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iheartgeto · 1 year

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𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 | 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢

𝙘𝙬 : mild fluff, explicit smut, stomach bulge, unprotected/rough sex, pussies, creampie, slight edging, grinding, blood, biting, suggestive/graphic language, slight exibitionism, mutual pining, plot w/ smut, “baby” nickname

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 : sunato banda x f! reader ; banda finally meets someone with similar taste.

𝙬𝙘: 3.4k

𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 : nsfw ; unedited

The rough wad of a paper towel itched your skin as you crumbled and lightly threw your marked napkin in frustration.

“fuck this all” you muttered, gripping your hair—slight pain casting on you from the tightness of your pull.

The second to last circle you had drawn out on the napkin had finally been crossed out. You used this puny tissue to keep track of your days, in hopes you’d never run out of them. However, you had one circle left, and only a day left on your visa.

kicking the gravel along the wide path, you eyed the large blimp floating atop this place of confinement. A jack. The jack of hearts— Not a queen or king, but the “easiest” of the face cards. actually- don’t even kid yourself. you picked the dry skin off your fingers in a nervous fit as you walked through the gates of the penitentiary. you zipped up your jacket, covering the bikini top (complimentary from the beach, a place that served you basically no purpose other than surviving these games) that revealed more than your liking.

whatever, that place was long gone thanks to chishiya, kuina, and the rest of his crazy gang. gladly you had been on decent terms with them, even going so far as to help him gain parts for his weird invention. he required a specific part that seemed to be needed to spread heat? probably made some stupid crap to smoke or cook up a barbecue, whatever weird shit that freak was up to.

Making your way through the entrance, you came to a stop. The white luminescent lights buzzed through the empty hallway as your heart beat was getting faster and faster. Albeit your immense nervousness, you kept a rested expression. The game hadn’t even started yet but you were shaking. this was exciting.

“Put on a collar and go upstairs to the central guard room”.

two black collars rested in front of you. The glossy table stared up at you as you contemplated your decision in joining. Not like you had a choice, it was either this or the red beam of death from the sky. might as well try to live, regardless of how shitty this situation was. you wouldn’t let your misery consume you. or at least that’s how most people would approach life.

you simply strived to live. if you were gonna die, it would be through one these stupid fucking games—not from drowning in the depths of your own self loathing. even then, you still didn’t want these randoms to be the cause of your anticlimactic death. this world was quite beautiful anyways. the intensity, complexity, and structure of this newfound world was simply beautiful. this elysian paradise was addicting. because of this, you would let yourself have fun. just win this game for the small reward of life and some entertainment.

finally, a place for you to let loose and have some real fun.

Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps grew closer and closer, knocking you out of your short-lived daze. the man stopped next to you, slowly observing the beautiful scenery of dirty bleak walls and prison cells. he smirked, and closed his eyes with a serene look. it was as if he was home. you observed his face with jealousy— you longingly wished for your nerves to wash away and feel this lost sense of serenity.

“do you think this will be fun?” you asked, a polite smile etching your face as you observed his features. his broad shoulders covering you even while trying to make small talk. “i really hope it will”.

“most definitely” he replied, eyes curling into mini crescents yet his overall face remained unphased.

“hm, i agree. but would you mind helping me with this? i’m not sure how to close this lock” you looked up at him. your doe eyes glistened in the white light as he stared you down.

“of course, come closer” he said. his voice was low and smooth, the kind you could listen to all day. his hot hands moved your hair away from your neck to allow the lock to clasp. however, his hands rested on your throat a little longer than expected. he slowly massaged the place where the lock had clasped and bent down to your ear, his hot breath skipping over your skin. he sees your hands trembling and grasps them to stop it as he caresses your palm.

“it feels nice to know someone else is excited to play this game, it seems to me that we are quite alike” he whispered lowly, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear this reveal.

you knew damn well how to lock this simple little collar, but why miss your chance with a man who caught your attention.

“maybe we are, thanks and good luck then”, you smiled cheerfully, patting him on the back, walking past him into the main prison area. he stared at your back, grinning at his newfound infatuation.

as you made your way into the main area, you glanced at the crowd around you. the majority was tense and filled with fear. you almost burst out laughing after seeing this blond haired man. chishiya seemed to be alive and well. good for him.

“long time no see, never’d expect to see you here chishiya”, you stood next to him.

“there's many places i’d rather be” he replied, not looking back and staring at the screen in front of him. there was no need to catch up as you both knew the situation. you both understood that the catching up could come after the game.

“you may pass time anywhere you like until it is time to enter a prison cell”

There was an awkward silence going around, until people decided to start grouping up and leave.

“hey let’s tell each other” a timid man in overalls and a yellow shirt turned to you and chishiya. you nodded in agreement—sounded like a decent idea.

“If you want to survive you need to observe everyone closely, do you want to know what they were doing before the game began?”, chishiya remarked, the three of you turned in the direction of a couple in suits. chishiya went on to explain in graphic detail, causing the poor man to cringe.

“that guy’s confidence won’t let her get involved with anyone else”.

“I was thinking the exact same thing”, you said with amusement.

Watching from above, the three of you observed a pair that seemed to be making a deal. The man from earlier, and another one with a dark aura. Glancing at the screen you find out their names are banda and matsushita. The girl with a blue dress then asked the three of you to join her team. The three of you didn't mind, so you decided to join. Chishiya, overalls, and you exchanged signs and just tagged along with the group. And that was the end of the first round.

“Hurry up and tell me, fucker!” a rough voice screamed, throwing a poor man in front of everyone. banda went to his rescue and whispered into his ear. sly bitch. you and chishiya glanced at each other, as you knew you saw the same thing.

The group of people then continued on with their antics of telling eachother their signs. From across the room you met his cold gaze. He was seated on the floor, staring blankly at you. You stared back, harnessing a smile in which he returned and waved. Chishiya observed the two of you, a little freaked out by your “kind” facade. And if chishiya was freaked out, then the poor guy next to him was petrified at the interaction in front of him.

The group migrated to the snack room, and from there the game went downhill. Everyone slowly began lying to each other, leaving only your group of three and the two pairs. However, your kind friend could not handle the intensity of the game. an explosion being heard a few cells away from yours.

“he was far too kind hearted for this game” chishiya sighed. You glanced at his bloodied body through the holes of the cell.

“he’s the kind of person i want to be”, you replied. heaving a long exhale of slight sadness at the sight of the poor boy.

“It’s not too late for that, but i think it's about time we start socializing, '' he replied with sarcastic enthusiasm.

“funny coming from you” you scoffed, but understood what he meant. Chishiya would stay in the snack cellar while you would go upstairs and watch. As you started up the stairs you passed by matsushita, paying him no mind as you knew what this meant. banda would be by himself. Being in such a rush you trip on yourself, bracing yourself to fall face forward til someone stops you.

Banda catches you, pulling you in tight for an unexpected hug. “thanks for catching me there”, you smile, your warm hand meeting his, as he holds you in his embrace. “you even helped out that poor guy who was being bullied— i mean he’s gone now but what did you say to him anyways, some words of encouragement? you seem like such a nice person”.

“thanks, but i’m not fucking stupid” he replied with a silent smile. “drop the act y/n. judging from the way you’re approaching me— you know damn well what i said, c’mon you’re a smart girl right?”. he grabs your wrist, pulling you up as he then corners you against the wall, a dark area of the prison covered by a turn.

“I’m actually pretty dumb” you paused, banda laughed. lowly chuckling at your poor attempts to conceal your true self. “so tell me, why would you encourage him to lie?— you made such a mess of everyone and now we’re the only ones left” you stare up at him, his patronizing gaze looking down at you. you were so close his breath barely touched you. “you aren’t the jack, are you?”.

“who knows? why are you in this game anyways? you don’t really seem like the type”. this conversation was amusing him, you could see it in his expression that he was enjoying this to the fullest.

“what do i seem like then”, you asked. pure curiosity leaking out of your statement, placing a hand to your chin, mocking his question.

“a cute girl who’s letting on less than she really is”, banda relayed, a cold expression etching his face.

his response caught you off guard. “so what if i am? better to appear lower than others than have people at my neck trying to bring me down”, you replied with haste. god, you were so adorable when you were worried. this was getting him excited.

“well smart girl, what do you really think about this game? this place even?”. he kept questioning you, making you feel on edge. you couldn’t tell where this was going.

“I don’t care how you view this place banda, but for me i feel free. i can do whatever i want as long as i play these fun games— i mean sometimes they aren’t so much fun, it’s like a hassle i guess, but it’s a fair price —and they always lead me to interesting people like you”, you replied, slightly afraid of being judged.

banda watched you speak with ease. he was so intrigued with your tinge of confidence and slight intelligence. he also thought you were really damn cute for thinking you could fool him. not knowing how to lock a simple collar? c’mon you were better than that baby. he knew you wanted him, but he wanted you more. he wanted to corrupt you. fuck your cute little brains up and make you his. mold you to match his lovely thoughts on the borderlands. you both already enjoyed the place and you were just too entertaining to not keep around.

“we really are similar”, he said with a crazed relief, caressing your cheek and staring at you in awe. “until now, i’ve never been in a land as beautiful as this one, nor met two people so worthy of my trust”.

“i suppose matsushita is just as agreeable as i am then?” you joke, pulling his hand off your cheek and lengthening the distance between you two. he was making you feel a type of way. you felt your body getting warmer and your breath getting ragged.

“no, not him at all— he’s a very condescending individual, but i guess that’s the only redeeming quality of his. i met yaba a while ago, we are equals in which we agree this place is a true paradise and that we trust each other enough to deduce who the jack is”. he pauses, and continues to keep his focus on your face. “matsushita’s confidence kinda reminds me of you” he jokes.

“god, my “confidence”— or whatever the hell you’re even referring to doesn’t mean anything. don’t group me with people like matsushita, I didn’t even have to speak to him to tell he was a cocky bitch!”, you became defensive and bursted out.

“there’s the y/n i was looking for”, banda commented. you sensed some sarcasm and wished to settle whatever he was going off about. you hated that he felt the need to tease you—honestly maybe you enjoyed it, you just wanted to be on decent terms.

“i really don’t think i’m better than you—if that’s what your insinuating, but i do feel like we have similar tastes. and for that i trust you—want to be friends?”. for a moment you stared at each other as you awaited for his response. you wanted to be friends? how naive could you fucking be? banda wanted to erupt with laughter and slap you in the face as he ruined you.

“oh we’re gonna be more than friends” he whispered. your cheeks became redder as he kept getting closer, and you were letting him. “let’s make a deal, i’ll tell you your symbol if you help me”. his hard tent rutted against your leg as you felt him knee your soaking pussy. His leg began applying pressure to your needy clit.

“c- chishiya would tell me my symbol so why—

“then this is just an excuse to fuck your soaking little cunt. i like you”, he confessed, as if he was a schoolboy asking out a girl for the first time. his face was flushed red as he started sucking your neck, leaving a trail of purple kisses down to your chest. Banda unzipped your jacket, revealing the bikini from the beach. his rough hands slid your bikini under your boobs. you felt heated up as he sucked your tits. His head tilted as his mouth kept continuing to lick your buds, groaning as you grew sensitive to his touch.

“i- i like you too”, you whimpered, airy breaths leaving your mouth. “please..!” you mewled, as he continued to suck.

“please what? gotta use your words baby” he smirked as his thumb circled your airway. he sensually massaged it as his lips met yours, his teeth sinking into the flesh of your soft lips.

"A-Ah..!" you gasped, a small trail of blood leaked down the corner of your lip. his mind clouded with lust as he lapped up the red liquid. “you taste so fucking good” he groaned. “what do you want my sweet girl?”

“ i want- need you so bad- please!”, you continued to whimper his name, constantly reciting it as if it were a sacred prayer. “i want you to ruin me with your fat cock!” you quietly screamed. you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him so bad. he suddenly began removing his pants, the fast sound of his buckle dropping to the floor echoed throughout the hallway. you glanced in awe, he was big. how the hell would he even fit? his meat slapped the lower area of his stomach as his tip leaked with pre cum. he pumped his veiny length, lathering it in his own liquid, and stuck his long fingers in your mouth.

“mmgph!” you almost choked at how deep he stuck them in. but it tasted too good. so sweet and musky.

you circled your tongue his fingers, lapping up whatever he gave you. this caused him to smirk as he released his fingers from your mouth, causing a pop sound to echo. he slowly sunk his cock inside of your soppy cunt, hands gripping your waist as his hard length went inside you. he bit his lips, and his eyes were laced with ecstasy as your right walls shaped around him. you were so fucking tight.

“god you were made for me—your all mine- shit” he groaned, intertwining your hands and kissing you hardly. you replied with sweet moans, and watched his pace get faster and his strokes get deeper. lewd pants filled the hallway as his heavy balls slapped your clit, pounding you against the wall. you were both so oblivious to your surroundings, clouded only with the thought of each other’s touch and the feeling of release. you felt every one of his veins as he took you raw. his large cock shaped your pussy, as a bulge could be seen. banda groaned at the sight, lightly pressing down on it as you both moaned in pleasure. tears dripped from the corner of your eyes as banda watched you in ecstasy. you were so fucking beautiful.

you arched your back as he finally hit that spot. “r-right there banda please- please don’t stop” you sighed. “you feel so good princess ugh fuck” he groaned out, continuing his rough pace. your tits bounced up and down as he rammed into you, fucking you with a pure high. he felt as if you were a drug, one that he could never get enough of.

