reply with a sniffle. Hoseok looks at you pointedly, shaking his head.
“It’s not your fault-” Hoseok begins and you open your mouth to argue, but Hoseok stops you. Abruptly, he tugs at your wrist, pulling you into his chest. Arms wrapping around you, he holds you close, “It’s not your fault because I choose to fight for you, ____. I promised you I’d protect you. I’ll never stop protecting you, ____ and I’ll never stop fighting for you - because you belong here. In this forest. In this tower. With me,” Hoseok says. Conviction is strong in his voice, his eyes staring at you earnestly.
“What if you get tired of protecting me? What if I lose you?” you mumble, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Burnt amber and pine fill your senses, your eyes fluttering shut as you breathe him in. Nothing felt like safety - nothing felt like home - the same way Hoseok did.
“I would never tire of protecting you and you would never lose me. I’m here for as long as you want me,” Hoseok says, his lithe arm tightening around your waist.
“How are you so sure?” you question, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. Hoseok is always attentive - but this time, his touch is different - more intimate. His head drops to your shoulder, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck - and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he just took in a deep breath.
Goosebumps prickle at your skin as Hoseok’s hand wanders down your arm, your skin tingling under his touch. When he gets to your hand, he wraps your palm in his much large one while lacing his fingers between yours. Gently lifting your hand, his head shifts as he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist, “Because I love you. Because you’re who I chose to be my mate. Because I would protect you until the end of the world,” he confesses, his voice soft and heavily laden with emotion.
“W-what?” you ask. Pushing him back slightly, you shift over him, absentmindedly making yourself more comfortable on his lap as you stare at him in disbelief. Hoseok smiles gently at you from underneath, one hand reaching up and cupping your face.
“You’re my mate, ____. You’re who I choose to spend the rest of my life with. But- only if you want to,” Hoseok replies, pulling your chin down and leaning his forehead against yours. You stare intently into his eyes, your heart beating so rapidly you worry it’s going to burst right out of your chest. Searching, you stare into his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, any sign of a lie - Hoseok has never lied to you before, but you have to make sure.
“A-Are you sure? You want to spend the rest of your life with me?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You were just a human - someone who hadn’t even been wanted by your own parents, abandoned in the tower at a young age - did he really want to mate with you?
“Yes. You’re the only person I want to be with… but do you want to be with me?” Hoseok asks, his eyes imploring yours. Eyebrows furrowing, you look at him in confusion.
“Why would I not want to be with you? You’re the only person I want to be with too, Hoseok,” you ask, rubbing your nose against his. Hoseok lets out a dejected sigh, his eyes slightly downcast as his warm breath fans your lips.
“Because I’m a monster,” Hoseok whispers, his heart-gripping. He knows that’s what humans see him as - just like that man in the tavern that day. He’ll only ever be a monster to humans and you deserve someone better than a monster.
Placing your hands under his chin, you lift his face up. Hoseok’s eyes meet yours, his widening as he notices the mix of melancholy, understand and love in your eyes. “I meant what I said all those years ago, my love,” you say gently, Hoseok’s eyes widening in the slightest at the term of endearment. Lips curling into a tender smile, you place your head against his again and close your eyes, “You’re not a monster - you’re a dragon. My dragon,” you continue. Your words echo through his memory, and he remembers that day - when you were twelve and he was fourteen - months after he’d gone through his change. He’d hidden from you back then too, scared of how you’d seen him, but just like today, you’d alleviated all his fears with those same, simple words.
“I love you, Hoseok. Every. Single. Inch. Of you. And I want to be with you and only you - forever,” you whisper against his lips. Hoseok’s eyes flicker to your lips, your own eyes still closed as you hold him close. With every one of your words, your lips brush against him - enticing him further into you. He’s the one who’s made of magic, made of sunlight and fire, yet it’s you that has him completely bewitched and enthralled.
He wonders what your lips would feel like against yours - what you’d taste like - but, he doesn’t have to wait long - because the next thing he knows, your lips are softly pressed against his.
Soft lips against yours, Hoseok’s eyes widen for a fraction of a moment before slipping shut. He’d spent nights imagining what your lips would feel like, but his imagination could never do you any justice. Instinctively, his hand moves to loosely grip your neck, your own hands moving of their own accord to twist around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Deepening the kiss, Hoseok swipes at your lips, begging for entrance - and easily, you concede to him. Tongue slipping between your teeth, the silky appendage sensuously moves against yours, bathings your tastebuds in his saccharine taste.
Your kiss is slow - and sensual - your lips gently moving in tandem with each other as you slowly take in each other. Completely lost in each other, the entirety of the world gently ebbs away - until all you can taste, sense and smell are each other - as if you’re the only two people in the universe. Shifting on his lap, you press yourself further against Hoseok, the dragon letting out a small whine as you brush against his hardened length.
Breaking apart from your lips, Hoseok pants heavily, looking at you heavily, “W-we should stop now if you don’t want to go any further,” Hoseok breathes out. Shaking your head, you place another tender kiss to his lips before hiking your dress further up your thighs, the material pooling around Hoseok’s lap. With your movement, he takes in a sharp breath, the scent of your arousal permeating the air. It’s incredibly faint - but his enhanced senses pick it up.
“I want to- I want you, please,” you rasp out, your own heavy breaths intermingling with his. A guttural, almost animalistic sound emanates from Hoseok’s throat - the sound vibrating through the air and straight to your loins. Hoseok’s hands move to your waist before languidly resting on your hips - his thumbs gently rubbing them with his thumbs. Manoeuvring you closer to him, he lightly begins peppering kisses down the outline of your jaw and towards your shapely neck. Stopping by your jugular, Hoseok hums before nipping the skin there. Hands moving from his shoulders to entangle into his hair, a shallow gasp departs your lips as you feel him almost imperceptibly suckle at your flesh.
“Will you let me mark you?” Hoseok asks, nuzzling the same spot with his nose before taking a deep breath. Your naturally sweet fragrance mingles with the deeper tinges of arousal seeping from you, the intoxication scent slowly driving him while.
Feeling him purr against you, you nod above him, “Mate with me, Hoseok. Mark me as yours,” you reply breathlessly. His eyes roll into the back of his skull, his shaft twitching with excitement as you whisper the words - not a single moment of hesitation. He’d never thought words could sound so enticing.
Humming in appreciation, Hoseok diverts his attention away from your neck and down your sternum. Littering his descent with soft kisses, Hoseok’s lips flit across your skin, lavishing you with their soft attention. Writhing over his lap, you slowly begin grinding into his hips - your own moving instinctively. A groan of pleasure emanates from both your lips at the added friction, and tiring of the slow pace, you move your hands off of his shoulders. Pulling away from Hoseok, your dragon watches you intently, his glowing hazel eyes never leaving yours. Shy smile on your lips, you move your hands to the thick straps that hold your dress up, and then with a deep breath, mustering up all the courage you have, you slip them off of your shoulders.
Hoseok’s eyes widen, his gaze immediately following the dress as he watches your body slowly reveal itself to you. It only takes moments for the dress to pool at your hips loosely, exposing the entirety of your naked torso to Hoseok, yet somehow, time feels like it moves slowly, Hoseok’s gaze trailing after the motion of the dress. Hazel eyes drink you in, drinking each and every inch of your skin. With each passing minute, Hoseok commits every detail of your body to memory: every swell, every curve, every scar.
“By the Elders, you’re beautiful,” Hoseok murmurs before leaning forward and placing a kiss to the top of your right breast. Placing your hand under his chin, you angle his face upwards before dropping a kiss onto his.
Lips mashing into yours, your mouths move fervently - the ardent desire for each other burning deep within your cores. Your kiss turning urgent, Hoseok’s tongue invades your mouth, the silky appendage curling and wrapping around yours as you taste each other. With shaky fingers - whether from anticipation or lust, you have no idea - you begin tugging at Hoseok’s shirt, the material easily ripping, already damaged from his earlier fight. Warm skin bare under your touch, your hands rove over his body, tracing each contour and hardened, sinewy muscle.
Need for oxygen flaring in your lungs, the both of you do your best to ignore it - choosing instead of sink into each other. Times moves slowly, both your hands roaming over each other - as if you can’t get enough of the other’s touch. Eventually, however, the earlier need for oxygen ignited your chests with molten fire, burning your lungs with the urgent need for air. Breaking away, you breathlessly pant against each other, the mix of your warm breaths circulating the air.
Pulling up onto your knees, you gather the dress into your hands, the material bunching in your fists, before you lift it over your head, leaving you completely naked. The complete naked sight of you has Hoseok’s jaw-dropping, his mouth running dry as he takes in the beautiful sight of you. Bathed in the moonlight streaming from your window, your body glows almost ethereally under its light. Hesitantly, Hoseok reaches out for you, his palm gently cupping your breast as his thumb lazily flicks your nipple.
Under his light ministrations, a throat mewl escapes your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as he continues brushing his thumb over the nipple, teasing the peak to hardness. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spin, heat pooling in your loins as you begin squirming over him. Hands falling into his lap, you play with the buckle of his trousers, undoing them with just a little delay - your hands trembling harder with every passing second. Tugging his trousers, Hoseok lifts his hips before aiding you in shimmying them off of his body.
Once he’s completely naked, you’re unable to resist trailing your eyes down his body. Swallowing thickly, your throat runs dry at the sheer sight of him. Caramel skin is pulled taught over his muscles, each limb toned from the years he’s spent hunting in the forest, or playing with the rest of the creatures. Each muscle is tantalisingly defined and you find yourself unable to look away. You continue trailing your gaze down his chest, before stopping at his lap, your eyes widening as you spot his cock.
He’s long, and girthy - and god are they all that big? Or was it just because he’s a dragon? The base of his shaft is the thickest, his girth slowly tapering off towards the tip. His entire length is covered in little ridges, more prominent ones situated at the base of his cock. That has to be a dragon thing - though, you wouldn’t really know - especially as this is the first cock you’ve ever seen. You can’t help but wonder if he’ll even fit - though, the way it pulses under your gaze, his length throbbing with need, has you growing wetter with wanton desire - your thighs turning sticky with your own arousal.
“Enjoying yourself?” Hoseok asks, his tone light and teasing. Blush dusting your cheeks, you let out a squeak of embarrassment before ducking your head. Hoseok lets out an airy chuckle, his hands moving to cup your cheeks before lifting them up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Hoseok begins, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, “it’s just, I could smell how wet you got staring at me,” he continues.
A gasp of shock escaping your lips, your face heats up further - until you can feel your ears burning, “Hoseok!” you squeal, before curling into him, ducking your head into the crook of his neck as you attempt to hide from him. This time, Hoseok lets out a louder laugh, his arms automatically wrapping around your waist while he peppers kisses along your shoulder. “Sorry. Sorry, I’ll stop,” Hoseok chuckles.
Pulling away from his body, you pout above him, your cheeks still flushed with heat. Hoseok leans up, repetitively placing soft kisses against your lips as he tries to placate you. Somehow, he manages to win you over, his chaste kisses turning into deeper ones. Your hands move to trail over his lean shoulders, your fingers raking over the skin as you begin gyrating over him. Every now and then, the ridged muscle of his cock brushes against your clit, drawing out breathy moans from you.
Breaking away from his kisses, though with much reluctance, “I want you,” you whisper against his lips. Groaning at your words, Hoseok’s hand slips between your bodies and into the space amidst your thighs. Gently cupping your sex, Hoseok’s middle finger runs along the soft, dewy folds. The sudden touch has you letting out a deep groan, your head falling back as he slowly strokes your folds. Spreading your wetness along your mound, Hoseok inhales deeply, relishing in the pungent scent of your sex. He’s never smelled anything as intoxicating as you.
Fingers dipping further between your folds, Hoseok slowly slides a finger into your tightness, a strained groan leaving his lips. If you were this tight around his finger, how tight would you be around his cock? Languidly thrusting his finger into you, Hoseok relishes in the feel of your velvety, pulsing folds. Reflexively, your hips begin swirling over his as you begin riding his hand, your inner walls pulsating in a bid to pull his finger in deep.
Fingers curling into his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, your hips moving further as you feel your stomach tighten with a foreign pleasure. “H-Hoseok,” you groan, your eyes fluttering in pleasure. Your dragon hums under you before sliding a second finger into you. You let out a squeak at his ministrations, your eyes scrunching slightly at the stretch. Leaning up, Hoseok places tender kisses against your eyelids, hushing you soothingly.
The stinging only lasts a couple of moments, giving way to more pleasure as Hoseok continues pumping his digits into you. With a particularly low grind, you unwittingly push Hoseok’s fingers deeper into you, your dragon crooking his fingers into you. The action causes his fingertips to brush against the velvety sweet-spot inside you, a cry of pleasure departing your lips. “H-Hoseok, please,” you groan - the burning need to feel him inside you coursing through your veins.
Desperation evident in your words, Hoseok pulls his fingers out. You let out a cry of protest, your hips chasing his fingers. Hoseok lets out a small chuckle, lifting his head and placing a tender kiss to your jaw. “Patience, sweetheart. Don’t you want to be good for me?” Hoseok asks. His words have you moaning, your pussy clamping at the dominating tone in his voice. Nodding, you still your hips, “Good girl,” Hoseok murmurs, placing a praising kiss against your cheek.
Hoseok shifts, his hand moving to grip the base of his shaft. You feel him pump it twice, your eyes fluttering open to watch him use his thumb to spread the transparent beads of precum over the tapered head of his cock. Once he’s done, he angles the head towards your entrance, the tip brushing against your engorged clit, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Placing his cock at your entrance, Hoseok moves his hands to your hips before slowly sliding them down.
You feel a build of pressure against your entrance, Hoseok’s cock slowly sliding into you. Crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure, you cling to Hoseok tightly, your eyes scrunching shut as you feel the searing heat of his cockhead slowly stretch you open. Hoseok stills under you, looking at you in fear as he hears your squeak of pain. “Are you okay?” he quickly asks.
Nodding shakily, you take in a deep breath, “J-just go slow, please,” you whimper. Hoseok’s nods, slowing his pace down. With every inch that he slides into you, he opens your walls out further. The two of you move slowly, Hoseok sluggishly feeding inch by inch of his cock into your hot, velvety depths, and soon, you find yourself pressing against the thick base of his shaft. Hoseok stills once again, simply holding you to him as he allows you to adjust to his length. Purring against you, Hoseok nuzzles the flesh just above your jugular, relishing in how euphoric you feel around his cock. Frequently, he’d imagined what you’d feel like wrapped around him - but he’d never known it would feel this good.
After long moments of stillness, you finally shift over Hoseok, the discomfort ebbing away and melting into pure, unadulterated ecstasy. Swivelling your hips, “M-move,” you urge.
Fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, “Are you sure,” Hoseok asks. Your only answer is it swivel your hips again, wanting to feel more of him. Languidly, Hoseok uses his strength to lift you off of him before bringing you back down. Now that the discomfort is gone, you can feel nothing but the euphoria of Hoseok’s cock thrusting into you - amplified by the ridges of his cock rubbing against every pleasurable spot inside you.
The two of you begin moving faster against each other, Hoseok thrusting his hip upwards as you bring yourself downwards. With each thrust, you match his rhythm, gasps of pleasure escaping both your lips as you lose yourself into each other. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, heat stirring in your lungs as you feel pleasure burn in your veins. You’re close - you can feel it. Moaning out his name, you move faster, Hoseok’s hand twisting between your bodies, his thumb moving to rub your clit.
The additional pleasure has you shrieking out his name, your walls clamping in an almost vice-like grip. Repetitively, Hoseok ghosts his thumb over your throbbing clit, rolling the bundle of nerves over and over again as he draws out your pleasure. With every single ministration, the heat in your loin grows - from dull warmth into searing heat. White-hot pleasure prickles at your skin as you feel yourself come undone.
Thighs shaking around him, you cry out in ecstasy as you cum, Hoseok’s name falling from your lips - almost like a prayer - over and over again. You writhe almost uncontrollably over him, losing yourself into the lust-filled euphoria of your orgasm as you shatter over him. Hoseok soon finds himself lost in his own pleasure, the impossible tightness of your walls, paired with the gushing wetness of your orgasm, proving to be too much for him. With an animalistic roar, Hoseok buries his head into your neck before biting down on your jugular.
Your eyes widen as you feel Hoseok’s heat sear into you, his blazing fire searing through your veins and heightening your pleasure. Magic floods into your very being, causing you to shake even more as you wail out his name. Finally having marked you as his, Hoseok pulls his teeth away from you before closing his eyes and succumbing to his own orgasm. Just as the searing heat of his magic fades away from your veins, you feel Hoseok’s cum spurt deep into you, rope after rope of warm semen flooding you. A low moan escapes your lips, your head dropping onto his shoulder as you relish in the feel of his cum deep inside you.
The two of you simply stay there, Hoseok’s cock still buried inside of you, as you breathlessly paint. Sweat coats your skin, your naked chests sticking together - the flesh turning tacky as your perspiration begins drying. Not that you care, no, you’re more than happy to feel Hoseok’s heated, gummy skin against you. Erratically, the two of you twitch, your muscles still reeling from your orgasm.
Coming down from your elated highs, you feel Hoseok pull you close against him, his chest flush against yours. Panting heavily, you gasp for air, even as Hoseok shifts you so that you’re lying next to him. He manoeuvres your body so that you’re curled into his chest, your ear pressed to just over his heart. Swimming in post-orgasmic bliss, Hoseok simply holds you close, his fingers absent-mindedly trailing over your hip, tracing intricate shapes over your skin.
Completely satiated, you simply relish in his tough, more than happy to bask in the feel of Hoseok. Your hand runs over his stomach before you freeze. Titling your head, you stare at where your hand is rested - just over where he’d been hurt a mere few hours ago. Your eyebrows furrow as you trace over the smooth skin - phoenix tears were a powerful thing, but for them to heal to the point of not even leave a scar was something to awe at. Nevertheless, just the memory of Hoseok being hurt causes you to frown.
“Let’s leave this tower,” you finally say as you mindlessly draw circles over where he’d been wounded before. The moment the words drip out of your mouth, Hoseok’s hand freezes.
“What?” he asks, his gaze shifting to look at the top of your head in curiosity. Turning, you shift so you can look up at him.
“Let’s leave this tower. Let’s find a new home,” you repeat, staring at him resolutely.
“Why?” Hoseok questions causing you to giggle slightly at his dumbfoundedness despite the seriousness of your suggestion. Had you reduced him to one syllable questions?
“Because everyone in the kingdom knows I’m in this tower - but if we move, they won’t be able to find us… hopefully,” you suggest, muttering the last words under your breath. You don’t want to leave Hoseok - but then you realise, there’s no reason the two of you couldn’t just move.
“You’ve never wanted to leave before,” Hoseok points out, wondering where the sudden suggestion came from. You shrug nonchalantly, though your eyes flicker momentarily to his stomach. Hoseok’s eyes catch the movement, his hand moving to grip your hip in comfort. “____?” he coaxes, nudging your head with his nose. Dejected sigh slipping from your lips, you relax further into him, your muscles sinking into his and moulding you together - almost as if you’re becoming one.
“You’ve never been this hurt before,” you reply quietly, your voice barely audible. Hoseok’s face softens, your earlier words suddenly making sense. You’re still worried about him.
“The tower is our home - has been for years now. Do you really want to move?” Hoseok asks. Personally, he doesn’t really care - he’d go anywhere as long as it’s with you - but there were so many memories the two of you had in this tower, your entire lives ingrained into its grey stone walls.
Shaking your head, your hair tickles his chest and the bottom of his chin, Hoseok’s nose wrinkling as he tries to push it out of the way, “No, you’re my home. Home is where you are. If you won’t stop fighting for me, at least run away with me. Please? Let’s go somewhere they won’t find us,” you implore, your voice laced in a pleading tone.
Hoseok hums carefully, his arm snaking around your waist. “Where do you want to go?” he asks, causing you to perk up.
“The Merfolk Mangroves. We can build a new home there. It’s deeper in the forest, the area guarded by the elves. Not to mention we’ll be closer to our friends. Please, let’s just go. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” you plead. Hoseok hums for another moment before nodding, easily acquiescing to you.
“Alright. We’ll move. How does tomorrow sound?” Hoseok asks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“Tomorrow?” you repeat in mild surprise, not expecting him to be ready to move so soon.
This time, Hoseok shrugs. “It’s not like we have a lot of things. We only really need our clothes. We can always build more stuff - thought building a house may take a while. But it’s okay, we can ask Yoongi and Jimin to help us,” Hoseok says. You gaze at him in shock, murmurs and mumbles escaping his lips as he lists things the two of you would need. “Yeah, tomorrow works. So, how about it?” Hoseok asks, turning towards you. Happiness blooming in your chest, you nod eagerly before nuzzling further into him.
“Tomorrow sounds perfect,”
Five years later, you find yourself near the edge of the forest, in the midst of Salamander Swamps - though you don’t think it’s really a swamp by conventional methods. Tall trees and brushes litter the area, their leaves emblazoned in glittering hues of amber-gold and scarlet-ruby. Rivers and lakes of aurous copper swirl around the area - though, you know it’s not actually water. No, the streams of seemingly liquid-gold are actually made of the fiery salamanders that make their home in the swamp. Sunlight drips through the saffron canopy, the plush foliage gleaming as if made of blazing topazes.
