#i don't know what ray tracing is and do not tell me

[jompsjnngurdsn]

Playing through Dragon Quest V, which allows you to recruit monsters into your party, and I just happened to notice that my little chimera buddy can, inexplicably, equip the "Robust Lingerie" armor?

So this little friend:

Can (and now does) wear this:

It's little Super Nintendo sprites, so there's no visual change, but, I mean, clearly that's why they haven't done a modern remake of DQ5. Imagine this? In full 3D? 4K? Ray-tracing?!?!

Too sexy.

[julymusings]

PORTRAIT jason hates taking photos. it's a shame you find him so beautiful.

Jason Todd isn’t one to take pictures. Standing there with a fake smile, posing for a deceptively happy vignette of an unhappy reality feels awkward. He never knows what to do with his hands. He doesn’t like the way his face translates through the lens; the green of his eyes glows just this side of too spectral, his broad, stocky frame towers over that of his siblings, and the scars on his face bring memories of a darker time, an intentional carelessness for his life he used to carry. He leans away when others huddle together to smile. Pretends to notice something behind him when caught in the background of the lens.

Enter you. Only capable of looking at him with hearts in your eyes. Serving on a silver platter what he used to starve and scavenge for in dimly lit bars on the lips of women who only saw him as something to sink their teeth into and then spit out, never sticking around for longer than one night. Jason feasted at first, he’ll admit, stuffing himself to sickness on your unconditional adoration until it was almost too much to bear.

You take pictures of him and gush over them, telling him how pretty he is. How he belongs in a museum. He never believed you, never bothering to actually look at the pictures you take. But pretty soon he’s everywhere; you set him as your lock screen and screensaver, and print photos to frame on your bedside table. When your storage is maxed out, you steal Jason’s phone to flood his camera roll, and he finds that he keeps going back to stare at the photos you take. Selfies where you kiss his cheek and his mouth curves upward just enough to transform him from brooding to disarming; portraits where he looks, not at the camera, but just beyond and his eyes crinkle, the tips of his sharp canines peeking out over his bottom lip. He looks…different. Better. He starts to believe the things you tell him; his beauty is ancient. Michelangelo himself carved the contours of his body. The Trojans and the Greeks fought for a decade over him.

But what is it about this camera, he wonders, that makes his appearance digestible? Is it the way you frame him front and center, the backlighting sun rays extending in all directions behind him, encircling him with a holiness he doesn’t deserve? The scenery against which you capture him, busy nighttime streets under city lights, just dark enough to smooth out his rough edges? 

Or maybe it’s just you. Seeing himself from your point of view. Seeing himself as yours. His hooked nose, crooked from being broken one too many times, belongs to you for the early mornings when you trace down the bridge, around his lips, and up his jaw, drawing a portrait with your fingertips. His unruly hair, with streaks of white that make him stick out like a sore thumb, exists only for you to run your fingers through when he lays his head in your lap. His scars are for you to kiss on those difficult days until he can bear to look in the mirror again. He wants nothing more than to be a museum of all things you.

Jason Todd isn’t one to take pictures. But when you ask so nicely, showering him with compliments and promises of thank-you-kisses later on, how can he say no?

why are we as a society still striving for more definition and higher quality photos for anything other than, like, x-ray imaging and space exploration. I don't want 8k ultra-max hd in my phone that highlights every hair and pore and eye bag i want grainy and dark and fuzzy because it makes me look hotter and that's a fact. rant over

anyway he's so pretty i wanna take candids of him and kiss his face and squeeze his huge ti-*GUNSHOTS*

this is gonna be my last post for the next few weeks because i have finals. see you on the other side🫡 (born to be a farmer on a remote island, forced to study STEM) i'll be on requests as soon as i'm back trust

[neuvilyney]

— 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟

★ soft!lover!wanderer x shy!reader requested by @dobadoo

★ I don't actually remember the specific request that was sent in, but the reader was supposed to be more innocent and naive with scaramouche being more cold and distant, so hopefully I got that right lmaoo enjoy!

★ disclaimer: you and wanderer are in an established relationship and there's definitely a lot of physical touch, Wanderer's also more of a soft yandere here.

A gift from the heavens, an angel amidst lowlives, perhaps even a miracle, was his precious flower. He couldn’t help but admire the way rays of morning sunlight danced over the slopes and curves of your body as you slept. If only his creator had installed a lens inside his eyes that’d allow him to photograph this moment, bury it somewhere deep inside him beside the remnants of his past selves. And to think other people would’ve been able to see you like this had he not sunk his claws into your heart first and foremost…no, no that wouldn’t do. 

Luckily, you stirred before your lover could conjure yet another fictional scenario to get angry over. “Go back to sleep, flower.” Wanderer murmured, the tips of his ball-jointed fingers gliding over the line of your brows to brush away any sleep-tousled hairs from your bleary eyes. You looked so lovely like this, just barely rousing from sleep to the sight of him sitting up in bed with those piercing eyes staring down at you- calculating, almost cold had it not been for the way your warmth melted the ice around his heart.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, rolling onto your side and then slumping forward with a groan. His hand naturally found its way to your back, briefly tracing the line of your spine up to your nape- bare skin compared to where his electro sigil remained etched into his skin as a permanent reminder of what was meant to be his legacy. “Hey, you’re-...you’re staring, stop that…” He could only smirk, feeling the warmth of your skin nearly double as blood rushed to your face in embarrassment under his wordless stare. 

“It’s early. And it’s not like you’re stopping me, quit your whining.” Cold fingers trace around your neck when he tilted his head to find your eyes with his own, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. A sweet gesture, though like everything he did, calculated. Each pass of his hands on your skin, each smile you gifted him, he absorbed your light like darkness. Your stars to be lost in his skies. You’d never have to worry, of course, not when he took such good care of you. From the first day you stumbled into him, in disarray and a flurry of apologies over tripping into him or something- he couldn’t quite remember what you said, not when he was so entranced by how alive you were. His personal sunshine for skin damned to run cold. 

Similarly, it was his detached demeanor that drew you closer to the puppet. Like smoldering embers, a flame dormant- just waiting for a spark to render it alive again. “You look like a mess.” He snorted, tugging at the wrinkled fabric of your sleepwear. In retort, a huff left your lips as you grabbed his shirt and tugged him backwards- an uncharacteristically bold move from his sweetheart of a lover. 

“And you look pristine. Something you wanna tell me, mister?” Came your playful chiding, knowing that he rarely slept. Sleep to you was necessary- to him, it was an excuse to lay with you. 

“Careful,” Wanderer scoffed, his whole hand laid over your giggling face and pushing you back onto the bed. “You’ve gotten a bit too cheeky as of late.” He griped, scowling with his arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t tell me I’m already influencing you?”

When you only bashfully smiled and shrugged where you lay, the blankets enshrouded about your bodies like clouds, the frown lines about his lips softened. With an exaggerated sigh, the former harbinger lay beside you and dragged you by the head to lay on his shoulder. “Fine. We’ll rest an hour more, but that’s it.” He begrudgingly speaks, as if it wasn’t his idea.

And as you slowly fall back asleep, overheating the bedsheets with your warmth while his cold body cools you back down, he stares up at the ceiling with a lazy smirk. All this song and dance to keep you under his control when it was plainly obvious that it was you who had the lone wanderer wrapped around your pretty little finger. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Word Count: 626

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

- Ky♡♡

[mrsoharaa]

Lol imagining waking up in your shared bed, naked and deeply cozy in the over basking warmth and comfort of freshly washed linen and extensive, strong limbs caging you in securely. a small smile perks at the corners of your lips, embracing the welcoming extorting heat resonating from behind you. little huffs of warm breaths fanning across your ear and cheek, soft snoring following behind each breath.

You hum softly, extending and patting out your free hand to the space in front of you, which should have occupied with another lengthy body. your lips quickly swivel into a disappointed frown, heavy eyes slowly peeping open to see nothing but an empty vast space before you.

You grumble to the distraught sight, wasn't your adoring boyfriend Suguru suppose to be there? entrapping you with his radiating, lulling body heat?

You blink rapidly, shuffling away from the adoring embrace of the limbs lacing over you comfortably. a dragged out, gruffed whine following your sudden adjustment, a large palm nestling onto your bare upper right thigh.

Your head stays on the empty space next to you, now gleaming around the open bedroom for the missing body.

"Lookin' for Suguru love?" you can hear the tiredness in Satoru's gruff morning voice, your attention whipping over and down at the pouting snowy haired man laying next to you, his arm pulling around your hips to bring you back to his towering, burly stature. he croons his face deep into your neck, jesting just beneath the juncture of your jaw, inhaling your sweet, intoxicating scent.

"Mm, do you know where he went?" you'd comb through Satoru's messy, mangled bed head, giggling to his silly, childish groans and whines craning out from his throat.

"Said something about getting us breakfast or something from that new cafe you liked so much down the street" Satoru raises his hazy head up and rest it onto your soft shoulder, soaking in the comfort and softness your skin embellished onto his. rubbing his hands up and down the subtlety of your tender flesh, giving it loving, slow chaste kisses.

his lidded cerulean irises glances up at you, carefully studying your breath taking features. noting the rays of the sun peeking through the shades of your windows cascade beautifully against your complexion. hinting out all of the notable and enchanting little details that drew him (and Suguru) to you with much attentive adoration. the soft orange and yellow hues of the awakening sun decorating your flawless beauty. stirring the boundless love and dire affection he had felt for you, only making him fall even harder for you.

a gentle smile seeps into your cheeks, your hand engulfed into the silky thin tresses of frost, slowly trailing down to the flush of his warm cheek. noting that familiar pondering look start to graze his gorgeous features, earning him a low chuckle from you, brushing away the little straying strands from his contorting, pout growing on his face.

"What's wrong Toru'?" your kindred smile stays on your face, listening to his deep grumble bellow against his chest, his brows knitting in a silly manner, matching his ridiculous pout. he kneads in closer into your soften skin.

"...Why do you always look for Suguru in the morning but never me?" he whips with a slouched look, which only insinuates a genuine giggle from you. the look on his face warming your heart and soul, cupping his face with your hand you'd lean down to kiss his forehead, brushing his hair from his face to do so.

"Toru', I only ask because he wasn't in bed..." you tilt your head slightly, watching the puffing grown man roll his eyes.

"And if I wasn't in bed?! would you ask or look for ME?!" he flushes his face onto your side thigh, puffing out heavy breaths and holding onto you tighter. you laugh again, with more joy and amusement gracing your tone.

"Of course you dummy! why wouldn't I?! wait, don't tell me...are you...are you jealous Toru'?" you trace the tip of your finger tip along to the back of his ear, shuffling with the wavy strands of his fluff hair.

"...Of course not! don't be ridiculous, I don't get jealous" he gruffs out, fishing out another chuckle from you.

"That's debatable" the sound of Suguru's silk voice chimes in, the scent of strong coffee, freshly baked bagels and a hint of cinnamon wafts through the air. Invading through your nose, as pure delight throttles all through your body.

"Oh my god, that smells amazing!" you chirp with enlightenment and excitement, the mixed aromas of deliciousness stirring your body fully awake to it's delicious allure.

A humble smile stretches across Suguru's face, walks over towards the bed and carefully hands you the delectable hot coffee and a napkin filled with a warm bagel tucked inside.

"For you, my dear" he leans forward to give you a tender kiss on to your forehead, earning himself a glowing, grateful smile in return from you.

"Ah, Sugu you're the best! what have we done to deserve you?" you kiss his jaw softly, feeling the snug of Satoru's grasp around you tighten, abruptly tugging you closer over to his side of the bed.

"Oh my god, Satoru...really? he brought us breakfast, stop being ridiculous" you roll your eyes, taking a careful sip of your coffee feeling the graze of his plush lips press into the lush of your skin.

Suguru simply tilts his head in concern, but relishes in Satoru's childishness and selfishness with you. scoffing playfully, Suguru pulls out a steamy freshly baked cinnamon bun from around him, holding it out to Satoru as a peace offering.

Satoru's eyes nearly popped out from their sockets, the pure glimmer and joy that swelled in his brighten eyes, filled Suguru's heart with such adoration and amusement.

"...Alright, you have been forgiven Suguru!" Satoru practically licks away the descending drool dripping down the side of his lips, quickly consuming the delectable cinnamon treat within seconds. a satisfied hum purring against his chest, spiking the sheer glee and elation rising in Suguru's chest. a subtle smile homing onto his face.

[silent-stories]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader

Summary: Astarion fears that he is forcing you to spend the rest of your life in darkness.

Astarion was lying on the bed, next to you, his eyes were staring at an indefinite point on the ceiling and between his eyebrows there were a few more wrinkles, as if he was intensely thinking.

