Stay hydrated

And so, he liberally uses the only free time slot he has.

He’d wait until his sisters and mother were asleep and sneak out, pushing his Impulse a little ways down the street to not wake them up again and then drives over to your place. He has a key, so he quietly lets himself into your tiny apartment that feels more like home to him than any place ever did.

He smiles when he sees you laying on top of your blanket, obviously having tried to wait up for him again. Gently kissing you awake just enough so you can both slip under the covers, his mind is finally at peace, because here is where he feels warm and loved. He wraps his arms around you, pulling your plush body as close as possible and as he’s breathing you in, he drifts into a blissfully deep sleep.

You’d both groan when his alarm chimes. It’s still dark outside but he has to get back before they realize he is gone.

As he rides down the streets, grateful for the cool morning air waking him up a bit more, he is counting down the hours until he can be with you again.

How You Met

Mitsuya x chubby!Reader

word count: 2584 || avg. reading time: 11 mins.

angst, fluff-ish, sort of spoilers for season 2

You should have put on a jacket after all. The way to and from the convenience store was short but the freezing winter air nipped at your fingers so much so that even curling them into sweater paws didn’t help. A little tote with milk and a slice of strawberry shortcake you snatched on sale was swinging idly by your side. 

You adjusted your scarf to cover mouth and nose and out of habit wanted to check your phone for the time, but as you rummaged through the front pouch of your hoodie, all you felt were your keys and your wallet. 

Didn’t matter - you’d be home soon. Hopping over an ice puddle, you rounded the next corner, lengthening your stride as you thought of dinner and warm socks. 

But when you could just start to make out the roof of your apartment building at the end of the street, you heard an awful sound. 

Somewhere up ahead, in the alleyway, you presumed, voices could be heard. Cruel and obnoxious, they were taunting someone or something. No one else was on the street, of course, given the weather. You held your breath and after a few more steps peeked into the alley. Three young men in some kind of red uniform stood over a fourth, who wore all black. The latter was on the ground, slumped with his back against the brick wall. It wasn’t hard to guess what was happening, especially at the gruesome sight of what appeared to be blood sticking to the assailants’ bats. 

What should you do? Who knew what they would do to him by the time you got home to call someone. Also, chances were that, if you started to scream for help, no one from the surrounding houses would even so much as look out their window. You had a little pepper spray on your key-ring and the keys themselves that you shoved between your knuckles right now. But would that be enough against three men with weapons? 

There was no way you’d outrun them and even if you did, what about the guy on the ground? As you urged yourself to think, one of the men gently bumped his bat against the temple of the guy in black, increasing the force of the hit with every bump. You wanted to scream for them to stop, every fiber in your body was taut to pounce and scratch and kick. And then, in a split second decision, you pulled out your wallet and held it to your ear. You turned your head a little to the side so the men in the alley wouldn’t notice and stepped forward. 

“Yes, hello, police?”, you said loudly, but couldn’t quite stop your voice from quivering, “I want to report an attack. - Uh huh, three cowards with bats in some tacky red get-up are beating someone in an alley.”

The men had your attention now as you announced the address to your wallet. Once they started moving towards you you’d run back to the convenience store, you thought. There were cameras at least. 

Just a bit more. You began describing the guys in red in detail, making sure to throw in a few unflattering adjectives so they’d leave the fourth on the ground alone. 

When you said one of them had a face only a mother could love, they began to move and so did you. Keys or pepper spray, keys or pepper spray!? The hand in your hoodie pouch fumbled frantically to find the trigger for the spray as the men came closer, swinging their bats menacingly and snarling like they were in some bad horror movie. 

You put your wallet away, but missed the pouch and it flopped into the snow, right in front of the three men. They looked from the wallet to you and their faces split into horrific grins. 

Mitsuya could barely keep his eyes open and every breath felt as if something sharp was poking into him. He could tell straight away that a few ribs were broken. Shit. The throbbing in his head got stronger with each contact from the bat and his right ear only picked up muffled sounds. 

His phone lay broken next to him. The guys from Tenjiku had no regard for bones, so why would they stop at electronics? Maybe this really would be the end. He’d come close several times over the years and it was obvious that they weren’t done with him yet. There was no way out, he was exhausted, the adrenaline was subsiding and all he could hope for was that Takemitchy and the others got away safely. He didn’t want to give those jerks the satisfaction of groaning in pain, so he braced himself for the next and probably last round of beating. Then, he heard your voice and had to watch as the guys forgot all about him to go after their new prey. 

Gingerly raising a very bruised hand to hold his side, he leaned forward a little to see past the trash cans next to him and if his eyes hadn’t been swollen to squints, they would have widened. 

He watched as you pulled something jingly out of nowhere - keys? But you only held them up like some kind of charm to ward off evil and one of the guys howled in pain, holding his face and dropping to his knees, shoveling snow to his eyes with little success, so did the second shortly after. The third seemed unfazed by whatever you had done and laughed, making some motion to grab you, but after you let out a short, loud shriek, you kicked with everything you had. 