Trusty wicker basket dangling in the crook of your elbow, you happily hum to yourself as you pick off the golden Soleil berries from the low-growing brush. You’d heard about the berries long ago - there were stories, passed down with each generation of the forest’s magical folk - that the berries would harness sunlight and store the sun’s energy, the magic of the sun amplified by the salamanders’ mystical fire. Hence, you’d decided to ask Seokjin, knowing the elf prince had an almost encyclopaediac knowledge of the forest’s fauna and flora, whether he knew where you could find some; and the older elf had not disappointed in the slightest.
Though, really, you should have guessed - with the myths surrounding the Soleil berries, there really was only one place they would grow.
“Hurry up, ____. It’s not safe for us to be out here,” Jimin calls out. Turning your head, you glance at him from over your shoulder. Both him and Taehyung are sat perched on a boulder, mindlessly drawing shapes into the ground as they wait for you to finish. From the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook, the phoenix happily picking berries and snacking on them.
“I need more berries! I’m making-” you reply, only to be cut off by Jimin.
“A special meal for Hoseok for your five year anniversary and Soleil berries are rumoured to energise Sun Dragons like Hoseok. Yes, yes we know. But I don’t think Hoseok would appreciate us bringing you all the way here - the Salamander Swamp borders human territory. It’s not safe, especially for you, Princess,” Jimin reminds you. His words cause you to scowl as your ire rises.
“I’m not a Princess. Don’t call me that. And I’m sure we’ll be fine. They haven’t found me for five years - ever since Hobi and I moved to the Merfolk Mangroves - they probably think I’m dead or something - or that Hoseok ate me,” you shrug nonchalantly, sarcasm dripping from your words. Really, that was one of the stupidest rumours you knew humans believed - dragons didn’t even like human meat - they prefered animals - and Hoseok preferred boar.
“It’s still not safe for us to be here,” Jimin replies.
“Yeah, I don’t think we should be here any longer,” Taehyung pipes in as he looks around warily.
“Ugh! Fine! Just give me a few more moments,” you bite back before turning back to the bushes.
“We need to go - now,” Jungkook says all of a sudden before grabbing you by the wrist.
“You too, Kook? You’re the one who wanted an adventure!” you hiss in indignation. However, seeing the alertness in Jungkook’s eyes, his teal orbs warily looking around, you find yourself stopping. Blooding rushing through your veins, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. All three boys are on their feet, their senses on high-alert as they look around.
“Guys? What’s going on?” you whisper, knowing that their enhances senses could pick up things you wouldn’t be able to.
Then - you hear it. A snap of twigs, followed by a faint whistling.
All of a sudden, an arrow flies through the air, Taehyung only narrowly managing to duck from under it. “Humans! We need to go! Now,” Jimin roars, already turning out and running towards the boat that you’d used to travel to the Salamander Swamps. Taehyung had already jumped into the river, ready to swim back home. You feel Jungkook grab you, his body twisting as he runs towards his friends. However, before you can follow him, you feel someone else grab you.
“By the Gods! The Princess is alive! We’ve found her,” a knight yells, alerting the rest of the vanguard. A cry of panic escapes your throat, Jungkook hissing as the knight tugs on your arm.
“____!” Jimin and Taehyung yell, their eyes wide with fright, Jimin already stepping back out of the boat to help you.
But he moves to slow - because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, another guard appears, swiping his broadsword towards the hand Jungkook is using to hold onto you. Before the knight can hit him, however, Jungkook removes his arm, subsequently letting go of you.
You feel arms circle around your waist, dragging you backwards and away from Jungkook, even as you desperately struggle against their hold, trying your hardest to escape the knight. You see Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung caught in a fray - the sound of swords clinking and arrows whistling through the air entwine with the raging crackle of fire, torrential splashes of water and echoing snapping of vines - the amalgamation of sounds almost deafening - even as you screech for your friends.
“Let me go! Let me go!” you scream, clawing at the arms that hold on to you - but its no use - your fingernails are useless against the steel of the knight’s armour.
“Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to be scared of us, we’ve come to rescue you. We’re taking you back to your father,” the knight says placatingly.
Hissing at him, “I don’t need to be rescued, you idiot! Let me go,” you cry, increasing your struggle against him. But the knight doesn’t heed any of your words, and instead, he throws you onto the back of the horse, jumping on after you before sprinting off.
Moments after the horse begins galloping, you hear a loud screeching sound, “____! We’ll come for you! Hoseok will come for you,” Jungkook roars, the words slightly strained and instantly, you know he’s shifted into his half-phoenix form.
Before you can respond to him, however, you already find yourself further away from the forest. Your heart sinks in your chest, tears filling your eyes as you watch the trees begin to grow sparse as the magic in the air died - you’re no longer in the enchanted forest - and more than that, you can no longer hear Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung.
The knight gallops away, the ride slightly bumpy as you continue staring behind you, yearning for home. You know you’re to blame for being kidnapped - well, partially, because really, you hadn’t asked for this. Still, you should have listened to Jimin when he said it wasn’t safe - but you’d only wanted to do something nice for your anniversary with Hoseok.
The landscape rushes past you, slowly shifting from the natural terrain of to more human-made, little houses and buildings coming into view. Your back in the kingdom. Unbothered, the guard continues riding, not even acknowledging that you had stopped struggling. Turning your head, your chest tightens as the large, almost opposing, castle comes into view. Vaguely, you can remember it from your memories - the place you had once called home. But it’s not home any longer, home is in the enchanted forest, with your friends, with Hoseok.
Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook’s faces flash in the back of your mind, your chest aching with worry. Closing your eyes, you send a silent prayer to the Old Elders of the Forest, praying that your friends had retreated and are safe.
The next day, groggy and disoriented from sleep, you awake in a large bed. Spine imperceptibly shivering from the morning chill, you instinctively reach out for Hoseok, craving the warmth radiated by your mate. However, instead of coming into contact with Hoseok’s sinewy and heated body, all you feel is the cold of the mattress. Abruptly, the memories crash over you like a bucket of ice-cold water, your body springing up in bed.
You’d been kidnapped from your home and brought to the forest. When you’d finally arrived in the palace, it had been late at night and your father and step-mother hadn’t even bothered greeting you. Instead, you’d been sent straight to your old room. You considered escaping, but knights had stood guard outside your door all night - you’d periodically checked, wondering if you could make a getaway. Momentarily, you’d considered climbing out the window, but your bedroom was several feet off the ground and facing a cliff edge. Eventually, the futility of your escape had dawned on you, and exhausted, you’d fallen into a fretful sleep, your only hope knowing that Hoseok would stop at nothing to come rescue you.
Looking around the room, you hazily recognise the bedroom from your childhood and vaguely, you realise that nothing has changed. The curtains are still a pastel pink, white furniture embellished with intricate gold designs is still perfectly placed around the bedroom, and while slightly faded, the carpet is still a plush grey. The perfect room for a princess - however, not for you. The room makes you feel nauseous: the pastel pink almost overwhelming and the white only washing out the rest of the colours.
Momentarily, you hear a light knock, your head automatically turning towards the sound. The creaking of the door resounds through the air, before, “Princess, you’re awake,” comes a dulcet voice. The voice sounds familiar, ringing through your memory, and when the woman comes into view, you recognise her as the nanny who used to look after you. She’s much older now, with sunken but kind eyes, and greyed hair.
“Mrs Cheon,” you greet quietly. The lady stops in surprise, looking at you in disbelief before a gentle smile graces her face.
“I’m surprised you recognise me,” she replies before walking towards you. Pulling the sheets off you, she urges you out of the bed and towards your large bedroom. The bath has already been drawn, different soaps and shampoos littering the bath’s edge. Mrs Cheon fusses over you, helping out of your clothing before washing away the grime and dirt you’d collected from foraging in the forest yesterday. Every now and then she tuts, scrubbing extra hard to get you clean.
You don’t know what compels you to allow her to fuss over you, because really, you wantto fight, you want to kick and scream and find a way out. But you know you have no choice but to go through the motion of the days. The reality of the situation isn’t lost on you, you’re completely outnumbered, guards posted in every nook and cranny of the palace as a security measure. It would be hard to make it out by yourself, so instead, you choose to wait - because you know Hoseok will come for you. More than any of that, however, you allow Mrs Cheon to lead you because you know there is something you have to do before you can escape this place once and for all.
Once your bath is done, Mrs Cheon leads you back to your room, where several ladies in waiting greet you. Fake smiles plastered on their face, they curtsey towards you before they begin dressing you. You’re not stupid, you can see the disdain clear as day in their eyes because here you are: a princess of royal blood, of higher status than them and theoretically more power and wealth than they could ever have, yet you’d willingly - though, not at first - chosen to live in the enchanted forest. A part of you wants to make a snide remark, but instead, you simply bite your tongue. It wouldn’t do you any good if you caused a commotion now. You had to wait, for help to arrive, for Hoseok to come, and then you could leave this place.
Hands spread out, the ladies dress you up. First, they string a corset around you, two women pulling the straps tight until you find it hard to breathe. Different layers of silk and chiffon follow, before finally, the last layer is draped over you. Unfocused gaze set on yourself, you watch as the women cover you with expensive fabrics, intricate designs embroidered in gold thread. Once done, they lead you to your vanity before sitting you down and beginning on your hair. A woman you don’t recognise begins brushing your hair, your face crinkling as she roughly detangles the knots before styling it.
You sigh and decide to retreat into your own mind, knowing that they still had to do your makeup. When you were younger, you’d seen your mother go through this routine, every day, until she was too sick to go through it anymore. You had once wished to be just like her, your every whim being catered to as women fussed and fawned over you. Now that you’ve had a taste of freedom, of independence, the entire experience feels jarring and exhausting.
By the time the ladies are finally done with you, dusting you in an overpowering perfume that has your nose crinkling in distaste, it’s already been hours. Really, howdid people of noble blood go through this exhausting routine every day? It’s ming boggling to you. Breaking you out of your thoughts, “You’re ready Princess,” Mrs Cheon finally says, and once again you have to bite your tongue to stop from snapping that you’re not a Princess. Not anymore at least. You’d given up that claim a long time ago.
“Come along. I am to take you to the throne room where the King, Queen, and Royal Court await you,” Mrs Cheon informs, and with that, Mrs Cheon leads you out of the room. With each step, the dress and heels weigh you down, the material scratching against your skin and leaving you feeling uncomfortable. You wanted your clothes - the leather boots, trousers and cotton shirts you were used to. Or even the lighter, much more freeing dresses that you’d wear occasionally.
Stepping out of the bedroom, the first thing that comes to your attention is the significant lack of guards. Unlike yesterday, when the corridor was heavily guarded, the knights are nowhere to be found. If she’s noticed anything amiss, Mrs Cheon doesn’t say anything. Expertly, she navigates through the maze-like corridors of the castle and once again, you recede into your own thoughts. The throne room is on the other end of the castle, far away from your wing of the palace and you know it’ll be a while before you reach there.
The two of you walk in silence as you wonder how long it’ll be till Hoseok and your friends come for you. Just as you get to the wing of the castle where your father conducts his official business, the sound of a commotion catches your ears. Head snapping to the window, your eyes widen as hope flutters in your chest. This wing of the castle is closer towards the towns and village, not to mention the entrance to the castle. Gazing out the window, you spot the large castle walls, knights running around while yelling at each other. But that’s not what’s got you so hopefully, it’s the bright kaleidoscopic flashes of colour just outside the walls that have your attention - flashes you know to be magic.
They’re here. They’ve come for you.
Again, Mrs Cheon continues walking, not saying anything even if she notices your attention on the window looking out. Just as you reach the large arched doors to the throne room, a deafening dragon roar resounds, the sound so loud it even penetrates the castle walls, ricocheting straight through your being. Your knees buckle, your heart fluttering as you hear the telltale sound of your dragon. Then, all of a sudden, the drawbridge that leads to the outside is broken into, thick clouds of black smoke filling the air as dragon fire spirals uncontrollably, burning the wood to ashes.
He’s here.
Hoseok’s here - which mean there’s only one thing for you to do. Taking a deep breath, you gather all your courage before stepping in front of Mrs Cheon. The older lady looks at you in surprise, watching as you fearlessly push open the wood doors before taking daring steps forward. As soon as you burst in, every single noble that makes your father’s court turns to you. Your father’s eyes widen, your stepmother’s own narrowing as she looks at you with distaste. As you begin walking towards the back of the room, where your father and stepmother sit upon their thrones, hushed whispers begin filling the air, the noblemen unable to contain themselves.
Ignoring them, you keep your head held high, your unwavering and hardened gaze focused directly on your father. You don’t even bother deigning your stepmother with your gaze, ignoring her completely. When you get to just before them, your father opens his mouth to speak, but before he can speak, you interrupt him by holding up a hand. His eyes widen, another wave of whispers running rampant around you.
“No right. You had no right to kidnap me from my home,” you seethe, your voice hissing through the air. The king sits up slightly, his eyes widening at the venom in your voice.
“We did not kidnap you. The knight rescued you from the dragon that guarded you and as such, he will be the one to marry you,” you stepmother buts in. Though, from her tone, you can tell she’s more irritated by the situation than anything. Clearly, she hadn’t wanted you back - which begs the question, why are you back. It must have been your father’s doing. You internally wonder if hell had frozen over, because you found yourself mirroring her ire.
Scoffing, you roll your eyes, “Yeah, well, funnily enough, I didn’t need rescuing from the dragon. And I definitely will not be marrying some random prince I don’t even know. I don’t love him - I love Hoseok - the dragon that protected me. The dragon that was there for me when my own family abandoned me. I don’t need you - nor do I want anything to do with you. I was happy in the forest, my home is in the forest now. Not here,” you seethe. From the corner of your eye, you notice flashes of magic pass the window that overlooked the front of the castle. Excitement courses through your veins, your hands trembling with eagerness. He’s so close.
“In love?! With a dragon? That’s preposterous. He’s a monster,” A nobleman calls out, cause you to snarl in his direction. The wild anger in your eyes clearly terrifies him, because instantly, he takes a step back.
“____, you’ve clearly been in the forest too long. But this is where you belong. Come home, this is where you belong. You are human, not a creature of the forest. You are next in line for the throne, this Kingdom’s Princess. It needs you,” your father says.
His words cause you to see red, and you level your hardest, most spiteful, glare at your father. “I am not a Princess and I owe this kingdom nothing. You abandoned me in a forest when I was seven years old - and nothing you do or say can ever make up for that. This is no longer my home,” you hiss, gesturing towards the room, “and this,” you say, gesturing to your outfit, “is not who I am. My home is in the forest. With my mate. I belong there with him,” you continue. Then, in the spur of the moment and with more strength than you knew you had, you tug at the dress - hard - causing it to rip into tatters. Shocked gasps flood the air, men whispering at the scene of disgrace. Shreds of the outer dress cling to your body, the material of your inner dress and corset on display. Your hard tug had even pulled loose some of the corset strings, and the moment you hear the tearing of fabric, you feel like you can breathe again
“I gave up on being a Princess long ago - the daughter you knew, the daughter you left in a tower all by herself - I’m no longer her. Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you or this Kingdom. I have a family - a family who is out there fighting for me - to bring me home. They are all I need. So please, if you have any love for me, or if you have any care for my happiness - let me live my life,” you finally finish. With the last of your words, you feel your anger rush out of you, leaving you feeling freer than you had in years.
Lifting your hand, you touch the crown that sits perched atop your head before tugging it. As soon as it comes off, your hair comes loose, falling wilding around your head. Without care, you drop the crown on the floor, the last of the weight lifting off of your shoulder. Then, with the last of your adrenaline rush, the feeling of freedom coursing through your veins, you run towards the window that outlooks the courtyard - where you know Hoseok to be.
Refusing to even think for a moment, and putting all your faith in Hoseok, you leap onto the window ledge before throwing yourself out the window. The members of the court jerk in alarm, gasps of alarm resounding through the air, your father jumping to his feet as he watches you plummet out the window.
The air rushes around you, the sound of the wind passing you by almost defeaning. Instantly, you shut your eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute as you feel yourself freefalling towards the ground. A scream rips through your mouth - and then suddenly, you come to a halt. You feel strong arms wrap around you, the familiar sound of heavily beating leather wings vibrating through your eardrums. Opening your eyes, you grin as you come face to face with Hoseok’s terrified looking face.
“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just randomly jump out of a window - you could have died,” Hoseok reprimands, his voice carrying out in a hiss.
An impish smile crawling onto your face, you let out a raucous laugh before throwing your arms around his neck, “I can when I know you’ll be there to catch me,” comes your reply. Hoseok wants to reprimand you, tell you that you were entirely too reckless and that watching you fall out the window had almost given him a heart attack - but seeing your laughter, the lightness to your eyes and the easiness in your muscles, he finds himself lost for words.
Eyes softening, he presses his forehead against yours before nuzzling your nose, “I’m sorry I took so long. I should have come sooner,” Hoseok apologises.
Hearing his words, you shake your head, looking at him with nothing but love, happiness and resolute trust, “It’s okay. I knew you’d come for me. You promised,” you reply. Hoseok’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer to his chest. Pressing your forehead harder against his, you grace him with a chaste kiss, relishing in the soft feel of his lips. “Let’s go home, Hoseok,” you whisper against his lips. Eyes softening, Hoseok nods before easily turning, flying off in the direction of the forest.
You don’t even bother turning around to look at your father or the castle. Instead, you simply relish in the feel of Hoseok’s arms around you, the calming rhythm of his heart against your ear, and the steady beating of his wings, because you know, that now, you’re finally free.
The End.
a/n: happy sunflower hobi day!! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! come tell me what you thought!!
Kofi | Masterlist
#bts smut#ficswithluv#hyunglinenetwork#bangtanarmynet#jhope.network#btswriterscollective#smutcentralnet#ksmutclub#btsguild#btsbookclub#btswritingcafe#magicshopnet#bangtanhq#hoseok x reader#jung hoseok x reader#hoseok smut#hoseok angst#hoseok fluff#bts fic#hoseok fic
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A Guilty Conscience
Chapter 10 of Saviin’ika
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8|Part 9
Masterlist
Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader
Summary: While you get used to your new role in the tribe, you make it your mission to meet the ones who are to be your family. While befriending some unlikely members of the tribe, Paz later surprises you with something that he thinks will make you happy, though it ends up having the opposite effect.
Rating: T
Word Count: 14,000 *Y’all idk how this happened, I’m so sorry lol*
Warnings: Some unresolved sexual tension, minor injuries and reader still dealing with a bunch of past trauma. Other than that, this chapter is pretty harmless!
Just a quick mention: Thank you as always to @datmando for inspiring me and giving me so many amazing ideas for this story!! You’ve helped me so much with this story and getting through writer’s block and I freaking love you <3 Thank you as well to @aerynwrites @hdlynnslibrary and @maybege for all being wonderful and I love you all for motivating me to write more Paz!!
Also thank you to @coredrive for the beautiful gifs you made!! If anyone wants quality gifs for their stories, masterlists, etc... please go to Kat because she was so freaking lovely and sweet!!
“Would you like one of my shirts, ner cyare?”
You turn around, coming face to face with an unarmored Paz who is sitting on the foot of the bed, his forearms lazily resting on top of his thighs as he observes the way you hopelessly shift the torn, silky fabric in your hands. You turn to face the culprit who is currently curled up in a white rocky ball close to the furnace in the main area of Paz’s private quarters, seeming completely unbothered and not regretful that she had used your only sleep attire as a chewing toy while you were in the shower and Paz was talking to the armorer.
“That would be nice, thank you,” You murmur softly, watching with a smile as he promptly stands and makes his way over to the dresser near his bed while you discard the torn, silky fabric.
Though a few days have passed since the fight without incident--much to your appreciation--you notice Paz acting differently around you and while it’s not in a bad way by any means, it still has your curiosity growing. You notice how he almost seems worried about letting you stray too far from him, though you’re certain it’s not because he’s concerned one of his own will hurt you again, but perhaps he has the same fears you hold in your very own heart. While you’ve only been with the tribe for three days, you find yourself getting less sleep with every passing day, afraid that when you wake up, you’ll be right back at the village infirmary with your estranged father.
Perhaps he’s anxious that if he lets you out of his sight, you’ll randomly decide to leave without a word or trace.
The thought amuses you and also fills your heart with grief, wondering how the Mandalorian could possibly conjure the thought of you even thinking about leaving the place that had quickly become your safe haven.
“I’m going to shower, if you want to change,” Paz gruffly voices as he approaches you with a thick, black garment and you perk up a little upon feeling how warm it is--how warm it will keep you.
Once the Mandalorian is in the refresher, you’re quick to strip your clothes, smiling softly as you neatly fold the emerald, long-sleeved dress that Ima had found for you in a designated stack of clothes that wasn’t being worn by anyone in the tribe. Once you are only in your shorts, you grab Paz’s black shirt that he must wear over all his padding and sheepishly tug it over your head, instantly relishing in how it smells just like him--all woodsy and spicy and just like the soap he uses. The material is incredibly thick, though it’s not stiff and doesn’t make it feel like you’re suffocating; it feels soft and comforting against your bare skin, engulfing you so warmly just like one of his embraces, though you still long for the intense pressure of his arms around you. The sleeves that usually come to an end just above his elbows now fall just a few inches above your wrists and the hem skims the middle of your thighs.
