7teen. infj. daydreamer. daryl dixon's angel. hopeful romantic. eldest sister. witch. june gemini. silver girl, lost in a high tech world. tarot. sanji's beloved. knitting. charlotte sometimes, scared princess. hitoshi's number one fan. music enthusiast. journaling. occasional writer.
๐๐ข๐ ๐๐ & ๐๐๐ก๐๐๐๐ก๐ข๐๐. lana del rey. the cure. fleetwood mac. french existentialism. arctic monkeys. crosby, stills, nash & young. bikini kill. sabrina carpenter. surrealist prose. the beatles. billy joel. the smashing pumpkins. tรญr na nรg. patti smith. beach house. dostoyevski. bob dylan. simon & garfunkel. kafka. kate bush. hermann hesse. enya. jane austen.
๐๐๐๐๐ & ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ . the walking dead. the outsiders. gilmore girls. notting hill. 10 things i hate about you. x-men. stranger things. the office. knives out. batman. brooklyn 99. friends. watching the detectives. good will hunting. haikyuu. brokeback mountain. one piece. 27 dresses. the fountain. i'm not there. mona lisa smile. little women. the breakfast club.
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Heโs never really had people rely on him before. Sure, that changed during the apocalypse. Still, throughout all of the protection, he has never been fully convinced that itโs truly him they need. Daryl Dixon, useless redneck lowlife. Itโs more like, yโknow, they needed someone and he was available to do the job.
Just once, he wants to be wanted. Most of his life, he has been despised. He wasnโt exactly planned, so his mother downright ignored him, preferred her cigarettes from the beginning just like his father the bottle. With Merle, they at least seemed to notice him. Sure, it came in the form of getting beaten, but he used to wish that it were him instead of his brother. Merle just wanted to leave, anyway. He never wanted to be there. Once he did, Daryl took his place. His father turned to take his frustration out on him and suddenly he would have preferred to be ignored. He secretly hated Merle for going awayโฆ Only to do the same once he gained the courage.
Now, people seem to rely on him alright. For runs, strenght, protection. He provides for the group in a way he never has before, looks out for them in a way he never has for anyone but himself.
With you, itโs different. Everytime he does something nice for you, you smile at him with that glow in your eyes that makes him want to do stupid thingsโฆ Like go back to the bookstore he stopped at for you, and bring back the whole inventory just to see it again.
He gave in to the temptation once. Hunted for a copy of Northanger Abbey in the city and almost got himself killed. Strangely, bookstores never seem fall victim to scavengers. He supposes people just stopped reading because no one can risk being distracted. Not that he ever has. Itโs just that you do, and that means there must be some appeal to it that he missed, which was the sole reason why he stopped just short of the door and went back to grab Pride and Prejudice, too.
Read it in secret so you wouldnโt be disappointed if he didnโt go through with it. It was weirdly nice though, mainly because he imagined the surprise on your face when heโd impress you with his newly acclaimed knowledge on literature.
And surprised you were. You thought he was kidding at first, since Daryl hardly seemed the type to enjoy books. He didnโt have much time with hunting, being Rickโs second in command and constantly killing walkers on top of that. But he took some anyway, just because you liked to read.
โI canโt believe you actually went through with that! Daryl, thatโs so sweet of you.โ
He only gave a huff in response. There it was again. That smile. He turned away and pretended to be busy keeping watch of the treeline, mainly because he didnโt know what to say. No one had ever called him that. Sweet.
Also, he felt the warmth spread from his heart to his face, and didnโt really care for you to see his blush.
However, Daryl didnโt get rid of you that easily. Once you heard that he read one of your favorite books, naturally, you wanted to talk about it. Fuck, he should have anticipated that. You stubbornly stayed glued to his side for the whole evening. Not that he really minded.
โSo howโd you like it?โ Damn your expectant eyes. It was difficult, thatโs what it was.
โEh. Wasnโt bad.โ He bit his lip. Was that really all he could come up with? For lack of something smarter to say, he just blurted out the next best thing. โThat Darcy guy sure is a prick.โ
To his suprise, you nodded frantically. โI completely agree! I mean, sure, he accepted Elizabeth and her family in the end, but that doesnโt mean he really changed. Heโs still at least somewhat superficial.โ
โRight, โs what I thought too.โ
From that day on, you sook him out more often to talk about books. It was both a blessing and a curse. Spending time with you felt amazing, but he just couldnโt match your knowledge.
