Sixfold Adventures: A Collection of One-Shots

Dragon!Osomatsu x Reader

A monstrous roar tore through the dark skies, startling me from my sleep as I threw the lambskin blanket off of my body, quickly looking into the night through the partially covered window. Streaks of light shot from deep within the nearby woods, arching up and colliding with a large winged form before fading. I held my breath as I heard faint shouts in the distance, clasping my hands together in prayer as I imagined my father among the throng of soldiers, drafted into hunting down a terrifying dragon that had leveled towns and cities.

We were farmers -- mere field workers whose only job was to ensure that the town was supplied with enough harvest -- but when my father was practically pulled from the fields to help on this dragon hunt...

I shut my eyes tightly as I felt them flood with tears.

He wasn't a soldier.

The noises in the woods quieted, leaving a hollow silence as the night chorus of insects slowly started singing again, determining that there wasn't any kind of threat to them. Worry stirred in my gut as I pulled on a decent enough outfit before lighting a small torch, the flames slowly coming to life around the fat-soaked rags. Closing the wooden door behind me, I took in a breath and headed into the woods where I had previously heard the noises.

If there were wounded soldiers, then it would be best to offer them a place to eat and rest.

I forged deeper into the woods, losing all light from the night sky underneath the trees and struggling to see in the flickering light of the torch. A metallic glint caught the fire near the ground, drawing my attention as I recognized a partially burnt set of armor scattered along the ground. Scorch marks licked up the front of the chestpiece and the helmet was nowhere to be found.

Waving the torch around the area, I sucked in a sharp breath as I saw the limp form of a man in tattered clothing near the armor. His dark hair was short, the red uniform shirt that marked his rank as a scout was heavily damaged, but I could see his chest rising and falling with each breath he took while face-first on the ground. I looked around the area, but couldn't see anyone else.

Gently pulling the man's right arm up and around my shoulders, I held onto him and slowly dragged him back home to lay in my father's bed, taking a large canvas back to the woods and gathering the man's armor. I had to brush out a lot of ash from the larger pieces, but didn't mess around with them too much. The man could take care of the intensive cleaning when he was more awake.

Lighting a few candles in the bedroom, I carefully looked over the unconscious man's body to see that, beyond the scratches and bruises, he was fine. Filling a soaking bowl with water from the well outside, I left it by his bedside after toweling off his forehead with a damp cloth. He flinched a little, but didn't make any other movement.

It was a few days before the man woke up from his sleep, announcing it with a scream that made me drop the clay cup in my hands and rush into the bedroom.

"What in the hell?!" He shouted as he looked over himself, his fingers tugging at the hair over his ears before trying to reach the center of his back.

"Easy," I tried to sound calm, "I found you in the woods behind my house."

"Wha--" His dark eyes looked over at me, wide with surprise at first before a partially amused look crossed his face, "Your house...?"

"Well, my father owns it," Moving towards the water bowl next to the bed, I dipped the cloth back into the cool water and lifted it up to him after a partial squeeze, allowing him to take it, "With him currently drafted into the army, I guess it's my house."