As you sit on the edge of the bed and get to work on tending to your braids and all the tangles from the hair you had chosen to leave down, you think of how surreal everything still feels and how all the horrors you had ever dreamed about running away from are currently above you in the village. You try your hardest not to think about it, and instead, your mind wanders to the tribe and its intimidating, rambunctious warriors that you’ve been interacting with in the covert for the past few days.
It’s been… an interesting experience, to say the least.
For people who you used to be terrified of until recently, you think it’s somewhat surprising as well as amusing that Paz had been correct when he mentioned them being quite mischievous when it came to you, though you’re certain most of it comes from you being an outsider and not understanding their language. It had already happened a couple times where you would be exploring the enclave, trying to memorize the tunnels and where different ones led, and you would run into a small group of Mandos speaking in their native tongue as you shyly approached them to introduce yourself.
Most of the time they would simply peer down at you while informing you that they already knew who you were--that they had seen you standing your ground against Paz, which apparently nobody in the tribe had ever really done before. It was quite interesting seeing everyone’s perspective towards their heavy-infantry warrior, how they knew him to be one of the strongest in the tribe and how they respected him for it. However, it was also slightly amusing that they seemed to have no problem making jokes at his expense--talking about how they were glad you were at the covert so he would stop being grouchy and angry all the time.
Ima, you found, was the exact same way, although she had no qualms about berating the man she called her uncle to his face.
Seeing the way the teenager and your blue warrior interacted with one another felt like some sort of special phenomenon that you had never really witnessed before--a relationship stronger than that between a sister and a brother, but not quite as profound as one between a daughter and father. You thought uncle and niece was a good way to describe it and though you’re curious as to why Ima doesn’t call anyone else in the tribe ‘brother’ or ‘sister’, you decide it’s better not to ask for the sake of accidentally bringing up a sad memory.
You’re too deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice a hulking figure emerge from the refresher minutes later, a few water droplets dripping down his shoulders and back as he mindlessly observes you combing through your hair with your fingers.
A small cough startles you and you turn your head to gaze at Paz, his helmet slightly tilted to the side as he stares at you through the guise of that unforgiving visor. Your fingers are still threaded in your damp hair, your bare legs dangling off the side of his bed with your sock-clad toes barely skimming the stone floor as you blink owlishly at him, still not used to seeing him expose so much of his skin.
He’s not saying anything and it has you slightly worried--have you done something wrong?
“Paz, are you okay?”
His bare, broad shoulders tense upwards when you shift on the bed, finally working through a stubborn tangle as you tilt your head at him; you find yourself doing that a lot more lately and you think being surrounded by so many Mandalorians has their little mannerisms rubbing off on you.
You move to get up when he doesn't say anything, now worried that you really have done something wrong, but Paz shakes his head and squashes your worries immediately.
"No--I mean, yes," He huffs and shakes his helmet a little harder when you stand up next to the bed to pull the thick fur away from the pillows it's tucked under while he moves to turn off the lights, "I'm fine, just a little tired, cyare."
You nod your understanding, feeling your own exhaustion creeping up on you, though today had been a relatively easy day in regards to treating scrapes and bruises. You’ve come to find that some of the younger, less trained Mandalorians aren’t exactly the most graceful on their feet, some tripping over their own capes while descending staircases, while others who are less skilled with blades or blasters manage to slip up and injure themselves. It’s definitely not the kind of injuries you’re used to tending--minor ones--but you find it much more pleasant and rewarding than your job in the village, especially when everyone here has treated you politely, for the most part.
You know that even while you had been accepted into the tribe, it doesn’t quite make you part of the family to some, especially to those who still felt as though you should swear the creed to be fully accepted. It was a big detail you had worried about quite a bit, whether or not you would have to swear the creed and wear a helmet just as the rest of them, but you think that perhaps it is a topic you should speak to the armorer about.
You slide underneath the heavy fur and exhale a content sigh, reminding yourself that such worries could wait until morning.
A yawn leaves you just as you hear the quiet hiss of Paz’s helmet being removed before he places it on his nightstand and a tired smile stretches your lips when you feel the mattress dip underneath the weight of the warrior’s body.
Before you can even turn to face him, his huge arm is wrapped around your waist and he’s carefully moving you closer to him; an intense warmth spreads throughout your cheeks when he holds you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he wastes no time in placing a kiss to the top of your damp hair. You can feel the heat from his bare chest already spreading throughout your entire body and you curl your legs back to press your feet against his bare ankles.
He lets out a small huff as he curls his fingers into the soft material of his shirt covering your abdomen and leans down to press a tender kiss to your cheek, “You are lucky I love you, or else I would not let you wear socks in our bed.”
The ‘our bed’ comment definitely doesn’t go over your head and you hold back a giggle when he sighs against your warm skin, his thumb stroking firm circles near your belly button, “I cannot help it that my feet are always cold.”
His chest rumbles with a soft laugh as he settles behind you, his hand moving a little lower to your hip, just underneath where your cauterized wound is still healing, and he gives you a gentle squeeze, “I told you that you’d do nothing to warm our bed up, mesh’la, I knew I was right. You’re always freezing.”
“If I recall correctly, you told me that you would not mind keeping me warm,” You remind him of what he had said the night he had told you his name, your cheeks growing hot when you feel his lips against the outer shell of your ear, “And you are doing no such thing, ori kebiin.”
“You are a funny woman,” Paz is still trying not to laugh as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, long fingers splayed widely against your burning cheeks, “You feel plenty warm to me, sweetheart.”
Realizing that there’s no way of beating the Mandalorian at his own game, you give up and simply shuffle your curled toes between his calves, making him grunt a little when he feels the blocks of ice that are your sock-clad feet through the material of his sleep pants. He cups your jaw and urges your head to the side a little, using his thumb that’s pressed to the corner of your lips to seek them out with his own.
This close intimacy is certainly another thing you’ve noticed since you forgave him after the fight--him wanting to kiss and touch you whenever it’s just the two of you. It’s definitely something you don’t mind, you realize as his tongue firmly swipes across your bottom lip, and you find yourself growing more comfortable and relaxed when it comes to accepting little touches from him. You can tell that it’s something he’s nervous about when you two are just laying in his bed, wide awake when sleep refuses to wrap itself around the two of you--that he’s worried something he does will set you off.
He always tries to keep his touches to your thighs and hips feather-light after politely asking if it’s okay for him to touch you there and a part of you wonders if he’s already concluded that you’re simply not used to people asking you for consent when it comes to certain things.
Even if it’s not the reason why, you’re still grateful he always asks and his consideration fills your heart with warmth whenever he seems so hellbent on making sure you’re comfortable when you two find yourself in these sort of intimate settings. It doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s him testing your boundaries, but more so him seeing what you like and what gets certain noises out of you, though you find your skin quite sensitive to every nip and lick he inflicts on you.
A part of you is grateful that he usually lies on his back when the two of you are holding one another, as the thought of being pinned underneath anyone again, even your blue warrior, lingers like a storm cloud in the back of your mind.
Currently, however, you focus on the way his fingers tentatively curl around your thigh, just below the hem of the shirt he had given you and your lashes flutter as he guides your head back a little so he has more access to your throat. He seems a little more eager tonight, you think, and as his fingers curl into the thick fabric at your thighs while he dutifully presses tender kisses to your sensitive skin, you start to slowly put the pieces together.
“Paz?” His name comes out in the form of a breathy whisper as he settles back to press a kiss into your damp hair.
He still seems slightly dazed as he brings his arm back to curl tightly around your waist, “Hm?”
“Earlier, when you were staring at me when you came out of the shower,” You grin a little when you feel the way his arms tense around your middle, “Was it… is it because I’m wearing your shirt?”
Paz huffs an amused noise and you’re certain you’ve left him flustered for once as he slowly shifts his body until he’s able to rest his chin against the slope of your neck, “I like the way you look in anything, cyare, but something about seeing you wearing my clothes--it does things to me. I can’t say that I am upset that your vulptex tore up your nightgown, not with how beautiful you look right now.”
“You can’t even see me right now, silly man.”
“I don’t need to,” He mumbles, his beard scratching your sensitive skin as he lazily tends to all the little marks he left behind with his lips and teeth the previous night, “I remember everything about you, ner cyare, like how your eyes always get big whenever you see me taking off my armor and my clothes. Perhaps my sweet little nurse isn’t as innocent as I thought.”
You nearly let out with a whimper when you feel his tongue on your skin, your cheeks burning furiously as his hand cautiously grazes up your thigh, “Is this okay?”
His tepid breath fanning along the column of your throat makes you shiver a little and your voice cracks a little when you speak, “Y-Yeah.”
“Yeah?” He repeats with a soft sigh, his hand moving past the little shorts you typically wear to bed and up to your bare hip, just underneath where your blaster wound is still tender, though not nearly causing you as much pain, “Stars, your skin is so damn soft and your hair smells good--just like those flowers you’re always wearing.”
You let your eyes close as he continues to explore your stomach with feather-like strokes, seeming content to simply warm you with his large hand and you feel your thighs clench together firmly when he rubs a sensitive spot just underneath your belly button. His hands are leaving a scorching blaze in their wake and you feel a deep shudder wrack your body upon feeling the wet, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving just underneath your earlobe.
Despite the ache between your thighs, you jump when his fingertips barely graze just above the hem of your shorts and he immediately freezes upon feeling the tension in your body.
“I’m sorry,” Your ears grow hot with shame and you think he must be frustrated with you for not feeling ready to be intimate on this kind of level yet, “I just--”
“Hey, don’t you dare ever apologize for knowing when you’re not ready,” He whispers, moving his lips away from your jaw and removing his hand from underneath the shirt he let you borrow, “I shouldn’t have done that--I should have asked first.”
“It’s okay,” You weakly reassure him, smiling softly when he politely fixes your shirt, dragging the hem back down your thighs, “I... I want to be with you like that and I thought I was ready but I... I don’t know.”
“You do not owe me an explanation. I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” Paz promises in a rushed tone as he moves to unlatch his arm from around you, though you are quick to stop him, “I am sorry if I was too forward, cyare. I want you to only ever feel comfortable around me and if I ever do or say anything that you don’t like, please tell me, okay? I’ll never be mad at you.”
“I love you, Paz.”
He relaxes against you and presses another tender kiss into the hair above the tip of your ear, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner cyare.”
You smile into the darkness at the warmth his words bring you, though you can’t help but to feel doubt towards yourself and you turn your head a little over your shoulder until his warm breath fans across the plane of your cheek. Even though you can’t see him in the slightest, you like to imagine his eyes scanning your face thoughtfully--curiously--and you hear him let out an inquisitive hum when you murmur his name.
“I haven’t been able to sleep the last couple of days,” You admit softly, placing your hand on top of the much larger one that’s resting just under your sternum, “I’m scared that every night here is going to be my last one--that someone isn’t going to want me here because I haven’t sworn to the creed and that I don’t wear a helmet or armor.”
Paz exhales softly and you close your eyes when his minty breath tickles your nostrils, “Our alor already knows that you were to be brought to the tribe to be our nurse, not a fighter. I made it clear to everyone that you would not have to wear our armor and if anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me or the armorer. You’re not going anywhere… not if you don’t want to.”
You detect the way his voice lowers into a much more sheepish, subdued tone upon whispering the last part and your suspicions from earlier are proved correct.
He’s afraid that you’re going to change your mind about staying with the tribe.
In an attempt to squash his own fears and insecurities, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and urge his arm up past your chest until you are able to lean your head down a little and kiss his calloused knuckles tenderly. He lets out a content sigh as you let him splay his fingers out widely against the swell of your breast, your heart pounding frantically against his palm while his thumb studies your firm pulse at the base of your neck.
“I just want to be wherever you are, Paz,” You murmur, your lips stretching into a smile when he tenderly kisses your cheek again.
“I feel the same way about you,” He sighs, finally relaxing completely as you keep his hand cradled to your chest, “Anything else you’re losing sleep over, cyare?”
For a moment it sounds like he’s teasing you, but something about the rawness and sincerity of his voice makes you think differently and you swallow the lump in your throat as you think of the little boy from the nursery--the one that had clung onto your leg and hugged you. Though a part of you wants to ask Paz more about how he was found and what happened to his parents, you think it best not to ask and shake your head a little bit.
It is none of your business.
“Try to get some rest,” Paz murmurs against your cheek, his beard scratching your sensitive skin, “I’ll make sure to wake you up if you have any nightmares.”
You murmur a tired ‘thank you’ and let your eyes slip shut, feeling reassured by his words and the feathery press of his lips against the tail of your brow, along with the way his thumb continues to rest atop your pulse point at the bottom of your neck.
For once, you sleep restfully--not necessarily dreaming of much, but not really having any nightmares either. You’re stuck in a strange limbo for the rest of the night and at one point, you feel Paz stroking your brow in an effort to calm you down upon feeling your body jolt when you wake from a strange dream that has you crying out.
As you fall back asleep underneath the comforting guidance of his hands and sweet whispers against the shell of your ear, you briefly wonder if the heavy-infantry warrior ever sleeps.
The next morning when you wake up and tiredly crack your eyes open, Paz is already fumbling around the little kitchenette, his helmet and underclothes now on and you prop yourself up on an elbow as you watch him set a wooden bowl down in front of your excited vulptex. The dish is filled with colorful fruit and chunks of meat and you think it must be the best meal she’s had since she was born, what with her dramatic reaction. She lets out long, happy little squeaks between bites and you think you hear something reminiscent of a laugh or a chuckle from Paz’s vocoder when he reaches out to graze a bare hand along her rocky spine.
“And here I thought you hated her,” You murmur with a yawn, stretching your arms above your head before gracelessly rolling out of bed, the room dimly lit as you make your way over to your beloved companions, “You and everyone else are always calling her a runt.”
Paz snorts and shakes his head a little, tilting his head a little as he hands you a bowl of fruit that has some yogurt underneath, “She is a runt, saviin--doesn’t mean I hate her for it. Besides, she tried to bite Djarin in the leg yesterday, so I guess she’s starting to grow on me.”
You huff a little at that as you savor the fresh berries, your taste buds still not used to such sweet food, and you shake your head at your Mandalorian, “You better not be training my sweet vulptex to attack others, Paz.”
“I would do no such thing,” Paz still sounds a little smug as he begins to put on all of his thick padding and heavy armor, “I’d only train her how to attack the bounty hunter.”
You roll your eyes and watch as he puts his armor on piece by piece, the same way he’s done it every morning for the last couple of days he’s been here. It must be a routine for him, you think as you watch him clip his pauldrons in place and work his way down his body; you find the whole process to be mesmerizing and you wonder if he’s been doing this every single day for nearly his entire life.
“I can feel you staring at me, cyare.”
You feel your cheeks warm up when you promptly turn your attention to the breakfast that Paz had kindly made for you, though you had insisted the previous mornings that you didn’t expect him to do this for you. Your heart warms when you remember how he had admitted that it made him happy to see you enjoy little basic necessities that you had been robbed of nearly your entire life and you stopped arguing after that.
Though it was only yogurt and fruit, you still felt like the most spoiled woman in the galaxy.
After completing your usual morning routine, along with braiding the top half of your hair around the crown of your head, you pick out your clothes for the day and scoop your needy little vulptex into the crook of your elbow, her favorite resting place, it seems.
“What am I going to do when she gets too big and I can’t carry her like this?”
Paz snorts as you wait for him to snap his gauntlets into place around his black, leather gloves, “If you didn’t spoil her so much and carry her around all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem, cyare.”
You pout a little at that, struggling not to smile when he gives your earlobe a playful tug once he’s finished with his big gauntlets, “Her leg is still sore--would you really be so heartless to make her walk around the covert?”
“She seemed to have no problem limping around until you showed up and started carrying her all over the place.”
Not having a solid rebuttal to the playful words, you simply shake your head and watch as he checks all the big pouches attached to his utility belt. Your eyes immediately land on the vibroblade sheathed at his hip and you let out a shaky sigh when you remember the Trandoshan, though Paz seems to notice the change in your attitude and shields that side of his body from you.
“C’mon cyare, we have a long day.”
Following close behind Paz, the two of you make your way out of his private quarters and down the tunnels where others are starting to trickle out of their rooms as well. You’ve come to find that with the exception of a few Mandos, the tribe tends to stick to a pretty strict routine of going to bed at a certain time and waking up earlier, though you find this to work out quite nicely for you. Whereas once you were getting two or three hours of sleep a night, along with maybe a thirty minute nap on your break, you now have the entire night to rest, even if you don’t always get the best sleep.
Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll get lost, even though you memorized the directions to your little office on the second day of being at the covert, but you allow Paz to guide you there anyways, grateful for his company when you know you won’t see him until tonight. Though you feel slightly sad upon making it to your destination, you’re somewhat anxious and eager to see what today brings you and who you might meet.
With a gentle kiss of his Beskar forehead against yours, you and the heavy-infantry warrior part ways for the day and you contentedly enter the little office that you had managed to clean up pretty well since your arrival. As you enter the little alcove, something feels off and you quickly detect the sounds of soft hums and discontented grunts.
You freeze upon finding out that you are not the only one occupying the room and your brows shoot up at the strange spectacle taking place in front of you.
In front of your desk, where you had placed a small pot of violets that you’d taken from the room Paz and Ima had decorated for you, is an unarmored Mandalorian who’s currently inspecting something you wrote down on a little notepad the previous day. Though the Mando is wearing a light grey helmet with chipped away emeral trimmings around the visor and cheeks, you think they must be one of the elders in the tribe, what with their hunched over form, wavering hands, and the long staff they wield.
You don’t miss the sharp, pointed tip of the walking stick that is made from what you’re certain is Beskar and you make sure to approach slowly, not wanting to frighten the Mandalorian, though the thought of you startling a warrior is slightly amusing to you.
They’re humming something that you can barely make out through their modulator and your lips instantly stretch into a faint grin when you realize they’re reading the little list you had started of all the Mandalorians you had met in the tribe so far, along with the colors of their armor and their names to help you memorize the people who are supposed to be your new family. You watch with curiosity as the unarmored Mandalorian grabs one of your pens from the little cup next to your notepad, leaning down to try to scribble something down, though they seem to grow frustrated with how shaky their hands are.
You decide to step in when you hear a disgruntled voice uttering curse words under their breath that you’ve never even heard Paz say before and your cheeks grow warm.
“Hello, may I help you?”
Immediately, the Mandalorian whips around with a small gasp, making you jump as well and you hastily take a few steps backwards when they turn around to face you, their hand pressed tight to where their heart must be frantically pounding, just like yours currently is. Your eyes are wide, hands nervously clutched together as the Mandalorian tilts their faded, scuffed up helmet to the side while observing you closely. Though you think they must be elderly, they stand about only one or two inches taller than you and you’re finally grateful to meet someone who isn’t terrifyingly large or as tiny as one of the younglings.
“You cannot sneak up on me like that!” He lightly admonishes in a deep, gruff voice, still holding his bare, wrinkled hand over his heart, “I am not nearly as alert as I used to be, but it doesn’t mean I can’t deal out some damage still.”
He lifts the staff to show you the pointed, steel bottom of it and you immediately nod your understanding, bowing your head a little, “Of course, I am so sorry! I wasn’t sure if you were hurt or not and I just thought…”
You bite your bottom lip nervously--what were you even thinking?
“Ah, I see,” He seems to relax then, pulling out the chair in front of your desk and sinking down into it with a pained grunt while you continue to wring your fingers together in an anxious manner, “So you must be my replacement--the nurse Paz insisted on bringing to the tribe.”
Maker, did your Mandalorian actually tell the entire damn tribe about you?
Your leg bounces as soon as you take a seat at the end of the medical cot and you brush a few unruly hairs from your forehead before speaking to the elderly man, “I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a replacement, sir. I’m sure I could never be as good of a medic as you are for your people. I’m just here to help out as much as I can.”
He chuckles and shakes his helmet at your humbled statement, propping his steel cane against his thigh and you feel a twinge of sadness deep within your soul as he stares down at his trembling hands. You notice his right hand is trembling more than the left and you think that must be his dominant hand--the one he would typically use for certain medical procedures--and you remember what Paz had mentioned about the tribe’s medic growing too ill and shaky to actually help others.
‘No wonder why the office was so dusty and everything was unused,’ you think to yourself sorrowfully, your eyes taking in all the big dents and scuff marks on his gray and crimson helmet.
“Hey, don’t give me those sad eyes, little one,” He admonishes you again and though you don’t remember having any kind of grandparent in your life, you think being scolded by this man must be what it feels like to have one, “I was told by Paz that you are a tough one--a warrior, just like us.”
You offer him a wry smile, “I suppose he didn’t tell you that I tend to cry quite a bit as well?”
“Oh, he definitely mentioned that,” The Mandalorian chortles and you can’t help but to grin at that, immediately feeling better at how playful he sounds, “I was hoping he was messing around with me--our people aren’t exactly the best with tears and emotions, but I suppose it is not a bad thing. During times like these, the tribe could use a little more happiness and vulnerability.”
You contemplate his words deeply, thinking of the few times Paz had informed you that because of the Empire, his people were nearly extinct and you wonder how this stranger could so easily accept you into the tribe without really knowing you. Seeing how worn out and damaged his dented helmet is, you can’t help but to wonder what he’s been through and though he seems to be more of an eccentric member of the tribe, you’re certain he’s been through hell and back.