The inn room was comfortable, clean, and scented with lavender. It was nice to finally be able to spend a few days of peace after Cazador's death and sleep in a real bed, next to someone you loved.

You looked at his profile, the curve of his lips, the white curls on the pillow and some falling onto his forehead, the way his chest remained completely still, devoid of a beating heart and air in his lungs.

His ruby ​​eyes looked darker now that they were no longer in daylight and you found yourself thinking that you already missed the way they sparkled when hit by the sun's rays.

You glanced at the window in the room, the curtains were drawn so as not to let in the slightest bit of light, obviously. Ever since Astarion went back to not being able to be in the sunlight, you were always careful about that.

"Is something bothering you, Star?"

You already knew the answer, you knew him, but you didn't want to force any explanation.

"Don't you think you made the wrong choice?" He responded with another question, his voice low.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you think I am the wrong choice?" He continued speaking without looking at you, his pale hands lying one on his stomach and one on his side. You wanted to grab one, kiss his knuckles and play with his fingers in that way that always made him laugh no matter how hard he tried to hold it back.

You decided against it only because he seemed so deep in his thoughts that a sudden touch would start him. You knew that some types of physical contact were still new to him.

"Star-"

"I feel like I'm forcing you to spend the rest of your life in the dark, hiding."

"You're not forcing me, it was my decision to stay with you."

"This is exactly why I ask you: don't you think you made the wrong decision?"

"You will never be-"

He interrupted you.

"I want you to know that if at any moment you realize that this is not the life you want to live, that you are tired of hiding from the sun, I will understand.

And although I may never be ready to let you go, I will, because you deserve to live. You deserve to walk among people, village festivals, going through the markets, you deserve the sun's rays kissing your skin. And I don't want to deprive you of what you deserve, my love. I can't deprive you of living."

The way he spoke and the sincerity in his voice, devoid of any hint of sarcasm and irony, struck you in a way you couldn't quite place and left you speechless.

He was telling you to leave him for your own good.

"As much as I would like to have you next to me for eternity, I find it a too selfish idea. Even for me." He continued, "So I'm telling you, if one day I won't find you lying in bed next to me, don't feel guilty for running away from someone who was limiting you, who was forcing you into the darkness when you wanted to see the world.

I'll understand it. I won't lie and say I won't spend the rest of my days trying in vain to fill the void you left in me, but that won't change my mind. You deserve to live, my love. Not to hide."

He was saying you could go, even though it would cause him pain. That it was more important to know you were happy with someone else than unhappy with him. You wondered if there was a greater sign of love than this.

"My star."

The way you called him, maybe stirred something in him. He turned his head towards you and his gaze finally met yours, his red eyes were big, sad and full of affection.

“I would rather spend the rest of my life in the darkness with you than in the daylight with someone else.”

He slowly moved his body towards you, his hand gently brushing your hip and so you reached out to trace his features with your fingertips, brushing a curl away from his forehead.

You kept talking.

"The world is still alive when the sun goes down, we can go out and live with it. We can see how the moon reflects on the waves of the sea and on the surface of the lakes, we can walk in the woods that only we know, we can try to count the stars and invent new constellations."

His grip around you became firmer but still extremely gentle as he pushed you closer to his body. You put your arms around him in the same way and with your hand you caressed his back, aware that under the light fabric of his shirt, the scars of his past stood out on his skin.

You remembered the day he told you that it was okay, when you touched them, that they hadn't caused him physical pain in years and that, when he felt the tips of your fingers run gently over them, it was as if they were healing for a second time.

"I don't care what we do, as long as we're together. I'm not interested in running away from you because I don't want anyone else. You won't find my side of the bed empty one day, because that's the only place I want to be. You didn't force me to do anything, Star, it was my decision to be with you. And it will be my decision to stay with you every day to follow."

There was a moment of silence, then his lips curved into a slight smile. Almost invisible, but enough to show the tips of his white canines.

“You have always been so stubborn.” He murmured before leaving a kiss on your forehead. It was light and sweet and made you giggle.

"I think you like that."

"Just a bit."

"Just a bit?" You asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Mh-mh."

"Now don't you try to tell me that-"

When his cold lips met yours, you couldn't finish your sentence. The kiss was sweet, full of meaning and slower than usual.

Because in the end, you had all the time.

Because you weren't planning on leaving anytime soon.

[a-simple-imagine]

Don’t They know a Rabbit Can’t Cry - a life once lived

synopsis: ye olden era. The reader is sick so Agatha and Rio look after her but it begins to cause tension between the trio

pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Words: 5.1k+

A/N - you don’t have to read this to follow the main story it’s just me writing whatever I want. This can also be a stand alone. I have a few ideas as to why the reader might be immortal but I can't decide which one I prefer??

WARNINGS - Sickness, brief mention of blood and dying. not period accurate

The luminous sun and rhythmic chirps of overhead birds should have made for the backdrop to a lovingly peaceful afternoon. After days held up in her stuffy cabin, you had pleaded with Agatha to let you go outside. She agreed, eventually, when you convinced her that it would be good to get some fresh air. So the two of you (mostly Agatha) set up a homemade blanket of a deep maroon colour by the side of the lake. Agatha sits reading some dusty old book she's been obsessing over for the past two days. Her legs make for the perfect makeshift pillow as you bask in the warm rays of bright sunlight; drifting. A faint throbbing in the front of your skull. A rattle in your chest with each careful breath. Body heavy. Tired eyes search for hers as you shift somewhat, making sure she knows you are awake.

"how are you feeling?" a question you hear far too often as of late. A soft groan slips into the air as you wrap your arms around her waist. Burying your face in the fabric of her skirt. It was warm. Fresh. Comforting. a faint floral scent that tickles your nose. "oh, sweet girl," a hand comes to trace lightly over your back. "should we head back?" in truth, you probably should but being inside was driving you crazy even if most of your time was spent sleeping.

"no," answered quickly, muffled against her clothes. "I like being out here,"

"I know you do but the chill on the breeze will do nothing for you," Agatha explains. "you should be warm in bed."

"I am plenty warm," it wasn't a particularly cold day. Signs of autumn were only just starting to show. Green leaves beginning to morph into beautiful reds and yellows. A slight cold beginning to infect the wind. Daylight grows shorter. Agatha was right though. The chill was affecting you more than you cared to admit but your stubbornness outweighed her use of logic. "a while longer. please?"

A few stray pats on the back as the older woman gives in. "fine but just until the sun begins to set." the deep blue sky suggests that sunset wouldn't be for a while now so you agree to her terms. Stifling a yawn, you look up at her but her attention is already back on that stupid old book. Bound in a strange leather jacket with symbols you don't understand the book is rather small in size but from this angle covers her face. The pounding in your head becomes a little less intense as you adjust to the bright light of the waking world. You try not to move around too much but your body seeps with discomfort. Shuffling against the blanket, your eyes drift towards the lake. Minuscule waves twinkling in the daytime light. It was slowly becoming too cold to swim these days. Not that you would feel up to it even if it wasn't. It does make for a nice view during picnics or moments of rest.

"What are you reading?" you question, poking the bottom of the book with your pointer finger.

"do you actually want to know or are you merely seeking attention?" her book lowers revealing her twinkling eyes. You debate telling the truth.

"I would like to know," you offer a slight smile. There's a short pause before the book lowers so you can see the pages too. They're yellowed and bent but eligible.

"it is about old magic and healing runes," your finger traces the large symbol on the right page before flipping it over. Even now the idea of magic was still new to you or more so the fact witches weren't ugly, evil women who worshipped the devil and practised dark magic. Agatha possessed magic, rio too; neither of them seemed particularly evil and they were some of the most beautiful people you've come to know.

"healing runes?" you repeat. Smile fading somewhat, you look up to Agatha through your lashes.

Agatha nods a little. A delicate smile. "it is quite interesting. You may read it next if you like. Although I know you prefer stories of fantasy." she closes the book, resting it on your chest. "what is wrong?"

You shake your head. Such a subtle change in expression, you are surprised she even noticed. "I am just tired," she watches you. And for a second you think she is about to push further but alas the subject falls to the wayside.

"As long as you're sure"

There is a moment of pause before you nod. Agatha returns to her book and you adjust so you're staring out ahead of you both. A sense of guilt mixed with an already unsettled stomach. "Agatha," your voice hushed. Almost like you don't want her to hear but she does.

"yes, bunny?"

"do you think I will get better soon?"

"of course."

"do you promise?" you glance up at her but she is once again hidden behind those pages.

"you will not rid of me so easily"

"not sure you have a choice in the matter," but lips curl into a smile. "I hope Rio returns soon."

"as do I," Agatha agrees ultimately setting the book aside when she realises she's not gonna get silence from you. "she can be your pillow for a while."

"do you not wish to bring me comfort?"

"I wish nothing more," Agatha admits, a hand brushing your cheek. "I just would also like feeling in my legs."

With great exertion, you push up. Haze clouding the front of your head. "if I am a bother you can just say,"

"do not push yourself," Agatha expresses. "I speak merely in jest."

"I am sorry for being such a burden."

"you are no such thing."

"but you would tell me if I was?" Agatha nods but you still doubt her words. She was much too kind to admit such things. At least to you anyway.

"rest, my sweet, I am fine."

You lay back down, getting comfortable once more. "can you sing something?"

"Like what?"

You shrug. "anything. Surprise me." her body shakes with a chuckle before her voice fills the space. It's light. It's joyful. It's... "pitchy."

She taps your forehead gently. "if you want me to sing you must keep those comments to yourself." a little chuckle, quickly killed by a cough.

"Sorry. Please continue." and she does. It is a melody you don't recognise. Words you have never heard. But they're soft. Gentle. And wrapped in enough feeling to let your mind drift off.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since you had first fallen ill and yet you continue to suffer. Normally it would go away rather quickly. Whether naturally or with the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, Agatha tried using her magic but it didn't help. Healing just wasn't her speciality. Rio was much better at it but she had been away working for a long while now. You know with each passing day you grow more tired. Even on days when you feel a little better. The day is a little brighter. You know deep down it is temporary. But tomorrow will be worse. After every up comes a seemingly even worse down. Agatha worries for you. She pretends not to. Hides behind frivolous songs and bowls of soup you struggle to keep down but it's there when she thinks you're not looking. It's evident in her small sighs or the fade of her smile. Eyes that look at you like it very well might be the last time. You agreed to stay inside today. Largely too tired and achy to face the outside world. So instead you stay snuggled up in bed while Agatha goes about her day. You're uncertain of the time when you wake again. Weary eyes reluctantly opened to a much too bright cabin. Your head aches. Your limbs hurt. A muted groan as you nuzzle against the pillow. And then you hear her. Agatha. But she's not alone. Another voice that you would recognise anywhere. You rub your eyes as you force yourself up.

"Rio?" a meek inquiry comes out before a chesty cough that shakes your whole body. "you... have returned?"

Rio moves to sit at your bedside. "to see you,"

"you should be resting bunny," Agatha walks up behind Rio. "did we wake you?"

You nod slowly. The pounding in your head was only made nastier by the movement. "you were arguing?"

They glance between each other and then back at you. "how are you feeling?"

"I am fine," you declare, "happy you have come home."

"hmm," she seizes your chin with her hand pushing your head from left to right. Eyes boring into you. "you are lying."

"I am not," you try to shake out of her grasp but it hurts and you can't disguise it. "just a little tired."

"Oh," her grip a little tighter. "so Agatha is the liar? She tells me you have fallen ill."

You shrug a little. "maybe,"

"If it is just resting you need then," Rio lets go, "then sleep."

"But you have just come back," you insist. "I am fine. promise."

"bunny," a clear firm tone advising you to not overdo it. You sigh softly, laying back down.

"I am sorry I didn't have flowers waiting. I have not felt up to it,"

Rio laughs, standing up and tugging the covers back over you. "sleep."

You shut your eyes. Curling up into the warmth of the bed. A stillness envelopes the room. "Rio, will you still be here when I wake?"

"of course," she ensures. You focus on sleeping. Their voices are now but a whisper it's hard to make out their conversation. You periodically hear your name. It matters not.

It hurts deep and sharp in your stomach dragging you from your restless sleep. A cry crawled up your throat. Your eyes open to darkness. It's late. Agatha sleeps beside you. Rio on the other. "bunny?" a tired voice, as Agatha sits up in bed. You collapse into her arms; seeking comfort and her skills. "I got you." this wasn't the first night you had woken up feeling like your stomach was going to explode. Such strong cramping and nausea bring tears to the eyes. The only relief came from Agatha using her purple. She holds you close to her chest. Rocking back and forth slowly. "You are okay."

"what's wrong?" Rio's voice comes later. Less urgency. Waking up a little later.

"help her," Agatha demands

"I can't- what do you want me to do?"

