Fate and Destiny decide the path that rest ahead, but who's to say someone can't save you from either of those?
Who's to say your story ends there?
(Team Bucciarati x Fem!reader)
Disclaimer:
There will be spoilers. (Following the anime)
I do not ow...
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─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Cracking your eyes open to the feeling of something subtly shaking your shoulder a sigh left your lips, your eyes were blurry from just having woken up but you could make out blond hair and green attire.
"Fugo?"
"I went to see if you wanted to help with breakfast but your door was open and I came here to see you and Mista passed out on the couch." Blinking a bit and registering what he was saying you seemingly pieced together the unspoken question as to why the two of you had been sleeping on the couch.
"I couldn't sleep last night and I guess Mista couldn't either so we stayed up chatting." Explaining that you covered your mouth as a yawn slipped though, "But anyways, have you made breakfast yet?" Seeing him shake his head you let out a hum moving aside the blanket you didn't recall grabbing. "Can I still help?"
"Oh, of course." He seemed rather happy at your question, responding almost too quickly.
"Alright, just let me go freshen up real quick then." Watching him give a nod and trail back to the kitchen your gaze moved onto Mista seeing that he was still sound asleep. Shaking your head and getting off the couch you moved the blanket covering you onto him at least providing the man some warmth.
Patting your hands together and moving out into the hall you spotted Bucciarati making his way down the hall, the man's attire and everything perfect as always. "Morning." Humming that out he gave a subtle nod followed by a soft smile.
"Morning to you too. Just wake up?" Pursing your lips at that and raising a brow you paused before the man as did he.
"How could you tell?" Upon asking that he let out a low chuckle, his bob bouncing a bit as he did so.
"You've got bedhead." Simply stating that he watched your face contort into one of embarrassment as you hastily tried to flatten whatever strands were puffed up, the quick movements caused him to laugh once more.
"Don't laugh. That's mean. I bet you probably get bedhead too." Insisting that you unknowingly pouted, hands still running through your hair unable to see exactly what was wrong with it.
"And what makes you so certain about that?" Almost curious as to why you'd insist that, he crossed his arms peering down at you awaiting a response.
"Because you can't just look perfect all the time! There's gotta be some point where your hair or something is messy." Making a few gestures with your hands and moving your gaze up to his own you could make out a playful gleam in his eyes.
"Well if you're that insistent, then you're welcome to check whenever. You know where my room is." His words held a slyness to them and the slight smirk stretched out across his lips threw you for a loop.