However, and thatโs only one more reason to like you, you never seemed to mind. On the contrary, you gave him more recommendations, even went out of your way to suggest novels that you thought would suit his tastes. He pretended to look for them, stupid Hemingway or whatever it was whenever he came upon a bookstore or library during runs, but really he just wanted to read the books that you called your favorites.
It was a good way to learn more about you without invading your space. At least in theory, โcause whenever Daryl read a story you told him youโd read as well he felt like he was intruding into your heart or something. Like reading some sort of diary. He imagined what you thought of certain wordings when you stumbled upon them all this time ago, wondered if you had been able to foresee plot twists or which character you liked most.
His favorite thing about reading was talking to you about the books afterwards. Finally, you could answer all those questions even if he didnโt have the courage to ask outright.
Sometimes your opinions suprised him. For instance, he had been absolutely sure that you lied about liking Metamorphosis because you were scared of bugs. Yet, you insisted that it was one of your all time favorites. Your extensive knowledge however never failed to blow him away. Like when you told him that Gregor Samsa didnโt really turn into an insect, that it was just a metaphore. Well, probably. Apparently you never know with Kafka. At least that explained how the book earned itโs place in your inner bookshelf, โcause he swore there was no way in hell you would have liked it if there had been real bugs involved.
๐ต๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ข ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ค๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ค๐๐ฆ ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ข ๐ฉ๐๐๐๐ฆ. ๐ต๐ข๐ก ๐ท๐๐๐ฆ๐ ๐๐๐๐ห๐ก ๐ ๐ก๐๐ ๐ก๐ฉ๐๐๐. If anything, it got him even more hooked on doing nice things for you. Acts of service, if you wanted. Not that he loved you. No, that was no it. He just thought you were a decent person. A little ditzy โ it was a miracle how you survived this long, actually โ but he didnโt mind. If anything, he thought it was cute. No, wait โ not in that way. Not cute. It could get you killed someday, which was just another one of his reasons for going out of his way to protect you. You fucking needed it. Or did he just need you? That happy smile whenever he snuck you a treat?
Well, it didnโt matter anyway because your deserved way better than him. Daryl didnโt even know how he got this infatuated. Honestly, it was infuriating. He had always been alone and nowโฆ he constantly yearned for your company. Scared him a little bit. Not you, you werenโt scary โ anything but, most of the time โ but how close you were able to get. How close he allowed you to be.
No, scratch that. He was terrified because he didnโt only enjoy your presence but also wanted you close and even closer. He liked it when you talked his ear off about stupid old made-up stories and dead authors or how it was a shame that the apocalypse aquired killing squirrels to survive (because they were so adorable), and he liked it when he was able to exceed your expectations.
Sure, it stung a little every time your eyes widened when he revealed yet another present he had brought back to the camp. He knew he wasnโt anything but an uneducated redneck in your eyes but he tried, okay? Though he wasnโt sure why. Not like there was any possibility of winning you over, and he wasnโt cut out for these type of relationships anyway.
Little did he know, the thoughts running through your head didn't even come close to that. Surprised, that you were, but only because no one had ever done such sweet things for you. It made you imagine what it would be like if he did all those things because he liked you and not because you barely held your own. Daryl probably thought you were an absolute apocalypse failure and annoying on top of that, pestering him with book talk. Godโฆ youโd just enjoy it while it lasted.
Meanwhile, Daryl held onto every ounce of gratitude that you bestowed upon him. He felt blessed, knew deep down that there was no way this would last longer than a couple of months anyway. If everything went back to normal tomorrow, you probably wouldnโt spare him a second glance and leave, just like all the others.
He wouldnโt pretend that he was more than a means to survival for any of them. It would only hurt once they came upon something better and left him. He figured heโd get over it eventually, go back to being on his own like back when he left his fathers house. Merle wasnโt out there to lend him a helping hand anymore, but he didnโt need that, either. He had learned to get by on his own, and that was alright. It was just how things were, how they had always been.
๐ท๐๐๐ฆ๐ ๐๐๐๐โ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ค ๐ค๐ฉ๐๐ก ๐ฉ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐๐ก๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ข. For now, he supposed heโd just count himself lucky. Enjoy it while it lasted. โCause right now, you needed him in some twisted way. Even if it was only because he wasnโt scared of anything, neither walkers nor bugs, or because he was tough enough to kill a squirrel so the group wouldnโt starve.
Heโd just go on doing what he always didโฆ Telling you he caught a hare today โ not that it was better (he could bet you were a vegetarian before the outbreak, too sympathetic for your own good), but they were at least a few places lower than squirrels on your list of favorite animals that he knew by heart by now. Once it was skinned, you couldnโt make out the difference anyway.