The last of them, one of the four heavenly kings Mochizuki Kanji, groaned like a beast and fell over, holding his groin.

You stood frozen with fear, your mini pepper spray now hanging emptied and useless from the keys in your one hand while the tote with milk and cake swung from the other. The first guy you sprayed started to get up again and you still couldn’t move. Would you be lucky enough to land another kick?

Then a siren, loud and clear, echoed not too far away. At first you weren’t sure if you had imagined it, but maybe manifested was the right word, because -

“Mocchi”, the second guy whined, eyes red and puffy, “let’s get out of here.”

As the guys scrambled away, not without spitting on your shoes and making threats you didn’t register, you felt yourself shivering and snapped out of your trance. After quickly picking up your wallet from the snow, you rushed into the alley. 

“Hey, are you okay? - Oh god, of course you’re not, I’m sorry. - My phone is in my apartment. Should I go get it and call an ambulance or can you move? You can get warmed up at my place until they can pick you up. I only live down the road.”

You hesitated to reach for him. What if his bones were too broken to walk? But he already made an attempt to get up, hissing in the process at the pain. 

“Here.”, you said quickly and offered your hand that clutched the keys. When he didn’t resist, you knelt down next to him to sling your arm around his waist and ever so slowly pulled him to his feet. He luckily didn’t seem to have too much trouble walking, but his lips were a definite blueish hue under all the blood. 

The way to your place felt long and slippery, but after climbing the metal stairs together, the hardest part seemed to be done. 

When the door to your apartment opened he was met with warmth and light. It was even smaller than his family’s, but since you appeared to be living alone it felt cozy rather than crammed. A kitchenette lined the short way to the main room, with a bed in one corner, a low coffee table in the middle and a TV across it. A pot of curry was bubbling lazily on the stove and a bowl of half-prepped salad stood next to your sink. You helped him inside after he insisted to laboriously take off his shoes first and led him to sit in front of your bed. Then you disappeared for a moment before returning with your arms full of a fresh towel, a glass of water and a small bag that turned out to hold a meager first aid kit. You grabbed your phone from the coffee table and began to dial but he stopped you. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this,”, you began with a nervous chuckle, “but I don’t think you can just walk off what they did to you.”

“No, I know.”, Mitsuya croaked and took a sip of water, “But they’ll be at the hospital as well. I took out a few before they got me.”

“What?”

He sat up ever so slightly, the stabbing of his ribs making his moves even more sluggish than the cold did. 

“Is it okay if I text my friends to come get me? - I’ll go to a hospital, I promise. But I have to make sure they’re okay and then I’ll have them take me to a different one.”

You looked at him, scared and doubtful, and for the first time he could really take you in. The dried salt on your round cheeks from frozen tears, the disheveled hair, the invitingly plush tummy pudge and big eyes. His heart sputtered and he stupidly wondered for a split second, if he looked presentable. He didn’t expect his saving angel to be this… cute. 

With shaking fingers you handed him your phone and gave him your address to let his friends know, then got to work fixing him up little by little. Dipping the towel into a bowl of warm water from the tap, you knelt in front of him and gently dabbed at his face, your brow creasing in worry at the bruising that started to show. 

A reply from Takemitchy to your phone let him know they were on their way and while he was relieved they were okay, he was kind of disappointed that he would have to leave so soon. 

It was evident from the way you wrapped the bandages around his head and hands that this was a first for you, and Mitsuya couldn’t help but smile. 

“Who were these guys?”, you asked suddenly.

His smile faded. 

If he told you, he would scare you more. If he didn’t tell you, you’d know he was lying. 

He decided on a middle ground, “They were members of some gang.”

Your eyes grew bigger and he hastened to explain, “We must have been in their territory or something, no big deal.”

“No big- am I living in a gang territory?”

Mitsuya smiled again, this time with a hint of pity.

“Most of Tokyo is divided into territories; sorry. - But don’t worry, the one you live in isn’t so bad.”

“You know, I’m having a hard time believing that looking at you right now.”

He chuckled and regretted it instantly, because his ribs hurt like hell. 

“You’re in Toman territory.”

When you didn’t react straight away he felt like an idiot, but then your eyes dropped to the embroidery on his chest and your lips formed a silent o of understanding. Too cute, he thought. 

“Thank you. By the way.”

You met his gaze again and looked away just as quickly, apparently in an attempt to hide your reddening cheeks. 

Oh he was in trouble…

“You saved my life back there.”

“I… I mean, what else was I supposed to do?”, you mumbled. 

“You’d be surprised at how many people would’ve just kept on walking.”, he replied seriously. 

Tears welled in your eyes, but you quickly got up and stepped to your kitchen. 

He heard a low sniffle, however, when you turned back to him you smiled, “Well, I’m glad you’re okay… ish, at least.”