“i- i’m so close, i’m gonna cum!” you exclaimed with a volume. banda smirked, letting go of your hand to rub the edge of your pussy. the two of you were covered in sweat and saliva. “come for me y/n”. then it hit you hard, like a tsunami. you threw your head back, biting your lips in attempt to contain your deep moan. you let out silent screams as he continued to harshly ram into you, chasing his own high. your tongue lolled out of your mouth and eyes hazed with pleasure as the only thing you could think about was banda.

his eyes stared at the messy sight before him as he suddenly choked out a deep groan. “fuck baby mmph- you took me so well”. your white pleasure gushed around his cock, leaking out of your cunt. a white ring of cum covered his length as he continued to ram into you. and then his orgasm hit, filling your cunt with thick cum as your pussy pulsed and your body spasmed. his legs shook at how hard he came, and he pressed his forehead against yours, the both of you basking in each other’s heat. your brains were fogged from the intensity the both of you had just endured.

“i- i really like you y/n, i want to be with you forever”, he whispered over the two of you catching yours breaths. you would’ve drifted off to sleep if banda hadn’t insisted the two of you go back to the main area. helping you get dressed, the two of you head back to the main hall. he kissed your forehead before watching you head back down to the snack cellar to talk to chishiya.

“hahahahahahhaa” a crazed laugh escapes from matsushita’s lips. he thinks he finally won.

However, chishiya had emerged from his cell, and you followed suit. Strong arms wrapped around your body as a banda had come out of his cell as well. the four of you had deduced matsushita was the jack. Chishiya, banda, and yaba had explained their tactics to matsushita as they started to corner him into a cell.

“hold this for me baby?” he asked with a soft tone, holding out his scalpel. you grabbed it as he affectionately patted your head and grew closer to yaba. yaba took off his blazer, preparing for their violence and hopefully new information about the borderlands. “It’s unfortunate that i can’t kill you, but i can still have fun with you”.

i need more banda content, it’s so dry out here. :,) | sorry if anything was incoherent its late rn LOL

#banda sunato #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #banda x reader #banda sunato x reader #sunato x reader #sunato banda x reader #banda #imawa no kuni no arisu #sunato banda

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raz-writes-the-thing · 3 months

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Sometimes All We Need Is A Good Cry (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: it's in the title

Fic type: emotional hurt/comfort

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper@merrilark @jaziona92 @yeehawbrothers @mochabonesblog @iguirisu @thegen3sisark @wereallbrokenangels (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sometimes feelings can be extremely overwhelming. Sometimes when your feelings are so overwhelming that you can’t even breathe, you find yourself tucking away into a dark corner somewhere private so you can sob your heart out. It’s not pretty or comfortable, but it’s necessary to process your feelings and move on with it all.

It’s been a good while since your last cry, but today- today was the final straw. The final snap. Some days are just truly too awful to even think about. So awful that even when you’re crying your heart out, and you put the thoughts away, you still keep crying. It’s almost like your body doesn’t know what else to do.

You’d found this room several months ago. The TARDIS was huge, and exploring its true depths was a terrifying concept, but every so often you found yourself bored enough to travel a little further into the corridors and rooms.

It was quiet and cozy, with soft bean bags and a few cabinets of god only knows what lining the walls, but what really drew you in was the window. At the size of the entire back wall, it was a sight to behold, and you adored being able to sit down and see out at the supernovas, black holes, moons, planets and whatever else drifted by. It was gorgeous, and a source of comfort for you.

You hadn’t told the Doctor that you’d found the room, preferring for it to be a private thing. Not that you didn’t want him to know, just that- if you needed a moment alone, this is where you always found yourself.

But the problem was- you didn’t want to be alone now, and your sobs were wracking your body so harshly that you couldn’t even begin to contemplate getting up and going to find him. You were here, alone, looking out at the vast blackness of space. Not even the stars were twinkling all that bright tonight. It was as if they knew how much pain you were in… Or maybe you just couldn’t see past the wall of tears blurring your vision.

“I- I don’t know if you can hear me,” you sobbed, reaching out to brush your fingers against the wall. “But if- if you can- can you bring him here- please?” Your arms shook with the effort, and your throat felt thick and lumpy with the force of your breathing. You didn’t know if the TARDIS could hear you. If she was listening even if she could.

Your hand dropped off the wall, and you sunk lower into yourself, kneeling on the floor and pulling a stray cushion towards yourself. You just needed something to hold. Something to comfort yourself with until you could pull yourself together. But the pieces of yourself shattered over the floor were sharp, and you were afraid of cutting yourself with them when you tried to pick them up.

Each time your tears started to slow, another wave of emotions would bash themselves against you and release the flood all over again. Your sleeve was wet with snot and tears, but you didn’t have any tissues to use in the meantime. It felt like hours, and perhaps it was before you heard the telltale ‘shhck’ of the door opening behind you. You bit down on your lip, emotions trying to shove themselves back down out of habit.

“What’s all this then, eh?” A velvet-smooth voice asked, and suddenly he was kneeling down beside you. He didn’t force you to look at him or to respond. He just looked out at the stars through the glass. “You’re alright then, love, don’t you worry,” he whispered, shuffling just a touch closer.

You could feel the desire rolling off him to wrap you up in his arms. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he could certainly tell that it was something big. Your lip struggled between your teeth to stay there, and you finally risked a glance at him.

It was as if making eye contact with him was all it took to let go once again, a loud hiccuping sob escaping your throat as you threw yourself into his chest for comfort, seeking the comforting beat of his hearts, and the warmth that came with them.

The Doctor grunted with surprise but was instantly wrapping you up safely in his arms. He pulled you up towards his lap on your side so you could lay against him. He rubbed your arm comfortingly and pressed a litany of kisses to your forehead, but he didn’t shush you.

“Come on then, love,” he said quietly, squeezing you tight. “Let it out- go on, there you go- oh, my darling,” the Doctor pressed his cheek to your forehead, rocking you slightly back and forth. “That’s better, oh yes, I know.”

You could feel his suit jacket grow wet under your eye and readjusted your face so you were pressed onto a dry patch. You could feel how puffy your face was already, and you hadn’t even finished with your tears yet.

“I know it hurts, darling,” the Doctor cooed, adjusting one arm so he could play with your hair, scratching at the scalp just the way you like. You sniffled, an embarrassing snot bubble forming. The Doctor didn’t seem to be worried about it, though, and just continued to rock you in his arms. “You’re alright, I promise. I’m here, you know me- always around when you need me, aren’t I? Yeah.”

You nodded, reassuring yourself with his comforting words. He wasn’t going to leave you. He’d keep you safe. The Doctor would always keep you safe.

Slowly, the tears began to slow, the snot drying on your clothes. You wiped your nose and let your eyes close- irritated as they were from the salt of your tears.

“Do you want to talk about it, then?” The Doctor asked quietly some time after your tears had stopped and you both had sunk into silence watching the stars. You shook your head no, and the Doctor kissed your forehead as an acknowledgement.

“Talk to me?” You asked, voice thick and crackly with abuse. The Doctor hummed, thinking of something to say. You’d never known him to need to think before he opened his mouth. Always ready to talk about something, your Doctor was.

“See that moon? Past that asteroid belt, yep,” the Doctor said after another minute of contemplation. He was pointing towards a green-tinted moon over on the left-hand side of the window. It was pretty, you thought. No matter how many moons and planets you saw, you’d thought they were all gorgeous. It was one of the things the Doctor adored most about you.

“I’ve been there. Had a nasty outbreak of Cybermen in, oh-” the Doctor checked his watch. “About fifteen thousand years. Gorgeous place, nice little outpost for a quick pit stop. I’m still not sure what they wanted there, actually.”

You settled into his arms, watching the moon in the distance.

“Met a nice android there. Not a huge fan of androids, me, but he was nice enough. We managed to fight them off and get rid of them before too many people were ‘upgraded’,” the Doctor grimaced at the terminology.

“How did they get there?” You asked, feeling your eyelids start to droop just a little.

“Oh, same as always, worming themselves across the galaxy,” he sighed, leaning his chin on your forehead. “I know what you’re thinking- ‘Doctor, how did you know they were there?’ Ah, well, good question.”

Your eyes drooped a little more and you startled yourself awake, trying to listen to the story. The Doctor’s fingers rubbed soothing circles on your arm.

“See, it all started how it usually starts. I was hungry, looking for a quick spot to stuff my face when I got a distress signal on my psychic paper. It’s always when I’m hungry, I’ve noticed. Very odd… Anyway, where was I? Oh yes-”

And so the Doctor started to tell you all about his adventure, and the Cybermen and how he triumphed over them once again. You realised right before you fell into a comforting sleep that he’d stopped talking, but you were too close to the edge to ask why.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered as you let sleep take you under. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

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brandycranby · 4 months

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ce characters + their skill at wrapping presents (based on technique, style, and enthusiasm) 🎁✨

crocheting a last minute gift rn hehe

steve: 9.5/10. the military precision comes in clutch when it's time to measure out wrapping paper. if he's not doing the wrapping himself, he's at your elbow with tape strips and scissors when you need them. gift bags? hell no, back in his day, presents were wrapped (ok old man 🙄💕) heh expect steve to come home with half a dozen new tubes of gift wrap because he just can't resist the cuteness (target snoopy paper, beloved 🥺💕)

andy: 7/10. if he did it himself that is 😌 this is a man of experience and few close relatives. the holidays are a quiet uneventful time for him (besides the odd party) and he spends it with you, showering you in gifts and treats for the new year. most of those treats come with complimentary gift wrapping that he'll most definitely take advantage of hehe if not, he's a sparkly gift bag kinda guy

ari: 8/10. he doesn't have much skill at getting those sharp corners on a wrapped box but can he curl a ribbon or what? great color sense, he doesn't look like it but he can tell a french silver from classic silver 😌💕 whatta man whatta man. eight presents though, that's a lot of gift ideas to come up with. defaults to cash and gift cards for some nights, slaps a ribbon on top and adds mesh bag of chocolate coins and calls it a night

johnny: 6/10. look, he's a guy. still, he's a guy with a big sister. sue comes over and they make a night in of it. wrapping paper is everywhere, someone gets hit with a tube, nothing's lit on fire but reed's gift is singed and labeled "to: asshole". it's probably just fruit of the loom boxers. your gift though? he keeps adding stocking stuffers until sue makes him use a wicker basket to hold everything bc "it's chic, johnny, and a paper bag can't hold all of that."

ransom: 5/10 +3 effort points. ONCE HE TRIES?? HE TRIES!!! i mean not for his parents' gifts, he probably amazon shipped those to their house. but he'll pull out the ribbons, the glitter, the tinsel, the special wrapping paper just for you 🥹💕 ransom doesn't really Get It, not until you have a day of present prep with him. cups of hot drinks and a movie on in the back, that sort of warm nostalgia that's so familiar yet distant from what he's known 🥺surprisingly good eye for it

jake: 4/10. oh lord he tries. he tries so damn hard. the living room is a wreck, there's tape everywhere and mismatched wrapping paper. he measures a length of paper too small and worries about cutting another one because you like that paper!! you'd probably cry if he wasted it!! so he takes a discard piece and kinda... band-aids it together... oh baby 😔 also how do you wrap plushies??? (put it in a box, jake, please put it in a box)

curtis: 7/10. solid score because he goes for maximum efficiency and doesn't take a break until every single present is completely hidden in gift wrap, tissue paper, ribbons, bows, and a gift tag. would be a 10 if he was a little more fancy and a little less practical about his present style. but he has the assembly line efficiency and it helps you get everything done in one day so kudos 😊 points off for getting suspicious when you take a long pee break tho

---

since i've started writing this hc list, i've redone my amigurumi THREE TIMES. why do i do this to myself. i also wrapped last minute gifts like a jake today heh

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sphireath-wisp · 8 months

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please do sae and kaiser next for You and Me - Always Forever i love it sm!!! 💗💗

#You and Me - Always Forever

Sypnosis: What was one of the moments that made them decide they wanted to marry you and vice versa?

Warnings: Might fall in love with the reader, no actual proposals (just the moments that spark the thought, that feeling that you'd want to spend a lifetime with that person), not proofread, messy interchanging grammar

Notes: SOMEONE HAS ANSWERED MY PRAYERS I FINALLY GOT A REQUEST, ILYSM ANON TYSM 💪💪💪

Featuring: Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser x GN! Reader

Sae Itoshi - What made him want to marry you?

"One ice cream for the newlyweds!" The ice cream uncle ecstatically exclaims, a smile beaming on his face. He passes you the ice cream and swipes the money from Sae's hands - he would have usually done the uncle a favor by passing the money directly, but his assumption about the both of you made him malfunction for a moment.