“If you do not mind me asking--” You offer him a fond gaze, your smile growing when he tilts his helmet dramatically to the side, his Beskar cheek nearly touching his shoulder, “May I have your name? I am trying to learn who everyone is, but the visors are all the same and sometimes the color of armor is similar and--”
“I get it,” The older man sounds like he’s amused and you briefly wonder if he was once an outsider like you, though you find it rude to ask, “I was about to write it in your little notebook, but I fear my hands are too unsteady for you to understand my writing, little one.”
You perk up and quickly stand up, making your way over to where he’s sitting before you crouch down in front of your desk and grab one of the several pens in the little cup near your notebook. The Mandalorian makes a funny noise as you give him an inquisitive glance, wordlessly asking for his name with a quirk of your brow and though he wears a typical Mandalorian helmet, you think he must be grinning underneath his Beskar guise.
“Ezir Ralas.”
You somehow manage to write down his name as fast as he spells it out for you and you grin at how demanding he sounds upon spelling every single letter out and how he describes the exact colors of his faded helmet. There’s something about his lighthearted tone that makes you think he’s not as intimidating as every other warrior you’ve encountered since being brought to the covert.
“Well, it is lovely to meet you, sir,” You beam at him as you make your way back to the medical cot to sit on while you wait for your first patient of the day, “Have you been the tribe’s nurse for very long?”
He chuckles again, long fingers curling against his knees, “Oh yes, I’ve been with the tribe since we were forced into hiding years ago. Before all of this, however, I was a field medic for my people on Mandalore, back during our civil war.”
“Oh, I um, I had no idea there was a civil war,” You frown at this new information, briefly wondering if Paz knows about this, though you think he must, “That must have been so scary to be out there on a battlefield, trying to save your own people.”
He lets out a small grunt as he leans forward to rest his forearms atop his thighs, “Even though I am a medic, I was also born and raised a fighter, little one. Though the things I have seen haunt me at night when I cannot sleep, I would not so willingly admit that I was ever afraid.”
You slowly nod and gaze down at the steel pendant that hangs between his collarbones and you recognize it as the one you often see around the covert, or in the morning when Paz tucks his own into the collar of his tunic. Seeming to recognize your curiosity towards the skull sigil, he unties the knot at his nape and holds out the necklace for you to inspect up close.
With great eagerness, you reach forward to accept the kind gesture, “Is it rude of me to ask what this is?”
“It is not rude,” Ezir sounds amused by your curiosity and your cheeks grow warm as you trace over the sharp horns protruding from the cheeks of the skull with your thumbs, “It is the skull of a beast that was once native to Mandalore--the mythosaur. They were these enormous monsters with teeth and horns sharper than a sword made of Beskar and when they tried to attack my ancestors, we either slayed them or conquered them and rode them as transportation.”
“How big were they?”
“Massive,” He flippantly waves a hand in the air, appearing far too nonchalant while speaking of terrifying beasts, “Well, I would imagine they’re the size of the village currently above us, little one.”
Your eyes grow wide and a chuckle escapes past his modulator at how incredulous you sound, “And you’re ancestors fought them?”
“Without hesitation,” He informs you and though the image of a monster so fearsome and enormous terrifies you, it also fills you with feelings of reverence and awe, “After the beasts went extinct, the mythosaur skull became a symbol of our people and all that we had overcome; it is a symbol of our history and culture.”
You hum quietly, barely noticing the way his tilted visor is trained on the way you tenderly trace all the curves and divots of the pendant with admiration, a smile tugging at your lips as you think of the symbolism behind the sigil. Suddenly, you understand why people have always murmured terrifying rumors of the Beskar-clad enigmas and you think it must be true that they’re the strongest warriors in the galaxy. You wonder what it must feel like to exude such power to the point where people fear you without even knowing who you are and though you still regret feeling so much terror upon initially meeting Paz, you’re suddenly grateful that you’d eventually let him into your heart.
“Perhaps one day, you will have one of your own,” Ezir concedes and your head snaps up to peer at him with shock; you hand the pendant back out for him to take, feeling undeserving to be holding something so precious to his people, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You may not wear our helmet or armor, but once I teach you some Mando’a and get a weapon in your hand, you’ll be a fearsome warrior.”
You think of what Paz had mentioned about the others in the tribe teaching you Mando’a, and while you’ve only known him for a few minutes, he seems to be a respectful man, albeit a little quirky.
“What does riduur mean?” You blurt out, your skin instantly growing warm when you see Ezir’s shoulders shaking as he laughs at the innocent question; suddenly, you fear that everyone has been saying something demeaning about you, “I just... everyone in the tribe keeps calling me ‘Paz’s riduur’ and I--it’s not an insult, right? They’re always laughing when they say it.”
He shakes his head as his laughter eventually ceases, “No, little one, it is quite the opposite of an insult, but rather a term of endearment. I do not think it is my place to tell you what it means and I am not sure if Paz has the guts to actually tell you, but I can say that I am certain you will find out for yourself one day when he calls you that himself.”
Your leg bounces anxiously as you watch him situate his mythosaur pendant between his collarbones and as you think of all the meanings that the word possibly possesses, one stands out to you the most.
“Is it something I would be allowed to say to him as well in the future?”
“Yes,” He reaches down to pet your vulptex that’s awkwardly making her way towards his boots, sounding utterly entertained by your inquiry, “Though I cannot promise you that his brain wouldn’t combust if he heard you call him that.”
“Then perhaps I would call him that as payback for all the times he’s teased me about certain things.”
Ezir guffaws at that, remaining diligent in petting the lazy vulptex that’s headbutting his calf in a needy manner, “I like you, little one. I almost didn’t believe Ima when she told me you had stopped the fight between Din and Paz, let alone when she informed me that you had stood up for yourself and the bounty hunter.”
You watch as the older man awkwardly scoops the little vulptex into his arms and you’re grateful that not many seem to mind her presence in the covert, as you’re not sure what you would have done had you been forced to get rid of her.
“I have been belittled by men all my life,” You shyly admit, staring at the little creature that’s reaching up in an attempt to bite his pendant, though Ezir doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest as you continue, “And for the longest time, I just learned to keep my mouth shut and deal with it because that’s just the way I was raised, I suppose. These last couple of days have taught me that it does not make me a bad person for only wanting to be treated with respect and my only regret is that I did not realize this sooner in life. Perhaps I’d be a stronger woman if I had realized my worth at a younger age.”
No longer is Ezir petting the vulptex, but instead, he now has his visor trained on you and in return, you offer him a small smile. He remains deathly silent for at least a minute before giving you a curt nod, as though he approves of either you or just your declaration in general.
“In our language, we have a word that I think perfectly describes you, little one,” His gruff, filtered voice drops to something softer as he watches you perk up with curiosity, “Ramikadyc--it means that you have the tenacity and determination of a Mandalorian, that you have our mindset.”
Your heart instantly swells with gratitude and you shyly cross your ankles together as you wring your fingers together on top of your lap, “I would hardly compare myself to your people. I do not think I would have the tenacity or determination to fight against one of those mythosaurs that your ancestors slayed.”
“Something tells me you and I are not too different,” Ezir informs you with what you think is mirth laced within his deep voice, “I do not think you would hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way if it meant protecting someone you care for or someone you do not wish to see to get hurt.”
You smile softly and give him a slight nod as you think of the bounty hunter that you had stood up for, despite him not deserving it, or even your little vulptex that you had taken a blaster shot for. If Ezir truly thinks that you have the heart of a warrior, then he must be saying it for a good reason and his words, along with Ima’s and Paz’s confidence in you, fills you with a little more hope in regards to your future with the tribe.
“Will you tell me more about you?”
“I am afraid my stories might bore you to the point of insanity,” Ezir chuckles, shifting in his seat a little so he can hold your vulptex in a more comfortable position, “But since you seem so curious, what is it you wish to know, little one?”
“Can you tell me more about Mandalore and the civil--?”
Before you can finish, a deep baritone from the entrance of your office interrupts your inquiry and both you and Ezir immediately turn around to find your blue Mandalorian standing tall behind another unarmored Mando, though this one is still taller than you and Ezir. The smaller Mando is holding their wrist protectively against their chest and it takes a few seconds for you to recognize the warrior as one of the younger ones that seems to have a knack for constantly getting hurt during training.
“Saviin’ika,” Paz greets politely with a slight nod, cocking his helmet to the side upon noticing who’s been keeping you company in the short amount of time you two have been apart, “Ezir.”
You raise your brows at the way your warrior tenses up a little upon seeing the elderly man, though you manage to get in a word before any of the Mandalorians can say anything, your attention focused on the injured boy.
“Is your wrist hurt?”
The unarmored Mando peers up at Paz with what you think must be a wary expression through his visor--something that your warrior immediately picks up on. With absolutely no hesitation, the heavy-infantry warrior murmurs something to the younger Mando in his native tongue and you raise your head with anticipation and a kind smile. As though that’s all the confirmation of the young teenager--Vhan--needs, he nods a little and you slide off the end of the cot so your first patient of the day can sit down.
You give the boy a small, encouraging smile as he takes his glove off and pushes up his sleeve to reveal a swollen wrist, “What happened?”
“It was my fault,” Paz says immediately, making you raise your brows in surprise at the thought of him somehow hurting someone so young, “He was sparring with his brother and I looked away for a minute. He fell and landed right on his wrist.”
You frown a little at the guilt in his voice, though judging by the exasperated sigh that wafts past Vhan’s modulator, you think this must be a common occurrence amongst the younger ones who get hurt on Paz’s watch.
“Well, it’s hard to tell for sure without x-rays,” You manage to rotate Vhan’s wrist in the slightest, a gesture that seems to cause minimal pain to the boy, “But it looks like it’s just a minor sprain, since there seems to be no crooked bones and you can still move it around a little. Nothing too serious and nothing to feel bad about.”
Paz lets out a relieved huff at the news, though you know your blue warrior enough to know he’s not going to let the guilt down so easily, especially not when it pertains to one of the younger members of the tribe. A knowing grin stretches your lips when Vhan groans, and now you’re certain this isn’t the first time Paz has been worried like a mother hen over the clumsy teen. Though the blue warrior has quite the reputation among all the adults in the covert, it seems he also has a completely different persona when he’s with the younger ones.
“See? I told you it’s fine. Can I go back to training now?” Vhan insists, moving to hop off of the cot, though you are quicker to stop him by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Uh uh,” You shake your head, earning another groan from the teen and what you’re sure are surprised expressions from the two other men occupying the room, “Just because it’s a sprain doesn’t mean you can go running off just to damage it even further. You should at least rest it for forty-eight hours and put some ice on it every thirty minutes for two hours until the pain goes away. Also try to keep it elevated as much as possible.”
“That’s so much work for a little sprain though!” Vhan argues and you let out a soft sigh as you begin to compress his wrist with a thick bandage, “Can’t I just--”
“Hey!” Ezir suddenly sounds annoyed, and you’re surprised when the boy tenses up a little, just as Paz had earlier, and something about their reactions has you growing even more curious to what kind of reputation the elder has among his family, “Listen to the nurse, di’kut. She only wants what’s best for you.”
“Yes sir,” Vhan mumbles, though you can tell he’s still not happy about it when he turns his visor to you, “S-Sorry, Saviin’ika.”
You blink your surprise at him calling you the familiar nickname, but eventually you give him a kind smile and stand up to retrieve your roll of ice wraps, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure it must be difficult for you to miss out on training, but it really is for your own good. I don’t have the resources here to fix your wrist if it was seriously broken, so it’s detrimental to make sure that the sprain heals properly before doing any serious training again. Perhaps there is… um, maybe something else you can do in the meantime that’s not too strenuous?”
He perks up a little and hope instantly flares in your chest as he gives you an eager nod before turning to look at Paz, “You told me the other day that you would show me how to take apart an assault rifle and put it back together--would that be okay?”
Paz glances at you and the boy’s eager tone makes it hard for you to say no, so you give your warrior a reluctant nod as you finish tying the ice wrap around his swollen wrist, “Just as long as you make sure to not move your wrist around too much and keep the ice wrap on, okay?”
“Alright!” He’s instantly hopping off the cot and you chuckle at his newfound excitement, “Thanks vod’ika!”
You huff a little, opening your mouth to stubbornly remind him that you’re far older than him, though he cuts you off with a quick headbutt to your forehead; while it’s not too harsh of a harsh gesture, it’s certainly not as gentle as all the times Paz has performed the same action. You rub your tender forehead as Paz turns to the side a little so Vhan can make his way, presumably, to the armory. Paz shakes his helmet in an exasperated manner as he steps toward you, most likely to get a look at your forehead, but Ezir’s small grunts as he slowly stands up has your full attention.
Instinctively, you move to help the elder up from your office chair, noticing his slight struggle to stand and you force yourself not to cringe at the numerous pops and cracks coming from his knees and back. After a lifetime of fighting and being a medic, you’re certain it’s taken a toll on him, though he simply chuckles a little and pats your back as you both make your way over to Paz.
“I suppose I should take this as my sign to leave you to your duties for the day, verd’ika,” You beam at the new nickname as he carefully grabs onto your elbow for better balance while you lead him to the entrance where Paz is still standing with a cocked helmet, “I’ll have to look for my old medical books and datapads for you to read.”
“Oh, thank you!” Happiness and warmth instantly blankets your heart at his consideration, gratitude filling your soul when you realize that he seems to approve of you being the tribe’s new nurse, “I would love that very much, if it’s not too much of a hassle.”
“Of course not,” He gives your hand a little pat before latching onto a grumpy Paz’s elbow instead, “I’ll just make this one help me later since he can reach the higher shelves.”
“I have other things to--”
Jutting a thumb out in your direction over his shoulder, Ezir sends a rough little whack! of his walking stick to Paz’s armored shin, “It is good she is here with the tribe now--perhaps she can teach you and everyone else some manners, you big brute.”
“Yeah, ori kebiin,” You giggle in a teasing manner, earning a small grunt from the blue warrior, “Would it really kill you to learn a few manners?”
Ezir lets out a loud laugh that has Paz shaking his helmet at you, and though you know you’ll soon regret it, you think it’s worth the delightful torment he’ll inflict on you later when the two of you are alone. Without another word, Paz reaches out to give your nape a tender squeeze before leaving you alone to your thoughts in your little office, though you think that seeing Ezir and helping Vhan has already given you a bright start to your day.
With a faint smile stretched along your lips, you add a few comments to your little notepad and take inventory of the supplies you have and what you need for the next time Paz goes on a supply run. For the most part, the day goes by slowly and uneventfully--something you are actually grateful for, what with being so used to the chaos that came as a result of working in a village full of crime and those with cruel hearts.
Needless to say, you don’t mind a calm day in the slightest and when Ima passes your office hours later to politely inform you that training and sparring lessons are done for the day, you’re grateful that no serious injuries were sustained. Packing up your things and making sure your office is in order, you turn off the lights and exit your office, eager to explore the covert a little more and go to the room that Paz and Ima had decorated for you.
After conversing with a few of the Mandalorians you had befriended in the short amount of time you’ve been at the covert, you happily make your way down the stairs that you know leads to everyone’s private quarters, as well as the nursery and your little flower alcove.
You hum a mindless tune to yourself as you stroll down the long tunnel, smiling when the atmosphere gets a little warmer when you pass the shielded alcove that leads into the nursery; your walking slows a little and you’re half tempted to go inside and say hi to the little ones, though you don’t want to cause any chaos again, especially so late in the day. Reluctantly, you continue past the nursery and make your way to the little room Paz and Ima had decorated with your flowers, your vulptex resting comfortably in your arms as you two seek out relaxation.
“I need to think of a name for you, little one,” You murmur, earning a soft gaze from her, crimson eyes slowly blinking up at you, “Maybe I should ask one of the younglings to come up with one. They must be far more creative than me.”
She simply answers you with a dramatic huff as you continue down the path that Paz had already taken you down a few times.
You’re completely oblivious to the little footsteps following you far behind.
Finally, you make it to your beloved sanctuary and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing all your growing flowers and the lights that hang above them. Placing your little vulptex on the center of the desk where you had placed a little pillow for her, you dutifully water the plants and flowers that look like they need it the most. It’s comforting to have a little place of your own, especially after dealing with so many of the boisterous warriors all day and while you feel as though you’re slowly getting used to their antics, you realize you truly had no idea what you were getting yourself into upon agreeing to be the tribe’s nurse.
A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips as you feel the tiniest ache in your temple where the younger Mandalorian had headbutted his gratitude a little too roughly earlier, though warmth fills your heart when you remember how he had referred to you as his sister.
You’re in the middle of checking on your little violets when your vulptex raises her head in a jolting manner; immediately, you turn around, expecting Paz or perhaps Ima needing you to tend to someone’s wound.
It is neither one of them, you realize with surprise.
You let out a little gasp upon seeing a pair of wide, fearful eyes poking from the tiny crack between the curtains and the doorway and you instantly recognize the sad, golden brown orbs from days ago in the nursery.
“Oh, it’s okay, little one!” You give him a warm smile that instantly seems to allay some of the despair in his big eyes, “You may come in, if you’d like.”
Hesitantly, he makes his way into the unfamiliar room, looking like a lost animal that’s experiencing a new environment for the first time and you think you know the feeling all too well; even after spending a few days at the covert, you still feel quite lost and you can’t possibly imagine what this child is going through.
You blink your surprise when he gets halfway across the room before spotting your lazy vulptex who is still curled up on your desk, staring at the boy curiously, though not unkindly in the slightest. Carefully, you make your way closer to the little who simply stares up at you with wide starry eyes, his hands clasped together politely in front of him and your heart melts at how nervous and scared he seems.
“It’s okay, little one,” You reassure him in a calm, hushed tone, reaching your hand out for him to take, “She loves younglings very much and would never hurt you, I promise.”
The curly-haired boy shifts his gaze between you and your rocky companion before ultimate latching onto your hand with his. Cautiously and without any force, you guide him closer to your desk where the vulptex is still observing the little boy with gentle eyes; you think that on top of being intelligent, her species must also be quite empathetic and can differentiate a kind soul from a dark one.
“Is it okay if I pick you up?” You question the boy softly, earning you a shy nod as an answer, and you carefully haul him up to the chair in front of your desk, keeping a hand pressed to the back of his shoulders to keep him steady, should he stumble, “If you want to hold your hand out to sniff it, it’ll be a sign that you want to be her friend.”
His eyes widen a little more and you can’t help but to grin as he holds a shaking hand out for the rocky vulpine to sniff eagerly, his other hand pressed shyly to his cheek in anticipation. A tiny, childish giggle meets your ears and warms your heart as the vulptex licks his palm, though he is quick to pull his damp hand back and wipe it on his beige tunic with a scrunched up expression. When he smiles up at you, you’re certain your heart is going to melt into a big puddle of goo in the pit of your stomach and you offer him one in return, smoothing his dark, unruly curls away from his forehead.
“See? She knows you’re brave and likes you now.”
He gives you a toothy grin and you feel a lovely warmth in your soul knowing that you were able to provide some emotional reprieve for the sweet child.
“Did you sneak away from the nursery, little one?” You ask him gently, not wanting him to think you’re upset with him at all; he simply drops his head in shame and you continue to stroke his curls in an attempt to comfort him, “It’s okay! You’re not in trouble, I promise. I just want to know why.”
For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to answer as he keeps his head lowered, but then he eventually peers up at you and whispers his response in a tiny, meek voice.
“Y-You were singing,” He explains quietly, and you realize he must have heard you humming and followed you all the way here, “‘M sorry.”
“Hey, no, none of that,” You crouch down in front of him so he’s taller than you while he stands on your chair and you give him a kind smile, “It’s okay, but how about next time you just ask the caretaker on duty, alright? They’ll come find me, wherever I may be.”
He gives you a shy nod, seeming thoughtful for a few moments as he presses a chubby index finger to his pouting lips, “Do I have to go back?”
You should say yes and you know it, but his eyes are all but pleading with you to say no and he looks so hopeful that you’ll let him keep you company. You think he must feel just as out of place as you do, not knowing who to talk to or who to trust, though you seem to be the one person he finds solace in.
How could you destroy that tiny amount of trust he already has in you?
You give him a tiny smile and shake your head, “You may stay for a little while, but I fear I do not make for the most exciting company, little one.”
The boy doesn’t say anything to that and you blink your surprise when he reaches out to clumsily touch the thick braid wrapped around your crown, along with the few flowers that you had strategically placed throughout the weaves that morning when Paz had been watching you. He seems curious by the vibrant flora, his eyes blinking and flickering with awe and you bow your head a little so he can get a better look at them.
“Do you like flowers?” You ask him quietly when he eventually ceases his exploration, and you look up to see him giving you a shy little nod, “What’s your favorite kind?”
You expect him to not know many, especially if he’s spent his few years of life on Nevarro, though he surprises you when he speaks in a barely there whisper, “I like roses--like the ones my ‘gramma used to paint.”
You’re desperately inclined to ask more about his grandmother--if he had any parents and what planet he had been saved from, but if he’s the covert’s newest foundling, the wounds on his heart and mind must still be so fresh and you do not wish to infect it further with your invasive questions. Instead, you force yourself to give him a warm, big smile and somehow manage to keep the tears out of your eyes when his chubby fingers find the little blue flower that Paz had tucked behind your ear earlier in the morning.
“Yeah? I bet they were beautiful,” You grin and he gives you a fervent little nod to confirm your thoughts, “What color roses did she paint?”
And what you thought was only going to be a ten or twenty minute interaction with the boy ends up to be more than an hour and a half long meeting where the two of you talk about harmless topics like flowers, favorite animals, different types of stars and constellations. Though for once, you do most of the talking and you are more than satisfied to describe the beautiful hot springs and caves that Paz had taken you to, sparing all the mushy details that you knew would probably gross out a child.