"soothe her," Agatha instructs. "I used my purple already and have not been able to leave her alone."

"Agatha,"

"Rio," she shoots back. "it is simple. There are no rules against this." she shoves you away from her and nausea settles in your stomach. You haven't consumed anything today so there was nothing that could come back up. It would just be gross and toxic. "lay back down. Rio will help make it better," she doesn't wait for a response. A hand against your chest lowers your back against the bed. They exchange a look. "just place your hands on her stomach. Please." Rio eventually does as instructed. Her hand drifts gradually over your lower stomach. A tingling left in its wake, the pain fading. You roll onto your side and seek comfort in Agatha once more. She wraps you up in her arms. "is that a little better?" you nod against her. "do you want me to rub your back?" and again you nod. "do not empty your stomach over me like last time," it makes you smile a little. Agatha shuffles down the bed so she's lying down too. Allowing you to rest against her side. A gentle hand running up and down in slow motion. "go back to sleep, my love."

"how long has this been happening?" rio wonders.

"Long enough," Agatha answers. "you should rest too. She will be fine until morning."

When you wake up the next day, their absences are notable. Your head feels fuzzy but you're grateful that your stomach has resolved at least a little. "Agatha," you call out but instead rio arrives at your bedside, a cup in hand.

"Agatha has gone out," your brow furrows.

"out where- when will she return?" you haven't been without her for a couple of weeks now and the idea unsettles you.

"calm yourself," Rio murmurs. "she'll be back soon enough, now drink,"

"no," replied sharply.

"you must,"

"I do not want to,"

"it will make you feel better,"

"no," you shove her hand away, and some of the liquid slips over the edge. "I don't want any. Where is Agatha?"

A sigh from Rio, "It was Agatha who insisted you must drink some,"

"I do not want it," you huff. "it always comes back up,"

"a small sip and we can be done,"

You watch her before snatching the cup. A small sip of tea. It's warm and earthy. Like drinking soil. You cough as it goes down before handing the cup back. You fall back against the bed and snuggle into the covers. "can we go for a walk?"

"I don't know if that is a good idea?"

"a short one. Just to the far side of the meadow?"

Rio agrees. It's easy to get your way when you're sick. She has a supportive arm around you the whole way letting you collect flowers every now and then. They always looked a little brighter when Rio came home. Like they grew just for her. Once you felt you had enough, she brought you back to sit on the front porch. A blanket draped over your shoulders to protect you from the chill. Each flower is carefully laid out in front of you. Rio is sitting in Agatha's chair. Bouncing a leg and seemingly carving some wood with her blade. "Will Agatha return in the morning?"

"I do not know," Rio responds. "do you not like it being just us?"

"I do, it is just strange being here without Agatha," you express. "this is her home."

"it is our home," Rio corrects. "I just have to travel."

"I know," you reply, glancing at her. Rio was always back and forth in a way Agatha never was. Everything about this place you have come to associate with Agatha and Agatha alone rather than Rio. It was Agatha's chair that she always sat in to have her morning tea. "I hope she returns soon."

"not even a full day without her and you already seek her company once more?" there was a playful edge to Rio's words. "do you miss me as easily?"

"I always miss you," you answer. Each flower was carefully laid out before you. Organised by colour rather than type. You pick one up a purple one. Twisting it between the pads of your forefinger and thumb. "But it is different when Agatha leaves because it is a surprise. What if something happens? I am too ill to assist."

"I will deal with anything," Rio answered back. "I am capable of being left alone and looking after you. Besides she will not be long."

She will not be long? That could mean anything. days. Weeks. Months. You couldn't go months without seeing Agatha. "why didn't she tell me she was leaving?"

"she did not want to worry you. It would not serve you well," Rio explains.

"sneaking away is not better," you huff, stems of green now crushed.

"I am just giving you an explanation," you glance at the wood shavings that surround the other woman. So messy. "I know as much as you." a heavy sigh. There was more to this than they were willing to share but you don't push. Settling for the explanation Rio shared. "are your parents not worried?"

"they do," you hum. Of course, they are worried. "but they trust Agatha as a healer."

"they don't know the truth? Agatha is no healer."

"they would trust Agatha regardless," you explain. "we spend most free time together."

"I forget you two are inseparable," Rio muses softly. Almost sadly. You wouldn't exactly say you are inseparable but you do spend a lot of time together. It made sense. You had lived a pretty sheltered life at home in the woods. The nearest little village wanted pretty much nothing to do with you outside of your business. You only really went to visit the bakery or haggle for supplies. More often than not you're met with dirty looks and hushed whispers. Mean-spirited comments on a bad day. Agatha gave you company outside of just your family. She was beautiful and caring and wanted to spend time with you. She didn't think you were weird or strange but then again she was what a lot of people feared. The only difference between your relationship with Agatha and your relationship with Rio is time.

"you are never here,"

"you exaggerate,"

You shake your head just a little, focused on the crown you are making. "I do not, I-" A tickle in your throat brings a cough from deep within your chest. Loud and dry. Painful. It seems like maybe it'll pass as you grab the handkerchief Agatha insisted you always carried. It was ivory white with hand-sewn stems of green and pretty flowers lining the edges of each corner. But the tickle persists. Spreading through your throat; any attempt to avoid resulting in watery eyes. Rio is immediately knelt by your side. A curious brow. "you okay?" probably not. Giving into the dire need to rid yourself of the feeling in your throat. Each cough builds with a sense of desperation. Raw and dry. Burning from the inside. a much-needed moment of respite seemingly out of reach. You can't stop. A hand slapping against your back is unexpected; it was forceful but not enough to hurt. An attempt to help. The green witch repeats the action a few more times. A body starved of air. It helps. Profound breaths as your eyes flicker to Rio. Wide eyes convey a semblance of concern to her otherwise calm demeanour. Fist tightens around fabric now stained with tiny dots of red and shoved out of view. "we should get you inside."

"I... am fine..." you lie between breaths. You were no better off inside than out. It was merely an attempt to get you back into bed. It's not like being inside was helping in any way.

"That was not fine," Rio insists. Her hand still rests on your back.

"Rio... please..." fixated on the flowers. An almost finished crown. A moment ruined by this unexpected illness. You breathe deeply. Leaning in, the other plants a kiss delicately against your temple.

"Agatha would kill me if something happened to you." whispered against the skin. Warmth shivering through your veins.

You reach for her arm, carefully pulling it away from your body. A shaky small smile on your lips. "it is okay." even with reassurance, you can sense her reluctance to leave you be. A sign she cared too much. Returning to her spot in Agatha's chair not too far away, you can feel her eyes still on you. Watching and waiting. You are grateful Agatha was not here right now to make a fuss. She worries over every little thing. She also probably would have dragged you back inside if she had to. Silence falls as you return to your hobbies. Just a little too uneasy to speak in case another coughing fit occurs. However, with silence comes uneasy thoughts. Thoughts about Agatha leaving you alone with Rio. A sickness that just won't stop. A green witch forced to look after you. "rio?" she just hums some kind of response. "can I ask your opinion on something?"

"If it is about your crown then I will be biased," she urges. "I always like it when your creativity includes flowers."

"it is about Agatha,"

"Is she all you ever talk about?"

"I am serious," you reply.

"what about Agatha?"

"do you think," a moment of hesitation. "she grows tired of me? Is that why she left without saying anything?"

"where does this come from?" rio wonders. Fingers fiddling with the leaves plucked from flower stems. "you are her most precious person,"

"that is not true," it makes you laugh a little. Compared to her relationship with Rio, yours was just a drop in the ocean. You also weren't anything like them. Rio was teasing and confident. A force of nature you weren't sure you would ever figure out. Agatha was commanding but caring. She had a real nacht for making you feel like the most important person in the world. Not to mention they were both witches. They could do remarkable things. You felt like a burden to both of them regardless of your sickness. "she has you."

"she does," Rio agrees. You tear the edge of the leaf pulling straight through until you're left with two parts. "but that does not make you any less than. Why would you think otherwise?"

A shrug of your shoulders. Tearing the rest of the leaf up into tiny pieces and sprinkling them on the ground. "I am not like you. She does so much for me and now she must do even more because of this stupid illness," it wasn't your fault you had gotten sick but that didn't stop you from feeling guilty. So much time was spent reading books about healing. Or making special teas of different soups. Even just ensuring you're comfortable was a challenge that wasted her magic. "she must grow tired."

"you will be better soon."

"you do not know that. Agatha does not know that. I am not even sure I believe that anymore," With a soft sigh, you pluck a petel from its flower. So small. So soft. So delicate. "I wish I could make things better so she does not have to waste energy worrying about me."

"my love," Rio comes to sit beside you on the porch. She takes the plant you have been destroying from your hands. "It is not wasted."

"easy for you to say" you snap. A bitter tone. Rio does not understand. How could she? You get that she has to work and it's important to her but still. How could she possibly understand what it's like for Agatha? or even you? "You're never here."

An arm snakes over your shoulders allowing Rio to pull you against her. and despite your attitude, you melt into the embrace. Your anger is such a confusing emotion. You wish she was around more. You wish you weren't such a burden for Agatha. You wish you weren't sick anymore. A deep breath, you find comfort in the other woman's earthy scent. The way she cradles you against her side. A soft kiss was placed upon your head. "eres todo para mi," whispered against you before she pulled back. "we just want the best for you. This sickness will not last forever."

"so you say," s soft sigh. One way or another this will end but you might just not be around for the latter. A silence settles. Rio is content with sitting on the floor beside you now as she works with wood. You have no clue what she is making. You continue to fiddle with flower stems and small twigs. Weaving them into a beautiful circle to wear. You have had a lot of practice.

"it grows late. We should head inside." you brush yourself off as you stand. Offering a small smile. "for you," the crown of flowers placed gently on her head before she stands too. "I hope you will stay for a while this time."

A gentle smile. "remember how I said I would always return if you will it?" rio reaches for your hand, placing something small and hard in between your palm and hers. "I am grateful you called." her hand slips from yours and she heads for the door. You glance at what she gave you. a small rabbit made of creamy-coloured wood. It was a little jagged in places but no less cute. "come," Rio calls. She stands in the doorway waiting. "I will make us some tea."

Agatha does not return in the morning nor the one after. Rio has been on the receiving end of your bad attitude. Everything was just off. Tea a little too hot. Soup a little too thick. You know it's not her fault; your anger is misguided but irritation was more abundant when your body ached. A constant reminder of how much you just wanted Agatha to return. You missed her dearly. She knew how you liked things. She was much more tender than Rio and that's what you needed when sick. Tenderness. a gentle touch. Rio was trying but it was just grating. It is almost a week before you see her again. She brings all kinds of things with her but mainly herbs. And most importantly her magic. Her purple. She explains that the reason behind her trip was to recharge. Whatever that means. You didn't quite understand how it worked. However, the older witch's return may bring more attempts at comfort. More tea with supposed healing properties. But it does not bring better days. Your sickness seems never-ending. Seeping into your bones. Aches in every muscle. a raging fever. Short little sips of water every minute or so are the only thing that doesn't make you nauseous. Agatha still makes you tea but it's rare you ever drink it. Most days are now spent in bed drifting. Agatha does not dare leave again. Instead sending Rio off on silly errands.

The sun hangs low in the sky. The light in the cabin beginning to dim. You sit upright in bed, cradled in Agatha's too-tight embrace. Her grip on you was bruising. Almost painful. They were arguing. Again. that is all they seem to do these days. The constant back and forth makes your head hurt. You have tried to get them to stop and sometimes they will at least while you are awake. Today is different though. The air feels heavier. Suffocating. Take deep weighted breaths that rattle your chest: your lungs burning. Agatha feels different too. Angrier. More aggressive. Desperate. Rio walks closer, handing over a cup to Agatha.

"This is too hot, she will not drink," Agatha shoves it back. Rio sighs heavily. She could do nothing right these days according to Agatha. Everything was wrong. Her tone is ever so harsh.

"it will cool in time,"

"you could just do it right in the first place," Agatha mutters quietly. "leave it to one side. I will retrieve it later."

"fine," there is silence fora wink before you hear the door. "I am going to tend to the gardens. I will return later." you feel a breeze against your cheek. Cold and brisk. "the mint should be ready."

"no," Agatha urges. "I'm sorry, don't."

"I won't be long. The mint will do her some good."

"you must stay," Agatha insists. "I... I cannot do this alone."

"Whatever do you mean?" if it's a genuine question, it's undercut by an overly sarcastic tone. It was understandable. A breeze cut off by the closing door. "you did not want my help before. I can do nothing correct."

"please rio... just stay," Agatha squeezes you gently and you look up to her. "I... I worry for her."

"I know but-"

"no," snapped. Her grip somehow tenser. You cough a little. "you don't- you do not understand. I fear she needs more than I can give her but you..."

