#ahdhsba jk

[jiikyu]

Taste of Marigolds In Bloom

Herb of the Sun — Or Marigold was often used during the Middle Ages as a love charm. Carrying one of these brightly colored flowers was thought to bring love.

Though be warned for they are also poisonous.

Chapter III. Life moves fast and you’re not sure you can keep up.

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All characters are 18+

Yandere!Mirio x Fem!Reader(AΩβ)

Y/N = Your Name

F/N = Your Full Name

E/C = Eye Color

H/C = Hair Color

Warnings: Yandere / Unhealthy Behavior / Delusions / Angst

First Chapter Here❦ Previous Chapter Here❦ Next Chapter Here❦

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This whole thing started because of Mirio.

In the most uneventful way possible, like a passing comment about the weather he mentions that he lost his quirk.

“It would’ve been a piece of cake back when I had my quirk.“ The sunshine blond says while leaning back into the cushion of the couch.

It took you about a full minute to process his words and slowly your fingers had come to a stop, hovering over the laptops keyboard.

Mirio’s good at this. Springing things on you out of nowhere, though, usually it’s on a much smaller scale. Such as when he cuts through a conversation between you and a classmate, asking if you’re free to hang out after school.

But this? There are a lot of implications behind that one statement.

And even after everything, after he tells you in detail how he lost his power you’re left to just sit, utterly awestruck. He tells you how his quirk had taken years to master, how he trained every single day for over a decade. Your eyes fall to the many scars decorated across the skin his forearms, like badges of hardship, a reminder of the very thing he worked so hard to lose. 

There’s no resentment, no pain to his confession.

The very idea shakes the foundation you’ve come to believe growing up in hero society.

“It — It really doesn’t bother you?” Your words betray you as they become a little wobbly at the last syllable and you’re sick, sick of becoming an emotional mess around him.

The waver in your voice has his attention trained fully on you, nothing but wholehearted worry in his eyes and a soft smile. Like always. And immediately you understand that it was a stupid question. He’s so radiant that you wonder how you ended up this lucky? Even if this only ever stays a friendship... You don’t deserve to have this.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you tell me this?” You ask, you need to make sure this is okay, that it’s not some obligation that compels him.

“Never once did I think it was something I should hide from you... I guess that just goes to show how much I trust you.”

Absorbing his words you miss the way a hand inches across the couches fabric, towards your own.

Or how he just barely manages to keep something else from falling through his teeth.

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“— What about you Y/N?”

Without warning you’re pulled from your daydreaming and back into the reality of the schools cafeteria.

Weeks have passed since Mirio decided to tell you about his past but... That doesn’t stop it from being at the forefront of your mind.

You’re still reflecting.

Your ears only catch the tail end of the conversation and for a moment you sit in silence. Racking your memory for an answer. Something. Anything.

“Who?” Undoubtedly, your voice doesn’t do much to hide the fact that your mind had been elsewhere and your friends eyes only sharpen in suspicion. Lifting your hand to point a finger to yourself in silent question. ‘Me?’

“You haven’t been listening at all!”

“Sorry! I was distracted.” You offer an apologetic smile before by reaching across the tables surface to the tray of food opposite you, stealing a sliced tomato from your friend and chewing it down. But it’s not enough.

You feel more than one pair of eyes on you. The crowded cafeteria table is well and alive with idle chitchat now it’s your turn to join in. It’s days like these that make you grateful for the creation of hormone blockers, you can’t even begin to imagine the concoction of pheromones wafting through the building right now. 

“What was the question?” Please. You really don’t want them to ask what’s on your mind.

“What are you doing after school?” This time, the very person you had been dwelling on speaks up. Mirio’s seated next to you, and you curse the schools poor decision making. Plastic seats with little space in-between them, his knee knocks against your own every so often. So casual.

“No plans really, probably head home and —“

“That wasn’t the question!” Your friend interjects while swiping something from your own plate, you don’t even get to see what it is she stole. Too fast for you. “What are you doing after graduation!”

Graduation?

Of course you had given it thought... More than just some thought actually. But that doesn’t stop the very near future from being any less intimidating.

“I haven’t really decided yet. Who knows I might have to move back home, save some money.” It’s an honest-easy answer, one you don’t really put much thought into. You’re really not sure what the future holds for you yet.

“Oh you’re no fun Y/N.” Your childhood friend, an Alpha, wipes away a fake tear. She’s always looked out for you and you her. “We could be roomies in an apartment somewhere nice, like in the city!”

A chuckle escapes you at the idea, how you two would be a dangerous combination, and the conversation flows naturally. Between the ever changing topics and your own thoughts it takes a moment to realize Mirios been uncharacteristically quiet. Your E/C eyes turn upwards, pulling away from the meal before you to see... 

Something you’re sure you could have ever prepared for. 

You’ve never been the best at reading situations but... This? That brilliant smile is nowhere to be found and when his ocean eyes meet yours... It’s like you’ve wrongfully caught a glimpse through a two way mirror, you see what this man hides. 

Hurt. 

Your heart drops to the floor. 

And you wonder what is it that could have upset him, the most selfless person you know. You could have sworn you saw his shoulders shake, if only for a second. He doesn’t let you look for too long, bringing a hand to lightly pinch your cheek.

“Aww don’t make that face Y/N!” In a blink everything is back to normal. Mirio’s smiling and it’s contagious. 

You repeat the gesture, pulling on his own cheek in silent meaning. ‘Those should be my words.’

Though it’s too late, you’ve seen enough. 

The future.

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Mirios stare burns into the skin of his palm — Or rather, into the tiny object resting within his grasp.

A pale blue pill sits, waiting.

The suppressant he’s been taking ever since presenting as an Alpha. In the other hand a glass of water, condensation beading down the transparent surface and soaking into skin.

Mirio Togata has never been afraid of the future, but then you uttered some careless words that were equivalent to being pushed into frigid Atlantic waters. Something that never once crossed his thoughts. That you might leave Musutafu.

That you might leave him. 

It hurt. 

He knows you didn’t mean for your words to cut so deep. He knows. But God... His mind won’t stop racing. Why hadn’t you told him of your worries? If you’re struggling financially you could always ask for help, ask him for help. He’s not sure there is anything in world that would make him happier than by making you smile. Maybe you are just being shy. The blond knows the two of you share something special, trust. So then, why was leaving even an option? 

The poor man may be struggling to control the tidal wave of emotions that have suddenly manifested but there is one thing he is certain of, and that is — He knows you feel the same by the way you say his name.

And oh how he wants nothing more than to let this weed and grow, to protect what you both have. He can’t that do that if you move far away.

If he asked, would you stay? 

What if he gave you a reason to stay.

Mirio doesn’t even realize he’s staring into space till the buzzing of a doorbell breaks his concentration. 

And just like that the moment has passed.

In quick succession the blond tosses the tablet between his teeth and gulps down the sweating glass.

Swallowing. 

A bitter aftertaste lingers against his tongue.

Waiting behind a flimsy door is the sign he needed, it’s blissful, because with the twist of a doorknob all of his worries melt away. 

There you stand, umbrella in hand.

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It’s raining.