“He’s scary,” The boy murmurs as you tell him of the story, at least the clean version, of how Paz had stood up for you the night you first found your vulptex, “They all are--they don’t smile.”
“Well of course they do,” You inform the little one, curling a finger against his cheek and earning a tiny giggle, “Everyone smiles, you just can’t see it because they wear their helmets to honor their creed. It does not mean they are robots or incapable of feeling the same emotions we do.”
He’s perched on one of your thighs, seeming comfortable as he softly pets the sleeping vulptex and you smile down at him sympathetically upon realizing he’s still apprehensive of the armored warriors, “I was scared of Paz at first too, but he turned out to be one of the kindest, most honorable men I have ever met. These people are not cruel, but I understand why you are afraid, little one. I have only been here for three days and I am still learning how to fit in as well. Perhaps we can figure this out together.”
He gives you another toothy grin and nods, seeming comforted by your words as he leans back into you and your heart aches at the trust he shows in you; a part of you wonders if it’s because he can actually see your face. You’re not entirely sure of what to say as he continues to pet the sleepy animal, smiling whenever he hears the soft squeaks that the vulptex lets out every now and then.
“Do you have a name little one?” You ask kindly--tenderly--hoping that the question won’t overwhelm him as he tilts his head to stare up at you.
You truly don’t think he’s going to answer you, but then after a few moments of silence, he lowers his head a little, not looking you in the eyes.
“Odisian.”
“Odisian... what a lovely name,” You repeat it with a grin, earning a shy smile from him, “Is it okay if I call you Odi? Or do you prefer your full name?”
Suddenly, he beams up at you and kicks his legs a little, as if having a nickname makes him feel more at home, “I like Odi!”
Your cheeks nearly hurt from how big you’re smiling at him and you nod, deciding it’s best not to dwell too much on his own name or what nicknames he might have had before being brought to the covert. You straighten your spine a little and reach out to pet your little vulptex who keens under all the adoration and attention she’s suddenly receiving from you and the little one.
“Would you like to pick out a name for her?” You ask him softly, tilting your head to the side when he gives you an expression filled with awe and wonder, like he can’t believe you are asking him to do such a thing, “She needs one and I do not think I am creative enough to bestow her with such an honor.”
Odi swings his legs nervously and you can’t help but to grin as he seems to seriously contemplate this huge decision, his tiny hand squeezing his cheeks together in great concentration. You remain patient with him as he turns his head a little to stare at all the flowers on your desk and the colorful vines that are draping off the edge of the shelves attached to the wall with admiration.
“Rosie?”
He says it more as a question, like he’s nervous for your response, so you offer him a warm grin when you realize this sweet child wants to name your vulptex after his own favorite flower. You wonder if he somehow knows just how much your flowers mean to you, just as Paz does, or if the flower simply has some sort of deeper meaning to him and you playfully ruffle his curls, earning you a little giggle from him.
“That is far more lovely of a name than I could ever come up for her,” You inform him, your cheeks hurting from how big of a smile you’re wearing on your face and he perks up at your reassurance, no longer seeming quite as nervous, “Her eyes are red like roses too! Is red your favorite color?”
“I like yellow,” He bashfully admits, and you nearly chuckle at the way he pronounces his ‘L’s as ‘W’s, “It is a happy color.”
You agree with him as you begin to collect some flowers for the little boy, though a part of you lamely thinks he probably doesn’t even want them. You’re in the process of pointing out all the different flowers that Paz and Ima had been so kind to plant for you in anticipation of your arrival when the drapes to your alcove shuffle to the side a little.
You’re completely unaware of how long your blue warrior is standing in the entryway, simply observing you and the little one perched contently on top of your leg who seems utterly interested in what you have to tell him about the healing properties of violets and lavender.
“Oh! And then this one right here, if you just grind it up and add it into--”
“Cyare.”
Immediately, you and Odi both turn to face where Paz is standing just feet away in front of the rounded entrance, though the little one in your arms is quick to lower his head in fear of the massive warrior. Wanting the youngling to feel more comfortable, you simply smile up at Paz, who suddenly seems frozen to his spot as he stares at you with a cocked helmet, his shoulders tense as his pauldrons inch closer to the bottom of his helmet.
“Is something wrong, Paz?”
“No, it’s just--” His helmet slightly jolts to the side and he’s acting odd as you gently heave Odi off of your lap, offering him the little bundle of flowers so he won’t feel so lonely without you by his side, “It is time for the younglings to sleep and the caretaker on duty got scared because he was missing. I thought you might know where he is and it seems as though I was right.”
Odi is staring up at you with the saddest expression, as though he’s pleading with you to not return him back to the nursery and you gently cup the back of his curls, giving him a kind smile in return. Nervously, he fiddles with his hands as you stand up, easily scooping your vulptex into the crook of your elbow, all while the little one stares up at Paz with the most frightened expression you’ve ever witnessed, hiding behind your leg.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere and you’re more than welcome to visit me anytime,” You offer him a reassuring smile as he gazes down at the little bouquet of flowers and he is quick to grab your outstretched hand with an eager expression, “C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Besides, he likes flowers too--I bet he would like it if you gave him one.”
You say the last sentence in a low whisper, as though you’re sharing some sort of gossip with him and you instantly notice the way he perks up as Paz holds the drapes to the side for you, his helmet still tilted to the side as he observes you two. Odi is still quiet and thoughtful as he stares down at the little bundle of colorful flowers you had gifted him, all while holding your hand as Paz slowly leads you through the dim tunnels.
Shyly, the child gazes up at Paz and warmth blooms in your heart and soul when he lowers his helmet to regard Odi with what you’re certain is the utmost kindness, most likely wanting nothing more than to earn the boy’s trust. Without saying anything, the little one holds up the colorful bouquet of flowers for Paz to see and you grin at the adorable interaction.
"Those are... pretty,” Paz comments in a softer voice and you can tell he’s trying to appear as placid as possible to the nervous boy, “Which one is your favorite?”
Odi lets go of your hand to press his index finger to his bottom lip in severe contemplation and you nearly chuckle at what must be a cute little habit that he does unknowingly when he’s thinking too hard. After a moment’s consideration, he points a chubby finger at one of the many violets that you had tucked in the center and you instantly grin.
“Those are my favorite too,” Paz says quietly, and you’re too focused on the way Odi is smiling down at the little bouquet to notice the Mandalorian’s visor trained on your face.
Odi seems conflicted as he gently tugs one of the violets from the middle of the colorful bundle and offers it to the huge warrior with a hopeful gaze, not saying a word throughout the entire exchange.
“What an honor,” Paz sounds like he's grinning as he accepts the little flower and Odi immediately seeks out your hand again, “Thank you.”
The youngling peers up at you with a cheerful glimmer in his eye, as though he’s proud of himself for showing such bravery and selflessness in the presence of a powerful warrior. Once you offer him a knowing smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand, Odi turns to gaze down at his colorful bouquet with a tiny grin on his face.
Content upon realizing the little one no longer seems sad or fearful, you tilt your head up to beam happily at Paz, your heart still full of love and admiration towards both him and Odi; immediately the warrior lifts his hand to tenderly stroke your cheek. The cold bite of leather nearly makes you flinch and suddenly you’re remorseful that both of your hands are occupied by your littlest companions as you now long to touch the lighter blue in the hollows of his cheeks.
It’s not until you make it back to the nursery that Odi’s smile drops and his lips form into a little pout. Paz presses his gloved hand to the small of your back to guide you further into the nursery and through a short tunnel leading the four of you to where the younglings must sleep and take their naps.
“Hey,” You whisper after the four of you enter a dimly lit room with several beds lined up; you notice the tiny lumps curled up underneath the fuzzy blankets and smile as you crouch down in front of Odi, “Remember what I said, okay? You ever want to come see me, just ask one of the caretakers. I’ll always be here for you.”
He nods, and before you can even think about standing up, he steps forward to wrap his tiny arms around your neck and you’re quick to return the sweet gesture, your free hand coming up to gently cup the back of his head. You feel his chubby fingers curl into the hair you had left unbraided that morning and smile when he holds onto you a little tighter; you can tell he’s still afraid of you leaving as an idea pops into your head.
“Since Rosie seems to like you so much, why don’t I leave her here with you for the night?” Immediately, he pulls away from you, his starry eyes wide and filled with disbelief as you gently shuffle the lazy vulpine into his awaiting arms, “She may be small, but she’s a fierce little thing that will protect you from any nightmares you may have, I promise.”
He holds the animal closer to his chest, grinning when she lifts her head to lick at his cheek and Odi instantly giggles in response. He gives you one last shy smile before making his way to his little bed and you stand up to your full height as you watch him shuffle underneath his blankets, all while holding Rosie close to his chest. It’s not until you watch his eyes close that you let out a deep exhale and you wonder when you had stopped breathing; tears nearly escape your eyes when you watch Rosie curl herself closer to the child, head tucked underneath his chin as he smiles sleepily.
“Ner cyare,” Paz whispers and you jump a little, nearly forgetting that he had been standing there this whole time; you turn to face him and you give him a questioning look when he threads his fingers through the valleys between yours, “There is something I want to show you.”
You think when he says ‘something’, he most likely means ‘someone’, and your heart thrums wildly in anticipation as he leads you away from the younglings’ sleeping quarters. The alcove he’s leading you to is the one he had popped out of a few days ago after you confronted him after the fight, you realize, and you wonder what could possibly be in the room that he seems so excited to show you.
You blink owlishly at him as he politely holds the drapes to the side for you and you hesitantly enter the warm room; instantly, another Mandalorian with black and yellow armor turns to face you and Paz. Before you can offer the stranger an affable greeting, a soft whimper cuts you off and your heart instantly freezes over when you spot a wooden crib in the corner of the dim room.
An infant…
There is an infant in the covert and the thought simultaneously terrifies you and breaks your heart.
Paz quietly says something in his mother tongue when the caretaker on duty tenses as you step forward to try to get a better look at the distressed infant, your heart now pounding so wildly that you hear it in your ears. Whatever Paz said to the caretaker immediately seems to calm them down and they simply watch as you observe the fussy baby that is kicking its little feet wildly and growing even more distressed. The infant is wearing tiny white socks and a long, dark brown tunic that falls to her ankles; her little head is adorned with a white beanie, but you see dark tufts of hair poking out from underneath.
“I… I cannot get her to stop crying,” The Mandalorian’s deep, filtered voice is coated with exhaustion and despite the tears burning your eyes, you fixate your attention on the defeated Mando, the vibrancy of the yellow stripes painted on his black armor nearly hurting your eyes, “What am I doing wrong?”
You wonder if he’s ever had to take care of an infant before, but judging by the way the black and yellow Mando shuffles around nervously makes you think it is not all too common of an occurrence in the tribe.
You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, shaking off your fears and insecurities as you remind yourself that you were brought here to take care of others, “O-Okay, how old is she?”
“I only found her a few weeks ago, cyare,” Paz informs you quietly, not wanting to disturb the baby even more, and you turn around to gaze up at him with wide, watery eyes; he must see the confusion etched on your features because he immediately explains himself, “I was walking back from seeing you one night and found her abandoned behind one of the vendors in the marketplace. I can’t… I can’t imagine what kind of monster does such a thing.”
You know all too well of the monsters that are capable of leaving a helpless creature behind to die, most likely feeling no guilt when they close their eyes at night.
You nod again and let out a shaky exhale as the caretaker turns his body to the side and allows you to lean over the crib, your chest aching something fierce as you carefully scoop up the tiny creature into your arms. Instantly, she lets out with a piercing, shrill scream and you heave a small sigh at how fussy of a little thing she is, though you think you already know what her problem is.
“What are you--?”
The strange Mandalorian jolts forward a little as you shuffle the crying baby around in your arms until her chest and stomach is resting against the inside of your forearm, her arms and chubby legs dangling lazily around in the air and her cheek tucked against the crook of your elbow. It takes a few moments of tenderly stroking her back to get her cries to soften into something less ear shattering, and you let out a relieved sigh when her whimpers turn into little coos and grunts.
“I think she might be colic,” You inform the caretaker with a shaky whisper, his helmet tilted to the side with what you think is either curiosity or shock as she dribbles, “I’ve uh, I’ve seen this before and read about it. Are you making sure to burp her after each feeding? Or perhaps she should be using a different formula if she has a sensitive tummy?”
“I--” He drops his helmet a little, staring at the cooing infant that you’re bouncing a little, “She wasn’t spitting anything up and I just thought… I wasn’t sure how to do it, how to burp her.”
You give the black and yellow Mando a sympathetic expression and nod, your eyes still burning with tears, “Babies can be pretty fussy sometimes, but once you find out how they like to be held and handled, it makes things a little bit easier. This tends to be a good trick at calming a lot of babies, but you need to make sure she gets burped after every feeding or else she’ll be really uncomfortable and even fussier than normal.”
“Thank you,” The caretaker nods his gratitude as you continue to stroke her back and you give him a weak smile in response, “Could you maybe get her to go to sleep? I should check on the others and I--”
‘Need a breather.’
He doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it in the way his deep voice drops and his shoulders fall at the mere thought of having a few moments of peace and relaxation.
He fidgets when you hesitate, though Paz places a gentle hand on your nape and he must realize that something is wrong as he squeezes the warm skin there; it’s something he only does when he’s trying to comfort you. Afraid that your voice will fail you, you offer the caretaker a jittery nod and he wastes no time in leaving the nursery that’s dedicated to this tiny infant.
You find it difficult to even look at Paz as you make your way over to the rocking chair that seems far too small for any Mandalorian and slowly sink down until you’re sitting comfortably with a cooing, sleepy baby tucked in your arms. A soft sigh escapes your lungs when you feel a little bit of drool soak through the material covering your elbow and you risk a glance at Paz when he gets down on a knee next to the rocking chair, his gloved hand moving to gently squeeze your bicep.
“What happened?” He questions as quietly as possible, warranting a tiny grunt from the irascible infant, “Why are you so sad all of a sudden?”
The way he asks such a question so softly instantly leaves you feeling painfully raw and vulnerable and you are quick to shoulder away a tear before he can wipe it away for you; you shake your head viciously, “It’s nothing.”
“Cyare--”
“I will explain later.”
The Mandalorian gives you a curt nod and retrieves a piece of cloth for you as you move the calmed baby to burp her against your shoulder. You can tell he wants to say something as you pat her between the shoulders, but he remains silent and tilts his helmet to the side upon hearing the infant gurgle and do her business against the cloth draped over your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep once she’s burped up all the air and spit from her meal and you let out a grateful sigh when you watch her eyelids slowly droop, somewhat eager to get her out of your arms and into her crib.
Once she’s comfortable in her cradle and fast asleep, you are quick to exit the little alcove, Paz hot on your heels as you practically storm past the exhausted-looking caretaker who’s sitting on a stone ledge in the main play area.
“Hey thank you for--”
You’re out of the nursery before he can fully express his gratitude to you and you hear Paz mutter something to the caretaker before rushing after you. Halfway down the tunnel leading to his private quarters, Paz catches up to you and carefully wraps his leather-clad fingers around your bicep, turning you around to face him.
“Cyare! What’s going--?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You don’t even realize you’re sobbing until you hear your own voice and Paz’s other hand comes to squeeze your shoulder in a comforting manner, “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me there was a baby and why would you make me…? I didn’t know and... Maker, she was so much like--”
Your chest is heaving, tears streaming from your cheeks like raging waterfalls and Paz gently pulls you to the side and covers you when another Mandalorian passes you two, giving you what you’re certain is a curious gaze. He cups a massive hand to the side of your neck and leans down as you continue to sob and babble incoherent pleas at him, wondering why he’d put you through this, though he truly had no idea what he had done to you.
“I-I am sorry, cyare,” He breathes, squeezing your bicep firmly with his other hand, “You seemed to love the little ones so much and I thought… I thought you would love to see the baby, but I didn’t think…” He shakes his helmet in a jolting manner as you viciously rub at your eyes and cheeks, “What happened? What did I do wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” You ignore his frantic questions as you try desperately to stop the tears escaping your eyes, along with the horrific memories from flooding your mind, “I didn’t mean to be so rude! I thought I was over it and I could forget, but seeing her...”
“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” He hushes you in a kind manner, shielding you from any wandering eyes that might see your tears, “Why don’t… why don’t we go back to our room and you can tell me what’s going on? That’s what you said the other day, right? That we should talk about the things we feel?”
You nod your answer, not trusting your voice in that moment, and you try your hardest to force down the massive lump in your throat.
“Will you tell me why you are so broken up over seeing the baby?”
He’s quick to pull you in close, hunching over to hold you easier and you immediately stuff your face into the crook of his neck as you give him another jittery nod, “I fear you will hate me upon hearing what I’ve done in the past--how I have failed the ones I was supposed to take care of.”
“I… I could never feel such a thing towards you,” He promises with a deep exhale, sounding just as heartbroken as he reluctantly pulls away and leads you closer to his private quarters, keeping a firm hand on the small of your back, “Whatever it is, I could never hate you, I swear.”
Your chest aches more and more the closer you get to his private quarters and once you finally make it, he’s quick to sit you down on the foot of his bed, kneeling down as he collects your hands in his leather-clad ones.
“What is haunting you, ner cyare? What makes you cry so much when you sleep?”
You pray that once you tell him, the horrific memories won’t weigh heavy on your conscience any longer.
Translations:
Ner cyare=My beloved
Mesh’la=Beautiful
Ori Kebiin=Big blue
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum=I love you (lit. I know you forever)
Saviin’ika=Little violet
Verd’ika= Little soldier
Di’kut=Idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)
Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aerynwrites @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero @haloangel391 @awhiskeywithawinchester @aliciaxglasgow @bonesaldente @kawaiitimecharm @karaabove @clydesducktape @misssilvertongue @heartxheat @pazvizslasgirl4ever (Please let me know if I missed you or you’d like to be taken off!!)
Author’s note: As always, thank you all so much for being as patient and kind as ever <3 I don’t know why this chapter was such a struggle for me to finish, but I’m so glad eventually managed to get all the words I wanted down lol. I was worried it might seem like there’s a lot going on in this chapter, but I just wanted more interactions with our nurse getting more settled in with the tribe and meeting others, so hopefully this chapter doesn’t seem like it’s all over the place :( Anyways I love you all and thank you so much for all the support y’all continuously give me <33
#paz vizla x you#paz vizla x reader#paz vizsla x reader#Paz vizsla x you#mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#my writing#IDK WHY I'M SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS CHAPTER OML#I hope you guys enjoy it tho <3#also now y'all know why christina and I were fighting over wearing socks to bed lmfao
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hellooo can i request a nsfw akaashi alphabet A-Z? thankuuu bubz
Oh anon. Sweet anon. Let’s... get into it because the amount of brainrot I have suffered at the hands of this req is... phew.
Ty @super-noya for dealing with my shit skdjfhdjjffb
Keiji Akaashi- NSFW Alphabet
𝔄 = 𝔄𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢
I personally think that he’s *chefs kiss* here. Like, he enjoys sitting with you in the stillness after you’re done. He likes to hold you close, so close that he can hear you breathe and hear it intertwined with your heartbeats. He may absentmindedly play with your hair or fingers, but mostly he just enjoys being close to you afterward, and wants to lay in bed with you forever.
𝔅- 𝔅𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱
His Nipples. Let’s just… take a moment. They’re very sensitive, and he will LOSE it at any point that you touch or play with them during. Literally nip at them and watch him struggle trying to swallow his sweet little moans. He’s not very vocal in bed but this is the best way to coax something out of him.
ℭ - ℭ𝔲𝔪
Since he’s so controlled and analytical, I feel like he’s a master of timing, and likes to finish WITH you. He likes to have you on top, but pulling you as close to him as possible while you’re there. As soon as he feels you getting close he’ll hug you and start counting down from ten in your ear, both of you hitting your highs as soon as he gets to one.
𝔇 = 𝔇𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔖𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱
He has a secret folder in his phone full of horny poetry about you. When he can’t get to you, he opts to write about what he fantasizes about doing to you in the moment. He would never read them to you, but instead he has had them published in a book under a pseudonym. It’s a bestseller.
𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊
He doesn’t have a lot- but that doesn’t mean he's bad in bed, by ANY means. He’s just naturally talented. He’s so in tune with your body that he knows exactly what spots to hit almost instinctively.
𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
Ok- yes he likes regular missionary but hear me out, he doesn’t make it boring! He’s just very much a romantic, so he wants to see your face, kiss you, look you in the eyes, all that fairytale shit. But again- it’s not boring. Likes to look down at you and will 999% spit in your mouth or make you suck his fingers.
𝕲 - 𝕲𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖑𝖊
Not a lot of laughter or anything. Sometimes he will look down at you and smile, admiring how you look underneath him.
𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗
Oh very well groomed. Keeps it very neat. He’s not completely hairless because he finds that weird, but he does keep his hair pretty short. Also has the cutest happy trail and goes absolutely insane if you kiss down it before you go down on him
ℑ - ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔶
He’s… a poetic fuck lol. Not like, quoting Shakespeare or anything like that, but in every sense of the word, something about being with him is soft and romantic. From the way he holds you, to the way that he stares at you so intensely in those moments. Basically everything that people write about, he kind of is if that makes sense.He also loves the closeness of having you cockwarm him after you’re done. He finds it comforting and enjoys your warmth.
𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋
Doesn’t do so too often, but when he does- he’s REALLY loud about it. Sounds! So! Pretty! He strains a lot to try and be quiet but he can't help imagining your lips around him instead of his fist- so he partially just moans out of frustration.
𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐
MARKING. Let him bruise you up a little. He has a habit of burying his face in your chest and suckling on the exposed skin there, usually leaving little strawberry colored hickies on you. He likes for you to leave hickies on him too- preferably on his collarbones.
𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
Anywhere indoors/away from prying eyes. He likes to have you all to himself. BUT, he will sneak away with you if you can’t wait- and has definitely seen the inside of many restaurant bathrooms… maybe a few amusement parks too.
𝔐 = 𝔐𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫
I feel like Akaashi is motivated by the sounds you make. Simply knowing that you make such pretty cries for him and him only, makes him crave nothing more but to hear you make them again and again. It’s like music to his ears.
𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!
He’s not into latex/leather. He doesn’t like the feeling of it on his skin. Thinks Lace is god-tier tho.
𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑
Actually enjoys both giving and receiving pretty equally. But will also be the kind of guy to randomly go down on you to make you feel better if you tell him you’ve had a bad day. It always makes you feel better.
𝔓- 𝔓𝔞𝔠𝔢
Definition of a slow burn tbh. He will take his time to make sure that every part of your body is addressed, even if you’re just begging him to rail you. I feel like he’s huge on body worship, and you being his no. 1 inspiration, he wants to make sure that you know that, so he takes his time. But once he knows that you’re close- he’s going to speed it up so that you can both finish together.
𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊
He isn’t really a fan of them. He prefers to take his time with you. For him it’s just not enough and he couldn’t make it quick if he tried. The only exception though, is when he’s anxious. He will pull you away from the crowds so quickly for a stress relief blowjob.
ℜ - ℜ𝔦𝔰𝔨
As far as trying new things, he’s open to anything you want to try. He likes experimenting with rigging and impact play, and always has something different to tie your arms with, liking the different textures against your skin. Will 100% let you peg him- but only on special occasions, like your birthday or anniversary.
𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆
He can go forever if you let him. He has amazing control. He will want you to have cum at least 3 times before he even thinks about cumming himself. He’s very generous and will meld himself to fit what you need.
𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞
Again, will 100% let you peg him. But also is not opposed to things like vibrators or cock rings. He’s literally down to try anything at least once- he’s so versatile.
𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗
He is just a little needy, so he doesn’t like being teased. But he instead LOVES to tease you. He does like to see you squirm as he whispers absolute filth into your ears while you’re out with your friends. He’s really good at knowing what makes you tick, doing that specific thing, and then playing it cool so no one notices.
𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊
Oh god. Oh god he sounds so pretty. He’s not loud at all- tries so hard to hold it back. But when he actually lets go? It’s like music to your ears- it’s literally the most beautiful mixture of deep, breathy moans and also strangled calls of your name through gritted teeth. I could go on forever about this I need water I can’t breathe
𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖉
Akaashi IS the wildcard. He is literally down for anything- and you would never know because he looks so unassuming. Always the quiet ones I guess…
𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞
This hurt me the most. FUCKING PRETTY DICK AKAASHI IS VERY REAL AND VERY MUCH WHAT KEEPS ME UP AT NIGHT. It’s pretty and also cute, like how? Not really thick but it is long (6/6.5)also it??? BLUSHES??? Literally turns the prettiest pink at the head I’m crying it’s perfect it’s just perfect and I will not stop screaming about it.
𝔜- 𝔜𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤
He likes to play it cool and collected but he literally secretly writes h*rny poetry about you all the time so he wants it bad, he’s just never going to say HOW bad. But the moment you tell him “come here” and wiggle your finger at him? He’s done for. That’s what really sets him off.
𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟
He doesn’t sleep right after. He will eventually, but he actually gets a second wind for a bit and will ramble on for hours until you fall asleep. He won’t notice you’re sleeping, but will go on and on about his innermost thoughts until he burns out, then he falls asleep holding you.
#haikyuu hcs#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu writing#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic#haikyuu hc#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu smut#hq smut#haikyuu akaashi#hq akaashi#hq writing#hq headcanon
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uni!au with ateez — [ part one ]
—[ san - performing arts ]
ironically, you met when you helped him after a taller male shoved him down whilst in a heated argument.
he burst out laughing when you asked if he was okay.
“don’t worry, we’re just practicing our lines!”
you quickly glanced up at the building and grimaced once taking sight of the gleaming silver ‘performing arts building’ plaque.
of course.
to say you were embarrassed was only scratching the surface.
you had no regrets, because the incident was the catalyst that formed your friendship and eventual relationship.
will never let you live that moment down.
“remember when you tried to save me from mingi?”
“i thought we promised not to bring that up again-”
“why can’t i? i was saved by an angel that day?”
san invites you to both his dance and theatre shows.
will appear to be very professional on stage, but you catch his eyes frantically darting to the crowd to try and spot you.
and once he does, he will repeatedly smile and wink in your direction.
you’re always early, so you manage to snag a seat in either front two rows.
likes when you bring him bouquets as a congratulation gift after his performances.
gets very loud backstage just to let everyone know you bought him a gift.
a huge show-off.
is very good at facial expressions.
you fall for every time he pretends he’s crying or hurt when you don’t give him attention.
he will imitate different characters and repeat after actors while you two watch movies together.
“it sounded sexier when i said it, right (y/n)?”
is a very clingy cuddle bug.
and a leech.
will always have his arms around you while walking at campus.
loves to give you back hugs.
is the type to wait outside for you until you finish class.
and takes you to the cafeteria afterwards for lunch.
embarrasses you in said cafeteria by spinning the lunch tray while waiting in line.
also likes to spin your phone just to freak you out.
also the type to excitedly text you about the donuts and coffee they’re giving away at the library’s breezeway.
likes to refer to you as ‘angel’.
will beg you join the different clubs he’s in.
and then brag about you to the others once you do.
will hype your choice of attire even if he’s already seen you earlier that day.
the type to also sneak you a latte in the middle of your class.
also the type to sneak in with you during your auditorium classes.
you regret it sometimes because he leaves no room for you to pay attention to your professor.
often times, so much so that you have to lightly pinch his side in protest.
“do you want me to fail this class?”
he likes to participate in the many events held at campus.
everyone knows him.
challenges you to dance offs in the middle of campus.
you refuse and push forward a startled mingi instead.
“mingi wants to have a turn this time!”
also likes to lay in your arms whilst you play with his hair.
“were you a cat in your previous life?”
he will then proceed to meow in your ear.
“i’ll take that as a yes.”
—[ hongjoong - fashion design ]
dating him would consist of always admiring his new projects.
supplying him with unhealthy amounts of coffee.
trying out new pieces he made.
offering to carry his overly large portfolio binder sometimes.
sitting down and listening to him rant about how his roomates fail to wash clothes properly.
he has a guide taped to the washing machine with the different symbols of clothing labels.
“no, san, you can’t use shampoo as detergent.”
“but seonghwa finished all the detergent!”
using seonghwa’s lint rollers to remove all the fabric fibers stuck on hongjoong’s clothes.
you scold him while cleaning the bleeding scratches on his fingers from his sewing needles and pins.
“don’t worry, it’s nothing i can’t handle.”
“but i don’t like seeing you get hurt, you bum.”
you bought him strawberry bandaids because he thought they were cute.
sometimes, when he has time, he’ll custom make clothes just for you.
he insists on having multiple matching outfits.
will ask you to model his work for his social media page.
thinks you look best in skirts.
you’ll be the source of comfort during presentation week.
he’ll be a wreck whilst making a new collection.
but you’re always there to pick him back up.
most of the time, you’re the source of his inspiration as well.
you insist he shouldn’t sit for hours writing essays or sketching numerous ideas for future work.
but he’s stubborn as a mule.
nights with him include binge watching fashion shows or cute cartoons.
or painting your nails.
you both enjoy coffee dates when you have time.
he tells you he wants to open a fashion line one day.
you’re trying to stand still as he plucks numerous pins into the dress you’re trying on.
“what do you think i should call it?”
“hj couture? does that sound too basic?”
he pauses momentarily before spooling the leftover red thread.
“(y/n). i’ll call the line (y/n).”
—[ wooyoung - culinary arts ]
invites you to his dorm and cooks for you.
his apartment always smells of warm spices and comforting meals.
pretends his roommates’ teasing doesn’t affect him, but the tips of ears always glow red.
will always bring over leftovers he made in class.
“i just thought you wanted to try this mille feuille.”
“which one is better? the salted rosemary loaf or the oregano and olive oil one?”
loves to bake and cook with you.
will make your birthday cake from scratch and will go all out decorating it.
has an annoying habit of taking pictures of you mid-bite.
“delete that right now.”
“but babe, you look so cute.”
“jung wooyoung!”
will wrestle with you as you attempt to take his phone away.
“okay, look! i swear i’ll delete it!”
he saves it in a hidden folder.
calls you his ‘cupcake’ or ‘sugarplum’.
teases you nonstop when you fail at something in the kitchen.
“babe! no! gentle folds! you pulverized those poor blueberries!”
“but the instructions say to mix!”
“the dough isn’t supposed to be blue!”
he’ll whine nonstop about how much he hates baking bread in class.
“do you know how abnoxiously long the fermentation process is!? i’m losing my mind.”
will wave and yell your name to catch your attention if he spots you nearby at campus.
you hear him every time.
he’s just that loud.
drags you to new restaurants just so you can rate them with him.
also drags you to go cutlery shopping.
accidentally dropped a plate in the store.
and when the employee came sauntering in the aisle suspiciously-
“(y/n) did it.”
once gave you food poisoning by accident.
you never wanted to eat scallops again.
you don’t mind his hands smelling like garlic or ginger most of the time.
or stained with spices.
“turmeric is a bitch.”
“woo, who wears white while cooking with turmeric anyway?”
will show off and brag about his knife skills.
demands to race with you to see who can chop the vegetables the quickest.
“you’re going down, (y/n).”
“uh- i don’t think i ever stood a chance to begin with.”
he lets you win sometimes though.
will beg you to visit him at his part time job at the cute cafe not too far by.
you always try to when you have the time.
and when he finds out you went to the rival cafe across the street one day..
“on a scale of 10 to 10, how bad is kang yeosang’s cooking?”
“what?”
“answer the question, (y/n).”
“woo, it’s 3 a.m.”
the next day, you explained that you were merely invited by your classmates to that particular cafe because one of them was a former employee there.
he childishly ignored you with crossed arms and a subtle pout.
“your jajangmyeon is much better. they didn’t even like the food there!”
he finally perks up with a large smile.
“wait, really?”
you think he looks endearing with his apron and chef’s hat.
will post cheesy captioned pictures of you after serving you delicately decorated plates of food.
‘two delicious meals for tonight, hehe.’
“gross. did you really have to say that?”
—[ jongho - kinesiology ]
you met him at the university gym and instantly clicked.
found yourself months later agreeing to go out with him.
a giant goofball.
sometimes makes faces at you while you exercise across the gym.
makes sure you watch him when he deadlifts.
loves when you hype him up.
opens all the jars for you.
and cuts all the fruit for you.
“why use a knife when you have my hands, love?”
you nearly choked on your saliva when he punched open the watermelon.
“can we ever just have a perfectly sliced watermelon!?”
“no- unless i break my arm one day.”
insists you jog with him around campus early in the morning.
likes to practice wrapping elastic tape on you.
you own half of his hoodies.
takes you to watch basketball matches.
then challenges you to a match when you go on dates to the park.
will persistently tease you about your poor aim.
and will absolutely not let you have the ball for more than a few seconds.
“stop cheating!”
“i’m not cheating! you just suck!”
joined you in some of your elective classes.
will also wear sleeveless shirts because he knows how flustered you get while his sculpted muscles are on display.
“what did professor kim just say?”
“what?” you tore your gaze from his biceps to glance at his face.
“are you staring at my arms again?” he snickers.
“no,” you say too quickly, face heating quite considerably.
despite his teasing, he’ll always baby you and take care of your needs.
has the cutest gummy smile.
you like to call him your gummy bear.
he hated the name at first, but grew to accept it over time.
likes to randomly pick you up.
sometimes will throw you over his shoulder.
has a habit of patting your thighs.
sometimes asks you to sit on his back while he does push-ups.
your eye bulged at the sight of a mop of ruby hair.
“don’t say anything.”
“you like apples so much you dyed your hair red?”
“i lost a bet.”
“you look cute though.”
you tugged at his tresses, smiling as you admired the shade against his tanned skin.
“baby?” you brushed his bangs away to display his forehead.
“hm?”
“you’re the apple of my eye.”
“i’m-,” he sucked on his teeth and pursed his lips, face scrunching in a mock grimace, “i’m going to throw up.”
#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez fics#choi san imagines#choi san x reader#choi san scenarios#hongjoong imagines#hongjoong scenarios#hongjoong x reader#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung imagines#jongho x reader#jongho imagines#jongho scenarios#ateez uni au#choi san#kim hongjoong#jung wooyoung#choi jongho
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worth it
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: spencer reid x reader
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: mentions of kidnapping, blood and slight choking.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.1k
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿‘𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: please keep in mind that im only on season one of criminal minds when you’re reading this. i was a bit inspired by the episode “300″ in season 14, which i randomly watched some time ago, but i didn’t put any spoilers except a tiny little one <3 i suck at writing fluff and kissing scenes, but i hope yall enjoy this anyway!! i havent proofread this either so i’m sorry for any mistakes :(
Friday, your favorite day of the week.
Not only because it was your last day at work before a long, relaxing weekend, but also because your best friend, Spencer Reid, and you always spent your Friday nights together, watching your favorite movies and eating junk food together.
It had become something like a routine for you two over the years which neither of you wanted to ever miss again. Your movie nights were a perfect chance to forget all the stress at work and a great excuse to eat a crazy amount of unhealthy food, something everyone needed after an exhausting week.
Unfortunately, Spencer had to cancel your movie night two times in a row this month because of an important case which had taken longer to solve than the team had expected, giving you no other chance than to watch your favorite romantic dramas all by yourself.
You had missed him a lot while he had been gone because he hadn’t called or texted once, leaving you sleepless and worried for two long weeks. You had tried not to overthink, knowing he always had to concentrate on the case, but a weird feeling in your stomach had told you that something had been wrong.
Spencer had always called you at least once when he hadn’t been in town, talking about the case with you and telling you how much he missed you, but this time none of that had happened. Your attempts not to overthink had failed badly and you had found yourself creating the worst scenarios in your head every single day.
The countless unread messages you had sent him hadn’t made you feel any better. At some point, you had even thought about calling one of the other team members, but you hadn’t wanted to embarrass yourself or give the impression of a clingy best friend.
So the weeks had gone by without hearing a peep from Spencer, making it hard for you to concentrate and work and not mess up your costumer’s orders.
On Tuesday night, after over two weeks of no message or call from Spencer, you had driven past his house. His car had been parked at his usual parking spot, a sign that he had finally come back home.
As soon as you had arrived at your apartment, you had called him at least five times but, again, he hadn’t picked up. Slowly you had started to think that you had done something wrong and it had been your fault that he hadn’t contacted you for such a long time.
You had barely slept that not. But to your surprise, you had woken up to a new text message from Spencer on Wednesday morning, letting you know that he would buy some Chinese takeout before picking you up from work on Friday.
Maybe you had overthought way too much and he had actually just been busy working on the case.
But the moment you saw your best friend leaning against his car in front of the coffee shop you worked at two days later, you knew the weird feeling in your stomach hadn’t failed you. To say Spencer looked terrible was probably the understatement of the year, but you were glad to see him alive.
You almost stumbled over your own feet as you sprinted towards your best friend, but you couldn’t care less. Without really thinking about it and ignoring his dislike of hugs, you pulled Spencer in a big, warm embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around his thin torso while you tried not to burst out in tears.
“You’re an asshole, Reid,” you greeted him, being unable to stop yourself from smiling at the sound of his laugh and the feeling of his strong arms around you. God, you had missed him like crazy.
“I missed you, too,” he chuckled and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead, tightening his arms around you.
Neither of you knew how long you stood next to his car like that, arms wrapped around each other and never wanting to let go again, but it was the best feeling in the entire universe. Spencer was the one who carefully pushed your body away from his, smiling at you before the two of you finally got in his car.
“What happened to you? You look terrible,” you asked and leaned back in your seat, your eyes fixed on Spencer. He looked like someone had just beaten him up five minutes ago, one bruised eye, a deep cut on his bottom lip and another one right above his eyebrow. On top of that, it seemed like he hadn’t slept in days.
Spencer shrugged his shoulders and tried to avoid eye contact while his fingers nervously tapped on the steering wheel. You could tell that he didn’t want to talk about it so you decided not to dig any deeper.
The only sound that could be heard for the following five minutes was jazz music playing on the radio. You didn’t exactly feel uncomfortable, but you were scared of saying something wrong and ruining your movie night with Spencer.
Luckily, your best friend was the first one to speak again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” he mumbled almost so quietly that you didn’t understand a word he had said, “I know you always worry a lot, but I didn’t really… have the chance to use my phone.”
You rested your hand on his thigh, not really realizing what you were doing, and squeezed it slightly.
“We don’t have to talk about it right now. I’m just glad you’re here and not buried six feet under the ground,” you ensured him, your thumb drawing circles on his thigh. Spencer removed his right hand from the steering wheel and placed it on top of yours, intertwining your fingers.
He was more than relieved that you didn’t force him to talk about the case because he wasn’t sure if he was ready to replay the kidnapping, which Garcia and he had just been through, in his head already. Spencer had been one step away from knocking on heaven’s door, the feeling when his team had finally rescued him indescribable.
He had been so convinced that he would die before having told you how strong his feelings for you were and never getting the chance to kiss you that now he had to fight every cell in his body which told him to pull over and kiss you on the middle of the highway.
In his eyes, you were the most beautiful, caring, supportive and kindhearted woman to ever exist and it hadn’t taken him long to fall deeply in love with everything about you, but he had never found the courage to tell you.
Besides that, the fear of ruining your friendship was always in the back of his head, but now he could feel that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back any longer.
The traffic light in front of you suddenly went from yellow to red, causing Spencer to slow down and stop the car. You watched the other vehicles drive past you on the street, not noticing that Spencer’s hazel eyes were fixed on you the whole time.
His thumb was drawing little circles on the back of your hand, making you smile like an idiot. Spencer was closer than ever to just saying "fuck it" and press his lips against yours, already letting go of your hand so that he could cup your face in his large hands.
However, the loud honk from the car behind his prevented him from doing so, causing both of you to nearly have a heart attack. Spencer quickly focused on the street and started driving again, both hands on the steering wheel. You missed the feeling of skin-to-skin contact immediately, just like he did.
“That’s why you should always keep your eyes on the road. I thought you knew that, Doctor Spencer Reid,” you teased him and turned your face away from the window to look at him.
“A pretty woman is sitting next to me. I don’t think you can blame me for being distracted for a moment,” his words made you blush deeply and had shocked you a bit if you were being honest. Did he just flirt with you?
Spencer was surprised by his straight-forwarded compliment as well, immediately regretting it because he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Best friends didn’t flirt with each other, but was making someone a compliment even considered flirting? He had no idea.
The two of you sat in silence again. For ages, you had waited for Spencer to finally make a move, give you a hint that his feelings for your were stronger than just best friend as well, but you didn’t know if this had been the sign you needed.
The past weeks had made you realize how much he really meant to you and you were sick of calling him your best friend, having to hide your crush on him when all you wanted was to kiss his soft lips whenever he wouldn’t stop rambling about some facts nobody really cared about.
But you couldn’t just… kiss him, right?
You played with the silver promise ring, which Spencer had gifted you a few years ago, on your finger while your teeth tortured your bottom lip, unsure of what to do while trying to ignore the tension in the car. Spencer’s eyes somehow always found their way back to your kissable lips, but you were too busy looking out of the window to notice. He didn’t even want to hold back anymore.
All of sudden, Spencer pulled over and stopped the car. You looked at him, furrowing your eyebrow slightly confused.
“Are you-…,” but he didn’t let you finish your question, closing his eyes for a second and taking a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do before he tilted his head so that he could look right into your eyes.
“Can you stop biting your lip? Because I might have to kiss you if you don’t.”
Your heart skipped a beat, breathing normally felt harder than ever. Someone had to punch you in the face right now so that you could make sure you weren’t dreaming.
Even Spencer was surprised by his sudden braveness.
Every brain cell in your head had stopped working by now and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
“For fuck’s sake, Spencer, just fucking kiss me,” you whispered, almost sounding like you begged him to do it.
Of course, he didn’t need to be told twice and before your brain could process what was happening, Spencer had already leaned in and united his soft lips with yours. Your heart was close to exploding in your chest and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy.
Spencer’s hand found it’s way into your (y/h/c) hair, the other one softly caressed your cheek. For a few moments, you didn’t move and felt like you had a blackout because of the adrenaline running through your veins, but just as you could feel Spencer pull back, you wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed back.
Your lips were moving in sync and you couldn’t help but moan against his soft lips as he bit your bottom lip carefully and slipped his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every corner of it. If someone had told you that Spencer was such a good kisser, you would’ve laughed, but, holy shit, he knew exactly what he was doing.