"Agatha," there's a tenderness to Rio's voice despite Agatha's tone. "you know I cannot."

"you have the means to help her,"

"it is forbidden,"

"And since when were rules your priority?" Agatha shoots back. "you share this home with me- this relationship with us. Does that not go against everything?"

"it is not the same thing," Rio responds calmly. "and you know that,"

"It matters not," Agatha sighs. "Rio, please. She gets worse each day and you're the only one who can do anything."

"my love-"

"Don't!" she cautions sharply. "I do not want to hear excuses."

You nuzzle against the older witch's chest,a weak groan. Willing her to quell the arguing. "Agatha," mumbled softly from your lips but she did not pay you much attention even as you tugged on the fabric of her blouse.

"Rio, please," anguish in her voice. You feel the bed dip.

"Agatha. You cannot expect more than I am capable of," Rio's voice was closer now. Agatha's body shifts moving you with her in the process. It's sudden. Makes your head spin.

"do you not value her?" Agatha questions. "lover her?"

"you know I do,"

"then do something- anything," Agatha pleads. "what use is your power if to not help the few who care for you?"

A hand comes to your forehead. It's cold so it must belong to Rio. "she is weak."

"I know," Agatha nods a little. "I- I cannot lose her Rio."

"but the end is not guaranteed." her hand shifts lower, thumb skimming against your cheek. "there is still a chance.”

You begin to drift again. Listening to Agatha's heart beating in her chest. A soothing sound. "leave," Agatha huffs.

"my dear-"

"Now," Agatha snaps. "go... tend to the garden since you care so little." Rio doesn't argue. And doesn't defend herself. You feel her rise from the bed and then the breeze once more. A loud band and suddenly you are alone with Agatha. Her body relaxed as if she had been guarding you from Rio.

"I am sorry," you express gradually. Your voice but a whisper into the early night. "it is my fault you are fighting."

"do not say such foolish things," Agatha hums. "Rio is persistent. She cares more for her duty than anything."

"her duty?"

"I am sorry I cannot heal you," Agatha replies. "I have tried everything but-."

"you do not need to apologise for anything," you interrupt. Tears beginning to form. This was all your fault. You cannot get better. You cannot stop them fighting. And now Agatha blames herself. You never wished to bring hurt to either of them. "maybe if I rest some more, I will get better."

"I am..." she lets out a shaky breath. "sure you will."

"Agatha?"

"yes, bunny,"

"Do not hate Rio," you express warmly, shutting your eyes as you nestle against the older witch. She is trying her best. And sometimes that is not enough, but at least she is trying."

// NEXT

[skepticalkoi-catastrophe]

𝕊𝕜𝕦𝕝𝕝 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: Mutual Friendship, Hinted Mutual Crush, College Au

⚠️Warnings⚠️: None

Word count: 769

𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 [10:45 PM] - "Should I be worried that you know how to replicate fake blood this well? I probably should be, right?" Jinwoo jokes as he enters your dorm room.

You decided to be a killer playboy bunny for the Halloween party tonight. The five-kitchen ingredient mixture drips from your neck as only moments ago you finished your makeup.

"If you want to get bloody tonight, I've got enough to share." You chuckle, placing the bowl of red liquid on your desk. "Where's your costume?"

Originally, it was supposed to be you and your best friend. She got hit with a bad stomach virus the night before and was still in recovery.

He offered to be your plus one once you gave him the news. It's somewhat of a favor he owed you from before. He's dressed in a black cotton button-down, partially unbuttoned, with matching black jeans. Black high-top Chuck Taylor's on his feet.

"My package got delayed, so no Ghostface mask. You're my plan B."

"Plan B?"

He takes a seat at your desk, crossing his arms as he leans back into your chair. "You've got any ideas?"

You squint, trying to picture a look at him. Something that would take no time at all.

"A Skeleton." You snap your fingers, having an 'aha' moment.

His mouth curled into a smile as he nodded, lifting his shoulder in a half shrug. Digging through your makeup bag, whatever wasn't in there was strewn about.

Your posters, tapestries, and post-it notes with reminders and daily affirmations on them catch his attention. Everything had a similar color palette, from your sheets to your laundry basket to your rug beside your bed. It made him wish he'd stop by more often.

"Do you want me to paint your neck and chest too?" You asked, sizing him up as you organized your brushes and body paints.

Your question hangs in the air. He hasn't had his face painted since he was a child. Tonight was the one night he could be truly himself. Carefree and stupid like every other twentysomething. Based on your makeup alone, he knows he's in good, capable hands.

Jinwoo scoots forward in your chair.

"Yeah, go all out. Make me a skeleton."

You smirk, standing between his legs. Raking your fingers through his hair, you attach two larger hair clips. His exposed forhead meets a cooling sensation from your primer. Its slushy to then tacky consistency threw him off.

You trace a black outline around his eye sockets, whispering for him to close his eyes. He does so, allowing you to deepen the shadows. Drawing on his nasal cavities and each tooth across his upper and lower lip, you're deathly close. Your thumb smudges away any mistakes, much to his confusion. He almost thought you were doing it on purpose. Almost.

Down his neck, your thin brush goes as he twitches a tad. "Are you ticklish?" You take a go at him. There was no reply. He merely blinks and scoffs.

You keep going, carving out each spinel vertebrae. From the cervical to the thoracic vertebra, brushstrokes flowed into his ribcage. His toned chest surprises but doesn’t shock you. Guess all that excessive training paid off.

"Tell me, what made you take this route this year?" A cheeky grin plastered across his face. "Never would've thought you were one for the classics."

"Classic easy access, you mean?" You joke, applying the white body paint next. It fills in the shaped skull of his face like an X-ray. Your brush strokes earn another twitch out of him.

"Jin, quit moving, or you're gonna look like shit." You huff, sucking your teeth.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I can't help it. It feels weird."

His mischievous glint in his eyes trails up and down your neck and exposed chest.

"I guess I'm playing guard dog tonight, too? All things considered?"

"If you're looking for an excuse to kick some guy's ass for looking at me too hard, be my guest. You don't need my permission."

You straightened your stance, making sure every marking was symmetrical. Up went your thumb. It splits his face into two halves. Closing your right eye, your tongue sticks out from between your lips.

He leans his head to the left, taking your thumb in his larger hand and pulling you forward.

"Whaddaya doing?"

"Admiring my work, you're one hell of a canvas." You thread a hand through his hair, removing the hair clips. His bangs flow back where they were.

Jinwoo rises from your chair. His hand never lets go of yours, nor does he break his gaze.

"Paint me again sometime, yeah?"

If you enjoyed it, please comment, like, and reblog!

Divider created by @cafekitsune

A/N - HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃

[innorogers]

Hypnagogia

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: How could you ever think, for a second, that he’d want to be with anyone else?

Warning: Fluff / He had an ex / Strategic mastermind Steve

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk

The room was painted gold and white, sunlight penetrating through the glass wall, leaving a trace on the table, drawing a clear line between shadow and light. The air was cold—the AC was so strong that anyone who entered the room would feel a chill. 

Steve’s fingers tapped on the desk as he observed the dust dancing in the air, making nonsensical but beautiful twirls and circles, driven by the movement of the air.

The ray of sunlight moved slowly but eventually settled on his finger, causing a sparkle to reflect off the walls from the simple silver ring he was wearing. The reflection hit the wall like a starlight, and that made him smile.

He was relaxed, confident, and content. His body still echoed with the sensations from your night together, and a barely visible curve appeared on his lips as his eyes caught the ring’s reflection.

No one else in the room noticed, except for Commander Hill, who was sitting in front of him. And she felt so sorry for General Ross, the UN Secretary, projected on the screen and connected to this meeting.

Everyone could tell that Steve was in a good mood. His polite smiles and gentle diplomatic words suggested a calm, serene, and approachable Captain.

But Maria knew better.

When Steve was relaxed and calm, he became even more dangerous. That state allowed him to assess threats, predict outcomes, and shift the momentum of any confrontation with a single command.

He’d become a master symphony conductor of chaos, orchestrating every maneuver with grace and confidence. In that state of calm, Steve could decipher not only the strengths of his allies but also their vulnerabilities, using that knowledge like a painter, artfully blending raw power with disciplined strategy.

He could read a war room like a map—the ebb and flow of combat were as clear to him as written instructions, allowing him to think several steps ahead of his enemies.

Just like he was doing right now. The silence that filled the room had lasted for more than three minutes. The tension was palpable, yet Steve, the one who had initiated this standoff between both sides, was staring at the wall, following the reflection of his own ring like an idiot. 

Maria almost grinned. Steve knew exactly what he wanted, and wasn’t going to back down. He was still, unwavering. Like a panther poised to strike, he waited, while the UN Secretary-General on the screen was losing his shit.

Thaddeus Ross looked just as Maria remembered him before the Civil War—probably because he hadn’t aged during the Blip. He wore that familiar expression of pain, frustration, and anger, the same one he always had whenever he had to meet with Steve. He would have much preferred having this conversation with Tony, but Tony would sooner lick a rusty nail than be present in this meeting.

“Captain Rogers, we appreciate the Avengers’ cooperation and all that you’ve done for the world… for the universe.” Ross sighed, rubbing his temples. 

Maria looked down, suppressing a smile. 

Here we go.

“But let’s be clear. Agent Frazer is a trusted MI6 operative and a respected diplomat. Accusations like this require hard evidence, not speculation. We need to know exactly what happened on your end and why he’s being held.”

“I understand your concerns, Secretary, but this isn’t a simple matter of diplomacy gone wrong. Agent Frazer isn’t who you think he is anymore. Something changed when he entered our compound.” Steve replied, rubbing his thumb along the ring, his tone slipping into full Captain America mode.

“Changed?” Secretary Ross was losing his patience. “Like… a chameleon? Look, you’re holding an international agent without concrete proof. I need more than your word to justify this to our affiliate nations.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to need evidence when half the people in this room disappeared because a purple raisin snapped his fingers, did you?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid our word is actually the one thing you can rely on.”

Maria spoke up before Ross lost his shit over that comment: “He was fitted with a retinal device that was transmitting data. Whatever was sent, it wasn’t the actions of a regular agent. We traced it to a secure hub that's heavily encrypted. We’re not accusing without reason.”

“Oh…A retinal device?” Ross’s face was straightforward ‘are you kidding me’: “And do you really believe that the Brit Intel possesses this kind of tech? Who does this stuff besides you or Wakanda? Ok…” He put a hand on his forehead: “Where is it? This retinal device?” 

“We can’t share it yet.” Steve responded. “There are elements of this that go beyond a single agent. Frazer might not have been acting on his own, and he might not even be fully aware of what’s been done to him.”

“Oh…Oh…You can’t share it?” Ross nodded sarcastically, feigning understanding. 

“Sure, I’ll just go and tell the 216 representatives that you’re not ready yet. We should just sit and wait until you feel prepared. You’re holding and interrogating a UN Special Unit agent and accusing him of espionage and treason—those are serious claims, Rogers! And you’re still not providing actual evidence!” He nearly slammed the table in frustration.

But Steve remained immovable, now resting his hand on his jaw, his lips grazing the ring as if observing Ross’s imminent meltdown with mild amusement. He waited for Ross to calm down before speaking again, his tone patient.

“We’ve seen this kind of manipulation before. This technology—it’s something we’ve encountered from organizations that use people like Frazer as pawns. If we give you the full picture, we risk exposing more than we can afford right now.”

That’s a nice way of saying: I’m not revealing my girlfriend’s information to you, assholes. Maria tried to suppress her smile, keeping her expression serious.

“That sounds suspiciously like speculation.” Ross countered, his temper barely under control. He couldn't believe how difficult it was to reason with Steve and was amazed Stark ever put up with it.

“It’s not.”

Of course it is.

“Well, Captain, you’re implying this goes beyond Frazer, but without solid evidence or a proper investigation, you’re asking us to take this on faith. That’s a dangerous request, and we can’t accept that.”

You say that, but you’re exactly where Steve wants you. Maria thought, watching with awe. She had worked with some of the greatest tactical minds, but Steve’s natural ability to manipulate the flow of situations still amazed her.

“It’s not an act of faith.” Steve replied diplomatically. “I understand the difficulties of your position, Secretary. I’m asking you to trust our judgment. You know the Avengers don’t act without cause. We’re not holding Frazer out of suspicion alone. Something’s been compromised—maybe even within your own ranks. If you push too hard for full disclosure, we might end up tipping off whoever’s behind this.”

Ross’s expression shifted.

There it is. Maria noted. The bait was set.

“Are you suggesting there’s been a breach within the UN itself? That’s a serious accusation, Captain.”