As for books, the next one that heโd look for was Little Women. Youโd told him that youโd read it when you were only nine. Figures, you probably came out of the womb a nerd. He wonders what you were like as a child.
Part of him hopes itโs one of those girly books that have love stories in them. He likes listening to you talk about those especially, even though the characters that make you swoon arenโt anything like him. Itโs stupid, but he likes pretending that he could be. Even if itโs only for a second. Imagines it being him who changes for you like Mr. Darcy did for Elizabeth, only that he would do a better job, of course, so you would never ever call him superficial.
Maybe Daryl was only telling himself that you needed him. If he was being honest with himself, you probably didnโt. Anyone could do these things. It wasnโt anything special.
Itโs just like with the romance books โ he likes pretending. It makes him feel a little bit better about himself. Makes him feel useful.
It wasnโt a good book. Hell, youโd go so far as to say that it was pretty damn bad, but that didnโt matter. This shitty novel had given you a break. It was a way to escape this fucked up place that the world had become, and everyone was glad that Dale shared it.
Glenn had already read it. It had surprised you initially, since you hadnโt taken him for a reader. He seemed more like an action movie kind of guy, obsessed with fast cars as he was. Then again, the apocalypse left little options.
As he gave it to you, Dale insisted that heโd have packed better books if he had known the world was going to end. It made you laugh, and sparked a conversation between you and the elderly man. Sitting on top of the RV, keeping watch wasnโt your favorite task, no. Youโd constantly worry about missing a walker approaching the farm, or worse, a horde. On top of that, you werenโt a great shot. The isolation of the whole thing left you wondering why Andrea liked it so much, but you guessed not everyone enjoyed doing laundry and cooking all day.
Now, you could understand it a little bit better. The sun was beating down on the RV, heat making it almost unbearable to stay out in the open. Luckily, it would get colder soon.
It wasnโt too bad sitting here in company. From what you could gather, Dale had an amazing taste in books. Came with 65 years of reading, probably. He seemed happy that you could match his impressive literary knowledge, allowing for a nice talk.
It really wasnโt so bad up here if you had company.
It made you think about what it would be like to keep watch with Daryl.
The redneck had occupied your thoughts for a while. Since his dedication in the hunt for Sophia, to be exact. He was incredible at tracking, and still, it didnโt amount to the end everyone had wished for Carol.
Of course, Carol was devastated. Pretty much everyone was. The search had been a reason to keep going, even though deep down, it was clear to you all that you had been chasing a shadow. Now that it was over, morale was at an all time low. Some doubted Rickโs leading abilities, and tension arose within the group.
It made sense that everone was affected. However, no one seemed to see the effect that this failure had on Daryl. Either that, or they simply didnโt want to. He made it easy for them to ignore him, avoiding the group in general. Kept himself holed up in his one man tent further away from the rest of the group. And that after he took a bullet, too.
Youโd think heโd admit his vulnerability and accept help, but since the second he was allowed to get up after the wound was tended too, he hadnโt been back. Andrea had come to apologize, Lori had brought him food, even Carol had come by, but none of them had managed to get more than a few words out of the man.
While you understood that he was frustrated and angry at himself, you were determined to coax him out of his hardened shell.
How? Well, you had a reason now.
That was at least what you told yourself as you made your way to his tent.
Your dedication diminished with every step you took. Standing directly in front of it, you werenโt even sure if you should go inside anymore. Maybe you were overstepping. Maybe he would throw you out and feel even worse after you had talked to him.
About to turn around and forget about the whole thing, you flinched when you heard rustling inside of the tent and finally, its zipper being pulled down.
You were met with the sight of Daryl, resting on his cot inside the tent. He lowered his arm and raised a brow, seemingly surprised at the sight of you.
โWhat dโya want? I can hear ya shufflinโ 'round, yโknow. Didnโt shoot me, ainโt got nothinโ ta apologize for.โ
You straightened, looking a little sheepish as you shook your head.
โI know. Look, I was gonna leave, butโ I thought you could use a distraction. Must be boring being stuck here all day.โ
He hummed. โSโpose.โ
That wasnโt a direct rejection, so you pulled yourself together and kneeled down at the tentโs entrance. Threw him an experimental smile, not hesistant, but not confident either.
โRight. Thatโs why I wanted to give you this. There isnโt exactly much else to do in here.โ
You held out your hand, offering him the book.