Sae exchanged quick glances with you - any longer and you would have noticed a hint of red creeping up his cheeks. "We're not newlyweds," Sae speaks before stuffing spare change in his wallet.

"Oh?" The uncle's eyes widen, "You both looked on the younger side. How long have you both been married?"

"Aha, no, we're not married." You blurt out, the already-dopey smile on your face growing even wider as you feel Sae's pinky finger link with yours. "We're not engaged either." You add on, just in case.

"Really? I'm sorry for making assumptions then," the uncle nods as you insist it's okay, he did give you and Sae quite a euphoric moment to remember - a small moment etched into both of your memories.

As you laugh about the whole situation after waving the uncle goodbye, you notice Sae seems to be... absorbed in his thoughts, hands still tucked in his pockets and silent as ever - he didn't even taste the ice cream you both agreed to share, he was so excited to show you his favorite ice cream truck that he almost annually visited every week as a child.

"Sae?" You nudge him lightly after scooping up a portion of the ice cream with a small spoon. "Come on, eat some ice cream, or else it'll melt."

Sae blinks and snaps out of his dazed trance, eyes on the ice cream before looking at you - gaze melting ever so slightly. "You can have all of it. I had a lot of it as a kid."

"But, didn't you say it's your favorite flavor? Plus, we agreed to share or else I'll be too full for lunch." He still seems to be out of it as his eyes linger on you for longer than usual. His mind was still stuck on the interaction between you, him, and the ice cream uncle.

Did you both look like a couple that much? Did the both of you really act like a married couple? The thought that both you and Sae were just dating never even crossed the uncle's mind. The look on his face when you told him that you weren't married to Sae... was it really that surprising?

Sae's eyes narrow slightly at you after you take another bite. Taking the complimentary tissues the uncle passed you, one hand lifts your chin up, the other hand using the tissue to wipe the corner of your mouth gently. He didn't laugh or make fun of you, the gears in his body turning to help you without any judgment.

Sae pauses, taking a mental note of his actions. His eyes locked with you once more before shifting back... perhaps the both of you did resemble a married couple a bit. "...What were you saying?"

"...Nothing." You glance away, swarms of butterflies invading your stomach.

After that, even when you both returned to your shared apartment, he began realizing just how automatic and in tune the both of you were together. Every morning, you always prepared that extra cup of coffee for him. He'd always warn you of hot surfaces beforehand. You'd always prepare the bath before he reached home and he always reminded you to water the plants outside.

Sae was logical, calculative, and always thought before he acted. He had no reason to marry you (if he ignored how hopelessly in love he was with you, but he wouldn't accept that as a legitimate reason.). However, at the very same time, he didn't have any reason to not marry you (which he used to convince himself that everything he was doing was planned and completely logical.)

The more he considered it, the more he thought about his life with you. He loved waking up with you next to him every morning. He loved how adaptable you were, waiting in bed for him for his nap so he wouldn't have to drag you into bed with him. He couldn't see himself in a future without you. He had someone to lose.

So, he'll hold you close and never let you go, forever.

You - What made you want to marry him?

Sae was always someone that sensed more than he spoke.

His eyes are constantly at work, observing your every reaction, greedily stealing glances from you because he could never get tired of looking at you despite living in the same apartment. The smell of your perfume/cologne comforts him to unbelievable lengths, it calms him down. And occasionally, he wouldn't mind a bit of physical touch if it's with you. Give him that sweet smile and his barriers are broken down in an instant; maybe his lips will work their magic on you if he has the time (Sae always says he does).

But, of course, we're left with the last of the 5 senses - hearing. If there was one thing he loved doing, he absolutely adored hearing your voice. He's always the first to notice when you have a sore throat or when you're sick because of your voice, he's so sharp that even slight changes in your tone don't go unnoticed.

Sae would always insist that you call him, but since he rarely had the time overseas, you would resort to voice messages instead. Long voice messages about you rambling to him about your day, about the stone you accidentally tripped over, about that new Cafe that just opened up and smelt just like him during slow mornings - freshly brewed coffee.

Even after he was back from his overseas trip, he still continued to (indirectly) ask you to send him voice messages. It was a bit... strange to you. You didn't mind honestly, but it did pique your curiosity.

"Why do you want me to send you voice messages when we can just talk like this?" The question pops up in your head and you blurt it out without a second thought, adjusting yourself in the passenger seat of Sae's car to get comfortable. "You're back from your overseas trip, we could always talk in person."

Sae doesn't respond and you notice his lips part slightly before he purses them back - little changes in his body language that you've learned to take note of. He was hesitant to respond.

He was aware of how aloof he could be, painfully aware. Even in times like now, he was still trying to frame his words in a way that wasn't too blunt.

"Once..." Sae parked the car first before finally speaking. "You told me you felt like I wasn't listening to you and you got sad. You stopped rambling and talking to me as much as you used to." Sae lets go of the steering wheel, body twisting to the side to face you fully, demonstrating to you just how much he meant every word.

"You always told me you didn't like one-way conversations... but I like your voice." Sae openly admits - something he's sure he would've regretted in the past, but he knows you wouldn't judge. You nodded as he spoke, eyes locked with his as you felt heat creep to your cheeks and up the tip of your ears - he really was listening.

"For the first time in a while, I heard you ramble in your voice messages. It was... nice to hear you talk for so long and you sounded so happy." Your eyes capture the heartwarming image of him glancing away to hide the pink dusted on his cheeks, a smile tugging on his lips. At that point, you couldn't stop smiling, words like this would make anyone fall in love. "I just wanted to hear you ramble like that more."

His hands land on the back of his neck, scratching it lightly whilst waiting for your response.

It was weirdly innocent and pure for someone like Sae, even you couldn't hold back your giggles after hearing his reasoning. Sae grip on your hand tightens as you laugh. Damn it, did you have to be that charming?

"Sae," Your voice lowers and he feels shivers crawl down his spine at the way you hum his name. You've immediately stolen all of his focus with one word, you really are remarkable. "It feels uncomfortable because sometimes you never reply. When I talk, I wanna feel like I'm being heard, you know?"

Sae nodded.

"A simple 'uhuh' or asking questions makes me feel like I'm being listened to." You gently stroke his knuckles with your thumb and his gaze alternates between you and your hand interlocked with his. "Plus, hearing my voice like this, in real life, sounds much better, right?"

"Mmhm, you're right... Could you continue about that cat you saw at the pet shop?" He was always a fast learner.

Michael Kaiser - What made him want to marry you?

"How are you feeling?" You almost flinch when you press your hand against Kaiser's forehead, his rising temperature alarming you. You tilt your head to the side, allowing him to bury his face comfortably into the crook of your neck. "Not so good, meine liebe." Kaiser grumbles, voice hoarse.

You feel heat radiate from his body and arms wrap around your waist, leaving not even a centimeter of breathing room between you and him. Usually, if he was in a better condition, he'd be teasing you in soft whispers or planting delicate kisses against your skin, smirking at your reaction.

Hot breaths against your neck give rise to even more concern and you quickly guide him back to bed - the place where he gathered so much of his energy together to escape from so he could be with you despite his worsening fever. "No crawling out of bed and no rebutting that." You order, lowering his head down on the pillow and spotting the sweat trickling down his face. Strands of hair cling to the back of his neck, breathing heavy and erratic.

"You're so cruel to me, der Liebling." Kaiser groans softly, chuckling in spite of his unfortunate situation. You feel your cheek flush slightly at the way he calls you, though he doesn't sound as pleasant to the ears with his sore throat. "I'll be nice if you listen, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." Kaiser's gaze melts and you almost feel yourself melting along. The effect this man had on you was crazy.

You sigh and stand up, "I'll go make you some food. Eating more is important especially when you're sick." Kaiser's fingers inch towards you just as you're about to leave, but he lacks the energy to stop you entirely.

It was... nice to see your nurturing side towards him. How you gently creak the door open and innocently peek your head in, muttering his name in case he was awake. How you'll always catch him when he pretends he's asleep - he just likes feeling you pat his head and run your fingers through his hair to soothe him to sleep. The way you always rush to his room when he calls out your name, you purposefully don't listen to music when he's sick so you can always hear his voice.

You insisted on doing the chores for the week and - no matter how much Kaiser tried to get up and help, you were just as stubborn as him and refused any assistance. He feels exhausted, but he'll ignore that exhaustion if it means he can help you even in this situation - it's out of character for him to be so selfless.

"Kaiser... can you sit up and eat?" You highly doubted he could, especially when all he could do was return you with a weak nod instead of a verbal response. "Okay, I'll lead you outside, but please tell me if you need to go back to bed."

Kaiser wraps his arm around your shoulder, trying to wobble back onto his own two feet. Usually, you would be spoonfeeding him chicken soup or something warm by the bed, but the table bedside didn't have enough space to fit all of the food you prepared.

Weary eyes glance at the whole feast on the table and you help him sit down before sitting down next to him. "Recognize any of the dishes?"

"...are these all German dishes?" He instantly recognizes them from the smell alone. "Mmhm! I got a little carried away with how much I prepared, but I hope they make you feel a little more at home, or at least better." He could practically burst into tears right now, gaze switching between you and the food you spent the whole morning and afternoon preparing.

You pick up a spoon and grab a bite-sized portion of the food in front of you, cupping his cheeks as you ask him say 'aahh'. He obeys, opening his mouth before being fed the food. "How is it?" You inquire, scooping up another bite.

"It tastes like an amateur made it." You almost drop your spoon and your chin dips. It felt like you just received a kick to the stomach and you chuckle. You both sit in silence for a moment and you begin to reconsider whether his initial comment was sarcasm or not.

"But," Kaiser's hand rests on your thigh, thumb lightly caressing your skin - he's always been a bit of a romantic. "It's one of the best dishes I've ever had, der Liebling."

You - What made you want to marry him?

Kaiser was always a risk-taker. His charms never failed him when it came to others and his skills always proved him superior in soccer, so of course you assumed it was the same thing when it came to you. You were sure you were just another victim of his charms and he happened to fall in love so hard that he stuck with you until now.

Though, that all changed when you began reminiscing about your younger years with him.

"Do you remember when we had our first kiss?" The words slip out of your mouth suddenly as you stare out of the window of your shared apartment with Kaiser, entranced by the ocean of stars glittering like jewels in the midnight sky.

Kaiser steals a glance at you and you don't stare back - good, he didn't want you to tease him about the (most likely) obvious blush on his cheeks. "Yeah," he mumbles out loud before your head swerves to look in his direction.

Simultaneously, both of your lips part.

"It was horrible."

"It was amazing."

You blink at Kaiser, lips pursing to hold back your giggles in vain. "You thought it was amazing?"

Kaiser fidgets with the pen in his hand, scoffing. "Yeah, why do you think it was horrible? I invited you out to a nice restaurant, we walked home together and I kissed you goodnight - sounds like it came out of a movie, what's wrong?" His eyebrows furrow as the memories of him being laughably nervous that evening suddenly flood his mind.

"I was a terrible kisser back then." You admit, a tinge of embarrassment laced into your words. You look away, back at the stars. "You broke this kiss so early, I screamed into my pillow all night."

Kaiser rests his cheek on his knuckles, elbow resting against the table and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly. He uses the pen to guide your chin, making you face him. "You weren't terrible, Meine Liebe."

Your fingers gently hold the pen, rolling your eyes with a dopey smile. "Don't use your flattery and charms against me. You always got me all flustered in the past."

"I'm being honest, really. From my very clear memory, you weren't as bad as you described." He's beginning to ramble. "In fact, you were the one who unintentionally made me flustered."

"Oh?" Kaiser pauses as you interrupt him, mind processing what he had just told you. "Like? Give me a few examples."

Oh fuck.

"Was it when I gave you a hug all of a sudden when you won the first match you invited me to?" Oh god, all of the memories are really coming back to him. He wanted to impress you so bad and actually considered that he might lose.

You inch closer, grinning from ear to ear. He had always known you looked good up close but wow.

"Was it when we accidentally bumped shoulders and you couldn't look me in the eye? I thought you felt bad for spilling my drink, but were you actually nervous around me?" You have no idea how many times he's actually stared at you from afar, sweaty hands stuffed into his pockets as he spoke to you.

Did the temperature suddenly rise? Why is he sweating so much?

"So... you broke that kiss with me so early because you were shy?" You hit the nail right on the coffin, watching him melt right before your eyes and glance away. Oh, how the tables had turned.

"Wow, I never knew." You hum in satisfaction, leaning back to give him a little more breathing space. "You fell for me hard, didn't you?"

Kaiser's dead silent, his heart pounding in his chest. He wished his heartbeat was loud enough to block out the sound of your voice, maybe then he would have time to recover and retort. "Meine Liebe, please..."

You place your hand on his, eyes glued back onto the stars as an amused chuckle escapes you. "I like this side of you. I like all sides of you." You heard the leaves rustling outside in a minute of short, sweet silence.

"I love you, Kaiser." You announce, almost too proudly. Kaiser sighs, still unable to lock eye contact with you. "...I love you too."

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izvmimi · 12 days

Text

cw: reader and tanjiro are engaged. tanjiro gets roped into an unfamiliar marriage custom. fluff. fem!reader.