Steve sighed. “It’s not an accusation—it’s a possibility. This is bigger than Frazer. If we’re wrong, we’ll take the heat. But if we’re right and this gets out before we can stop it, more than just Frazer’s life will be at risk.”

Ross sat back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Maria held her breath. 

Everything was unfolding exactly how Steve wanted.

“Look, Rogers, I’m bending over backward here. I could escalate this to the Security Council, or worse, handle it diplomatically—which wouldn’t end well for the Avengers. But I’m offering a compromise, and you should think about it carefully.”

Steve remained impassive, his gaze steady on the screen, waiting for Ross to continue.

“You bring Agent Frazer to the UN Headquarters.” Ross leaned forward, as if offering something generous. “And we’ll conduct a joint interrogation. Your people, our people—all present. We’ll see everything firsthand, no secrets, no games. It’s a big concession on my part, but I’m willing to do it for the sake of transparency.” Ross crossed his arms, clearly expecting Steve to appreciate the ‘favor.’

Maria raised an eyebrow. 

Checkmate.

It was exactly what Steve had wanted—moving Frazer to a controlled environment, where they could monitor both him and the UN’s reactions.

“That’s a reasonable compromise, Secretary.” Steve replied after a long pause, offering a diplomatic nod, his expression neutral, his voice steady. “We’ll escort Frazer to the UN HQ and work with your team. But remember, once that interrogation starts, what comes out might not be something anyone’s ready for.”

Ross exhaled heavily, convinced he had won. 

“Good. I’ll notify the necessary parties. The UN appreciates your cooperation, Captain.”

“Sure.” Steve responded calmly, watching as Ross disconnected from the meeting.

As soon as the screen went dark, Maria couldn’t help but smile. “Finally, something went as expected.”

Steve leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips. He pulled out his phone, ready to text you, but paused for a moment, sighing.

“Just hope I don’t regret this mission.” he murmured, referring to bringing you to the UN HQ with the team.

“Oh, come on, she’ll be fine.” Maria said, rolling her eyes as she began organizing the documents scattered across the table. “Don’t make me go over this again.”

“What are you worrying about?” Sam called from the other side of the room. “I think it’s a great idea. She goes undercover, uses her powers to check for secret passages, weapons, surveillance—anything shady. And if someone’s controlling Frazer, maybe she can pick up on it, and we can trace it from there.”

“Thank you, that’s exactly what I said.” Maria agreed, gathering the last of the files and opening the door for them. “And Ross is right, you know. Every piece of tech we have? She’ll be wearing it. We’ll make sure she’s fully covered. Plus, we’re all going, and you’ll be stuck to her like a fridge magnet on Bucky’s arm, so stop worrying.”

“Well, now that the mission is settled, let’s get to the important stuff.” Sam winked as they walked down the hallway, throwing an arm around Steve’s neck. “So? I see a ring on your finger. Is that… the ring? Engagement, maybe? So soon?”

Steve chuckled, walking ahead: “What else it would be?”

“Of course it’s not an engagement ring!” you protested, blushing as Dr. Lin examined your finger with far too much excitement.

“It’s a high-frequency, multi-sensorial ring capable of real-time biometric and geospatial transmission, with micro-electromechanical systems that monitor and broadcast vital stats, and GPS included.” You repeated the clarification Steve had given you.

“Ew!” Robert dropped your hand like it was burning. “It’s a tracking device?!” 

His eyebrows shot up with incredulity: “Honey, I thought your ‘not-my-boyfriend’ was just some fling avoiding responsibility, but now…I’m worried. Is he some kind of psycho? This thing is connected to an app, isn’t it? So he can track you? Wait… does he work here? I bet HR would love to hear about this.”

“He’s not a psycho!” You laughed, finding his conclusion hilarious. “Far from it.” You said as admiring the way the ring caught the sunlight.

“Okay, sweetie? No. Nononono. This is NOT normal.” Dr. Lin leaned back in his chair, shutting down your screen and rearranging the desk so you were facing him. 

“Listen, I think we’re walking on thin ice here. Now, give me his name. No more secrecy. If I know him, I’ll tell you everything. If I don’t…I’ll hack into the employee system and dig up all his dirty little secrets. Come on, chop chop. This is serious—how did you even agree to this?”

Too caught up in his horror, Dr. Lin didn’t notice the whispers in the back of the lab or your co-workers discreetly pulling out their phones to take pictures. Neither did you.

“It’s just for a short period…” You explained. “It’s for my safety, so he knows I’m okay.”

“That’s what all manipulative stalkers say!”

“Aww, Robert.” You were touched by his genuine concern. “You’re so sweet for worrying about me.” You rubbed his shoulder. “But really, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing, he is fine.”

“Says the girl who only interacts with plants and has zero social life.” Robert shook his head. 

“Look sweetie, I don’t want to see you on the news, floating in the Hudson in a garbage bag, okay? Now give me his name.” 

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the employee database. “Is he an agent? Because that seems like something an angry agent would do… Here, let me do some background checks…” His voice trailed off when he looked up to see Steve standing beside him.

“Good afternoon.” Steve greeted, smiling politely.

“C-Captain.” Robert blinked, glancing around to make sure he was in the right place. “Um, this is the R&D lab, Cap.” What are you doing here? Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark are regulars, but you?

“I know,” Steve replied with a polite nod and leaned down pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Hey you ready? The car’s waiting.” He naturally picked up your bag and took your hand, nodding again to Dr. Lin. “Robert.”

You know my name?! 

Dr. Lin was jaw dropped as you were held by Steve and left with a wave and a smiling ‘I’ll see you later’, he also had to squeeze down a scream like a fangirl when Steve put his arm around your shoulder and gave you another kiss.

“That was… dramatic.” You laughed as Steve pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“More dramatic than your ‘Revelio’ moment?” Steve chuckled. “No, I think we’re fine.” He took a deep breath. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. At least now, whoever’s after you might think twice before making a move.” His grip on your hand tightened as you walked toward the car. “Come on. Let’s go over the plan one more time before we enter the lion’s den.”

“Ugh…” you groaned. “Again?”

The cars pulled up to the United Nations Headquarters in New York, the convoy blending seamlessly into the pulse of flashing lights and bustling streets. Sleek black vehicles came to a smooth stop in front of the ionic compound, its towering glass façade reflecting the late afternoon sun as flags from every nation fluttered in the breeze.

You couldn't help but smile.

Ever since Natasha had pulled you out of Siberia and Tony had done everything in his power to ensure your freedom, walking these streets –or any streets–  still felt like a gift. You never missed a chance to take it all in, but every time the city’s buzz—the constant hum of people, the soft melody of urban life—hit you, it was like this  invisible symphony that no one else could quite detect. It was overwhelming and yet comforting at once, as though the very chaos of the outside world was an affirmation that you were part of it. 

You stepped out of the car with Steve, Sam, and Maria close behind, as normal as always, if it weren’t for the human shield they were forming around you.

You were equipped with the latest Stark technology: retinal lenses calibrated to detect even the smallest anomalies, neuro-memory transmission implants capable of syncing with your mind (and Jarvis plus Friday), and discreet sensors were embedded into your gear, capturing and relaying data on anything that might emerge from the shadows. Everything Bruce and Tony had invented, inspired by your unique abilities, had been utilized, enhancing its powers.

And of course, Steve had insisted you wear the latest in protective gear, woven with advanced fibers that could withstand almost any physical impact. It was sleek, lightweight, and practically invisible—more like a second skin than armor.

But the reassurance in Steve’s eyes when he saw you wearing it was unmistakable. You’d sharpened your powers over time, and this was far from your first mission, but nothing made him worry less. He hated unpredictable situations, especially when it came to you.

You began to scan the surroundings. The heightened senses kicked in, eyes sharpening as you observed the compound. Your gaze fixed on the walls, seeing beyond the layers of concrete and steel, into corridors filled with armed security, advanced surveillance systems, and hidden passageways. Your mind – and everything Tony put on you– cataloged every detail: a vault hidden below the west wing, an array of weapons stored in an underground chamber, a strange device tucked behind a sealed door you couldn’t quite identify, but it wasn't a threat, just something heavy. Ew, was someone having sex in the basement? Well…who are you to judge?

As you reached the delegation, Steve stood tall, projecting calm authority as he greeted Thaddeus Ross.

“Secretary Ross, we appreciate your cooperation in handling this situation together. Agent Frazer is in your custody now.” He nodded as the car that held Agent Frazer with maximum care entered the building.

“Good to see everything went smoothly, Rogers.” Ross said, his eyes sweeping over the group. “Let’s hope this brings us closer to the truth.” Whatever the fuck that is.

“I’m sure it will.” Steve affirmed, his tone steady. “Commander Hill and I will be part of the joint interrogation. Captain Wilson and Dr. Lancaster are here specifically for the New Era Project.” He glanced at you and Sam, who both nodded in silent acknowledgment. “I believe Tony mentioned it before our arrival.”

Secretary Ross scowled, but Steve’s logic was irrefutable. The New Era Project was a groundbreaking collaboration between the Avengers and the UN, designed to bridge the gap between their efforts and resources. 

Both sides would exchange personnel—scientists, strategists, and field agents—to oversee, analyze, and integrate their respective strengths. It was more than just oversight; it was a mutual exchange of knowledge and expertise, aimed at building something greater together. Although fraught with tension, the project promised mutual benefit—Stark Industries’ cutting-edge tech paired with the UN’s global infrastructure.

But right now? Steve was doing what Steve does magnificently —controlling the situation like a puppeteer with his invisible strings of strategy.

Secretary Ross also knew through Tony how Steve was resisting this initiative, and Stark wasn’t going to risk starting Civil War 2.0 over any UN proposal, even though this time they were actually really considering humanity’s future and peaceful, technological solutions. 

But yet, here was Captain Rogers, offering two agents himself for cooperation on this project.

How could he say no?

“Fine.” F-You Rogers, F-You. Ross said with a forced smile: “But since Agent Frazer’s mission had been…a failure, I’m sure there will be no opposition from you if we send other agents, right?”

“As long as they aren’t brainwashed before coming in, I think we’ll be fine.” Steve patted the Secretary’s shoulder, joking a bit to ease the situation and ignoring the “Fuck you is not funny” face Ross just made.

“C’mon, let’s keep the wheel moving,” Secretary Ross growled.

You were walking a few steps behind him, both of your rings hidden in your pockets. Wearing them at the Avenger’s Facility? That was fine, where everything was under control and not a fly would pass by unnoticed, but here, neither you nor Steve wanted to be the spotlight of distractions or gossip that could lead to unanticipated events.

As the entire delegation began to move inside. The Secretary started the introductions of their side: “Dr. Yamato, head of Criminal Minds and War Behavior Analysis.” Ross gestured toward a sharp-eyed woman with a composed demeanor. “She’s one of the best in psychological warfare and behavioral profiling.”

“Colonel Marcus Bryant, specialist in Military Strategy and Hostage Negotiation.” He said as the Colonel gave a brief nod.

“And finally, Agent Elena Vasquez, cybersecurity and intelligence expert.” Ross introduced a woman with a sharp gaze and quick reflexes. “She’ll be handling the tech side of this, tracking any potential data leaks or anomalies.”

There were a few more nods exchanged, each member of the delegation poised for the task ahead.

As they reached the main entrance, another figure approached with confident strides. Ross turned to introduce her.

“And this is Agent Sharon Carter, head of Diplomatic Security.” Sharon, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, extended a hand with a polite smile.

“Captain.” She greeted Steve with professional ease. Her voice was polite, and nothing in her demeanor was out of line, but the familiarity between them didn’t escape your notice. There was a warmth in her eyes—a brief flicker of something that hadn’t entirely faded.

There was history there, subtle but unmistakable.

“Sharon. It’s good to see you.” Steve shook her hand with a warm smile. “You look great.” Though his focus never wavered from the mission at hand, a hint of something unspoken passed between them.

Your stomach tightened for just a moment, a flash of curiosity and unease passing through you, but you quickly refocused as Ross motioned everyone toward the compound for the formal debriefing. Sharon and Steve moved on, her interaction flawlessly professional, but that brief moment still lingered with you.

The UN HQ was as imposing as expected, but a day inside the building wasn’t enough to scan the entire place. You had superpowers, but is not like you are a machine, duh. And even with Stark’s enhanced tech, nothing new came up on your radar. Of course, you'd discreetly planted a tracking device for Tony to hack into their systems, but that was child’s play for him—he’d hacked SHIELD years ago, and the UN wasn’t much more of a challenge.

You frowned as you walked alongside Sam for what felt like the fifteenth lap through the hallways, waiting for the interrogation to wrap up.

Oh…this is so unfortunate. This building had the new edgy architecture style, encouraging horizontal workspaces and transparency through their walls of glass. So you could see… Steve and this gorgeous, agile, fierce, super-intelligent, attractive-as-hell Agent Carter chatting, sometimes chuckling, patting his shoulder.