He eyed it, then glanced up at you. Seemed wary, as if he wasnโt sure what to make of the gesture. โA book?โ
You nodded. โWhat, never seen one before?โ
It was supposed to sound light-hearted, ease the tension between the two of you, but with your intimidated, wavering voice, it probably did a poor job. You cringed internally, cursing yourself for even trying to start a conversation with him. He probably felt bothered by you, peace disturbed and wished you would just leave already so he couldโ
Oh. Your thoughts went quiet when he reached out and took it, sitting up a little straighter on his dirty blanket. The surpressed wince didnโt go unnoticed by you, and you were about to ask him if he was okay, but he was faster.
โThat Daleโs?โ
A meek nod. โYeah.โ Unsure of what to add to this, you stayed quiet, eyes flickering up to his face.
Daryl huffed, flipping through the pages. Then looked at you. You were ready to be told off for intruding at last, but it was his turn to surprise you.
โWhat, no pictures?โ If you didnโt know any better, youโd thought you had made out the hint of a smirk around his lips, but it was gone too quickly for you to be sure.
Your face fell, caught off guard. โYouโ you canโt read?โ Shock must have been written all over your face judging by the roll of his eyes.
โNahโ, he scoffed, โI can read alrigh', girl. Just ainโt a fan.โ He scratched his neck, eyes falling down to the book in his hands.
A faint blush spread on your cheeks. Of course he could, what were you thinking. This didnโt have to be so awkward but of course youโd go and call him an analphabet, for godโs sakeโฆ
You cleared your throat, โOh. Sorry. I mean, I have only read half of it so far, but Glenn said it wasnโt half bad. Maybe better than being all alone with your thoughts? Iโll take it back to Dale, if you want to, I meanโ"
He shook his head, interrupting your nervous babbling.
โDonโt gotta take it backโ, he huffed. Curt and to the point, as always. His rough voice didnโt fail to make you feel a little silly, intimidated by the one man that had protected you for months now. And the others, of course. Not you especially.
โSure. Okay, Iโll leave you to it.โ Embarrassed, you began getting up when his head snapped up, following your movement.
Daryl frowned, brows pulled together tightly. โWha', ya ainโt gonna read it to me?โ He seemed a little offended if anything, making you stop in your tracks and falter.
โHuh? You want me to stay?โ Now it was your turn to be confused. However, he ended that by patting down a spot in the tent next to him.
A shrug, โYa said ya were only halfway through. Course I ainโt gonna take it from ya now. Ya could be dead tomorrow, fer all I know. Might as well finish that damn story.โ His voice didnโt leave much space for discussion.
You were strangely touched. He payed attention to every word you were saying, apparently. Not only did he refrain from throwing you out, he wanted you further inside the tent.
Your braced yourself, smiling at him. โOh, uh, sure. Iโll read to you.โ
As you crawled inside the tent, he reached for the zipper to close the opening. You made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the small room, leaving space between you and him. Didnโt want to overstay your welcome or make him feel uncomfortable. After all, it was rare for Daryl to allow others near him at all, always the closed off hunter. Actually, you hadn't heard him talk this much in weeks.
You counted yourself lucky. Must have caught him at a good time, then.
โOkay, Iโll start with chapter one.โ
โNah, just go on from where ya left off.โ
โAre you sure? You wonโt understand the story ifโ"
โDonโt care.โ
โWell, if you insist.โ
And so you began reading, stealing the occasional glance at him, spread out on his blanket, arms under his head. He was staring at the tents ceiling, blue eyes trained on the worn fabric. His focus however was on you and you only. He listened to your gentle voice, losing himelf solely in the sound instead of the story. Fuck, he could care less for the story.
No, he only cared about the way the words formed in your throat, flowing out of your lips. The soft breathing, how it hitched when you reached an exciting passage. The small noise of frustration when you stumbled over a sentence and had to begin anewโฆ
If only you knew how much he liked your presence.
Honestly, if someone had asked him anything about the content of the novel by the point you said goodnight and left his tent to return to yours, he would have been at a loss. Didnโt remember a thing about the characters, but all about the way you had invented distinctly unique voices for each of them.
That book may have not been the best, but heโd be damned if he wasnโt grateful for every single chapter.
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โโ If you had to describe ๐ด๐๐ง๐๐ค๐'๐ kisses in one word, it would be calculated. The axis of his personality is rationality, after all โ so it only makes sense that he would learn exactly what gets you riled up, right? It's logical. The hand on your chin, pulling you in when you least expect it, then, his lips on yours. Sudden and quick, he gives you a peck. But before you get a real taste, he pulls away, leaving you high and dry. He just loves the cute pout you give him everytime he does that.