When Tanjiro said he was willing to do anything for you, this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

The cloth Genya decided to tie around his nose is a little too tight for his liking, and it doesn’t help that in addition to that, his nostrils are stopped up with more additional scraps of cotton than he’d like. The intention is to block his sense of smell which he understands is practically cheating, but it's disorienting feeling like he can’t breathe through anything but his mouth, and the tissue is shoved up so far he can practically feel it tickling his brain.

But he can endure it. For you.

Tanjiro sucks in lungfuls of air through his mouth, then slowly breathes out before deciding to reset his thoughts with a smile. Genya looks directly in his face, then smirks, while Zenitsu, despite his blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion, takes the time to adjust Tanjiro’s hair tousled slightly out of place by Genya’s ‘aggressive’ helping, then shakes his head.

“This is a weird ritual,” he finally admits.

Inosuke, who’s found a place on to lay comfortably and lazily on the tatami despite all the other young men in some sort of reasonable sitting position, laughs loudly.

“That’s what I said!” he yells, forgetting all about an indoor voice. He shoots up like a board, then points directly at Tanjiro, who has risen by now, trying to shake off his sudden nerves. “She already agreed to marry you, so what’s the point of all this, Gonpachiro!!!! Just take her and run before she changes her mind!”

Tanjiro takes another breath, forgetting his voice is nasal now, then huffs.

“She said it’d make her feel more at home, so I might as well.”

Genya rolls his eyes, but knows he’d do the same. Giyuu and Sanemi, older than the rest of the men in the room and as such, less naturally rowdy, exchange a look.

“So what’s the punishment if you can’t pick her out in a line-up?” Giyuu asks. “The engagement is over?”

Tanjiro pales quickly at the thought, then shakes his head.

“According to the custom, I just have to pay a fine to her parents.”

Zenitsu shakes his head while Inosuke bursts out laughing. “Like hell I would-” Inosuke starts, but Zenitsu slaps his hand over his mouth.

“She doesn’t have parents here,” Giyuu reminds him, the look in his cool blue eyes less inquisitive than it is expositional. Tanjiro nods.

“Lame if there aren’t any stakes,” Genya points out, picking lint off of his jacket. “Other than looking like a dumbass, I guess.”

Sanemi gives him a glance, then grins before looking back at Tanjiro.

“How about I beat you to death if you mess up?”

His eyes gleam wildly at the opportunity while Tanjiro purses his lips to the side, ignoring Genya who at the same time offer to help his older brother.

“Are you going to let go of any opportunity to injure me?”

Sanemi runs his hands through his white hair, still smirking to himself as he immediately replies, “absolutely not.”

Tanjiro sighs, but his attention is turned when his younger sister finds her way to the entrance where the young men sit and wait prior to the ceremony. Nezuko is radiant as usual, her raven hair pulled back into a neat bun and her dark pink eyes practically luminescent. Tanjiro can already feel Zenitsu’s awed stare at her, but these days he’s quieter about how much he desires her out of a mature fondness now that he too is marriageable age. Nezuko smiles as she looks upon the men in the room, and more so as she appraises how nice her brother looks.

The haori he wears today is nothing like his simple checkered one, dark green and laced with swirls of gold, complimentary to the burgundy tones of his hair, and despite his face being wrapped up in a makeshift mask to prevent him from sniffing out his bride, he remains handsome as usual. She adjusts the haori himo, slipping a couple of wisteria flowers within the string to accent the knot.

It’s not his wedding day yet, but he will still look wonderful.

“Are you all ready?” Nezuko asks. She smiles to herself as Tanjiro nods quickly and is the first to follow her out in the courtyard, the rest of the young men filing out behind her. Nezuko stands in pace with her brother, and squeezes his hand gently as they make their way to the decorated clearing where the ceremony will take place.

“You won’t mess up. You’ll know Neechan immediately,” she reassures him.

He’d tell Nezuko that it’s too early for her to call you that, but in some ways, she probably knew that you and her would become family even before he did.

Instead, Tanjiro smiles warmly at her, letting his fingers and hers exchange places to squeeze hers instead. You and Nezuko’s hands are different, naturally, but the warmth is similar because your hearts are similarly kind by nature. It’s comforting; despite from being thousands of miles away, separated for greater than a century, you remind him of home.

—

Your heart races, shrouded in the light weight of a woven silk sheet.

You’re not the only woman in this kneeling position; in fact, you are just one of six women arranged in a six-point star-shape in a small clearing beneath the bloom of plum blossom petals. Mitsuri, Kanao, your two best friends, and even Shinobu were willing to play along with you, dressed up in the same kimono, their heads and shoulders covered, and hands obscured in long sleeves set before themselves as they wait for the men to arrive. Everyone is quiet and perfectly still, although you know Mitsuri is trying her hardest to hold in her giggles, and Shinobu might get up and leave to go do something much more useful with her time any minute, and you wonder what the outcome will be of all this.

You’re not exactly sure why you roped him into this or why Tanjiro even agreed to your nonsense, but there’s something you need to prove. Something about fate, something about an attraction that transcends an enamored gaze or a heightened sense of smell or touch. Something that proves to you that the draw between you, the metaphorical thread that has linked you across time and space is not something you’ve imagined.

Or perhaps you just find it romantic that he’d know you anywhere.

But what if he doesn’t?

Hinatsuru did your makeup differently from the rest - an extra layer of gold dusted on your eyes, a deeper red on your lips. Wisteria is woven into your hair unlike the rest, and on your hands a red string is woven between your two pinky fingers. If he chooses you, you’ll untie one end and link it to his. An additional promise to love him forever.

You’ve already said yes, you’ve already said yes.

Makio continues to play the koto as you take deep breaths and you can hear Tengen and Rengoku laughing loudly with the rest of the growing crowd, Suma telling her giggling toddler to stay still, soft, awkward footsteps following giggles. Gyomei is probably praying and if Obanai could figure out which one of the shrouded women is you, he’d probably have you strung up on the highest mountain peak for dragging his wife into this.

Now you can hear the men approaching, Inosuke and Zenitsu’s bickering the loudest, but you can sense that Tanjiro is near even if he’s quiet and moves stealthily. Perhaps it’s your love for him, perhaps it’s his presence that you can’t ignore, or perhaps it’s the fact that he shines so bright you can feel the warmth of his soul any time he’s near.

You remain perfectly still as Makio’s koto playing comes to a halt. Nezuko sings and passes between the six of you, a chill running through your spine as she taps each of your shoulders. You remain silent.

You can’t see Tanjiro set his eyes immediately on you, because if you did, your heart would be tranquil. Instead you keep yourself from shaking, the blood pumping through your veins quickly, your ears warming.

Even if he can’t pick you out in disguise, he still chose you. He wants you. You will spend the rest of your lives together, no matter what.

“Thank you for sharing your custom, ___.”

Gyomei offers a short speech to explain what will be happening in the gathering, although the guests do know, enough so that even Urokodaki, who acts as a surrogate parent to the surviving Kamados is invited, and will be watching Tanjiro make his decision.

You think of the embarrassment if he ended up picking Kanao, despite the fact that it means nothing in the grand scheme of things, then think of the sheer pandemonium if Tanjiro were to unveil Mitsuri and almost break your cover.

Focus.

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Tanjiro. Sniff her out! Oh right, you can’t!”

Inosuke’s heckles get a laugh from the crowd for once.

“Choose fucking wisely,” you hear Sanemi say, followed by the crack of his knuckles. The menacing tone to his voice also threatens to floor you in laughter, and you wonder if your friend will hold back her demand for him to be nice or blow her own cover.

“Enough harrassment,” Tanjiro finally defends himself. You can’t hear him move, but you somehow, can see someone, probably him moving in the faint shadows of your shroud.

Don’t be wrong, you tell yourself, then you quickly remind yourself, he wouldn’t be.

You’re meant to be.

“Hey.”

You hold your breath as Tanjiro settles on his knees before you, his hands closing around the edges of your shroud, and flipping the cloth up - quickly, confidently, almost defiantly.

Eye to eye, you watch him smile as he cups your face, rough hands so gentle, so loving on your warming cheeks. The koto slows to a stop again.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, love practically dripping off his lips.

“You found me so quickly,” you whisper back, as your eyes mist. The onlookers watch as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Of course I did, I’d never lose sight of you even for a moment.”

And just like that, Hinatsuru’s hard work on your face is laid to waste; the koto plays again, heartily, your makeshift clones toss their veils and the crowd erupts in happy cheers.

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #daydreams: kny #tanjimimi #mimi's notes

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verysium · 2 months

Note

blue lock boys as assassins (au i guess?), i hope you could include Oli, Yuki and Barou!

anon you have me at crossroads because the very idea of an assassin AU spawns an infinite glitch of possibilities....🤔 like mafia underground syndicate assassin? or like solitary mysterious hitman type of assassin? or even better could this be ninja/shinobi stealth warrior assassin? i'm going give a general description though:

oliver is the laid-back good guy. escorts you to the bar, drinks on him. claps every passerby on the back as if he personally knows them. you think he's alright. not too handsome and just the right amount of ruggedness. he offers you a good time, so you two hit off for the night. and that's where everything starts to go downhill. one shoot-out, intense knife fight, and grueling police chase later, you pant for dear life against the side of a brick wall in some torn up alley because it turns out your one-night stand was actually an assassin for japan's largest underground syndicate.

you grip your broken heel tightly in one hand, body collapsed against the brick cornerstone as you seethe, the condensation of your gasping breath forming tendrils in the cold night. you reach up a hand to wipe the sweat off your face. it comes back red, the meticulous hours of applying your makeup wasted when you see the damning smears of lipstick. this was not the type of fun you signed up for on a friday night.

"oliver, what the fuck was that?"

he laughs sheepishly, cocking his gun back with ease before he lights up a cigarette, palm cupping the flame. he turns, then walks over two bodies without blinking, suede shoes clicking against the cobblestone. you're angry at him, but he doesn't care, wrapping an arm around your waist, nose buried in your hair.

"just a side hustle, sweetheart. come on, let's get you home."

yukimiya is the sweet, unassuming literature student. he came home from university to help his grandmother out over the summer, manning the front counter of her antique oddities shop. you like him. he's awkwardly charming, a little too zealous for the job, but still endearingly kooky. you have him pinned down as the sad poet type. the kind of person who wears the same knitted cardigan every day, complete with horn-rimmed glasses and 1940's gingham elbow patches. he can handwrite a sonnet in less than a minute, gift-wrap your purchases in record time. you let him buzz around you while you make your daily visit to his shop, listening to him talk about the collections of radioactive glassware, the vintage phonograph in the corner, and the rare edition of Gutenberg bibles sitting silently in the old book section.

"you know, you really don't have to do that."

he peers up at you owlishly, dark brow furrowed before you point out the spool of twine in his hand, the way he's carefully folding the newspaper around the edges of the new vase you purchased. he laughs, shrugging off your concerns with a wave. you catch a brief whiff of his cologne, the subtle scent of mint and toluene. maybe a hint of vanillin too.

"don't worry about it miss! gift-wrapping is a free service. i'll even add two complimentary trinkets if you'd like. we have a clearance section that's been slow to sell. you could even take a few for free."

"i'm alright. thanks for the offer though." he nods, fingers delicately tying a bow before he places your vase in a bag, fluffing up the tissue paper on top. you smile to yourself when you see the intricate lettering of the card he snuck in. must've been another one of the love poems he wrote. you know how the saying goes.

roses are red. violets are blue.

by the time you step out the shop, the door chime twinkles in the distance, a peal of bells to signal your departure. from behind the windows and glass paneling, he watches your figure trail down the sidewalk, winter coat fluttering in the wind. his eyes darken beneath the tortoiseshell frame, finger moving down the yellowed pages of his accounting book before crossing off another name. he doesn't even look up when he hears the loud honking and screams, the sound of a body hitting the pavement.

one is dead, and so are you.

barou is probably the most obvious one. very upfront about the work he does. the only caveat is that you can never trace his work back to him. he cleans up way too well. always shoots his targets through the eye because it's less of a mess that way. leaves absolutely no evidence at the murder scene. i picture you as one of the unfortunate victims caught up in the fray. collateral damage, as he likes to call it.

"you know, i've never met someone so equally stubborn and stupid."

you glare at him, throat sore and aching as you scream through your gag, cursing him out in every language in existence. he merely stares down at you, arms crossed and eyebrow arched in amusement. you struggle for a good minute, flopping around like a fish as you try to free yourself from your bonds. how the hell do you go from taking an errand trip to the grocery store to getting kidnapped and tied up in a man's trunk?

"what's that? couldn't hear you from all the noise."

god, you want to strangle him. you heave a breath, swallowing the bitter taste of your own spit when he finally unties the gag, your lungs gasping for air.

"i said...you think i'm the stupid one? you're the one who tied me up!"

"because you wouldn't stop squealing like a pig."

"you were trying to kill me!" he snorts derisively at your comment, his red eyes piercing and haughty. the loud thump of the trunk door closing reverberates throughout the parking garage before you find yourself face first on the pavement, body dumped unceremoniously on the ground. he looks down at you dismissively, wiping the dust off his hands.