What could they be talking about? “Oh, you’re so beautiful, like a golden rose in a summer garden. Look at you with that sexy-as-hell black suit and fine stilettos. Would you have dinner with me? Oh what? No, I’m not in a relationship, just with some weirdo that talks to plants and has x-rays in her eyes.”

“You know…” Sam was observing how your fingers were tapping on the desk over and over, maybe mumbling some unhearable words in a language he couldn’t understand. So he said in a very low voice, “That’s way in the past, okay? Things just didn’t work out for them. I think they didn’t even try… It was chaotic during the Sokovia Accords, running away, homeless, going from here to there, hiding in Europe… And then, the Blip. No one had the mood to be in a relationship… Well, not that I know, I was out in a limbo. But still, I think that’s like…so over.”

“WHAT?” It took you like 30 seconds to actually process what he was talking about. “They were…? They were…dating? In a relationship?”

Sam opened his mouth. And then closed it. And then he stood up.

“I’m gonna get some coffee. You want some? You look like you could use some coffee…yeah, so I’m just gonna…alright.”

And he was out. Leaving you with your jaw dropped. But then you looked back to the interrogation room and everything just made sense.

Oh my God. These two would have beautiful and incredibly blonde kids with that perfect silky skin, tall silhouette, gracious walk. If it’s a boy, it would be like Steve Rogers 2.0, and a girl would totally be Miss Americana. They’d be like this perfect cliché advertisement poster with the house in the countryside, white fences, a backyard full of roses, Sunday barbecues, a golden retriever, and kids playing baseball.

And what would you do? Well…if you survive this dark hidden organization that’s highly likely to use, torture, and experiment on you, maybe you could ask for a transfer to Wakanda. You never met Princess Shuri,  but Tony speaks so well about her, and the projects they have over there are so amazing.

You wouldn’t have to see Steve’s wedding of the century if you were in a cage in the woods, right? And the weather there is so good for the plants, oh you could finally have the Epiphyllum oxypetalum you’ve always wanted. And if anything, you could talk to it until you are old.

And Bucky is in Wakanda too! You’ve never met him, but hey, you could always bond over “remember those days we got two shots of electrowave in our bodies so we could get those injections that made us recover faster? Old times, huh?”

Yeah, that sounds okay. You could live with a broken heart; people do that all the time, right? Your body and mind were already quite shattered, so it wouldn’t matter if your soul and heart was a fucking mess too. You nodded as you decided and looked up at Sam, who was approaching with two coffees in his hands.

“Do you think Tony would allow me to take my plants to Wakanda?”

“What?” The Falcon hesitated for a moment, then he switched the coffee he was handing you: “Okay, girl, take the decaf.”

“Hey.” Steve’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts as he approached, his hand lightly brushing your arm. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left the interrogation room. “We’re ready to go. We’ll probably have two or three more of these sessions, but we can’t keep the interrogation going forever. Maria will stay here for this shift, and Nat will take over tomorrow... hey, you alright?”

“What?” You realized you were biting your fingers. “Oh, um… yeah, it’s unusually quiet over here. Nothing’s happening, no extra readings, no signs of any… vibrations or energies in the air. We’ve covered everything we needed.” You actually had more than needed, but there were high frequencies in the air—signs of recordings—so you didn’t want to give too many details.

Steve nodded as he observed you giving a final look around the place. He knew what you were implying, so he tilted his head toward the exit. “I’ve already said my goodbyes, so we’re good. Let’s go.”

‘Your girl is concerned. You might want to talk to her.’ Sam gave Steve a look, the kind of Avenger’s sign-language they used for silent communication as they were walking out.

‘What?’ Steve didn’t get a thing what Sam was trying to say with those rolling eyes.

‘I said she seems upset, maybe talk to her… about stuff.’ Sam insisted.

‘You want me to hire more staff?’ Steve gave up, opening the door for you. “You suck at this, Sam.”

“Look, man…” Sam laughed, raising his hands. “You know what? Forget it.” Oh, he was going to enjoy this later. But then his phone pinged with an incoming message, and he frowned, showing it to Steve. “Hey, I’ll take this one.”

“I seriously doubt it’ll lead us anywhere, but yeah, go ahead,” Steve nodded. It was an army contact from Sam’s, probably had something to spill about Agent Frazer’s past. “I’ll see you at home.” There was no chance he was leaving you alone.

“Tony is sending the Iron Army to escort you.” Sam said, checking another message just like Steve’s: “Y’all wait for it, alright? Keeps me chilled.”

“Yup, think that’s the best.” Steve agreed, looking up at the sky as he nodded.

It was a long drive from the UN HQ back to the compound, but you were grateful for the journey. You always enjoyed watching the view outside the window, the streetlights passing by, tracing lines along the highway at night. The smooth, steady movement of the car always calmed your mind.

Steve noticed your unusual silence. You’d been so excited on the way there, but now you were lost in your thoughts—and not in the good way he remembered. Your gaze was fixed on the traffic lights outside, your face shadowed by the night.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He lowered the AC and took your hand; you were freezing.

You sighed. You were never good at lying or hiding your thoughts from him, especially when you were pouting, sad, and... angry?

“I don’t want you to break up with me and leave me. I’ll have to go to Wakanda… and I’ll end up digging Vibranium and talking to flowers and succulents for the rest of my life.”

“What?!” Steve nearly hit the brakes, torn between looking at you and driving safely. “Wh—what are you talking about? Why would I…” Didn’t he propose just yesterday? You seemed so happy this morning, looking at the shining ring and all. What happened…? Ohh! He remembered Sam’s muted signals and connected the dots.

“Babe… no…” He reached for your hand, noticing your eyes starting to redden. “It’s not what you think, okay? Look, I... I would never...” He was surprised, a little frustrated, and also... amused.

Were you jealous? He wanted to comfort you, but he couldn’t help the small smile creeping up. Did you care this much?

“But… why would you go to Wakanda?” He drove with one hand, gripping yours tightly with the other. He loved your comebacks, but he was always intrigued by your reasoning behind them.

“You’re right.” You looked down. “I wouldn’t go. I’d rather stay here and watch you fall for someone else than… than not see you at all.” The thought stung more than you expected, a pang in your chest as you almost sobbed.

“Hey… no, what are you even thinking?” Steve’s arm slid around your shoulders. “Come on, don’t say that. I’d never… that I could even look at anyone else?”

“Well, why wouldn’t you…” You grabbed a tissue and wiped your nose. “Prettier, hotter, smarter, taller, incredibly talented, agile, fierce, stunning legs, beautiful smile… impeccable résumé and…” You mumbled the most important part: “...memories.”

“I don’t live in the past.” Steve said after a pause. He almost never used your full name, and when he did, you knew he was serious. His hand gripped yours firmly, refusing to let go. Not now, not ever.

“I just want you. Don’t ever think I’d look for someone else because…” He glanced at you, smiling. “You’re…”

Before he could finish, you caught sight of a blinding light approaching behind him—fast, like a bolt of lightning.

“Brakes!” You yelled just as a fiery laser shot streaked past, slamming into the ground ahead. The explosion sent debris flying, and a smoking crater appeared in the middle of the road.

Steve reacted instinctively, throwing his arm in front of you to keep you from lunging forward as the car screeched to a halt.

The vehicle skidded wildly, barely stopping in time. He swerved hard, tires screeching again, and the car bolted down the highway at full speed.

“Was that the Iron Army?!” Steve growled, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel tighter. “I thought they were escorting us?” His words trailed off as a series of rapid beeps echoed inside the car. The HUD on the dashboard flashed red, and in an instant, the Iron Army drones, which had been circling above, descended into a tight formation, blocking the road ahead with weapons locked.

“Go! Gogogo! I’ve got the comms!” You shouted looking back, bracing yourself as the car jerked from side to side. Your fingers flew over your mobile device, checking the connections. “System’s down.” You pressed your earpiece, connecting to Jarvis through a secondary hub. “Jarvis?!”

“There’s more incoming—hold tight!” Steve warned over the growing roar of engines as he dodged fire from the drones, veered sharply to avoid incoming fire, weaving the car in zigzags as explosions rocked the pavement next to you.

“Those drones have tracking sensors!” Now why the fuck you developed them to be so damn perfect?! You cursed under your breath, ducking as another drone whizzed overhead, firing a barrage of missiles. 

The impact sent the back wheels of the car into the air momentarily before Steve hit the gas, speeding through traffic.

“Comms down. We’ve been compromised.” You said as ripping out the chip from your phone and chucking it out the window. Reaching for Steve’s, you disabled it too. “These things have trackers.”

“We’re on our own.” Your eyes darted across the highway as you quickly scanned the drones’ movements. 

You leaned toward Steve, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Babe, I need you to trust me and do exactly what I say…”

He shot you a sideways glance, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes despite the chaos. “Oh that’s a first…”

“Take the next exit!” you commanded, spotting a key weakness. The car swerved down the off-ramp, taking a sharp turn under the bridge. “Now, slow down.”

“Slow down? We’re being chased by killer robots!” Steve’s voice was filled with disbelief, but he followed your instruction.

“Trust me.” You said, scanning the crumbling infrastructure above. “I’m going to make them hit that column over there. It’s weak, and when it falls, the impact will throw us out onto the next street. Just take that street after, and we’ll be free. Ready?”

Steve gave you a quick, impressed nod. Fuck, he was so turned on. “Ready.”

“Now, slow down and punch it!” 

The car came to an unnerving crawl before Steve slammed the gas pedal again. The drones locked onto the car, unleashing a barrage of fire at the bridge’s support column. It crumbled in an explosion of concrete and steel just as you predicted. The impact sent the car soaring forward as debris rained down around you. In a controlled swerve, Steve navigated through the chaos, landing on the next street.

“Shit, that was close…” You glanced back as the explosion faded in the distance.

Despite the situation, Steve couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head in awe. How could you ever think, for a second, that he’d want to be with anyone else?

“Drones,” You suddenly noticed, approaching from a side street. “Babe, turn left.” You were using your powers to their maximum potential. “Empty street on the right, go around it.” You clicked the back of your ear, and the lenses you wore enhanced your readings. “Iron Army on our twelve. We gotta ditch the car.”

“I don’t think…” Steve slammed the brakes as the car drifted, barely missing a wall by inches. Dark shapes of drones were closing in fast, their red targeting lights flickering ominously through the night. Then, up ahead, you saw it—the Iron Army.

Shots fired from the drones, hitting the pavement near the car. Sparks flew as explosions rocked the street around you, and the army of hacked robots was approaching by air.

“Go straight!” you shouted, just as Steve hit the gas, forcing the car into a sharp turn down a narrow alley. You braced yourself as the vehicle skidded around the corner, barely avoiding the collapsing dumpsters.

“It’s a dead end!” Steve said as the headlights illuminated a brick wall.

“Undo your seatbelt, drift at the end, and give me your hand!” you ordered, eyes fierce with determination as you watched the enemies surrounding the car. 

You blinked at him and added, “Will a minute be enough to disappear?”

Inspired by your confidence, Steve sighed with a smile. “It’ll have to be.” He held his breath slightly as the end of the alley neared. The tires smoked as the car drifted, nearly lifting off the ground, and everything happened so fast, yet so slow.

The car took a side hit from the attack right as it lifted off the ground, fishtailing through the air. With his seatbelt undone, Steve was thrown from the seat. He grasped your hand tightly as you both were flung away.

The Stark Tech Tony and Bruce implanted in your palm activated, covering your hand like a second skin. A repulsor blast shot out, and with that surge of energy, you both were propelled in the opposite direction.

Steve’s instincts kicked in, and he hugged you tightly, shielding you from the impact. At the same time, you raised your other hand, shattering the glass with another blast, saving him from harm. You both tumbled through a building’s window as the car exploded behind you.

Steve landed on top of you, protecting you with his hands and body, his face covered in ash and sweat. But he laughed, even while panting heavily. His heart was racing, resting on your shoulders as he caught his breath.

“Oh…” You panted too, your heart racing. “That was close…”

“God…” Steve grinned, laying his forehead against yours, utterly relieved and impressed. “You have no idea… how much I fucking love you.” You wonderful, perfect, incredible genius. His heart was about to explode with all the pride and love he felt at the moment.

“Yup, me too. Come on. We gotta move.” You noticed the Iron Army and drones’ lights behind the smoke of the explosion. “That fire will cover our temperature scans, but not for long. Come on, over here.” You quickly got up and held his hand as you exited the building.

“Here, I need you to throw this, with all your strength, as high as you can.” You reached into your jacket, pulled out a small spherical device, and handed it to Steve. He threw it with a quick flick, hurling it high into the air. The second it reached its peak, the device burst open, releasing a thick, shimmering cloud that expanded rapidly, enveloping both you and Steve entirely.