He knows it's mean, too, so he only waits a second before diving in for a real kiss, taking you off guard. Shota eagerly swallows the surprised sound you make. If he would open his eyes, he'd see you blushing. But that's alright... he's content imagining it. Keeps them closed because he wants to savor the sensation. One hand finding purchase on your lower back, holding you pressed against him, secure and protected. The other one on the nape of your neck, fingers curling into the sensitive strands of hair.
Shota's kisses make you forget all about the world around you, that's true. They consume you. His breath fanning your cheek, stubble scratching your chin. He, his body is all you can think of when he licks into your mouth, kissing you with an intensity that most wouldn't expect from a man like him, reserved and rational. Well, he is. Rational in the sense that he's spent years collecting knowledge about you and is not above using it against you now.
What he fails to calculate each and every time, however, is the sheer force of the effect you have on him. He'll be practically devouring you, following the clear guidelines he has precisely developed and mastered specifically to make you lose your mind, but before he can take pleasure in your reaction, he's lost his own.
And it's your fault! The way your tongue moves against his, how you nip his lips just enough to sting but not enough to draw blood. That grip you have on his bicep, holding him tightly as if you never want to let go. The smile as you part for a second, eyes twinkling just before you lean in again, eager to taste his kiss swollen lips. He hasn't even had time to breathe! That smile... Everything is a haze. He can hear your heart thumping against your ribcage. Or is it his? He doesn't even know anymore. Doesn't care.
Shota's kisses are calculated, but the second you kiss him back, he throws all logic out the window and pulls you closer. The second you kiss him back, he's done for.
โโ You don't like crowds. That's alright, ๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ ๐ doesn't either. In fact, he wishes he could spend all of his time with you instead of forcing himself to socialize. It's just... so much better. Hitoshi has been a solitary person since childhood. He used to believe that it's due to the isolation he experienced because of his quirk โ that he learned to live without the help of others. However, some of it must lie in his character already. For even now, despite being surrounded by people who don't judge him for his abilities, who go so far as to admire him for them, he prefers his dorm over their presence from time to time.
Sure, it's nice to know that they care about him and some chaos can be fun, too. However, he found that the perfect balance is you. You in his room, preferably. Isolation feels good, feels incredible when you're there with him. Hitoshi hasn't ever felt as seen as he does with your observant eyes on him and no conversation ever came close to those you share in the quiet hours away from everyone else. Frankly, to say he has fallen for you would be an understatement. He needs to be alone with you because that's where he can concentrate completely on you, without the distractions of company. Your mind is brilliant and your words seem to sparkle. He wants to know your every thought, and he desires to be for you what you are for him... someone who cares. Because he does, deeply.
Whenever you're sitting on his bed next to him, telling him whatever passes through your mind at the moment (unfiltered, because you don't feel the need to hide away with him) his lavender eyes lock on you, glued to your lips. He focuses on the smallest of facial impressions to gauge your feelings, the shadow hushing over your face when you speak about something that worries you and the excited smile when you ask for his opinion on a topic. It makes him want to kiss you. You fascinate him.
Hitoshi is glad that you prefer shared solitude over company as well, because those cherished hours shut off from the outside are his favorite in the whole world.
โ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ... a hitoshi shinso x reader headcanon
sleepy!hitoshi who isn't really an insomniac. people usually tend to assume that because of his appearance. he can't blame them, it's true that he doesn't get a lot on sleep with school and all the extra training. however, that doesn't mean he doesn't get tired.
sleepy!hitoshi who suffers from quirk side-effects. his mind always works on highspeed, rarely keeping quiet enough to allow him to fall asleep. sometimes he wishes he could experience brainwash himself, emptying his consciousness.
sleepy!hitoshi resembles a cat. curling up in comfy spaces, sunlit and so, so warm.
sleepy!hitoshi who feels strangely at ease in your presence. comfy spaces soon becomes anywhere close to you.
sleepy!hitoshi who once fell asleep on your shoulder without meaning to. but he was so tired and your breathing so calming... when he apologizes afterwards, you tell him that you don't mind. you're friends, after all!
sleepy!hitoshi develops a habit of seeking you out when he has to take a nap. the common room, your dorm, wherever. he used to have difficulties falling asleep if not under special circumstances (like his bed, when the room was dark and completely quiet). now, his racing mind becomes all soft and as soon as you're present.