"nah, i'd save myself the hassle."

your eyebrow twitches in irritation, jaw dropping at that violation. oh, it was personal now. he deserved capital punishment. strangling would be too merciful. you try to get back on your feet, a task that proves all the more difficult with your legs bound and arms twisted behind your back. he merely waits, as if knowing when you'd finally give up, sinking at his feet in defeat.

"you done?" you nod your head, slumping down into the concrete. your voice becomes small and sheepish by the time you raise your face to look at him.

"can't you just...let me go? i promise i won't say anything." he rolls his eyes, swinging you over his shoulder in one fell swoop, locking the car with a resounding beep. you start to panic when you feel him carrying you to the garage exit, vision swirling with nothing but concrete and the solid sound of his combat boots.

"wait....wait! i swear to god! please just let me go. i won't tell a soul."

"nope. can't have any witnesses." you feel a handkerchief come up at engulf your nose and mouth, the sweet smell cloying and sharp. you start to squirm in his arms.

"wait! no...please! if you touch me again, i'll scream." his grin is the last thing you see in the darkness, sharp canines brushing against the shell of your ear.

"oh, you'll do so much more than scream, darling."

#asks #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku x you #aiku x reader #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya x reader #bllk yukimiya #barou shouei #barou x reader #bllk barou #barou shoei x reader

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blackopals-world · 1 year

Note

Hi is it okay to ask for more Onsen yuuxtwist boys if not go ahead and ignore this but if it's okay can I request Jamil viper please

Sure I have no problem.

Vil, Azul

Deep Tissue

Onsen!FemYuu x Jamil Viper

"You have practice today right?" Yuu asked walking behind Jamil.

Their class had ended early for a prep rally that neither of them had any intention of going to.

Yuu would usually return to the Onsen to prepare for costumers.

"Uh, yeah. Why else would I be heading to the gym?" Jamil said blankly.

He held back a sigh. This girl was always so nosy. Jamil slung his bag around his shoulder an winced. It still sore from practice a few days ago but they needed to work hard. How else are they going to beat RSA?

"In that condition!?You've been rubbing your shoulder all class. You're in pain." Yuu said shocked before whispering in a hushed tone.

"I think you should get it checked out." Yuu continued.

Jamil didn't answer and kept walking, he had been ignoring this problem for a while now but that was getting harder as the pain increased. He saw no need to talk about it with Yuu, whom had been persistent in trying to get him to go see the nurse.

Yuu trudged dutifully behind Jamil, her steps heavy with the knowledge of his stubbornness and the need for him to get his shoulder checked out. She looked up at him, her doe eyes blazing like torches, pleading with every fiber of her being that he would hear her silent plea. "Please," she begged in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper, hoping against hope that some part of him could feel the desperation radiating from her.

Jamil halted in his tracks, leaning forward on his knees and panting heavily. A growl escaped his lips as he took a moment to reply. "Fine," he whispered, glaring at the ground under his feet. It wasn't that he didn't want to go; it was simply that he refused to show himself as weak by asking for help.

Yuu smiled and grabbed his arm, leading him back towards the school. They both walked in silence, until Jamil finally let out a small groan of pain as they entered the nurse's office.

The nurse examined Jamil's shoulder with a gentle but sure touch. She uncovered the source of his pain; a strained muscle that was caused by overworking himself on the court during practice. He had to rest it properly or risk further injury if he continued to play, she warned him sternly.

Jamil nodded in agreement as he thanked Yuu for her persistent nagging and encouraging him to get help. She smiled, happy that her friend was okay and can now focus on healing his shoulder properly before getting back into games again.

He was still upset about missing practice especially since it was the one time of day he was away from Kalim.

Jamil stood silhouetted against the window, a beam of light illuminating his tall frame and long dark hair. His fingertips trembled as he pushed aside a stray strand of hair that had fallen over his eye. He took a deep breath before turning to face his friend, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've won. Now what?"

"Allow me to be of assistance. The Onsen provides massages that can alleviate stress and enhance blood flow throughout the body. Let me take care of you. It would be my pleasure to give you one, complimentary, of course. We cannot have our cherished Vice Warden injured." Yuu's lips curled into a soft smile.

Jamil looked at Yuu skeptically. She was an amazing masseuse, however, he was hesitant to leave Kalim alone to his own devices. He wasn't sure if it was the commitment of missing practice or her offer that made him so worried but either way he knew he couldn't take the easy route out. He had to make sure the dorm leader was safe and taken care of while he was away.

"I appreciate your offer," Jamil began slowly, "But I can't leave Kalim on his own. How about I go get him and I'll join you after I tell couch Vargas what's going on."

Jamil's agreement sent shockwaves through Yuu. It was as if the world had shifted and he was a completely different person from the one she thought she knew. She felt a pang of disappointment, almost spite for his acceptance. What could have persuaded him to agree? Had he deliberately omitted Kalim from 'Onsen' trips; an outing that many other students seemed to love? His pragmatism must have come at her expense.

Yuu nodded in understanding, she understood how important it was for friends to look out for each other and she respected Jamil's decision even if she didn't quite agree with it. "That sounds great! Let me know when you're ready and I'll be here." She said before returning back down the hall towards her waiting customers at the Onsen.

Jamil watched Yuu walk away and for the first time he noticed how her curves swayed as she walked. He shook his head in disbelief, why did he have to like her? He had been fighting this feeling for months now but with Yuu's kind and caring demeanor it was becoming harder to hide or ignore it.

Jamil quickly turned on his heel and hurried off back to the dormitory to get Kalim. He had no time to think about what was really going on inside of him right now, he knew that when they returned back to the Onsen Yuu would still be there waiting patiently, ready to provide relief from his sore shoulder.

When they arrived at the Onsen, Yuu had already set out everything she needed for Jamil's massage. She welcomed them to the hot springs, guiding them through the steamy baths while describing each one and their benefits.

Yuu had one of the attendants take Kalim to a neighboring room for his own massage. Kalim winked mischievously at Jamil before happily walking off with the assistant. He knew about Jamil's crush on the young manager.

Finally, she guided Jamil to a quiet corner of the room where she had set up a massage table and oils specifically catered towards Jamil's strain musculature injury.

Yuu smiled warmly as she explained the pressure points and techniques that would be used during the massage. She could see how relieved he was just about hearing her words; his confidence slightly restored by her help. She let him know that if he ever needs help again all he has to do is ask and she'll be sure to be there for him in any way she can.

Jamil removed his shirt and lay on the table, feeling the coziness of the towels beneath him and Yuu's careful touch as she began to massage his muscles. He noticed that Yuu had a slender build with toned muscles from her regular exercise. Her skin was as soft and smooth as a river stone, her features delicate, her eyes an inviting color. His body grew increasingly relaxed as she worked, his stress and anxieties slowly dissipating.

As she massaged him, he felt himself growing more and more relaxed, his mind drifting away from his troubles and worries.

But even as he drifted away, his thoughts kept returning to Yuu. He found himself imagining what it would be like to kiss her, to feel her body close to his. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself.

Yuu noticed that Jamil had become quiet and still, and she wondered if he was falling asleep. She continued to work on his muscles, her touch firm and steady, her movements smooth and precise.

But then she felt a sudden shift in Jamil's body, and she realized that he was no longer relaxed. His breathing had become ragged, and she could feel the tension building in his muscles.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

Jamil hesitated, unsure if he should tell her the truth. But then he decided to take the risk.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice faltering."I can't help but feel attracted to you. I know it's not appropriate, but I can't control my feelings."

She could take a step back, confused by his admission and not know how to respond. Yuu had never been in this situation before, she was used to customers coming in wanting a massage and nothing more. She didn't know what to say or do and the silence between them seemed unbearably long.

Finally she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," she said quietly. "But for now let's just focus on your massage. We can talk about this later when you're ready."

Jamil nodded, understanding that for now it would be best that way. He closed his eyes as Yuu began to work on his sore muscles again, feeling more relaxed than ever before.

But even as Yuu's hands moved expertly over his body, Jamil was still filled with shame and regret for telling her his feelings so suddenly. He wished he had done it more delicately, but he also knew that it would have made no difference. No matter how he had expressed himself, the result would have been the same- confusion and uncertainty about what would happen next.

Yuu sensed the change in Jamil's body and she could tell that he was no longer comfortable. She decided to end the massage session early so the two of them could talk about the situation in a more comfortable setting.

"Why don't we take a break," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Let's find a place where we can talk."

Jamil nodded, grateful for Yuu's understanding and compassion. He followed her out into one of the guest rooms, feeling both relieved and anxious at the same time.

Once they were seated, Jamil opened up and told Yuu how embarrassed he was for putting her in such an uncomfortable situation. He apologized profusely, explaining that he had never felt this way before and didn't know how to handle it.

Yuu listened patiently, understanding the difficulty of the situation. She reassured him that it was okay and encouraged him to try to take things one step at a time.

Jamil thanked her for her help and understanding, feeling his confidence slowly returning. In that moment he realized just how much she cared about him, and his admiration for her grew even deeper than before.

He thanked her once again for being so understanding, looking into her eyes with an expression of deep gratitude. He knew now that whatever happened between them, he could count on Yuu to be there for him when he needed it most.

Yuu felt a strange warmth in her heart as she looked into his eyes, and suddenly realized that she had been harboring romantic feelings for Jamil all this time. She had thought he disliked her or was uninterested in her, but now she knew that couldn't be further from the truth. She smiled at him, letting the knowledge of her love wash over them both.

Jamil returned her smile and took her hands in his own, intertwining their fingers. He leaned forward and kissed Yuu gently on the lips, feeling all of his love for her in that moment.

The two of them stayed like that for several moments, completely lost in each other's embrace. This was more than either of them had ever expected to find when they first met, yet here it was- undeniable and real.

Finally, Yuu pulled away and looked into Jamil's eyes.

"Let's take some time to get to know each other better," she said with a smile. "Let's go out to eat or maybe go to the movies."

Jamil grinned and nodded, feeling like he was on top of the world. He took her hand in his and they went out the door, ready to start their journey together.

#onsen!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #twisted wonderland jamil #jamil x yuu #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil #jamil x mc #jamil viper

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we-will-meet-again-au · 1 month

Note

Hey, can you include a “box of tissues” warning because I used about 5 boxes just reading this comic/hj

Apologies, we must’ve missed you. We do provide a complimentary handkerchief but we can substitute it for tissue boxes, if you’d like.

#asks

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mjolnirswriststrap · 4 months

Text

PICKPOCKET

Yelena x F!Reader Masterlist

Word Count: 3,884

Summary: A taxi, an interview, a drink, and then an attempted abduction.

Warnings: fluff, it gets dark for like two seconds, a family of pickpockets, whoop whoop that’s the sound of da police.

The bustling streets of Cleveland were no match for someone 10 minutes late to an interview. This was your fifth job lined up this week, and you tanked the other four. You had no luck when it came to these things, and no one wants to hire someone without experience.

You have two weeks to figure something out, or else your landlord is kicking you from your tiny studio. It’s above a Chinese restaurant, so the smell and heat alone are not worth what she’s charging in rent. You know you don’t have any other options.

You find the corner you told the taxi to meet you at, but it is nowhere to be seen. You wait, no so patiently, biting the remnants of fingernails you have left. Like you said, you have no luck. You see the car stop at the red light across the intersection, and hope this driver doesn’t mind speeding.

You walk to the curb, raising your arm to hail the cab down. A blonde woman walks up in front of you, throwing her arm up walking backwards to match your stance. You have no clue what she’s doing; this taxi belongs to you.

“Excuse me?” You say, nudging past her to reach the car door faster. Her reflexes outmatch yours by a mile, she opens the door, sliding in. “I just thought, we share yeah?”

You stand holding the door open, looking side to side in disbelief. She can’t be serious. “Listen lady, I have an interview I’m already late for, I can’t do this today.” You plead.

You lean down to see the woman talking to the driver through the plexiglass. There’s no time to argue anymore. You slide into the black leather seat, slamming the door. “Me first.” You roll your eyes, jutting out the address of your destination.

The driver peels away, you take a chance to relax. Practiced questions go through your mind. You can’t mess this job up, you options were exhausted. You wipe your eyes, trying to ease the throbbing stress behind them. You pull your fingers away to see them covered in black streaks. Your eyes widen, you forgot you’re wearing makeup.

You grab your purse from beside you, searching for your bedazzled compact mirror. All of the contents of your bag were strewn across your lap, it’s gone. You throw your head back, grunting through your teeth. “What’s wrong?” Your co-passenger asks. You look over to her, the reason evident on your face.

“My mascara.” You say defeated. You know you must look like a pouting child to the woman. Her dark eyes give you pity, and her bottom lip puffs out. “Oh sweetie. I’ll help you.” She pulls a complimentary taxi tissue from the box between you. Wrapping it around her finger she test swipes under your eye.

You’re frozen in place, she’s absolutely gorgeous. You were too fogged by anger to even get a good look at her. If it wasn’t for her telling accent, you’d know she was foreign based on looks. No one from around here looked like her.