You could feel his hand move from your cheek down to your neck and as he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your throat, squeezing it gently, you were convinced that Spencer could make you orgasm just by making out with you.
Although you didn’t want to miss the feeling of his soft lips against yours for one second, you had to pull back after a few more minutes to breathe. You leaned back in your seat and took a deep breath, your eyes still closed. You were scared that if you opened them you would wake up from another dream about your best friend’s lips.
Spencer cleared his throat and whipped his sweaty palms on his blue pants, still mind-blown and breathless from the kiss.
“We should’ve done this sooner,” you whispered and finally dared to open your eyes, your gaze finding Spencer’s slightly swollen lips immediately. This was real, not just a stupid fantasy.
He couldn’t describe the feeling, but in that moment he felt the happiest man on the planet.
She feels the same, Reid, it’s mutual. Why did it take you so long to notice?
“We don’t ever have to stop again,” he answered and left a quick peck on your cheek before he started his car again.
Maybe he should get kidnapped more often if it led to a make-out season with the prettiest woman in the world.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#Criminal Minds#fluff#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds imagine
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Fidgety (LoV x Reader)
Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship
Shigaraki, Dabi, Toga, Mr. Compress, Kurogiri, Twice
Anon requested: “idk if you do requests, but league of villains with a suicidal parental abuse victim? you don't have to if you're uncomfortable”
Genre: Comfort/slight angst
Warnings: Implication of suicidal thoughts and abuse
Word Count: 1,255
Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog
a/n: I haven’t been inspired by a request in so long. Either because it’s finally angsty/feelsy or because I found the perfect playlist on Spotify to listen to while writing it. I really like it, it’s the first I’ve written that I’ve been really proud of in a while, so I hope you guys enjoy it. And I hope if this is something you need right now, I hope it makes you feel just a little bit better, treat this as my hug to you.
"You're a weird one."
Shigaraki's voice comes out of the blue, startling me into jumping. He's casually carrying an energy drink back to his room. It's late in the night, I didn't think the rest would be awake by now. I spare him one glance before resuming my activity. "Says the alcoholic with chapped skin and scratchy neck," I mumble a retort.
"Yeah, says the one organizing Kurogiri's alcohol cabinet at 3 AM," the boy snorts back. He seems amused by my position, standing on a metal stepladder to reach the top.
"I wish it was a bookshelf," I mutter barely above a whisper.
"What's that?"
"You're awake too, you know," I voice just a little louder. Amaretto before the gin, Henny right after, I think as I move the bottles around.
I feel Shigaraki scan over my figure again before he shrugs. "If you need me, I'll still be awake, you know where to find me. You don't have to be up late alone."
My hands stop moving for a brief pause. His casual offer echoes down the hallway as his faint steps retreat. The fingers grasping my glass bottles slowly rest on the wooden shelf, letting the words linger in the air, my eyes closing slowly.
Once the moment is gone, I pull one of the bottles forward from the perfectly arranged lineup. There has to be something slightly off, or else it'll look too clean.
.
"I thought you were gonna do the dishes tonight, what happened?"
The shift in Dabi's voice to something slightly more deadly makes my skin minutely jump and freeze. My eyes downcast to the cards in my hand, flicking at the worn corner of the joker on top. "I forgot, I'm sorry."
I hear rustling from him, and I keep an eye on his shadow on the floor. He uncrosses his arms, one of them lifting up towards me. I screw my eyes shut.
His hand lands on my shoulder. "It's fine, just do it tomorrow. I already did them so Crusty won't get annoyed." His aquamarine eyes notice my frozen figure before resting on my hands. "You must really love those cards since you carry them everywhere. What do you do with them?"
I'm still shaken by his sudden touch. "Nothing, really," I mumble.
After a pause, his hand on my shoulder rests on my head, softer this time but still elicits a flinch out of me. "You're not bad, kid. Remember that."
My head rolls up to meet his blank face before he turns around and heads back to his room. The warmth of his hand still remains on my head, sort of as a comfort. It's foreign, but satisfying, and I miss it.
.
"You always do that!"
I flinch at Dabi's sudden outburst against Shigaraki. I don't know what they're fighting about, I tuned out sometime before the screaming happened. A brief image of two people bickering and another of a man's face in full view pass through my head.
"God, you're the worst! Why'd you come here if you can't handle me?" Shigaraki taunts back. "Just go back to where you came from!"
"How about I just burn you to ash instead?!"
My mind chooses to focus on my tapping on the glass I'm holding, my back turned to the two, but I know they're probably up in each other's face already.
"Gentlemen! Let's be more civil, shall we?" Compress's dramatic voice rings out to stop the two. Kurogiri joins him in breaking it up and reprimanding them to apologize.
If only it were that easy sometimes. If only they were there earlier.
A warm hand suddenly covers mine to stop my tapping. "Aww (Y/n) sweetie, are you scared? Should I go take care of them for you?" Toga brandishes her knife, catlike eyes sparkling as the metal reflects off the light.
"No, I'm fine, just keeping myself present," I answer too quickly and rip my hand away from her to take a sip from my glass to seem more natural.
"You know, you shouldn't hide your feelings like that." She leans her head on her hand, propped up on the bar. "You're valid, you matter here. Big sis Toga will take care of all your demons, physical and mental. I'd have so much fun if you let me!" Her wide smile shows off her sharp teeth.
My drink slides down my throat which much difficulty, passing the lump forming. I finger my deck of cards near my left hand, playing with the soft, worn corner of the top card. "Thanks." It may sound like empty gratitude on the outside, but her words mean more to me than she knows.
.
Shigaraki, Dabi, and Spinner went out on a mission and they still aren't back yet. I sit at the bar where Kurogiri left me, shuffling through my cards again.
"Oh, (Y/n), there you are," Twice greets as he and Mr. Compress approach and sit in the chairs on either side of me. I barely nod in acknowledgment at them.
The latter man observes my nervously shaking hands as I move cards around the stack. "Dabi said you play with those cards all the time. What do you do with them?"
I sneak a glance at him just briefly. "I just...organize them. Put them in order." My stack is already pretty much in order. I add in the last of the cards I'd left on the counter to hold onto, save for the Jokers. I stick those outsider cards randomly inside the perfect deck, ruining the order.
"They looked pretty worn in and creased, how long have you had them?" Twice asks.
My finger comfortingly plays with the corner of the ace on the bottom. The cards have long lost their fresh white color, some of the colored parts have chipped, and they're all slightly bent instead of pin straight. They and I have been through a lot. "I don't know, pretty long."
"They must mean something to you, which makes me a bit reluctant to give you these." Compress takes out one of his blue marbles and places it in his palm. Once he opens it, an unopened deck is revealed. "A brand new deck erases all the emotions and memories from the old one, but I guess I was hoping you'd give them up in favor of making new ones."
I take them from his hand, opening the top. The smell of new cardboard and paper hits me immediately.
"Well, it's from both of us," Twice adds quickly. "We know you're probably holding onto your old life and you might not want to move on from it."
That can't be farther from the truth, I wish I can move on.
"But we hope you can perhaps bury them among your more positive experiences with us," Mr. Compress finishes. "You're part of the family now, and there's nothing we wouldn't do to protect you. You're important to us, we want you to be happy even if it takes a while to get there."
"And we'll definitely be there to help you get to that point!"
My hands clamp around the box of cards. I'm afraid to even take them out, fearing that I'll soil the precious gift I've been given if I just touch them. My eyes fill with tears at their comfort, body trembling as I want to curl in on myself.
As both of them embrace me, I can't shake the lingering thoughts of disappointing them, but I'll be damned if I won't at least try finding my purpose in life, and I know they'll help me every step of the way. It feels right being with them here, maybe I can live for them, if that turns out to be enough.
#league of villians x reader#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#dabi#shigaraki tomura#mr compress#kurogiri#toga himiko#mha twice#platonic#gender neutral reader#request#comfort#slight angst#league of villains imagine#league of villains scenario#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction
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TRUCE pt.2 — jj.m
Pairing: jj maybank x kook! reader
Summary: bored, you pay jj a visit a visit on a whim. He’s not the only pogue you end up seeing.
Length: 1.4k
Warnings: canon typical swearing, slow burn, romantic tension
A/N: the amount of love this series has gotten already is really encouraging and while the series is still early on and slowly building I hope you guys like this part!
Midsummers came and went and things seemed to be normal once again. Your incident with a particular handsome pogue was just that- an incident. A fluke. A one-time out of the ordinary experience. But you couldn’t help but to wish it wasn’t.
Since that day you had noticed Sarah at her home less and her father turning you away more often: ‘Sorry kiddo, she’s not here’. You were exasperated, each time you tried to reach out to her she seemed to be conveniently missing. Maybe she was avoiding you on purpose? Or maybe you were just making up an excise to feel sorry for yourself. It was probably just a coincidence.
You walked along the coastline of figure 8. Mansion after mansion the whole way down. You came upon your own house, just as gaudy as the rest with custom trimmed topiary and a fountain in the backyard. Your mother was an interior designer and figured herself a landscaper as well, so your house looked like HGTV threw up all over it.
You swung through the kitchen with its white marble countertops and inspiration blackboard and came out to the driveway through the front door. You had wanted to get your license as soon as you turned 16. To have a grasp at real freedom as any kid’s dream, wasn’t it? So you did your part to earn your card and were gifted a brand new Lexus by your parents. Swinging the key ring around your finger, you slipped into the comfortable front seat. It was plush leather and still had that new-car-smell clinging on.
It wasn’t hard to figure out where the infamous Maybank homestead was located. A few awkward conversations with some locals on The Cut later you were cruising down the road, your eyes looking back to your GPS map every so often to keep you on track. This wasn’t something you had thought about too hard, coming here. But you had nothing to do and nothing to lose.
Pulling off onto the side of the road, you stepped out of your car and walked the last few feet to the dirt driveway and dilapidated house JJ called home. The paint was chipped and flaking and the floorboards of the porch creaked as you approached the front door. Maybe this was going to be a bad idea after all, you weren’t sure now.
Ignoring your second thoughts, you took the plunge and knocked on the door. Nothing.
You furrowed your brows and knocked again, a little firmer this time, a little louder, and this time seemed to work. An older man, JJ’s father assumed, opened the door and looked down at you with a harsh, weathered gaze. A gaze that told you he’d seen many things in his life and you weren’t one of them.
“Wrong residence.” Was all he muttered in his gravely tone before going to shut the door. You jumped forward and put your hand on the door, “Sir, wait!”
He paused and raised a brow at you, looking more impatient by the second. “I- I’m here to see your son. Is he home?”
He leaned back and appraised you before turning his head and yelling, “Hey! There’s some rich bitch at the door! The fuck are you up to boy!?” He sent you one last nasty look before slamming the door in your face.
You stewed a few seconds in your own stunned silence before the door creaked back open and JJ was peering at you. His expression was a mix of so many things it was impossible to gleam even one. “(y/n)? What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”
“I asked around. It wasn’t hard.” You looked up to JJ nervously, wringing your hands together, “Look this was a bad idea I should leave-”
“No.” JJ grabbed your wrist in his hand before you could take so much as one step. He looked back inside his home for a second before fully joking you on the porch. His hair was unruly and sticking out all which ways, but somehow it looked good on him. He was wearing a T-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off on, board shorts, a bandana sticking out one of the pockets.
“Don’t regret coming, sweetheart.” Your brows raised a the nickname but it went unspoken. JJ still held your wrist and pulled you off the porch and out into the yard. He admired the water in front of the pair of you before looking back at you. His blue eyes as clear as crystalline waters. “I bet you’ve been thinking about me.”
You scoffed at his shit-eating grin. “You wish! Actually, I’m just really bored.”
“Nothing exciting to do in your mansion?”
“Believe it or not I’m not as spoiled as you think I am.” You crossed your arms.
JJ gesture to your Lexus parked not far away.
“Okay- well, that was special. Doesn’t count!”
The pogue shook his head with a smile, “There’s a party happening at the boneyard if you’re interested.”
“Pass. I don’t feel like being your white knight again.”
“Fair. How about-”
“Hey JJ!!”
You both whipped your heads around to see none other than John B in his beat-up van. He had his himself leaning out the window, “Who’s your friend!?”
JJ grinned and waved at John B, walking up to the window of the van. “Dude, I met this hot kook girl at the party.” You scowled and hit his shoulder.
“I’m not a piece of meat, douchebag.”
JJ smirked at you and leaned over you, wrapping one finely muscled arm around you dramatically. “Okay, so I met this cool chick who saved my ass from some kooks at the party.”
John B looked between the pair of you and smiled, “Wanna hang?”
“Really? I thought you guys all hated my kind.” You raised a brow, pulling JJ’s arm off of you; no matter tempting it may have been to let it stay right where it was.
“Hey, if you helped out my best friend then you’re alright in my book. Hop in.”
JJ pulled the side door open and walked right in, sliding into the passenger seat with John B. You hesitated but followed suit, picking out a seat behind them. You pulled the door shut after and felt the van purr back to life, pulling back onto the road.
The wind slipped through your hair and the sound of the pogue’s in the front talking was a buzz in the back of your head. The van was big but cozy and surprisingly comfortable for being a fixer-upper to your standards. There were stickers and labeled stuck randomly across all the walls and the ceiling. Pillows, blankets and cushions all placed to create plenty of seating and places to relax.
The hula girls bobbled on the dash and you could smell the salt of the sea and the sweat after a session surfing, the image of John B and JJ riding the waves in your mind. Washboard abs and glistening tanned skin. That devilishly handsome smile turne-
“(y/n)? Hey, earth to (y/n).” You blinked and turned your head to see JJ’s blue eyes.
“What? Sorry.” You mumbled, feeling silly for having spaced out.
“We’re going out on our boat. You still feel up to it? It’s alright if you don’t wanna.” John B offered and you were surprised by how civil he was. He looked at you and you didn’t see any malice, any hatred, in his eyes.
“Oh- yeah, uhm, sure.” You floundered, utterly caught off guard by these boys. You were completely out of your element all of a sudden and it had smacked you in the face.
The three of you got out of the van and walked through another yard, John B’s you presumed, and out to the connected dock. A little boat with ‘HMS POGUE’ painted in thick, blocky white letters on the side was resting there.
The boys were quick to hop aboard and get the vessel ready and you simply, watched, standing awkwardly on the dock. Truthfully, you didn’t know the first thing about boats. And despite living in the outer banks you could count on one hand the times you’d been on a ship smaller than a ferry.
“I’m not too heavy right?” Images of the boat sinking under your weight were conjured in your brain and you shuddered. The boys only paused before laughing at you.
JJ reached his hand out to you from the edge of the boat, “You’re alright (y/n), do you trust me?”
MASTERLIST
Part 1 — Part 3?
If you want more content like this my ask box is always open!
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TAGLIST
@emmasjulixn - @vanessa123-13 - @treestarrrrrrrr - @alwayshopelesss - @mileven-reddie - @downbytheouterbanks
#obx#outer banks#jj maybank x reader#obx x reader#jj x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#jj imagine#obx fanfic#jj maybank#outer banks imagine#rudy pankow#rudy pankow x reader
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Guide Me Safely To Shore (Chapter 3)
Peter’s on the floor in a pile of broken glass, wearing the Spider-Man suit, blood leaking from cuts and various injuries on his body. His eyes are drawn to a particularly nasty looking split on his leg, and for a moment he sees red.
Rhodey’s hand on his shoulder steadies him, giving it a gentle squeeze that snaps him back into reality. “Bad,” he completes, finishing his thought from the table. “I told you it was going to be bad.”
Notes: So it’s come to my attention that I’m a dumb bitch, and I haven’t updated this here in ages. So. Uh. Yeah. Doing that now. Happy New Year to all my fellow people that follow the general calendar; congrats to everyone for surviving this long. Hopefully it’s all going up from here.
If you missed the first two chapters, here you go: 1 2
It is more than a few days, but not by much.
To say that he’d mostly put their meeting out of his mind would be… well, a flat out lie, if he’s being honest. Frankly, he’s spent every free moment practically stalking Peter from a distance. Having men assigned to follow and protect him, watching him himself through the cameras as he goes about the city and during his patrols.
Because of course he’s still patrolling. He wasn’t lying when he told Peter his suit would be waiting for him at home; he’d repaired and done some minor tweaks to it before having it deposited by a drone on the young omega’s bed, but he’d made sure it was returned, all the same. He’s a man of his word, after all, if nothing else. And he hadn’t interfered with his patrols at all, besides monitoring them closely now. Even when the boy interfered with some of his operations. Even if it was pretty irritating.
He’d also began making some basic changes around the tower. Peter is his soulmate; whether they like it or not, nothing either of them will do can change that. So he may as well start reflecting it. He doesn’t want him finally deciding to come after him and being shot down by one of his numerous security measures.
So he inputs Peter’s name and DNA into all of the security, and decreases the safety measures around his personal floors of the tower from above, just in case he decides to come swinging in randomly instead of taking the more normal way up. And on the off chance he actually does decide to take the normal way, he makes sure his name is added to his list of personal contacts, people that are allowed to see him without an appointment and have access to his private elevator to his floors whether he’s there or not.
On his actual floor, he starts setting up a room for him, making sure he has a place to go if he needs it. He doesn’t want to discourage him from showing up by thinking that they have to be sleeping in the same bed immediately; and frankly, he thinks that’s probably a bad idea. He only has so much self control, for starters. But there’s also his night terrors to consider, and he hasn’t slept regularly beside anyone in years, and… yeah, until they’ve gotten to talk in some detail, that’s probably not a fantastic idea. Besides, he wants him to have his own space, to some extent, even if it is where he can keep an eye on him. And he’s still young yet; he may want to have friends over, or at least a personal space to keep the stuff for his hobbies. Tony doesn’t have to be seeing him every second of every day, after all. He just needs to know that he’s safe and taken care of. Preferably in his space, where he’s sure it’s secure, and he’s not much more than a flight of stairs away if something were to happen.
As it turns out, maybe he needn’t have worried so much about the first part.
He hadn’t really considered, admittedly, even for all his genius, that meeting his soulmate might have some physical effects on the young omega. Some… very physical effects. At least, he doesn’t until Peter comes crashing in through his window.
He might have had more of a heads up if he was still stalking him quite as intensively. But the need started to fade a little after the first few days, when he started to figure out more about Peter’s routine: who he was with, what he was doing, whether his family and friends were trustworthy, the area he was living was safe, that he was eating, that he had everything he needed. And for the most part, everything checked out. His friends were clean; his aunt was busy but seemed like a good woman; he lived in a safe enough neighborhood… So by the weekend, he’d backed off, just a little, starting to mainly check in on him at different intervals, and only really watching actively when he went on patrol.
That was his first mistake, probably.
The second was abandoning his normal post watching him almost altogether on Saturday night, when he had company show up unexpectedly.
It’s his own fault, of course. He has precious few people he trusts in the world, and most of them have almost equal access to his security, his information, that he does. So of course, one of them was bound to notice the changes he’d made to his security.
The third was letting that company stay long enough to notice something was seriously up.
He’d say the fourth was having a drink, but the thing is, alcohol doesn’t really affect him anymore, not since the serum. He still occasionally finds himself drinking socially, or reaching for a glass of something strong when he’s particularly stressed or emotionally in turmoil about something, but it’s more of a placebo than anything now. The motion and familiarity of it soothes him more than the alcohol ever could, especially now.
So yeah, he has a drink in his hand when he opens the balcony door, and blinks in surprise when he sees Rhodey, his suit melting away as he takes the invitation to come inside. “I thought you were in California.”
“And I thought alcohol didn’t do anything for you anymore.”
Tony shrugs, taking a long drink of the whiskey in his hand, heading back to the kitchen to refill it. “It doesn’t. I just like the taste.”
“Bullshit. You drink when you have something on your mind.” Rhodey follows him back inside, tilting his head and watching him fiddle with the bottle. “This have anything to do with the kid you added to the security system?”
Tony glances up at him, surprised for just a moment before he shrugs. “Am I getting so easy to read?”
“It’s not a far leap to make. Though the alcohol indicates it’s something bigger than I thought.” Rhodey watches him. “You know I prefer you only set up dangerous traps like this with backup on hand. Why are you trying to make my job harder?”
“Maybe I just like inspiring you to randomly drop in on me. Making your job harder is the only way I get to see you, honey bear. You know I get lonely,” Tony deadpans, deflecting. On the inside, his mind races. He trusts Rhodey with his life, that’s for certain. But is he ready to reveal his hand so soon? He could, but where’s the fun in that?
Rhodes scowls at him. “Tony… really. Come on. Who is he?”
He shrugs and sips his whiskey. “He’s Spider-Man.”
Rhodey’s eyeshadows shoot up on his forehead. “Really. So you thought the best course of action now that you’ve figured out his identity was to make it easier for him to break into your building?”
“Well, he’s also my soulmate, so.” Tony quirks a shoulder again. “Yeah.”
“That’s all well and good, Tony, but you know how I feel about-... wait. What?” The words seem to take a long moment to fully register, and he’s halfway through beginning to lecture Tony about stupid, unnecessary risks just to make captures with a flair when he realizes exactly what he’d said. “He’s your soulmate?”
“Yep.”
“He’s barely an adult.”
“It’s not like I chose it, Rhodey.” Tony sighs, setting his glass down and folding up his sleeve just enough to expose his wrist, the tender skin where the previously ghostly words are now etched in stark black. “Look.”