Tilting his head a little he watched you pour a bit of milk into the curry and stirred, before taking two bowls from a small stack of dishes next to the sink. Steam rose in the air when you opened the rice cooker and scooped some into each bowl, then ladled thick creamy curry over the top. 

“Here. To warm you up until your friends come.”

By the time he heard the engine of Mikey’s bike, Mitsuya was on his second helping and besides the broken ribs, probable broken nose, black eye, various bruises and cracked foot, he felt good as new. 

You helped him to the door where Takemitchy and Mikey were waiting for him and he skillfully ignored his old friend’s cocked brow when he noticed your arm supporting him around the waist again. 

“Gimme a moment.”, he told them and they nodded, taking a few steps towards the stairs to at least pretend to be out of earshot. 

“Thank you again. For the food, too.”

“You’re most welcome. I think.”

He grinned for the hundredth time since you met. 

“What’s your name? I never asked.”

“Y/n.”

He carefully rolled the name over in his head and repeated it out loud, loving how it felt.

“I’m Takashi.”

The following day, Mitsuya opted for casual clothing. A soft sweater under a puffy jacket and jeans over boots. A knitted hat hid the bandages around his head, not that you didn’t know they were there, but he wanted to look as normal as he could. The little gift bag from the store twirled around his fingers in the icy wind. Already on the way to the hospital last night he had tried to come up with an excuse to see you again and ask you for coffee and he figured, having completely ruined one of your towels with blood, he would get you a new one and voila. With the copious amounts of painkillers he’d been prescribed, the way to your apartment wasn’t too difficult this time, and if he clenched his teeth on the way up the metal stairs, he could almost feign perfect health by the time he got to your door. He had practiced how he wanted to ask you out all night as he stared at the dark ceiling, while Mana and Luna snored away behind the makeshift curtain that separated their bedroom. He raised his hand to knock and then lowered it again. 

The look on your face when you patched him up, and the scared shriek when you had kicked Mocchi to the ground popped up in his mind. You weren’t part of his world and he didn’t want to pull you in. What if something happened to you? What if Tenjiku came after you because they saw you holding his hand around town somewhere? 

The tension had been rising non-stop between Toman and them and there was no saying how the fight would end. Mitsuya carefully hung the gift bag onto your door handle and found himself hoping you’d open up and smile at him and ask him what he was doing here and he would have no other choice but to tell you he came to ask you out. But there was no movement behind the door and no note in the bag. You’d know it was from him and that’s all that mattered. Maybe once the fight was over, he’d come to see you again. Maybe.

a/n: of course he came by after the battle and asked you out for coffee and cake!

I did not follow the canon events too closely but took ✨creative liberties✨

How You Met

Narumi x chubby!Reader

word count: 508 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

fluff

Not bothering to quiet down, you cursed loudly when you stumbled over the boxes for the third time that day.

That inconsiderate jerk of a next door neighbor hadn't bothered to pick up his deliveries for three days and they were stacking high in your hallway. So much for being neighborly, you thought and barely resisted the urge to kick the corner of a particularly bulky box. How much stuff could one person possibly need!?

Throughout those three days you had regularly paced and listened like a creep at the door for signs that he was coming home so you could ask him to get his things but either his times didn't match yours or he was staying out partying or was on vacation!

But then, keys! Those were keys jingling! You hurried to the door and ripped it open. Sure enough, your neighbor was standing at his door, groceries in his arm like it was any other Tuesday.

"Hey.", you said curtly, "If you'd be so kind as to get your packages out of my apartment." Opening your door wider, you gestured to the mountains of cardboard.

He just blinked through his ridiculous black and pink fringe.

"Give me like… an hour, alright? I really need to take a shower."

"No, you're gonna do it now, please.", the last word you had pressed out in great effort.

"Have you watched the news at all?", he asked suddenly.

"Not really, why? What does that matter?"

"If you had, you'd have seen that I kinda saved Japan."

You cocked a disbelieving brow. "Get your things."

That was not the reaction he expected. He looked surprised. "Wow okay, 55 minutes."

"Listen!", your patience, worn down from the previous days, had reached its limits, "Get your stuff out of my apartment before I'll open it all and keep it myself. This is just… just rude! To use someone as their own personal PO box! You can't just expect me to store your things indefinitely!"

"Not indefinitely, 55 more minutes.", he noted and now turned to you fully, adjusting the groceries.

"Now.", you repeated, voice firm and a lot calmer than you thought you could muster.

"Fine."

You watched with your arms crossed while he took the packages one at a time and carried them into his home. When he was done you were about to close the door when he said, "You know, you could have just talked to me, right? No need to make up any excuses, I'm just a person like everyone else."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Narumi Gen.", he said, pointing to himself, "You should look me up. And, while I take a shower, you can get ready, too. I'll take you out to dinner to make up for "being rude"."

Now it was on you to look surprised.

"What?", he grinned and let his eyes roam over your chubby figure, softened even further by the sweats and ratty tshirt you were wearing, "Just ask me out next time. I think, youre hot, too."