sleepy!hitoshi who sometimes purrs at you in his sleep. one time, after studying together in your dorm and talking for a while, he got tired and you let him put his head in your lap to rest. he was already almost asleep, on the brink of entering dreamland, but then you began running your fingers through his hair. he has never felt this comfortable! you thought it was cute, how he purred like a happy cat. didn't tell him when he woke up an hour later, lest he get embarrassed.
sleepy!hitoshi who is grateful that you don't find it weird of him to nap in your presence. his sleeping schedule is so disturbed that he can really use the extra energy, and nothing fills up his social battery like this.
sleepy!hitoshi who isn't sleepy in the sense that he doesn't take notice of the outside world. it's his default state โ he manages. in fact, he's very observant. he notices everything about you, especially. probably because he pays it special attention.
sleepy!hitoshi who doesn't hesitate to have you join his nap when you're overworking yourself. aizawa had announced a test for next week. you didn't even need to worry about it, in his opinion, since you were very well prepared and one of the best students of class 1A. you still did, sitting at your desk the whole afternoon, trying to fill your head with knowledge you'd already stored. he'd been watching you from his favorite spot on your bed for a while now. when you absentmindedly massage your neck to relieve the pressure that had accumulated while you tensed up over this stupid test, he decides it's enough.
sleepy!hitoshi who gets up and takes the pen out of your hands, giving you a look. you protest at first, but he insists that no matter how much more you study, you won't get any better because you're already best. he gently reminds you of your achievements and claims that rest is just as important so the knowledge will settle. you can't argue with that and let him pull you into your bed.
sleepy!hitoshi who covers the two of you with your favorite blanket, keeping his distance to ensure that you're comfortable (even though the bed is way to small for two people).
sleepy!hitoshi who is a little relieved when you paw at his shoulder, signaling for him to come closer. he would have been perfectly fine with just watching over you, paying the price of a stiff neck tomorrow if it meant you could get some well earned rest โ but this is better.
sleepy!hitoshi who holds you close to him, letting you bury your face in his worn out sweatshirt (your favorite of his) and tries to not fall asleep instantly but wait for you to do so first.
sleepy!hitoshi who is happy he did, because sleepy you is very cute. you're snoring faintly, holding onto his arm unconsciously as if you're scared he'll leave. he won't. instead, he presses a gentle kiss on the top of your head. pulls you a little closer and then surrenders to sleep as well.
sleepy!hitoshi who thinks sleeping in each others presence is one of the most intimate things in the world. he feels so comfortable with you, comfortable enough to do this and apparently, it's the same for you.
sleepy!hitoshi who loves falling asleep next to you... because he always dreams of you when he does.
โโ ๐๐๐๐๐ wants to know absolutely everything about you. You fascinate him โ the effect you have on him, the way you talk, the way you smile. To him, it's all incredibly interesting. He finds himself staring at you ever so often, forgetting the world around himself, as if you're the only real thing out on the open sea. It usually surprises him when he realizes. His cheeks flush and he looks away, busies himself with whatever he had been occupied with before your presence captivated him so wholly.
Sanji is usually unable to concentrate on it for a very long time, though. After a few minutes of cooking, his thoughts begin to drift and oh! Now he's thinking of you again. Dwelling on that thing you said in the morning, the kind smile you offered when he served you a plate of your favorite breakfast that he had prepared explicitly for you. Your laugh echoes in his head, the sweet one right before you offered hungry Luffy a bite since he had already finished his meal.
All those little moments are meticulously collected and stored deep inside his heart, for they reveal who you are. And Sanji cannot get enough of you. There is so much more to uncover, to understand. When did you start looking out for the whole crew? Why do you shy away from arguing? Which past experiences made you into the person you are today? This wonderful, angelic, perfect-in-every-sense-of-the-word person that has been haunting his thoughts for months now?
Not to mention trivial things as your culinary likes and dislikes. Sanji allows himself to think that he's pretty good at cooking exactly what you crave by now. Knows about quirky avoidances of yours, and about each and every side dish you happily push to the edge of your plate to offer to Luffy later.
Sometimes Sanji thinks he may know too much. Doesn't want you or the others to think that he's creepy for memorizing your habits and knowing all of your favorite colors. Is he being obvious? Probably not, since he's known to be attentive. ... Right? Either way, you don't seem to realize. โ As long as you're not doing this on purpose, that is.
God, pondering on this is making him anxious. He shakes his head to get rid of the intrusive thoughts.
Good thing he won't be able to dwell on it for too long until the sight of you has him mesmerized and distracted again.