She reached forward with her other hand gently holding onto your chin; when a bump cause her fingers to run across your lips. Her eyes are focused on yours, meticulously wiping away the black lacquer. She pulls her tissued hand away, you think she’s finished. “How do I thank you?” You attempt to smile, she’s still holding your chin.

“Not finished.” She drops the tissue and licks her thumb, your eyebrows raise as she wipes just under your lip. “Lipstick.” She says casually, opting to wipe her finger on her shirt sleeve and not the tissue. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Thank you.” You’re too embarrassed now to attempt a conversation.

“No need to thank me, I do it gladly for a pretty woman like you.” You laugh out loud, you were the runt of the litter compared to her. “You don’t have to say that.” You say, letting your hair fall in your face. How did you go from hating this woman for making you later; to wanting her to kiss you?

“That will be 12 dollars.” The driver breaks you out of the daze she put you in. You nod your head, fishing for your debit card. The blonde woman reaches past you, taping to pay on his card reader. “Go crush that interview, pretty woman.” She says, reaching past you again to open your door.

You’re speechless as she shoos you out of the cab. You turn to look at the office building behind you and the taxis already gone. You didn’t even get her name. You kick yourself as you walk into the building, the woman more present on your mind than the interview.

————————————————————————

That’s all it took, the woman’s face consuming your every thought. You didn’t overthink the questions the manager asked. You literally couldn’t, too preoccupied with the way the corners of her lips curled up. You smiled as you looked over your new work schedule. You knew you could do it, god, you’re so happy you could kiss that stranger in the back of the taxi.

You walk out of the building, eyes in a crescent shape, your smile touching each ear. “How did it go?” Your head jerks to the side and your smile instantly fades. What was once a meet cute is now an almost stalker situation. “What are you doing here?” You say, stopping in your tracks. No matter how attractive a person is, you always have your guard up.

She throws her hands up “Hey, no need to act that way. I just felt too invested to not know. So?” She says, not ashamed of her actions, fully expecting you to answer her. “I uh, I got the job.” You can’t help but to smile at your little victory.

“Sounds like we need to celebrate.” She says, pulling her phone from her pocket, searching for bars nearby. You find yourself raising your brows at the stranger yet again. “I’m sorry, but I don’t really hang out with strangers, who invaded my taxi.” You say, regretting turning her down.

She nods her head, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. “You know, I just thought you owe me.” She steps closer to you, entering your personal space. “You won’t get a drink with me but you’ll let me pay your fair?” You look up to meet her eyes, they have a deviance to them. “You did that before I had the chance.” You almost shy away from her, but then she’s telling you her name. “I’m Yelena, and you’re Y/N?”

“How do you know my name?” You say, anxiety coming back. “When he dropped me off, that’s what he called me.” She nods over to the taxi, idle on the curb. “So, can I buy you a drink for being a good girl and getting the job, or not?” Your cheeks blush, no one had ever called you a good girl before.

“One drink.” You say, trying to play off all the emotions flowing through you. “Yay, that’s what I like to see.” She says, grabbing your hand to pull you to the taxi. Her hand was warm, and strong, you don’t know if she saw it the way you did, but it had you gushing yet again.

“Three blocks down, take a right.” She says to the driver, undoubtedly happy to have so much business from you two. “I appreciate whatever interest you have in me, but what’s going on in your life that you can just minorly stalk a stranger?” You say, needing to know more about the mysterious woman.

She smiles at you, “I was bored.”. Hard to believe she had nothing better to do. “So you invaded my taxi for fun?” She shakes her head, “I came back, for fun.” She looks out the window and knocks on the glass “We’re here. Don’t wait up.”

You jump out of the car and wait on her to pay. What a gentleman you giggle to yourself. “Come with me.” She doesn’t reach for your hand this time. Instead she strides in front of you, swinging open the door to the little pub. “My mother works here, so free drinks.” She nods you in.

Can this day get any better you laugh to yourself. Now she grabs your hand and pulls you to the bar. “Mama, this is Y/N.” She yells over the drunk hum of the pub. Her mother looked too young to actually be her mother. They shared no resemblance at all. “Hello Y/N, I’m Melina.” She reaches out to shake your hand, but before she can, Yelena interrupts “Not her, Mama.” She says giver her mother a stern look.

Melina just blinks at her, giving you no indication on what she meant. She still reaches forward and shakes your hand, “It’s nice to meet one of Yelena’s friends.” She says.

“I wouldn’t go that far but.” You say, poking fun at you two being complete strangers. “We’re not friends.” Yelena says, clarifying that whatever this was, wasn’t friendly.

“Good to know.” You say, ordering a beer from her mom. Yelena sits on the stool beside you, speaking up when her mother walks away. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You take a swig of the beer that was at in front of you. “I didn’t take it any certain way.”. Yelena just looks at you, picking up her beer. “I like you more than that.” She takes a sip, looking away from you. So she was interested.

“So, Yelena, what else do you do besides pester strangers?” You flirt with her, picking at your nails and avoiding eye contact.

She grabs your hand, running her thumb across the peeled skin. “I like meeting new people, it’s not a crime.” You nod your head, letting her play with your fingers. “I’m kind of in my family business.” She says, not letting on to any more information.

“And what would that be? You can’t bring me to your moms bar and act coy now.” She downs the rest of her beer, looking over at you as the last few drops fall from the glass. “You wanna see the family business?” She stands, waving over her mother.

You nod, jumping off your stool. “I’ll see you at home Mama.” “You girls be safe, don’t hurt anyone!” You laugh out loud, not knowing how serious she was being. She starts walking down the sidewalk with you in tow. “Where are we going?” You say, bumping into a man that split Yelena and you apart. You roll your eyes, looking ahead to see Yelena picking up a woman’s purse for her. How caring, you think.

She walks beside you, looping her arm in yours. “To my house.” She says, stopping to smell fresh flowers at a kiosk. “First I meet your mom, now you’re taking me home. What did I do to deserve this?” You laugh.

She makes a quick turn down an alley, dragging you along. “It’s only weird if you make it weird.” She makes a great point. “This is me.” She says, opening a metal back door. “Nat, I’m Home.” She yells out, slinging down her bag.

“You’re home early.” A red head comes hopping down the stairs. She was just as beautiful as Yelena. Too gorgeous to be from around here. “Who’s this?” She says, aiming her attention towards you.

“I’m Y/N.” You give her a small wave, sheepishly standing behind Yelena. She smiles, mumbling to Yelena about needing to pay the water bill. “I’ll get it as soon as I can, it’s been a slow day.”

“Not slow, you’ve been preoccupied.” Nat bites back. Yelena groans “Let’s do this later, please.” She begs, not wanting to to make her company suffer through sisters arguing.

Nat turns around, ascending the stairs. “I thought you meant your business was out of your home, it looks pretty normal in here.” You say still in the dark.

“It is.” She points to the 70 inch tv behind her. You take a better look around and notice brand new appliances in the dilapidated kitchen. There were holes in the couch cover, but a MacBook was sitting on the coffee table. Your eyebrows furrow, “Not to be rude, but it kind of seems like your priorities are out of line. If the water bill needs paid, why own a Mac?” You might have overstepped.

“I’m trying to jailbreak it, it’s not ours.” She says, understanding your confused position. “Oh.” You say, still not understanding.

Yelena walks to the living room, sitting on the couch. “Wanna watch something?” She says, scrolling through Netflix. You accompany her, squeezing in on the love seat. “Of course, i didn’t have plans or anything.” You say sarcastically. This beautiful stranger could keep you here for days and you wouldn’t even notice that time past.

“I got you something.” She says, finally picking a movie. “How is that even possible, we met less than two hours ago.” She hadn’t been out of your sight since the interview. She pulls a tiny gold chain bracelet from her pocket. “I can’t accept that.” You say, feeling instant guilt that she spent money on you.

“It’s nothing, really.” She says, clasping it around your wrist. “I found it.”. You ogle the shining gold, you’d never owned anything like this. “How do I thank you?” You say, turning towards her in your seat. “Don’t, it’s nothing.” She assures you.

You look at your wrist to admire your new bracelet and see the time staring back at you. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.” You say, gathering yourself to leave. “Right.” Yelena says sadly, not letting you see the way her eyes hardened.

You take out a ripped piece of an envelope from your purse and quickly jot down your phone number. You lean over the couch, holding the paper beside her face, due to her keeping her back to you. “Call me.” You say, waiting for her to take the paper. She turns to give you a tight lipped smile and gently snatches the paper from you, throwing it down on the coffee table.

You wonder what changed, one second she’s gushing over you, now she’s acting like you really are a stranger. Walking out of the back alley door, you close it without another word. That was weird, you think to yourself as you make your way towards the smell of home.

______________________________________

You smile as you walk up to a neon red dragon. A bell jingles when you enter, alerting Kevin that someone was here. “I’ll be right with you!” He has his back to you while on the phone, probably taking an order. “It’s just me Kev.” He turns around and gives you a smile, rolling his eyes pointing at the phone. You laugh, he always tells you about horrible customers.

The phone claps on the hook and he turns toward the counter. “You look like your day was worse than mine.” He says, packing a brown paper bag with white containers. You shake your head no. “It was just random. First this woman tries to steal my taxi,”. He raises an eyebrow at you. “Right! Dude I was so pissed. But something else happened that kind of made up for the bad start.” He places the packed bag under the heat lamps. “SPILL IT!” He says, wiping down the counter in front of you.

“I got the job!” You squeal, no one was in the restaurant or else you would’ve been scolded by Kevin’s dad. “Girl, I am so happy for you, now you can tell Mrs. Jones to suck it. You’re not going anywhere.” She was the restaurants landlord too. Kevin’s Dad had many problems with her in the past, but he always figured it out, he told you that you would figure it out too.

“Hopefully, just keep your fingers crossed that everything works out.” You say to him, a customer walks in and Kevin switches his attention. You phone dings and you pull it from your pocket.

Unknown: sorry about earlier, I wanna see you again.

You stare down at the screen, maybe she didn’t have a change of heart. Kevin walks back up to you, his apron gone and the kitchen lights off. Typing out a quick reply you stand from your stool. “Who you texting?” He says, curious.

“No one, just the woman from the taxi…” you say, hoping he doesn’t catch on. “And why would you be texting her?” He ushers you out of the store, locking up for the night.

“We might have gotten a drink after the interview. And I might have went back to her house.” You look at your feet, far too ashamed to face your friend.

“Okay, where do I even begin? Are you crazy?” Kevin says, grabbing your arm, stopping you from turning down the alley to your door. “Hear me out.” You laugh, trying to play off the severity of it.

Kevin crosses him arms, “Please, explain why you threw caution to the wind and went on a rendezvous with a possible murderer. I’m listening.”.

“First of all, she’s not a murderer. Secondly, she’s hot.” You say, finally making the short walk to your door. You unlock it and look behind you. Kevin shakes his head in disapproval, “Just, promise to be safer next time?” He asks, pressing a button on his key that makes a loud beeping sound. The headlights of his car flickered against the side of the building.

“Yeah, yeah, promises, promises. Get home safe.” You wave him off as you walk into your stairway entry. Climbing the stairs in the dark. You reach the top to see your front door cracked open, a light coming from inside.

You’re sure you locked both doors before you left. You slowly step into the small studio, you’re facing the open bathroom door when you enter. No one was in there, unless they’re hiding behind your clear shower curtain. You step out from behind the door to see someone sitting in your chair, facing the window.

Without thinking you shout out, “What are you doing in my house?”. If you could slap yourself right now, you would. You constantly say the wrong thing, and here you were being slightly too nice to an intruder. They turn the chair around and every hair on your body stands.

“Yelena?” You say, terror showing in your eyes. She just sits there. “How do you know where I live? Why are you here? Did you break into my house?” You take a step back, not wanting to believe it.

“I had to, you gave me no other choice. Running away like that earlier.” She ignores your other questions. You scoff, “I wasn’t running away. It got late, besides I don’t really have to explain myself to you.” Your hand reaches in your pocket, grasping your phone.

You know you should’ve called the police as soon as you seen the door open. But you just can’t help yourself. Yelena noticed your hand gripping something. “I think you might have mistaken my kindness.” She says. A chill runs down the back of your spine, “What? This?” You take the golden chain from your wrist, and throw it to her lap.

She wraps it around her fingers, smiling. “You should feel lucky, I don’t take every girl to meet my mom.” She says, standing up and walking towards you. You take another step before your back hits the wall. You look to your right, the dark stairs were your only exit. Before you could react she was slamming the door on your foot.

You scream out in pain and try to pry the door off your foot. Yelena steps closer to you now that you’re trapped. “You’re a psycho!” You yell in her face. Kevin was right, the woman from the taxi is a murderer.

“Why do you make things so hard for yourself, huh?” She caresses your cheek and you push her hand away. “See?” She tuts.

She opens the door and you jerk your foot free. You lung toward your kitchenette. A knife block sat at the edge of your counter. Maybe if you had a knife she’d leave. Before you could take a step she trips you, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back. She leads you to your bed.