“What’s that?”

“Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.”

“What?”

“A nanotech cloaking device that disrupts sensors and bends light, creating a temporary optical camouflage, making everything go unnoticed by any scan detection. Even Stark Tech.” You held his hand as you moved swiftly and silently, cloaked by the swirling cloud.

Steve sighed as you slipped into an alley. “How many Harry Potter references are we having?”

TBD

Continue to:

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Is past midnight but I still managed to post it on Friday! <3 I'm actually in the car posting this, lol, but I'm not driving! So this was SUCH a fun chapter to write, i LOVE this machiavellic mastermind super strategistic Steve!! (I'm so turned on by him) So thank you for sticking with me thus far! Now I have a question, would you do the honors and complete this for me?

Just let me know! (I'm actually near finishing it, and Idk if I'm changing it but who knows!!! :D )

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian

[jandthecrow]

Eggs & Bacon

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

SUMMARY: Morning after a eventful night Ghost makes you breakfast

CW: soft!Ghost(???), morning after sex, SFW, heartwarming, should be gender neutral(tell me if it’s not lol), domesticated!simon ghost riley

The first rays of sunrise had crawled through the window, casting a soft glow across the room.

You stirred, your body heavy with the memory of having slept so deeply, the scent of Simon - leather and the faintest trace of gunpowder - lingered in the air. You shifted under the sheets, feeling a smile tug at your lips as the events from the previous night flashed through your mind. It had been… perfect.

You stretched, cozy in the aftermath of a night spent in his arms, and just as you started to stand from the bed, you heard the sound of dishes coming from the kitchen.

You rolled out of bed and padded barefoot down the hallway. The smell hit you first, something delicious: eggs, bacon, maybe pancakes. You blinked, still half-dazed, as you reached the kitchen and saw him standing at the stove.

Ghost. Your Simon Riley. He was wearing his black t-shirt and sweatpants, his skull mask missing so only his ruggedly beautiful face remained. His back was to you, his large frame filling the space as he worked with surprising skill. The image of the hardened soldier who could take on any mission with cold efficiency seemed so wrong right now. Instead, the man standing in front of the stove-cooking breakfast-looked like someone ready to care for the person he loved.

Morning," you said, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

He turned, his face softening when his gaze landed on you. That rare, almost blinding smile was tugging upwards. "Morning," he replied, his voice low, gravelly, as though not to break the silence of the morning. "How'd you sleep?"

You smiled, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. "Better now. You're making breakfast?

He nodded, turning back to the stove, where a sizzling pan of bacon and eggs was cooking. "Figured I'd take care of you. After last night… you shouldn't have to do anything today."

You raised an eyebrow. "You know you don’t have to do this for me, right?"

Simon shot you a look over his shoulder, eyes dark but soft in such a way that only he could manage. "I know you're perfectly capable. But I want to do it. You've been through enough. You've got enough on your plate as it is, the least I can do is help around.”

It was just a statement, but it meant so much more. He wasn't talking about breakfast anymore. He was talking about everything: the nights you spent apart, the missions he couldn't tell you about, the burdens he carried in the silence of the world. And here, in this moment, he was making sure you didn't have to lift a finger. It was just so… Simon.

"Well, you're doing a good job," you said, stepping closer, trying to hide the way your heart squeezed at the sight of him so effortlessly taking care of you. The man who'd walked through war zones, survived hell on earth, and now? Now he was making sure you had a hot breakfast.

"You should see the way I handle MREs," he said with a smirk, flipping the bacon with military precision. "But I've been practicing. Can't have you thinking I don't know how to cook."

You laughed softly, and leaned against the counter as you watched him work. "I've got to admit, I didn't expect this when I met you."

He shrugged, still looking into the pan. "I'm not always the guy you think I am."

There was a silent sincerity in his voice that would catch your breath. You knew him better than anybody, saw the parts of him no others ever would, and sometimes it still surprises you. His kindness, how he'd always make sure you had what you needed, even down to the smallest things-like making me breakfast after a night of passion-was something I hadn't expected when you first met him.

You stepped closer and slid onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "You're something else, you know that?"

Simon glanced over his shoulder, that rare smile tugging at his lips for the second time this morning. "Only for you."

He sets a plate in front of you: scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast, and a warm cup of coffee. The smell was addictive, and one could tell he'd made it with care. Your stomach growled in appreciation as you picked up the fork.

"How did you make it so…. well?" You asked, cutting into the eggs.

"Like I said," he replied, his voice softer now, "I've been practicing.

You took a bite, savoring the flavors. “Well, I’ve got to admit, you’ve bested yourself.”

Simon leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching me with a look of contentment. He was so used to being the one giving the orders, the one who does the protecting, but this? This felt more him than anything. Caring, thoughtful… loving. He was letting you see all of him and you were falling harder every day.

You'd just finished breakfast, and as you looked up at him, your heart squeezed. "You really don't have to do this, you know."

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "I want to. Don't argue with me on this."

You smiled and put your fork down, rising to your feet to close the distance between you two. "You're something special, Simon Riley.

His gaze softened and he pulled you close, brushing his lips over your forehead. "Not special. Just yours."

And in that moment, you knew you’d never let him go. Because Simon, the soldier, a deadly lieutenant, the man who would fight to the death for those he loved - he was also the man who believed you shouldn’t have to do anything for yourself because he’d do it for you.

And you could never ask for more than that.

[hidden-for-reg]

June 27: heal | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 799

*surgeon x patient au*

Part one, previous part

If you asked Regulus, he'd say he was completely fine. But after he took the tiniest fall of course his idiot surgeon of a brother made him go to the hospital to get it checked out. But then of coursethe hospital in question doesn't allow family to treat family. So, now, of course Regulus is stuck with the hot, dumb doctor. Of course. And for the past 10 minutes that hot, dumb doctor, who introduced himself as James, has been talking non-STOP. 

“Okay, you know what? Stop, just stop talking,” Regulus snapped suddenly, pinching his nose bridge and closing his eyes for a second. “I’m fine. I don’t need surgery. I’m only here because my brother forced me. You can just give me some painkillers or whatever and I’ll leave.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and frowned at James. “Come on, doctor,” he continued, “do me a favor here or something.”

“Oh— er, yeah, well,” James’ face flushed a bright shade of red, “your X-Rays aren’t looking great, and the only way to fix your knee is with surgery so, ah, I— well you can’t leave, basically.” James shifted his feet nervously from where he stood next to Regulus’ bed. He flashed Regulus an apologetic grin as if it might help comfort him or something. It did not.

“I’m fine,” Regulus gritted out between his teeth. The nerve of this doctor, honestly. 

“No, you’re not, but you will be once you get surgery. I promise the surgery is perfectly safe, and I’ve done plenty of them before. There’s nothing to worry about,” James said, voice softening. “And you’ll be able to heal in as little as 3 months.” James sat on the edge of Regulus’ bed and put his hand of Regulus’ leg under the blanket. Regulus decided he would let him stay there for now. “And, uh, not to brag, but I’m a pretty good surgeon,” James added as he leaned in closer to him, “so you’re in good hands, love.” James patted his leg. 

Regulus felt his cheeks grow hot as James flashed him a cocky, lopsided grin. Regulus was trying to look anywhere but James’ eyes. He was dumbly scowling down at his own hands, which now lay in his lap, threaded together. Oh he felt so stupid for this. He would not  be manipulated into this surgery by just a nice man with a nice smile. No. Absolutely not. He felt his cheeks flush harder. 

Regulus risked looking up to meet James' steady gaze. His eyes showed a little concern but were otherwise lovely to look at, not that Regulus would ever admit that to James though. The other man's lips curled up in the corners just slightly, and his thumb was tracing circles where it lay on Regulus' thigh. 

He decided to would probably be okay to share a small smile in return so that's what he did as he still held James' piercing stare. His eyes were so deep with varying hues of dark, chocolatey brown and warm amber.

James opened his mouth like he had been about to say something, then closed it, then opened again slightly, then closed. He drew his lips in a thin line and finally looked away from Regulus. He turned to look at the clock on the bedside stand and abruptly cleared his throat.

Regulus snapped out of his daze immediately at the noise and, instinctively, pulled back from where he was, apparently, leaning in. He trained his eyes back on his hands in his lap again quickly. 

"Um, well, ah, I got to- I have to- uh, paperwork," James mumbled awkwardly, giving Regulus' leg a firm squeeze then letting go and standing up. 

"Oh." Regulus merely stared at him, not really taking it the words yet. "Oh, yes, you.. go do that, uh, yeah."

"Hey," James said, walking to the door, "If you need anything or feel anything weird, just call a nurse and tell them to page me, and I'll be right over. I'm serious, don't hesitate if you need something." 

Regulus nodded, breathless at the moment for some unknown reason.

"And," he added, now already standing in the doorway, "if you could hopefully decide about surgery before tonight, that would- well, it would save me from some difficult conversations. And if you decide sooner, rather than later, you can out of pain sooner. Again, just tell a nurse to page me once your mind's all made up."

Regulus snapped out of his daze... again. "Yeah, okay."

"Alright, see you later, love."

"Later."

As soon as James was nowhere to be seen, Regulus let out a tremendous sigh and flopped back into his bed. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. What was happening to him?

next part

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

The fall can be greater once at the top.

Logan howlett x reader

-

DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS !!!!

-

Warnings: Canon divergence.

-

I couldn't say I blamed them. They all wanted to know so much, but I had nothing to tell. Logan didn't remember me. He doesn't. And he may never do again. I may never hear him love me or feel his embrace or cook dinner with him ever again. But that's fine it's fine is in Fi it-

FUCK

The dagger hit the wood stump down the middle, splitting it in two with a crunching crack. This wasn't my Logan. He looked like him yes and smelt like him and stared at me like him. But it Wasn't him.

How the fuck was I going to get him back? The early morning sun burst through the foliage with angelic rays of light that illuminated the grass below me. Like logans late night into early morning log runs. He would gather timber and old wood from the mill and bring it home. Would always say he'd turn it into toys for our children.

But he never did.

And we never had any children.

"Hey you!"

Logan. Still dressed in his suit, he marched through the thick ankle length grass toward me, that infamous scowl still printed on his face. Aged. Beautiful.

I cleared my throat "sorry" I stood up quickly "I can go if you'd prefer-"

"No" he interrupted "stay, you were here first I'm only stopping by to have a drink anyways"

Ever so grumpy and always so soft.

"I'm sure your wondering why I'm wearing the same suit as you huh?"

It was a terrible conversation starter. Because of course he wasn't. Why the fuck would he be?

"I was at first. But now I'm just thinking your some kind of fan" i sipped the liquid in his drink.

A fan.

a fan. A fucking fan. He looks at me like a fan. I took a bullet for him. I lost limbs and lost an eye. I kept secrets from my own family to protect Logan. Almost died protecting my own mind from Xavier to keep Logan safe. I killed myself so that Magneto couldn't trace him. Destroyed myself from the inside out for the possibility that it could save Logan. Helped him regain some memories back when he lost them. Stitched him up when he lost the ability to regenerate. Snapped a lot of metal bones back into place. Held him when he had nightmares and snuck out of bed. Trying to not wake him in the middle of the night to stitch the wound his claws had given me so that he wouldn't panic.

I held him in my arms while he died bleeding from the mouth. Choking. Coughing as I sobbed onto his clothing soaking my face in delicate tears of agony.

But what would I know I'm just a fucking fan.

"No. No, I'm no fan. I actually come from another earth like Wade. I'm the first female wolverine to grace the earth in that universe. Feels pretty amazing sometimes"

For a moment, I saw a glint of smile on his lips. "Damn, a female wolverine, huh? So, do I still exist or at all in your universe?"

Oh. Oh yes, does he exist. He's amazing. Oh, Logan, if only I could express it to you. Not even Odin above or any Oracle could give me the power to tell you about my wolverine.

"You do. Infact we know each other"

It was a risk. Fuck it was a massive risk doing this. I felt like I was going to throw up or worse faint. I thought death must be kinder than this.

"We do?" He furrowed his brows "hard to imagine anyone would even fucking look at me in Any other world" he drank his drink again.

"In," I sighed and scratched my head nervously. "In my universe, you're actually my husband"

Logan could have dropped his glass onto metal in a soundproof room, and it would have been quieter than the silence that fell upon the forest as I spoke. He shifted his head slightly.

"Sorry i-"

"No, no, you don't have to be sorry," he chuckled.

He actually chuckled.

