kraeted

[kraeted]

contains: sawamura daichi + gender neutral reader + fluff + new neighbor reader + meet cute?

note: i haven't posted this before because i didn't like it that much, but maybe someone will enjoy it anyway

Trying to find friends through apps and failing at it, taught you that sometimes even in this modern world that your mother was probably right about one thing. You needed to put yourself out there. 

After taking a couple weeks of settling at your new apartment in a city hours away from your hometown, you decided to introduce yourself to your neighbor. 

In the short time you lived there, the thin walls separating your apartments revealed he was a man who liked to softly sing along to mostly jazz and soul and liked to watch drama shows to unwind after work. If your desperation wasn’t enough to get you to his door, the glimpses of his interests sure were. 

With a container of homemade chocolate chip cookies underneath your arm —because like your mother said “who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies?”— and a nervous smile on your face, you headed out your door. The dust particles in the hallway made your nose scrunch as you reached his door with just a few steps. 

You quickly fixed your hair and straightened your clothes before reaching for the bell. But just as you were to press the silver button, a wave of doubt stopped you. 

Was it customary to show up to your new neighbor's door with home baked goods or did your mother, the extreme extrovert, convince you of that? 

You gathered your thoughts, trying to assure yourself that it was fine. The cookies were fine… right? You bit the inside of your cheek and waited for something to scream at you with confidence that you definitely weren’t weird. But the longer you waited, the more your doubts started to pile up.

No, it was definitely a little too tryhard. You just had to find something simple to introduce yourself with.

With a sigh you turned halfway when your neighbor’s door swung open. Your shoulders tensed and your heart hammered against your ribcage as the handsome stranger came to an abrupt halt in his doorway. With narrowed eyebrows, he looked at you for a moment as if he was trying to assess you. He put down the full trash bag he held next to him and pushed one side of his headphones off his ear.

“Hi?” He said, his voice clear and smooth as you stood in front of him instead of a wall away. “Did you ring the bell?”

He looked like he wasn’t expecting anyone to see him, his outfit consisting of a pair of black joggers and a white shirt, which was hugging his arms just right. The stubble adorning his jaw and his disheveled hair made you wonder what he looked like in his everyday life when he already looked this good. 

“I was going to, but—” Your cheeks grew warm with embarrassment, your mental script thrown out of the window the moment you decided to go back to your apartment. 

“Oh, I’m not really interested in buying girl scout cookies,” he interrupted you with an awkwardness to his tone, his gaze fallen upon the container you hugged snuggly, “but I know the lady two doors down usually loves them.” 

You cocked your head as his words slowly registered. “Wait I’m not—” you chuckled awkwardly at the miscommunication, “I’m your new neighbor.” You pointed at your door on the right and he leaned past the threshold of his apartment, his gaze following the direction of your finger. 

“Ah.” He smiled relieved, his whole exterior relaxing. He pulled his headphones down to rest around his neck. “Sorry, I should’ve let you finish. We just have a lot of people who sneak into the building to sell all kinds of things. They can be very persistent.” 

Your face twisted into a pained expression. “Don’t tell me they got you to buy anything.” 

“I’m not proud of it either.” He laughed lightly, rubbing his stubble. “You’d be surprised how great they’re at selling their sob stories.” 

“I’ll make sure to not open my door for just anyone.” 

“You’re welcome.” He nodded and he held out his hand. “Sawamura Daichi.” 

Clumsily, you switched the container from your right to your left arm and Daichi failed at suppressing a smile. His size and warmth engulfed your hand as you shook his. Heat rose to your face at his firm grip. “[your name].” 

“And these are actually a kind of introduction gift.” You touched the lid of the container, deciding it wasn’t that bad of a gift after all. “My mom’s idea.”

You handed him the batch of cookies and he briefly inspected them. “Thanks, that’s very thoughtful of you— the both of you.” 

“It’s nothing, really.” You clasped your hands behind your back and a brief silence settled as you held each other’s gaze. Your chest grew warm and you broke eye contact, before it had a chance to turn awkward. 

“I should get back to—” Daichi nodded at the trash bag he had put down.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You agreed, backing away towards your apartment. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” 

You exchanged goodbyes and you entered your apartment with a smile on your face. Maybe listening to your mom wasn’t that bad after all. 

[kraeted]

contains: brazil hinata shoyo + gender neutral reader + drabble + established relationship + fluff

note: this is the last time i'm starting all over. no more deleting my accounts or posts. i might not be posting consistently because my inspiration and motivation come and go, but i feel like my work shouldn't go to 'waste' by just sitting in my drafts for eternity. this is a repost so if you recognize it, that's why. hope you enjoy it!