You don’t fight back in fear of her breaking your arm. You know you can’t scream. Kevin was the last one out down stairs. The carpet store next door was closed because the owners were on vacation. You’re forced to sit down on the edge of it. She doesn’t let go of your arm and stands in front of you. “What do you want?”.

Tears start to form in your eyes. Yelena juts out her bottom lip and runs her hand over your hair, “Don’t cry baby girl, I don’t want to hurt you.” She coos.

You roll your eyes “then what?” You can’t play along for much longer before you really try to escape. “Natasha says I’m not good with rejection.” She says, inspecting the threads on your shirt.

You feel something in your heart, like it broke a little bit for her, how could she possibly think you rejected her. “I would never reject you, look at you.” You say, pleading for this to end. It almost hurt your feelings being in her presence reminded you how Neanderthal you were compared to her.

“Then why did you leave?” She says, acting like she has all the answers. “You left to go sit in an empty Chinese restaurant.” She says, looking at her feet, now not feeling so confident, she thought she wasn’t as important as fortune cookies and low mein.

“Kevin closes up alone every night, what kind of friend would I be if I let him do that? There’s safety in numbers, that is all, I promise. I would’ve stayed if it wasn’t for that.” You explain yourself to her, just like you said you didn’t have to do.

You find yourself feeling guilty, like this was all a misunderstanding. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I was running away from you.” You look up into her eyes, “let’s just forget all this, okay?” You say, desperately needing her to remove the pressure from your arm.

“I don’t think I can do that. What’s stopping you from turning me in for breaking and entering? What’s stopping you from pressing charges?” She says, thinking over her options.

The words spill from your mouth before you have a chance to stop them “Why would I call the cops on my girlfriend? That’s not very nice.” You say, playing along with her psycho antics. You force a smile, even though your arm was on fire.

Yelena searches your eyes for sincerity, she must have found some, since she releases you arm and massages your shoulder. “Sorry about that.” She says, sitting beside you on the bed.

You nod, rubbing your nervous hands on your knees. “Girlfriend huh?” Yelena teases. You look over to her, wondering if she’s serious. “Break into my house and subdue me huh?”.

#yelena belova #yelena x reader #avengers fanfiction #avengers #mcu #black widow #yelena black widow #natasha and yelena #theif #melina vostokoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #alexei shostakov #red guardian #yelena x you #yelena x y/n #wlw #Yelena belova is a lesbian

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retrodreamgirl · 2 years

Text

seasons of becoming: summer | steve harrington x fem!reader

spring | summer | fall | winter

summary: summer is bees buzzing in the buds of sunflowers tall in lined fields, lazing about in the yard or by the nearest pool for the perfect tan, it's the smell of wet asphalt in the steamy heat after a torrential storm, it's hotdogs on the grill and corn on the cob, sneaking fireworks to the safest corner of Hawkins (probably joyce byers' backyard bc hopper is so smitten he won't do a thing), it's laughing with friends and cursing the things unrequited in spare time. for steve harrington summer includes days spent in his backyard with found family, packing coolers and absolutely not staring at the semi-new edition to the group, half baked invitations to stargazing, choco chip banana cookies, his first constellation (or was it an asterism?), and sleeping under the stars with you. [5k]

warnings: fem!reader, fluff, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, me using my minimal knowledge about astronomy, not proofed or edited

⤜♡→

Steve finds you in the midst of summer.

It’s a hot one in Hawkins, record breaking some might say. The sticky heat and packed pools are not nearly as appealing as they may have been in your younger years. You’re altogether withdrawn from the distorted jumble of ice cream trucks tantalizing the light pockets of small town youth and pickup games lining cul-de-sacs or a small table in someone’s basement.

You’d somehow found yourself a permanent staple. When you weren’t wrapping gift boxes and tending to the flowers not yet dead from the scalding temperament of the hot season you could often be found lounging with an orange creamsicle between red stained lips in Steve Harrington’s backyard.

There seemed a spot carved especially for you in the lounger half obscured from the sun by a shady tree for most of the day. That is when you weren’t being dragged into the pool by Lucas or entirely occupied by adolescent gossip with El and Max.

It seemed unfair to Steve who was left to the occupation of restocking coolers with cold cans lest anyone brave the cold tile of his kitchen to get something for themselves.

It was there, a can of coca cola lukewarm in his grip, that he saw you for the first time.

It’s a lame excuse to claim the round of his retinas blind to you leading up to now. He won’t claim your beauty as something that snuck up, but he will claim it as something he never thought quite suited him.

You’re the epitome of a warm welcome, eyes always widened with the intonation of rapt attentiveness, lips even in a way that allowed the event of falling flat if something seemed especially scathing, or mocking the upward curve of sliced melon if he said just the right thing. You were never judging or claiming to know something that wasn’t abundant in clarity, offering him a clean slate to present himself as he is rather than defending who he was.

Unfortunately, though a rather subjective take as it were because perhaps it's fairly fortunate for him to catch on but unfortunate in the measurement of his self worth, Steve knows himself to maintain an inch of the discourtesy that controlled him before civility kicked in.

So how not to notice you with your left leg perched so your painted toes tuck beneath your sun kissed thighs, the flesh bare leading up to your bathing suit of a color complimentary to the warmth of your skin.

Your creamsicle is nearly down to the stick, you’re laughing at something Robin’s said and Steve swallows hard when your head tilts back to expose the lengthy column of your neck.

He’s clammy. He wants to blame it on the heat or maybe the lame cold he’d been nursing a week ago, but this feels nothing like the dewy sickness that accumulated on his neck to accompany the slimy post nasal drip that cost him nearly four tissue boxes.

You’d been there then too, but he was too busy not noticing to notice the trouble. The soup you whipped up was homemade, chicken noodle with fresh carrots and celery swimming around in the broth. You brought it to him in a heavy container, far too much soup for one person but somehow he’d eaten it all that week. You didn’t seem slighted when he barely managed a thank you, but rather combed your fingers through his sweat soaked scalp and offered a cold press to sooth the hollow ache in his bones.

“Dude, this is just sad.” Dustin stalks over, snatching the can from Steve, squinting at the warmth and shoving it into the cooler in exchange for one freshly iced.

“What?”

“She’s in your backyard and you still can’t talk to her.”

“What are you talking about?” Irritation was never Steve’s strong suit when it came to fending off the gaggle of children he’s thoughtlessly accumulated over the years. They only brush it off their chests, rebounding to their initial burden of nursing him through the film of inadequacy that’s somehow come to overshadow the strong shouldered seductor that lay beneath.

They’re all too similar is what Steve came up with early on, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to tame them with a well placed mark of sarcasm or a gentle punt to their strong egos.

It’s not like they don’t return it in kind, sometimes ten fold.

“Oh, so we’re going with complete ignorance. Fine. But Lucas is gonna kick your ass if you hurt her feelings.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see him try. Anyways, why would I hurt her feelings? I’m just loading a cooler.” He makes a show of it, avoiding your side of the yard, shoving as many cans as possible into the geometric casing. Both parties are well aware of the childish back and forth, but Dustin is the one who relents first, grabbing an extra can and sauntering over to you.

Steve follows him, plopping to the edge of your lounge chair with his shoulders hunched over. He glances through the blinding beam of sunlight attempting to cut through his pupils when your heel prods at his naked back. Your head is tilted to your shoulder, brow arched.

“Something wrong?” You’re teasing, the glint in your eye calling on him directly. Dustin covertly drags Robin to the edge of the pool, both of them close enough to eavesdrop but far enough away for a private moment.

“Nope. How many of those are you gonna eat?” He reclines, holding himself up on his elbows allowing your legs to envelope his slender frame, and taps the stick hanging from the corner of your mouth. It’s your third one today, not that he actually cares, but he does enjoy the way you shift, dragging the orange dyed wood along the crease of your lips.

“I don’t know, they’re good. Is three too many?” He considers you a moment too long, the way your fingers deftly twirl the popsicle stick between your teeth so he can see your tongue poking through the gap. Your eyes have widened a fraction, like it’s an important matter, the number of popsicles deemed acceptable on any occasion.

“Have the whole box for all I care, s’just ice cream.” He pinches your thigh, taking a moment to revel in the way it feels soft and tender beneath his fingers. The instance is longer in his head, but in reality it's truly one that’s fleeting in effect to the way you screech and shove his hand away almost immediately.

“You shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to you.” You tut, thumbing at the flesh of his cheeks in retaliation. He doesn’t hate it, but plays the part of disgruntled and shoves your arm away.

“Take your own advice, babe.” He’s not sure why he said it, he’s not even sure he said it until you don’t say anything back and the two missing stooges glance over their shoulders with funny looks. The circumstance is strange and a strangled groan catches in his throat.

It’s the first time all summer he’s been anything other than horrified by the way the sun tints his skin a shade of red darker than blush when he’s been out for more than five minutes. It seems the one courtesy the season has afforded him, his features already schooled like he’s said nothing out of turn.

“I should get going.” You sigh, maneuvering around Steve’s frame until he takes it upon himself to sit up fully. He tries to gauge your reaction, wondering if he’d unknowingly pushed too far.

“Already bored of us?” Robin calls over her shoulder, catching the attention of the kids splashing in the pool.

“I’m going stargazing tomorrow night so I need to get up early to make sure I can close up on time.” You chirp, collecting your pile of sticks while sliding your feet into your sandals. The sun is just beginning to set, that period of morning reversal fading past the rigid edge of Steve’s roof.

“Stargazing?” Sometimes you say things and it reminds Steve of the whimsical way about you. It’s dizzying to him how you carry yourself.

Unlike him you only just afford the time for days lounging around, budgeted carefully in respect to an adolescent business nestled between shops in town. Even before today he found a certain respect in the way you revel in the enjoyment of all the small things.

“Yeah, I like to go sometimes to see what I can make out.” You shrug, wrangling a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt over your bathing suit. “Why, you wanna come?”

"Uh…sure." It's clear you were joking, not intending him to agree to something so unintentionally intimate. That's not why he agreed, of course not, he's just interested in the experience. "Unless you don't want the company."

"No, you can come. Do you wanna meet there?"

"I can pick you up, it'll save time." The logistics feel something toeing the edge of formality, the edge taken by something awkward fluttering between you.

"Sure, just come by at like seven thirty." You're about to further extend the invitation, Steve can tell when you stiffen turning to the rest of the group watching the two of you curiously from the edge of the pool.

"Sounds good, these losers are planning a new campaign or something so it’ll just be the two of us."

“Yeah, you too have fun.” Dustin winks, an amusement to you, but not so amusing to Steve glaring over your shoulder.

~*~

Steve almost laughed at the look you gave him when you answered the door, like you hadn’t imagined him actually showing up in an old pair of basketball shorts and a light hoodie. It took you a moment to recall him, lips shaping into something that quickly died on your tongue before you let him into your apartment.

The small space was definitely you, neat to a point, your clutter further indicative of your personality. Various cookbooks lining the counters and plants decorating the windowsill in mismatched pots. There’s a bag of soil nestled beneath the tv stand with a sweet seafoam green watering can shaped next to it.

Your tv is tiny, a wonky antenna sticking from the side making him wonder if you ever actually watch it. There’s a radio humming softly in the kitchen, the smell of something sweet heavy in the air, cookies if he had to guess.

You’re dressed in something cute if Steve were to characterize it; a soft pair of shorts and a tank top with a loose cardigan draping your frame. He tries not to notice too hard when the sleeve slips over the curve of your shoulder to rest in the crook of your elbow. He can smell the fresh scent of your shampoo when you close the door behind him, something pretty and feminine he doesn’t think he could name just yet, and light lotion.

“Sorry, I sort of lost track of time.” Didn’t think you would actually show up, he thinks to himself, unsure whether he should be offended or delighted to have caught you off guard.

“No worries, I’m a little early.” You offer him the small kindness of a smile before you scramble toward the kitchen. He ambles after you spotting the oven mitt nesting one of your palms. He rests against the door frame, legs crossed in that cool guy way that often makes you chuckle. “Are you baking?”

“Just something small.” You shrug like you’re embarrassed you’re doing it at all. Steve finds it sweet, the way you’d somehow managed a dusting of flour to the apple of your cheek in the time you’d walked by the counter just ten seconds prior. “My bananas were browning and I decided to make cookies.”

“That’s cute.”

“What’s cute about it? There’s nothing cute about my job.” You grumble, opening the oven a tad to check the dough lined cookie sheet. You pull the tray out, quick to scoop the cookies onto the cooling rack with a well loved spatula.

“Anyone else would’ve tossed the bananas or probably just eaten them if it’s Eddie.” He chuckles, stealing a handful from the bag of chocolate chips propped open on the counter. They’re bittersweet on his tongue, like they aren’t completely enjoyed unless they’re half melted in a blanket of butter and sugar.

“Eddie?”

“Eddie Munson, he’s been on the road with his band for a few months. Actually he’ll probably be back—”

“In two weeks.” You finish, walking the distance to the sink to wet the rag resting on the divider. You wring it between your fingers, nudging Steve to the side to clean the mess of sugar and flour mixing on the counter. Steve is too perplexed to react to the elbow in his side, barely managing to stuff the remaining chocolate chips past his lips where he looks at you with new eyes. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

“You didn’t—I didn’t know you even knew who he was.”