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โโ ๐๐๐๐๐ fails terribly at being nonchalant. No matter how hard he tries to hide it, he is absolutely infatuated with you.
It takes him off guard when he realizes. Has he ever been this in love with anyone? No. No, nothing comes close to what he's feeling right now.
And he used to think that he fell in love too easily, that he's just built this way. That his heart had some strange defect which caused him to fall quickly but get up just as fast, destined to never be and stay on the same romantic wavelenght with anyone.
Turns out, Sanji didn't even know what love was.
He's pretty confident that he does now. It's the reason why he takes his old recipe collection out of his drawer whenever he prepares food for you, determined to get it just right, even though he hasn't needed the reassurance of a cookbook in years. It's the warmth in his chest whenever he listens to you telling a story. It's the bittersweet pang of jealousy he tries to surpress whenever you laugh at something Zoro said. It is, quite simply, you.
And it's overwhelming. Sometimes, he hates it, hates how it makes it impossible to concentrate on anything with you even remotely close (which is pretty much all the time, cramped on a small ship day in and day out). How declarations of devotion burn on his tongue every time you chat with him. Yesterday, you said goodnight after you helped doing the dishes, and he almost let it slip.
"Are you sure you're okay with doing the rest?", you asked again, even though Sanji had already assured you that he didn't mind. It was well after midnight, and you had trouble not falling asleep on the spot.
"Of course, darling. You should get some rest!" Wiping down the counter, he turns to give you a smile, hoping it doesn't look too smitten.
"... Thank you, Sanji." Your eyes are so soft as you look up at him, he has to physically restrain himself from kissing you. "Don't overwork yourself, yeah? Sleep well!"
His mouth goes dry. He should be thankful for it, because like this, he can only croak out a weak "you too" before turning around to focus on the task at hand. I love you. I love you I love you I love you.
Yeah, Sanji hates that. It's very unlike him. You'll probably notice soon, given that he's acting like a lovesick fool, not at all flirty and suave like usually. Maybe he shouldn't try to fight it anymore. Would you be upset? Relieved, maybe, to finally know why he's acting so strange?
That's what he ponders about as he's lying in bed, staring at the dark ceiling with a cigarette dangling from his lips.
He probably should tell you. For himself, if anything. For closure. Because, if he's being honest... Sanji mostly hates the way he's keeping a secret from you for the first time. He won't be able to keep this up much longer.
โโ ๐๐๐๐๐ who is over the moon every time you kiss him. Physical affection has become rare for him. Sure, there had been the occasional fling here and there when he worked as a cook at the Baratiรฉ โ but nothing ever came quite close to the golden glow of his childhood. The memories are blurred, but he remembers what it felt like to be completely safe in someone's arms. Back when he was just a kid, when he felt helpless faced with personal tragedies, but everything was alright the moment his mother gave him a hug. Now, he might not be powerless anymore, but he still feels weak at times.
Not when you're with him, though. Sanji likes to think he fell for you when your eyes met his for the first time. He's good at judging people, attentive enough to pick up on their habits quickly and conclude their character. It took longer getting to know you. That's not on you, though! Or well, partly โ you distracted him even from the process of analyzing your behavior. Being that he'd hardly done a very good job at charming you, he still can't believe that you fell for him, too.
It dazzles him every time your lips land on his, as if he's expecting you to flinch back in the last moment. You never do. Sanji is known to be a flirt, to be playful, but the second you give him that look, the second you step closer towards him and tilt your head in that adorable way, his knees go weak and he can't move.
You tell him it's cute, seing him become flustered so easily despite all the smooth talking he does daily. Your affection, the responses to his compliments and the flirting still haven't ceased to take him off guard. Zoro teases him about it. And it is justified to a certain degree, the way he goes completely quiet, playful comments dying in his throat as soon as you stand on tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. A display as unusual as it is unexpected, but he doesn't care about that at all.
No, Sanji only cares about the way it feels when you put your arms behind his head and gently pull his face rowards yours. The sweet smile and the beautiful haze in your eyes as you lean in. His jaw goes slack the second your lips touch his. It's a little embarrassing, really โ he used to identify himself with his kissing abilities. It's as if as soon as you're part of the equation, everything he thought he knew about love, all knowledge on relationships that had accumulated over time, leaves his body. Instead, he's completely and utterly consumed by your presence.