Rhodey carefully takes his arm to get a better look, then lets out a low whistle as he releases it and leans back. “Damn. I can only assume it didn’t go well?”
“Well, I almost killed him before he said it, so you could say that.”
Rhodey settles down on one of the stools and motions for a glass, apparently deciding that he needed alcohol to continue this conversation. Tony doesn’t blame him. He slides a tumbler across to him and continues as Rhodey pours himself a glass, telling him the full story of the hunt and chase and the revelation as they drink.
“He’s afraid of me now, of course,” Tony murmurs. “But then, who isn’t, really.” He sighs. “I don’t know what to do, Rhodey.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda a shitty situation, Tones. I don’t know.” He shakes his head, swirling the remains of his whiskey around the glass with a thoughtful look. “Is he here, then?”
“No. I released him Sunday.”
Rhodey looks surprised. “ Why would you do that?”
“He didn’t want to be here, Rhodey. He wanted to go home.”
“This is his home now.”
“Maybe legally. But that’s not exactly the way to gain his trust, is it?”
“So? He's your soulmate. Legally, you’re responsible for him now. As his alpha and his elder, concern for his safety should come before anything else. Besides, he’s a liability in about twelve different ways out there. Did you ever consider that?”
“Of course I did! But keeping him prisoner here isn’t going to solve anything. He has to come to me on his own, Rhodey. It doesn’t mean anything if he doesn’t want it. And right now I just want to give him enough time for him to realize I’m not going to murder him outright. He’s already scared of me; any kind of pushing on my part is going to make that worse instead of better, and that’s not what I want.”
Rhodey exhales a long breath, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, alright. Whatever you say. You’re a reckless, romantic fool at heart, you know that? Just watch yourself, Tony. And you might have to consider the possibility that keeping this... arrangement isn’t going to benefit either of you, let alone both of you.”
Tony shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Believe me, my tender heart already hurts,” he deadpans, joking to cover up the fact that it’s not that far from the truth. The bond has a serious pull, even unconsummated, and were he a lesser man in terms of strength of will, things might be looking very different right now. He doesn’t want to acknowledge how close he is to doing something irrational anyway.
“I’m serious, Tony. You know horrible things can happen if you’re apart for too long, especially since you haven’t solidified the bond in any permanent way, yet. You’re supposed to be together more than ever at the beginning, not separate again within hours. The recoil of that is going to be-”
Glass shatters.
They both jump to their feet. Rhodey’s suit reappears in an instant, but while Tony gets up, he doesn’t summon his armor. There was no alarm before the glass broke, which means…
Tony jogs out to the living area with Rhodey hot on his heels. They both stop at the sight.
It’s Peter — of course it’s Peter, no one else would have been able to get so close or so high up without the alarms going off. And the sight of him makes Tony’s instincts scream.
He’s on the floor in a pile of broken glass, wearing the Spider-Man suit, blood leaking from cuts and various injuries on his body. His eyes are drawn to a particularly nasty looking split on his leg, and for a moment he sees red.
Rhodey’s hand on his shoulder steadies him, giving it a gentle squeeze that snaps him back into reality. “Bad,” he completes, finishing his thought from the table. “I told you it was going to be bad.” He heaves a sigh. “I’ll start on cleanup. You take care of your boy.” And with that, he flies out.
Tony spends another moment just staring, unsure how to respond to that for a moment. Peter actually is his boy. Weird.
Then he jumps into action, crossing the floor to him. He’s not wearing shoes, having been in the tower for hours and not intending to go back out, so he lets the suit form just around his feet and ankles, so he can walk on the shattered glass without worry as he approaches him. “Peter? Are you alright?”
The younger man’s head snaps up. “Mr. Stark?” he asks, sounding almost tentative, lenses on the suit indicating his eyes are wide. He’s almost glad he can’t see them, knowing those Bambi eyes would ensnare and distract him in a second.
He wants to tell him to drop the formalities, but it seems like there’s bigger problems at hand right now. “That’s me,” he says instead, forcing a light little half-smile so he doesn’t scare him, furious as he feels. “C’mon, let’s get you out of all this glass, yeah?”
He almost expects the boy to resist, but instead his body practically melts into Tony’s as soon as he reaches for him. He’s surprised, for a moment, and has to readjust his grip to actually take his full body weight instead of just helping him up. He scoops him up, carrying him out of the mess and back into his bathroom. He needs a place to set him where he can get him cleaned up and assess his injuries, and in the middle of the room with all the broken glass seems like a bad idea.
Peter doesn’t move except to curl a little tighter into his chest, and he suddenly realizes the boy is shivering against him. That cold fury rises up in his chest again, but he forces it down, forcing himself not to focus on it, because if he feeds it right now it’ll grow until he can’t hide it and even a hint of it might terrify his young soulmate even more than he already has. And right now he needs him not to be afraid as much as possible, so he can get him taken care of with minimal fighting.
Not that Peter is fighting. In fact, he’s frighteningly pliable in his hands. He sits him on the bathroom counter, gently, tilting his head back to him and watching the lenses widen and close like his eyes are flickering open and closed, in and out of focus. That’s not good.
“Peter.” The lenses flare and fix on him. “I gotta take the suit off to check these injuries out, alright?”
The little whimper that comes from his throat goes straight through him in more ways than one. “Don’t… can’t take it…”
He isn’t sure what he means for a minute, but when he understands, it makes his chest ache. “I’m not taking it. Did I take it from you last time?” Peter shakes his head. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I can’t do that like this, alright?” The lenses flicker again. “Peter?”
Too late. The boy slumps forward into his arms with a little groan. Tony jumps to catch him, pulling off the mask and frowning when he realizes he’s passed out. Great.
Well, at least it makes his job easier, if not happier.
He moves him to the floor, knowing he won’t be able to effectively hold him up and check him over. Carefully, he gets the suit off again, draping it over the hamper for him to deal with later. It’s going to need cleaning, and a whole list of repairs again. Does he deal with that level of damage to his suit and bodily injuries every time he goes out as Spider-Man? No wonder it takes him so long between patrols sometimes.
From there, he fishes out a first aid kit from somewhere, too focused now to pay much attention to anything besides the unconscious omega on his floor, and sets to work. He has Jarvis scan him so he’s sure he doesn’t miss anything and that he’s not in immediate danger. He’d take him to the hospital wing if necessary, though he’d rather not do that again.
It doesn’t seem to be. There’s a lot of blood and embedded, little shards of glass, but overall the injuries are superficial. Only the cut on his leg looks particularly bad. He probably won’t be able to walk properly until it heals, but Tony isn’t worried about his ability to clean it, so he sets to work.
It’s a tedious process, carefully picking out all the little shards of glass in his skin and then delicately as possible cleaning all his wounds. First with peroxide, sanitizing them, and then getting a warm rag from the tub and effectively sponge-bathing him. He was covered in blood, sweat, and probably some other things Tony didn’t want to acknowledge. He leaves his underwear on — a pretty little pair of panties that don’t leave much to the imagination, though he can hardly focus on that right now with bigger problems obviously at hand — but otherwise cleans him thoroughly before taking off his shirt and draping him in it. It’s huge, goes down to the omega’s knees nearly, but it’s got to be warm and it’s clean and it satisfies that little possessive rumbling inside him, seeing him in his clothes, smelling the way their scents mix. Peter’s is just so soft and sweet — like warm vanilla, with a hint of something that might be strawberries, maybe his shampoo, and something else distinctly omega and Peter that calls to him, though he wouldn’t dream of doing anything about it while Peter is asleep.
He washes his hands and makes quick work of cleaning up most of his mess before returning to scoop the omega up. He’s suddenly extremely thankful for his foresight when he realizes he has a place to take him that isn’t his room, and that he’s actually going to get to put it to good use.
He carries Peter to the room he’d began setting up for him, depositing him on the bed and watching him for a moment. He’s just moving to tuck him in when there’s a quiet tap on the doorframe.
“How is he?” Rhodey asks, quietly, seeming to realize he’s not awake.
“He passed out before we could talk at all,” Tony admits. “So I have no idea what happened to him or how he’s feeling. But I cleaned him up and took care of his wounds. He’s not in any immediate danger.”
Rhodey nods. “I finished cleaning up the mess and blocked off the hole. It’s not gonna be good, of course, you’ll need it professionally fixed, but it’s not a gaping hole now.”
“Thanks, Rhodey.” Exhaustion suddenly slams into him, and he sighs, putting a hand to his head.
Rhodey senses it immediately. “I think it’s time for you to get some rest, man. I know you’re superhuman now and all, but you need sleep still.”
“I know. I just…” Hardly ever sleep. Hardly did in the first place. He does even less, now that his body actually requires less of it, but these past few days… well. Rhodey is right; the recoil effects of this are nothing to scoff at.
“I know.” He claps him on the shoulder. “I’m going down to my room for the night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Tony just nods. He waits for him to disappear, the door closed behind him, before turning back to the bed. He reaches down to tuck Peter in, and is surprised when a hand closes around his wrist, stronger than he had expected.
He tries to pry his hand off as gently as he can, but the omega is having none of it, apparently, grip tightening to the point he can feel the finger-shaped bruises starting to form. A quick glance at his face is enough to confirm that Peter isn’t actually awake. He’s just instinctively seeking him, whether for his heat or by scent or maybe their bond.
It doesn’t really matter. Awake or not, if he wants him to stay, then he’s not going anywhere.
Getting into bed with Peter is probably his final mistake, but it feels too damn right to regret it.
At least until one of them wakes up screaming, and things begin to spiral again.
#ironspider#ironspider fanfiction#superior iron man#sim tony#tony stark#peter parker#tony stark/peter parker#peter parker/tony stark#peter parker x tony stark#tony stark x peter parker#starker#starker fanfiction#starker fanfic#ironspider fanfic#abo dynamics#alpha tony stark#omega peter parker#nff#nff starker#soulmates#soulmate au#starker soulmates#starker soulmate au#starker abo#my writing#guide me safely to shore
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In My Blood | 01
— BNHA BOOKCLUB BINGO EVENT—
— In My Blood —
anime | character: bnha | todoroki shouto x reader (in 3rd PoV)
words: 2.1k
prompt/crossed-out: “Myth AU”
Themes/Warnings: SamuraiShouto, Warring States AU, SengokuEraAU (not accurate at all), angst, romance, fluff, mythology-ish AU, star-crossed lovers theme
Inspiration/Song: too many songs, mostly East Asian songs (Japanese, Korean, Chinese songs) such Gurenge by LiSA, A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, Light Years Away (光年之外) by G.E.M, Crescent Moon Bay (月牙湾) by F.I.R, Ikemen Sengoku Opening Theme - these few stood out to me.
Beta-readers:@bakublossom, @sugacookiies thank you so much girls! <3
Tags: at the bottom of this post <3
— part one
In a region located east of feudal Japan, the lands there were graced with prosperity, flourishing with thriving businesses and rich agriculture.
Secured by the esteemed Todoroki clan, the daimyo ruled with wisdom from within an unshakeable fortress protected by this bloodline of warriors.
Glistening blades of their katana gleaming crimson red, these fiercely loyal and protective warriors living by the bushido - literally translated as the ways of the warrior, fought anyone who tried to bring him down with a ferocious fighting spirit.
Intertwined by a thousand-year-old blood bond — sometimes said to be a sacred oath, sometimes a curse in disguise — made between two sworn brothers was the one that started it all.
Down the lineages, the tenacious connection between the Azue family and the Todoroki clan ran deeper than bones, deeper than blood.
Strong enough to last over thousands of years, tangible and rooted so deep that no amount of time can dissipate it.
Even till today, in the time of the Warring States where chaos and disorder wrecked across feudal Japan, the formidable strength of the Todoroki clan was called on, needed more than ever.
The careful, practiced steps of the servants making their rounds along the veranda connecting the main manor and the Todoroki manor was the sign of a new day in Azue.
The manicured and lush, green garden between the two residences was occasionally disturbed by the guards whose shoulders were subtly tense with caution as they patrolled the premises for unwanted intruders.
The morning sun was barely up, feebly lighting the sky above. The warmth it was meant to emit was still too weak to make any difference in the thick lingering cold left by the waning night.
Even so, the heavy coat of sweat plastering his hair over the clench between his eyebrow was a contradiction to the chilly morning.
“89, 90, 91…”
Powering through his morning training, his countdown to his hundredth swing sifted through his gritted teeth in hisses.
Red and white strands on his head intermingled to every jolt his body made with the swings of the bokken in a pair of hands too young to be calloused and littered with peeling skin.
Lean muscles flexing under the white, wide sleeves of his gi, his piercing eyes had a look of ice and fire in them as the polished wooden sword in his hands slashed through the air with a deadly swift in each swing.
Too immersed in his resolve to press through his daily routine to notice the distant gaze on him.
Curious eyes watching from above a pair of softly curved cheeks blinked in amazement and wonder from the wooden veranda across the courtyard.
Ingrained in her body clock to rise bright and early, the boy training on the other side of the garden was the other reason why she was always sitting on the veranda watching him.
She had been warned against stepping into the other side where the Todoroki clan resided, like a mantra from her father, never understanding why.
That didn’t mean she did not try her luck.
But unfortunately, she wasn’t the best at running in a kimono so the last time she tried to sneak over, her father grounded her to her room for a full week and it was soooo boring.
Being the only kid in the manor, the only company she had was the servants and the stiff, dull adults who spoke harshly in low voices to each other with straight, serious faces.
And occasionally, randomly shouting in booming, passionate voices over a big map she once thought was a paper game board she could join, much to her disappointment.
Living in a manor this dull would drive any twelve-year-old crazy bored, but it definitely beats being in her room for a week!
At least with her allowed to be out and about in the manor, she had the servants to play harmless pranks on and could take the opportunity to tag along with her father’s trusted vassal, Enji-san, on his errands out in town no matter how stiff and grumpy he was.
She couldn’t really be blamed for being so delighted to realize that there was a kid her age on the other side right?
Chin propped on her hand, her eyes slipped over to the pile of buns placed beside her thoughtfully
And back to the boy.
A slow, careful exhale was blown through his lips as the hundredth swing he sliced through the air brought his morning training to an end.
The gi tied around his waist were hanging slightly off his shoulders by the time he was done.
Lowering the bokken to his side, the leg he planted before himself moved back to join his other, breaking the stance that held him steady through the hundred swings.
Beneath the tousled red and white tresses interlacing over his face, heterochromic eyes lowered their gaze to the reddish flush across his palm, watching his hand fold into a fist at the dull ache throbbing across it.
“...Pssst.”
His fingers curling in to meet his palm went stiff along with the eyes on them.
The shoulders he had allowed to sag were set once again, muscles tensing for a battle as how it was etched into him like a natural instinct for the last seven years.
Light and snappy on his feet, the bokken in his hand was raised and was held to the neck his eyes instantly zeroed on the moment he turned.
“—Wait!”
The breath in her lungs jerked out to the wood pressing against the uneasy bob in her throat, her eyes shakily leaving the wood beneath her chin and to his.
Only for her next breath to be caught in her throat.
Under the dual colors on his hair she’d seen enough from the other side, it had never crossed her mind that she would be greeted by the prettiest set of eyes.
Glaring back at her with an icy undertone beneath the mismatching turquoise and gray irises that somehow complimented his face so well, his gaze was the most enigmatic one she’d ever seen, one that seemed blazing enough to burn yet frosty enough to freeze.
Standing at a slightly shorter height, the blinking widened eyes staring back at him from a young cute face was the furthest resemblance from a threat.
And so was the plate of white buns she was trying to balance in her hands.
The intensity in his eyes softened slightly with a vague recognition, apparently realizing she was no threat albeit a stranger.
While he was no longer alarmed, he was still surprised to find a girl about his age behind him. The only girl his age he had ever known in his entire life till now was only Momo who he only saw when she visited with her father.
Her eyes were taken off him at the disappearing pressure on her neck, sighing in relief to find him lowering his arm, the tension in her body dissipating along with his.
Shouto raised his eyes back to her face once more, piecing together the hair cascading loose over her shoulders with a slight hitch at the back of her head looking like she just rolled off bed, and the simple but elegant yukata she underneath on his way up.
Servant? — was the only answer that came to mind.
No, even if he wasn’t so good at remembering the servants they had, he was absolutely sure that he’d never seen her around their manor before.
“Who are you?” Her eyes flickered back to his narrowing ones, ”And what do you want?”
In a voice round and boyish, the underlying edge in his questions forced her to tense again.
Her mouth opened, the intricately crafted introduction that she was painstakingly made to memorize, instantly dispensed onto her tongue.
She cleared her throat.“I’m the-”
Her mouth closed — I’m not even supposed to be here, a warning reminded her — then opened again.
“I’m the daughter of a servant here and I thought you’d be hungry after all that, so I bought you some food.”
An eyebrow arched into his hair.
“It’s only for today though,” Panic at the sight of his expression jostled her to quickly add, “No one’s home so my mother is worried about leaving me there alone.”
Her eyes hastily darted to the buns, “Here, have some.”
When all he did was narrowed his eyes at the plate she extended to him, her eyes rolled heavenwards.
The arched eyebrow straining on his sweaty forehead rose sharply.
Even if she wasn’t under their servitude, it was still pretty daring of her to roll her eyes at him when her livelihood depended on her mother’s job here.
But that didn’t mean he hated it. It was a fresh breeze compared to how stiff their servants acted around him.
Tad amusement followed his eyes as he watched her brush past him to place the plate down on the veranda behind him, brushing any existing dirt off her hands before grabbing one off the pile.
The doughy flesh of the bun split open in her hands, the remaining heat inside it leaving instantly as curling steam.
Shouto cringed inwardly to the grumble his empty stomach emitted immediately at the tempting sight.
A slight blush tinted his cheeks at the very unladylike snort he thought he heard from her.
His eyes left the bun in her grasp and to her face, the slight tint on his face growing brighter.
Apparently, from the amusement playing on her smiling lips, she very well did.
“Go on, take it,” Her eyes danced at him as she bit into her half of the bun, offering the other half to him.
His eyes wavered with uncertainty.
“Look I’m eating too,” The exasperated sigh she blew between her lips ended with a chuckle leaving her at his indecisiveness, “so it’s not poisonous.”
Shouto averted his eyes away bashfully, finally reaching out his hand to accept the bun.
“...Thanks.”
It was as if every sound that escaped his mother’s mouth was set to the frequency that would shatter his heart to pieces again and again and again.
As if those weren’t enough, the ugly, dark bruises scattered across her pale, delicate skin where her floral kimono couldn’t hide were relentless stabs driven into him every time his gaze fell onto one - these were the retelling of where Todoroki Enji’s hands went.
What did his scumbag of a father do to her this time?
Every fibre in him wanted to comfort her but the wisps of doubt in his head rooted him by the sliding doors separating his parents’ chamber from the veranda.
His heart, his soul, his body wanted to go over.
But how could he?
He was the product of her sufferings. His comfort was meaningless no matter how he looked at himself or his actions, when his very existence was the reminder of the pain she’d been placed through.
The pain she thought she hid well in her gentle smiling eyes, her soft touches and affection across his skin...
Sometimes it still baffled him how she could still spare him any love. Always ripping wounds of guilt that should not even belong to him.
Shouto moved anyway, his legs shedding off the hesitance holding him back as he strode forward.
The tears dripping between her slender fingers rained down on the tatami floor beneath her crumbled form as Rei remained oblivious to her son’s presence until his two small feet entered her tearful quivering vision.
Her head shot up, eyes widening.“...Shou-”
“What did he do this time?” Amongst his own tears running down his cheeks, the look on his face churned an unnerving twinge in her chest.
The rage in his gaze held all the power of a wildfire, roaring in his eyes. The powerful anger and dark grudge shaking in the innocent tint his young voice possessed was unbecoming for a twelve-year-old.
And it broke her heart.
“Oh Shouto,” Rei brought her arms around his stiff form and hugged him to her, “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.”
She had never meant for him to see her tears; the poor boy was too young to be shoved into adult matters.
Too young for his childhood to be robbed away, just so that he could shoulder the duty of a Todoroki that awaited him at sixteen.
“No, Okaa-sama,” His jaw clenched to his gritting teeth against her trembling frame, ”... I’m sorry.”
A flame curled in the pit of his stomach as a steel glint of promise gleamed amidst the fire in his eyes.
“I swear I’ll train as hard as I can,” His piercing eyes were like the blade of a bloodied katana, “And when I’m strong enough…”
Rising up to his chest and crawling through his veins, the heat of his hatred rolled off him.
For his father.
For the Todoroki clan he had the misfortune to be born into.
For the Azue family.
And especially so, for the woman he was meant...no, made to protect in the future.
“....I will cut us loose and we will never have to look back again.”
| Next (in progress)
Tags: @shoutodoki, @hanniejji, @bakublossom, @sugacookiies, @ererokii, @wesparklebitch, @prismaroyal, @apricotjihyo, @morenabambinii, @warriorsofficial, @hanmarazon, @sauce-pansexuals, @justsomekid00, @lilcura1209, @ewwis, @winkenthusiastic, @thegalxe, @yurioseokies, @jinks-world, @platinumbelle, @wakaoujisenhime, @z-iridest, @bnhabookclub
#todoroki shouto#shouto x reader#bnha shouto#mha shouto#bnha todoroki#todoroki shoto x reader#shoto todoroki#mha shoto todoroki#bnha shoto#shoto torodoki#bnhabookclub#bnhabookclub bingo event
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