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” You say as soon as Hinata opens the front door to leave for his beach volleyball practice.

Your eyes don’t leave the laptop in your lap as you type away at your essay you should have finished days ago. The soothing buzzing of the ventilator in the corner of the living room serves more as white noise than its actual purpose, the wind it is producing just as warm as the heat intruding your apartment.

With furrowed brows Hinata stops in his tracks. He taps the pockets of his shorts to check for his keys and phone. “Check,” he mumbles to himself as he moves on to his backpack, throwing it forward over his shoulder and opening the zipper, “Cap, check. Sunglasses, check. Wallet, check.”

You softly shake your head with a smile in an amused disbelief. No matter how often you reminded him, somehow that one thing never made it onto his mental checklist. 

From the corner of your eye, you vaguely notice him looking up at you with a questioning gaze. Quickly his confusion dissolves as his face lights up. 

“Oh yeah!” You practically see the light bulb above his head turn on before he rushes over to you, mindful of the coffee table his lower leg bumped into one too many times. He pulls his backpack against his chest to keep it from hitting you and he leans down to kiss your cheek.

“Well, that too.” His chest warming gesture makes you chuckle and you finally look up at him with feigned sternness. “But I was talking about sunscreen.” 

The realization flashes across his face and he gives you a guilty, cheeky smile. 

The last time he forgot to put it on, the sun nearly burned him to a crisp. Pitying your boyfriend and ignoring the classes you had to attend the next morning, you went over to his apartment with aloe vera gel. You carefully applied it for him, but with every touch of his scarlet skin came a painful hiss, which you reciprocated with hushed sorries.

“Where is it again?” His guilty grin is accompanied by his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“The cream tote bag in my room, it’s probably on the chair.” You answer and you turn back to the screen in front of you. Hinata puts down his bag next to the couch and disappears into your bedroom.

You don’t miss the faint noises of him pushing things around in your room that probably don’t need any moving, before he finds your bag and searches around in the endless sea of random items you carried everywhere.

Two written sentences later, he’s back in the living room, with an orange tube in one hand and a mountain of sunscreen in the palm of his other hand. He hands you the tube. “Can you do my back please?” 

What is a few more minutes if your essay is already late? 

You push your laptop to the side and push yourself from the couch. Your strained eyes definitely need a moment away from the blue light of your screen, the slight burn evident of your exhaustion.

“Turn around.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Hinata does as he’s told, his back facing you.

You squeeze a generous amount of sunscreen on your hand and let the tube fall from your hand onto the couch. 

“How much do you still have to do?” He asks, dotting white specks all across his face before rubbing his hands together to massage what remains to the rest of his exposed limps. 

“I’m almost done with the last chapter and then I just have the summary and the bibliography left, but I also have to reread everything.” You sigh, the thought of it all overwhelming you. “I think I can finish it by tonight or tomorrow at the latest.” 

You apply the white cream on the parts of his shoulders, back and nape of his neck, his tank top doesn't cover. After a good amount of healing and continuous protection (to no help of his own) the redness of his burned skin had faded into beautiful golden brown, his sun bleached hair complimenting his current skin color. 

“You actually do that?” He turns to you when he doesn’t feel your hands on his back anymore.

As he rubs the white streaks into his arms, you reach for his face and Hinata closes his eyes. “Good students usually do, yes.”

He chuckles and shoots back, “Don’t good students usually submit their work on time?” 

You smile, your fingers caressing the variety of freckles sprinkled across his face. “Don’t good athletes usually show up to their practices on time?” 

His eyes shoot open and he glances down at the watch on his wrist. “Oh, shit. I gotta go.” He scoops his bag from the floor and heads for the door, only to turn to you again and give you another kiss, this time a quick peck to your lips. “Love you, bye!” 

He dashes out of your apartment and closes the front door with a powerful swing, the walls shaking on impact. His quick departure almost makes you miss his words, but as soon as you sit back down on the couch, your eyes widen.

He loves you?

[kraeted]

reading and writing stories about my favorite characters to practice my writing

— i follow from @sukrusani

— in a fit of frustration i impulsively deleted my blogs to start over so don't be confused when you see some of my old works on here lol

— do not interact with me if you're a minor or a dick, i reblog and write nsfw content

— suggestions are welcome but it is not guaranteed i will write them, i'm not easily motivated or inspired