It takes him a little while before he remembers how kissing works. Then, he happily reciprocates. His arms that had been hanging at the side of his body uselessly gently settle on your waist, pulling you a little closer. He smiles against your lips. Melts into you, every single time. Right now, you could ask anything of him and he'd gladly deliver. Although that's probably true all the time... it's just what your love does to him. He loses himself in the present moment, something he rarely allows himself. With you, it comes naturally. Everything does. Life seems easy when your lips move against his, harmonious.
๐๐ค๐-๐ต๐๐ก ๐๐๐ก๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ forgot how to cry at an early age.
How could he not have? Tears prove that something is wrong. Even if everything was utterly wrong, he couldn't let it affect him. His mother wouldn't be able to take it. She cried enough for the both of them, back then, when his father hit her, and after he left. Two-Bit had never understood that โ it was a good thing that heโd left, right?
Something still was wrong. Heโd understood that early on, holdind his sleeping sister in the dark room, hearing his mother cry next door. She only cried at night, when he was supposed to be asleep. In the morning, everything was different. When she sat on the edge of the bed, waking him and Brenda with tickles, she wore a wide smile. Only the shadows around her eyes hinted at her troubles.
Thatโs how Two-Bit learned that laughing is way more effective. It keeps sadness away, just like sunlight that breaks through clouds in the morning. Making others laugh is even better. Them assuming you don't feel as deeply is an easy sacrifice to make. Itโs the ultimate declaration of loyalty, isn't it? For eighteen years of his life, that is what he believed.
However, like with many things, you proved him wrong.
Two-Bit always valued loyalty more than love. It made sense, since loyalty was a proof of appreciation, whereas love was a mere emotion, no promise, no real action. His father had told him that he loved him, yet he had left.
Of course, he didn't mind feelings. He liked how it felt when you giggled at his jokes, or how his heart jumped when you fell asleep with your head resting against his shoulder at the movie theater.
Maybe, though, he came to think, maybe love and loyalty can be the same thing after all. And maybe tears can have the same effect as laughter when they come from the right person.
He always knew that he liked you. You just got him like nobody else. Actually, he had a feeling that you knew when he was being funny naturally and when he forced himself to be.
The day you first cried in front of him was they day he knew he loved you, too. It had been after a rumble, at the Curtis brotherโs household. They usually went there to tend to their wounds. Sure, he could have gone homeโฆ but he just couldn't take his mother and sister seeing him like this. It made him feel guilty.
However, he didn't think youโd be waiting for them at the house. Otherwise, he might have gone somewhere else entirely. Because truthfully, the face you made when you saw him hurt was just as bad.
He had a big gash on his forehead and a blue eye. Even though the others looked just as bad if not even more roughed up, he felt strangely embarrassed when you fawned over him. You didn't waste any time, ushering him to sit and getting a rag to dab the blood from his face.
Only when that was taken care of did you take a moment to breathe. Shakily, he noticed alarmed. He watched as you let yourself fall onto the couch next to him. The room was filled with chatter, everyone was high on adrenaline.
Not him. Not anymore. His heart sank as your shoulders began to shake silently and you avoided his eyes.
โDo I look that scary?โ He attempted to brighten the mood, body tense. His face betrayed him, brows pinched together in worry.
You attempted to smile at that, but it looked off. โNo. Sorry, I justโฆ I don't like it when youโre hurt.โ
Your voice broke, and a tear rolled down your cheek. He felt awful. God, he hated it when you were sad. Usually, your optimism held everyone together.
He didn't know what to say. So instead of pondering on it, he pulled you into his arms.
It was a weird hug, twisted, because you sat right next to him, but very comforting. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of your body against his.
After a while, you looked up at him. And your smile was bright as ever, not dimmed even though your eyes were still glossy from tears.
Clearing your throat, you sat up a little straighter, and he immediately mourned the lack of distance. โYour eye is swelling closed. Did you know that?โ
โDoes it look stupid?โ
โNo.โ
He raised a brow.
โโฆYes.โ You smiled bashfully, and he grinned.
โWell, good thing Iโve still got my charm, right?โ
You laughed, hiding your face in his shoulder. God, this girl... His heart jumped. You were gonna be the death of him. Because truthfully, he'd take as many hits as he could if it meant that he could make you laugh. That's probably messed up, but still...
He didn't care about the rumble anymore. They'd won, but this โ you smiling into his shirt, body melting against his โ this was the greater victory.
Your crying had initially made him feel bad, but only because he didn't want you to be upset. Now, it didn't make him feel uncomfortable at all, no, not like he'd tought, not like he'd expected with how tense and avoidant he got in emotional situations. No, with you... Strangely, he felt cared for.