“What? Eddie and I have been friends for years, and he’s never mentioned you.”

“It’s a recent development. He doesn’t seem like your type.” Steve is resting on the counter, the vague itch of the wet seeping through his sleeve is nothing compared to the curiosity he’s hoping to scratch behind the ear.

“You mean because everyone says he’s a freak?” —you glance at him, your eyelashes batting attentively— “Well by all accounts, I’m sure he would say the same thing about us.”

“Touche. But seriously, how did you guys even meet?” You bristle, poking lightly at one of the fresh baked goods then passing one over with a hushed warning that it’s not quite cooled. Steve neatly shoves the whole thing into his mouth, preferring the scalding delicacy of the mixed bananas and gooey chocolate melting on his tongue than burning his palm. “C’mon jus’tell me.”

He talks through the sticky bits coating his mouth, lapping at his teeth like a dog with a spoon of peanut butter.

“I don’t know, we were just kinda friends at first. We met at a party and it just stuck I guess.” Steve is suddenly too aware of how small your kitchen is by about the fifth time you shoulder past him. You avoid actually looking at him, somehow the busiest woman in the world navigating the space between the oven and the counter to shovel the semi-cooled cookies into tupperware. “How did you two meet? I would never guess you would click.”

“He was running that dungeons and dragons club at school and Dustin wouldn’t shut up about him.”

“So you don’t like him?”

“I didn’t say that. Our relationship is complicated, okay?”

“Okay.” The subject is worn, Steve watches you pack the cookies as well as a few drinks and a bag of sliced apples into a small wicker basket. He’s confused by the bare minimum picnic, but offers to carry the woven casing when you seal it on the counter.

"I thought we were stargazing." Steve reflects unlocking his car guiding the basket, placing it gently into the emptiness of his backseat. You’re watching him like you don't trust the clumsiness of his hands, cradling a blanket in your arms where you rock on your heels.

"We are, I always bring snacks and blankets. It gets chilly sometimes." You shrug, scrutinizing the uncharacteristic maneuver of Steve opening the passenger door for you. “Why can’t I drive?”

He leans against the open car door, regarding you with his brow teasing the length of his forehead, nearly mating with the hair that drips from his scalp. You hate that he looks so pretty doing it and he hates that you don’t look too impressed with him. “It’s my car.”

“Sure, but it’s my spot. You don’t even know where we’re going.” A fair point, and he’s fallen victim to your horrible sense of verbal direction enough times to relent rather quickly.

His lips flutter along the corner and he’s not sure he can quite make out the words without a lengthy debriefing on exactly how you should handle his baby. He opts for sliding into the passenger seat without further pretense and tries not to smile so wide when you audibly applaud your small victory.

“We should be able to catch the sunset if it isn’t too far.” You’re too smiley to respond, adjusting your seat so you can reach the petals and still maintain relative comfort. Steve almost comments on the way your smile eats up your cheeks, eyes crinkled at the corner making him feel like he’s made your night.

There’s a stupid giddy sensation in his chest, one that all but consumes his nerves when you begin pulling out of your buildings lot. He clears his throat, adjusting the dial on the stereo to something just past the level of white noise.

“So, who do you have your eye on this week?” You finally give him some attention, smooth behind the wheel with your eyes geared forward. The words are icky in Steve’s ears, not something he feels inclined to talk about with you.

Mostly because the girl he’s currently got his eye on is gripping his steering wheel with such firm hands it forces him to adjust in his seat.

It’s only of minor inconvenience to note the other girl, the one that happened to find herself a sufficient extracurricular, was splayed in his backseat just a few days ago and though he knows you would take it in jest if he did bring it up he also believes it would only serve to tarnish his reputation and he’s unwilling to yield the few steps.

“Come on, let’s talk about anything else. I have interests, you know.”

“Alright, I’ll bite. What are your interests?” You. He thinks pathetically, but reels himself by the words dying on his tongue enough to muster an actual response.

“Well…don’t laugh, but I’ve been thinking of going to school actually.” He expects a scoff or a chuckle because surely the idea of him opening a textbook as anything more than a tactic of some cheesy roleplay seems outlandish. But you don’t do either of those things.

Instead you glance at him from the corner of your eye, turning the radio up just a tad. “Oh yeah? What for?”

“Don’t laugh but—”

“Steven, I’m not gonna laugh at you! The only thing that’s gonna make me laugh is you telling me not to every two seconds.” He’s stunned for a moment, the only time anyone has ever called him Steven it’s felt scalding hot or filled with temperament.

His mother when he was young and she felt the need to reprimand him constantly for silly things like tucking his shirt or spilling jam on his new pants. His father when he feels the sudden urge to remind Steve that he’s only adequate when he’s not around which really means both his parents are out of town so wrapped up in controlling each other they forget him altogether.

Or teachers who said it in a mocking tone because it’s the only way to humiliate him without the implication of their own further punishment because he’s a Harrington and that seems to mean something to someone at least.

But when you say it it’s light and airy, like you hadn’t really thought of it at all. You just said it with the stain of your laughter trailing every syllable. He wants you to say it again, and again, and again…

“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to, but I’m not gonna make fun of you unless you tell me you wanna go to clown college or something.” He hadn’t realized you’ve already stopped driving, the place you’ve stopped somewhere familiar to him. “Trust me, you don’t need to go to school for that, you’re a natural.”

“Wow, I guess I should just forget it and join the circus.”

“No no, one man show for sure.” You unbuckle, glancing through the windshield like you’re expecting someone else to be there. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I told you I wouldn’t laugh then I called you a clown.” You shrug, rolling your neck on the head of your seat. It makes Steve laugh, shoving his door open to feel the cool evening air on his face. “Why are you laughing?”

“C’mon.”

He fishes the basket from the backseat and lets you lead him through the thickness of tall grass, the blade of a mower clearly nowhere near this place in a few months at least. You don’t seem bothered by it, the tall wisps winding around your calves, tickling the skin the further inland you travel. Eventually it tapers off into an uneven field, perfectly trimmed for the blanket you throw over top of it.

“It’s pretty here.” Steve lowers himself, watching you pick at a patch of overgrown purple flowers creeping over one edge of the cotton fabric. You tuck one of them behind your ear, offering him the rest of the bunch which he’s too stunned to refuse. “I actually think I’ve been here before.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, you have lived here your whole life.” It’s not quite dark yet, but the tail end of golden hour. The sun dances over you with the speckles of fireflies lighting a pattern every few feet. You lay back, extending your hand for one of the bugs to land with a controlled swiftness.

“Yeah…I have.” Your touch is feather light where it absently begins to trace the thick hair lacing Steve’s legs, your attention focused on the setting sun.

It reflects in your eyes with the pretty oranges fading to pinks then darker into violet and blue dusk. Steve has begun picking petals, showering them over your cheeks, heart growing ten sizes when you giggle and collect them in your palm.

She loves me.

She loves me not.

The more he sits the more he stews and Steve hasn’t actually told anyone this since he thought it up to begin with. You're the only person who hasn’t made fun of the idea, so he inhales something fierce.

“I think I wanna study social work.” He exhales it like a weak flame, unsure if it’ll burn at a constant or flicker out with the next vague gust of wind.

You tilt your head to focus on him completely, your lips parting with a winding thought. Steve thinks it must be bad when you have to sit up to even begin to project your initial reaction.

“Really? That’s amazing!” Your hands are cool in his that are somehow always sticky with sweat when he’s around you lately. “God, I think you’d be so good for it, Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. You’re great with kids, assuming that’s what you wanna focus on, and either way the idea of helping other people is so you.” You gush, tightening your hold on him. You seem to realize just how close you’ve gotten, your bodies are nearly pressed together from every length but one, so you scoot a few inches away.

“I mean, I have to actually get into school first.” Steve mutters, tugging at his ears entirely too hot. Sometimes he thinks of the day you played him for an idiot at Lucas’s scrimmage and it strikes him that under any other circumstance he would’ve held a grudge or at least he wouldn’t be sitting here begging you to notice him. He laughs and you nudge his shoulder, catching him off balance.

He lands against the blanket, though he’s positive there must be a rogue pebble beneath it because it doesn’t feel too good on the back of his head.

“You can do it, you’ve got like ten geniuses at your disposal and I swear as much shit as they give you they only want the best for you.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.”

“Yeah, don’t get all mushy. We haven’t even gotten to the actual stargazing yet.” You take up your spot next to him, the subtle darkening of the sky leaving you two specs in the middle of the giant field.

You wonder what it looks like from the perspective of a bird, if it were to swoop low enough would it see you the same way you see yourselves or are you so much more insignificant than you hope? Either way your collective minds wander to a time this would’ve seemed impossible, just a short while ago that you didn’t exist to each other at all.

“Do you actually know about constellations and shit?”

“I know a little. I thrifted these astronomy books back in junior year and brushed up, but really I just know enough to get by.” A knack for downplaying everything you do, Steve scoffs and braces his arm behind his head, nearly elbowing you in the face. He glances over with the intent to apologize but you’re so focused on the sky he doesn’t even think you noticed.

“Lucky for you I know next to nothing. If it’s not a dipper I’m pretty useless.” It’s a slow start, the stars fading into view, adjusting to the new night and the similar circumstance. It’s mostly quiet between you for a while and Steve has to calm his agitation because this is not a date and he has no reason to impress you or to feel like he’s doing a bad job.

“Okay c’mon, it’s easy. Honestly if you do it often enough you’ll be able to pick them out in no time because they’re in nearly the same spot depending on the time of year.” You point toward a single star, tracing it to another until Steve can see you’ve traced a triangle. “The Summer Triangle.”

“I’d love to meet the genius who named that one.”

“Shut up, it sounds like something you’d come up with. Anyway, it’s formed by Vega, Deneb, and Altair.”

“Hey, my first constellation!”

“It’s not a constellation, it's an asterism. The three stars are actually part of different constellations.” You explain, lingering on the brightest of the three positioned at the southern tip of the celestial polygon. “Altair is only seventeen lightyears away which puts it near like the top ten brightest stars in the night sky. It’s the brightest star in the constellation Aquila.”

You gently grab Steve’s wrist where it rests along his stomach. He’s not sure when the air became so cool, but your skin is warm against his pulse and he’s glad you can’t make out the blush he can feel rising to his cheeks. You guide his pointer finger to the shape of what he assumes must be Aquila, though in his mind he’s already forgotten how to pronounce it.

“It looks like a pterodactyl.” He feels dumb saying it, is sure you’re gonna admonish him for not taking you seriously which is not his intention. He’s mentally tracing the shape, pointing out the wings and the beak in case you really do call him out.

“Close enough, it’s supposed to be an eagle.” You chuckle, sitting up to grab the basket of food momentarily forgotten by the pair of you. You offer him a cookie, pulling free a slice of apple and a side of caramel he hadn’t seen you pack. “I brought cider if you want some.”

You pass him a large thermos, your gazes catching something like passing ships. Steve thinks even with his minimal knowledge of proper names and constellations versus whatever the hell an asterism is he could find every star in your eyes just now.

He almost says it, something dorky to parallel a cheesy pickup line that wouldn’t work on you as anything more than a stupid joke you wouldn’t let him live down. Maybe he could do it up disgustingly big and buy you a star, name it something that would make you both laugh at the absurdity of it.

“We should sleep here.” Steve realizes he’s still staring, but he also realizes you are too. The words sort of hanging on the edge of your bottom lip the way ‘here’ seems to drag on for longer than necessary.

“You mean in this field of bugs and weeds?”

“Steve, they’re flowers.” You correct him, adjusting the ‘flower’ you’d previously tucked. “I’ve always wanted to try sleeping here, but I’m too scared to do it alone.”

“So, you wanna do it with me?”

“Why not? You're here, aren’t you? Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything weird.” Sure. Nothing weird at all sleeping in a field with you, don’t even sweat it.

“Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous? I mean, we’re right next to the woods, anything could be out here. Anything could wander out and eat us alive.” Dare he say more he wouldn’t need even the dullest blade to rip the tab on that can of worms.

“You mean me.” Not a question, not even an accusation, just a matter-of-fact statement.

“What?”

“They would eat me because I’m sweet, you on the other hand, they might use you as a toothpick but you’re far too bitter for eating.” Now, Steve isn’t usually bothered by these sorts of defamations of character, but he’s all too concerned that you think he’s bitter. How to change your mind?

There are a few ways, the one that truly speaks to him is far too inappropriate a means of explanation. He could lean just a few feet to the right to place the gentleness of a kiss to your lips, no way you can deny him the confection of his character, especially when one of your cookies is so neatly resting in the buds of his tongue.

You would be so unsuspecting a victim, he can see the way your eyes would widen a fraction, can hear your inner monologue, something about how unsettling it would be for him if he were to open his eyes and see you staring. He would do it for the fun of watching you screw your eyes shut a fraction too late, already too embarrassed to have been caught.

But friends don’t do those things.

So he has to settle for bug bites and a night sleeping in the grass, but at least you’ll be right beside him.

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