"You look like her. My wife. I'm my universe. She's dead. She died saving me. You have her hair, her eyes. Hell, you even fucking smell like her"

He stared at the grass by his feet. I felt his thoughts working in his brain. I felt him try to pick what to say and how to say it. Like the earth was spinning, and he was the only one standing still. I just focused on him. That's all I could do

"I wish just once," he started, "that it could actually be her. Passed the hallucinations and the nightmares and the dreams and the constant agony. I just wish once that whoever is standing up there in the heavens would just let me see her again"

But you are. I'm right here. I'm right fucking here. The woman who died for you in your universe. The woman who saved you and lived in mine. The woman you married and loved and adore.

But of course, it's not actually her. I'm not his me. And he's not my him. It's all just one big agonising dream, isn't it? It's all just a tortuous slow and painful circle that we must endure to live peacefully.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time." he gruffly cleared his throat and walked away.

I should have grabbed his fucking hand.

But I watched him leave.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 19: Ruin

I saw the word ruin and took it a different way if you know what I'm sayinnnnn God this is really where I'm at in life huh. I say, good for me, enjoy robot kissing

Content warning: Suggestive themes, it's making out with robots time, you know what you're in for

Word count: 546

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

"N-Now friend, I, I think that you should maybe-" Sun stops, making a garbled sound mixed with static.

You pause your kissing, peering down at him with an innocent look, "Should maybe what?"

"Doing that is unfair and you know it," He mutters, it makes you chuckle. 

You trace your finger along the edge of his ray, humming. 

You think it was great that you'd ended up a shelf higher than usual in the supply closet this evening. You hadn't expected this level of control that would be given to you with such a vantage point. And you're greedily using it to get your way. Though, with Sun's lack of ability to form a coherent sentence, you'd argue he's also gotten his way.

Just likely not how he'd intended. 

He shivers, tone warning, "Starshine~ You're pushing your luck."

"Am I?" 

The glare he gives you doesn't quite work so well at this angle, "You are. I would suggest reconsidering before you take this any further."

"Oh, what's the matter?" Your hands shift to cup his face, "Are we getting a little flustered from all the extra attention?"

Your hands move again, quickly finding purchase at the back of his head and tracing patterns that cause him to again, short circuit. At least you think that's what's happening. You're not an engineer.

Sun's hands grip your wrists, pausing your inflictions.

 "No."

You huff, "Liar. If that was true you'd be actually telling me to stop, not beating around the bush about it."

"You're reading far too much into things," He says, while avoiding looking directly at you. 

With your hands unavailable you make do with being able to lean back down, mouth hovering over the bottom edge of his faceplate, "I don't think I am. Face it, you're out of your element and you're enjoying it. Though, maybe because that's not a common occurrence for you is why you're," You're just about to kiss him, pausing now to glance up and meet his gaze, "Hesitating."

While the Daycare Attendant's expression is usually unreadable, you feel right in that moment there's an especially palpable feeling radiating off him in that moment. It clicks when he releases your wrists, opting instead to take hold of your shoulders and kiss you fervently. 

Oh. He hadn't been expecting you to hesitate. 

As you kiss back his grip tightens, then loosens as those fingers start to travel. Down your arms, up underneath your shirt, finding a resting place that's definitely not after-school special appropriate, all the while still pressing kisses to, really any easily accessible piece of skin on you. 

You're panting when he finally pulls away, hands resting on either side of you as he leans in as close as physically possible. 

Sun's stare has a fire that shouldn't be possible, but you feel all the same, "And if I am? Enjoying it, that is."

Still so stubborn, but you can pick up on the uncertainty. You feel it's your job to fix that. 

You smirk, wrapping your arms around his neck as your fingers start to tangle into the wires behind his head. 

"Then let me ruin you, and assure you have no reason to be afraid."

A soft chuckle as he moves in once again, "Who says I was?"

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Something something, Sun's control issues would be reflected in how he treats his partners and vice versa-WHAT, who said that???

Man I've been giving y'all whiplash with these past few huh, this could have been angst but the vibes weren't there, oh well, here's the masterlist, thank you for reading!!

[ateez-ana]

i can do it with a broken heart

i'm always sad when something about that interview pops up in my… wooyoung is perfect and deserves all the love in the world

..........

The air in the dorm room was thick with unspoken tension. Wooyoung, the usually boisterous member of ATEEZ, sat hunched over his phone, his gaze fixed on the screen, but his mind a million miles away. Ana watched him from across the room, a silent observer to his distress.

'It’s just... it’s just that they said I looked like a pig,' Wooyoung finally mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.

Ana’s heart sank. She knew this interview had gotten to him. Wooyoung, with his infectious laughter and boundless energy, was so confident, but beneath that facade lay a deep insecurity about his appearance.

'What are you talking about?' Ana asked softly, trying to hide her own anxieties. 'You look amazing.'

Wooyoung shook his head, his eyes downcast. 'No, Ana, they actually said it. In the interview. It was live, and it was on camera. I know they meant it as a joke, but it hurt.'

His words echoed a familiar melody in Ana’s own heart 'You know, Wooyoung,' she said, her voice soft but firm, 'I’ve been there too. People constantly compare me to the other idols, make comments about my looks, my talent, even my presence in the group.'

He looked up, surprised. 'What do you mean?'

'I'm the only girl in the group,' she said, her voice softening. 'There's a lot of pressure to be perfect, to be good enough. I get so many comments about my appearance, about my talent, about everything. It's exhausting  I get it. I've been called everything from 'fake' to 'talentless' since our debut. People said I wouldn't last a month, that I was just a pretty face. But I'm still here, fighting for my dream.'

She continued, her voice barely a whisper, 'Right after we debuted, I seriously considered leaving. I felt so lost, so alone even if I had you guys” Her gaze softened, meeting Wooyoung's directly. 'The first fan meeting was the scariest, you know? Two girls came up to us, completely ignoring me to talk to the boys. I felt so invisible, so unimportant. It made me question everything.'

'But then I realized,' she said, her voice gaining a strength that surprised even her, 'I was the only girl, the only one who could be a role model for other girls who dreamed of being on stage. And I wouldn't let the negativity dim my light. I wouldn't let it steal my joy.'

Wooyoung was silent, absorbing her words. He realized that he wasn't alone in his struggles. Ana, the girl who always seemed so confident and strong, was carrying her own burdens.

He reached out and took her hand, his grip firm but gentle. 'You're not alone, Ana. I'm here, and we'll face this together. We're a team, remember? We're Ateez.'

Ana smiled, a flicker of hope lighting up her eyes. 'Yeah, we're Ateez. And we'll fight this together, as a team.'

'It's okay to be insecure, Wooyoung,' Ana said, her voice gentle. 'We all have those doubts. But the important thing is to talk about them, to support each other. You’re not a pig, you're amazing. And I know you see the best in me too.'

Wooyoung nodded, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. In that shared moment of honesty, the weight on their shoulders seemed to lighten. The room, once heavy with unspoken pain, now vibrated with a newfound sense of understanding. They were two idols, facing the world together, each other's anchors in the storm.

'You're perfect just the way you are, Wooyoung,' Ana said, her voice soft but firm. 'Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.'

Wooyoung looked up, his eyes still damp from the tears he'd tried to hide. He'd been so hurt by the interview, the word 'pig' echoing in his mind like a cruel taunt.

'But... what if I'm not?' he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.

Ana reached out, her hand resting gently on his arm. 'You are. You're strong, funny, and incredibly talented. You light up every room you walk into. You're the best damn dancer I know.'

And as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, the two roommates sat side by side, their shared vulnerability a silent promise of strength and support. They knew, in that moment, that they were not just bandmates, they were friends, allies, and each other's solace. Their insecurities, once seemingly insurmountable, now felt smaller, lighter, a part of their shared journey. They had found healing, not in denial, but in acceptance, in the warmth of shared vulnerability, in the simple act of being seen and understood.

The weight of her words lifted something heavy in Wooyoung's chest. He looked at Ana, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the day , and he knew, deep in his heart, she was right. He didn't need to change for anyone. He was perfectly, beautifully himself.

[guppygiggles]

Can I play with you, just a bit?

In the morning, when you just woke up?

Can I bring you tea in bed? Can I gently stroke your hair, stroke your back, open the blinds to let a bit of light in... Friend, it's time to wake up...

How should I imagine you? Compliant and sweet, rubbing your eyes as you sit up, smiling like the ray of sunshine you are? Or are you resistant, pulling the blanket up to your shoulder, rolling grumpily away from me?

We both know it's time, love...

Maybe I should take the soft corner of the blanket, gently trace the delicate spiral of your ear with it...

What's wrong, what's so funny? Are you having a nice dream?

Maybe I should pull the blanket down as you're curled up on your side, walk my fingertips from your shoulder, down your arm...

Wake up, peach... Your tea is getting cold...

Hm...

What if I gently pinch that gap between your shirt hem and your pajama pants, the one that reveals the soft curve of your hip?

Oh, no, no... it's too late to hide it, now...

Lying on your side like this, with your arm pinned underneath you, I've only got one of your hands to worry about... and I've been awake for hours, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, sipping tea and drawing up a storm while you were blissfully unaware in dreamland.

I can hold that little wrist down quite easily.

Now, are you ready to get up~?

Oh, don't tell me that was a "no" I just heard...

You're awfully brave, aren't you?

Alright, then...

I suppose I'll have to take my thumb and forefinger and softly tweak this squishy hip of yours, maybe go up and down your side a bit, easily keeping you still with your feeble morning strength.

Goodness... I can't help but blush to listen to you giggle like this... Now, I'm almost glad you aren't an early riser...

What's wrong, dear? Are you afraid I'll go higher? It's hard not to notice how your laughter increases, in both pitch and volume, as I work my way up these ribs...

Tickle, tickle, tickle...~

Are you ready to get up, now, before I make you really howl?

Hehe... how cute. You really are just the sweetest thing, aren't you?

Here, let me help you sit up.

Oh, good. I was worried you'd be late! I'll come back and check on you in five minutes, okay, friend?

And when I do, you'd better be ready... Because next time, I won't stop.

[auraxins]

i don't know you (but i'd like to)

childe x gn!reader

tags: first kiss, romantic tension, fastburn, (almost) strangers to lovers, canon-universe with factual liberties taken

wc: 1.1k

written as part of a prompt-based writing challenge with some friends <3

It’s far too quiet in the room that Childe has pulled you into.

Not even the regular melodic birdsong filters past the thick panelled glass and the floor-length curtains. Only the thinnest ray of light traces the outskirts of the furniture, lining the tables and the walls to eliminate your risk of bumping into them. 

“They shouldn’t find us in here,” he says, relieved. You can practically see the tension fall from his arms and hit the carpet. 

For what is supposed to be a well-organised group of elite soldiers, you’ve learned that the lower ranks of the Fatui rather comparably behave like schoolchildren at the best of times. Childe’s rapid rise to the status of Harbinger and his fierce battle skills had earned him a cohort of fans, recruits of all ages who would do anything to garner even the smallest moment of his company. 

You’ve never been that close to the man (figuratively, or literally in this case). In fact, you’d much prefer to avoid him where possible. That isn’t to say you particularly dislike him, but that your life would remain easier without his acquaintance. 

Yet here you are, having been dragged into one of the multitudes of spare rooms throughout the Zapolyarny Palace, practically chest-to-chest with him. 

“I wasn’t at risk of their feral wrath,” you complain, wrenching yourself from his grasp upon your forearm. You walk to the curtains and pull them open, flooding the room with wintry sunlight. 

Childe blinks away the sudden obtrusion and pouts, folding his arms across his chest. 

“You were going to let me suffer them alone.” 

“Yes, exactly.” 

With the room fully illuminated, you take in your surroundings. 

This is one of the spare meeting quarters, the type that recruits get packed into during the early days of their training to discuss strategies and logistics. It’s easy to move around in when it’s empty, as they tend to keep the soldiers standing. (A test of endurance, it’s called. You remember the days you’d been forced to do the same, so many years ago, with a distinct lack of fondness.) Only a large chalkboard sits on the far side, accompanied by a small lectern and a singular chair for the potential instructor. 

It keeps the room feeling open, despite how small the space seems now that you occupy it with Childe. 

“If they’re bothering you that much,” you say, “why don’t you tell them to back off?” 

“You think they listen?” Childe snickers. “I wish it was that easy. ‘Leave me alone, you’re getting on my nerves.’” His voice rises in pitch as he switches to mimic a metaphorical recruit, and he even goes so far as to shimmy to add to the effect. “‘Mr. Tartaglia you’re so strong and cold, that’s so exciting~!’”

The back of your throat burns as you hold back a snorting chuckle. 

“Now it makes sense, why you run from them like wildfowl.” 

“It’s called a tactical retreat,” huffs Childe in retort. “I’m no fowl.” 

“Sure,” you tease, taking a few steps closer. He holds his ground, standing put. “So if I called them in here now, you’d stay?” 

“You wouldn’t,” he warns. 

A smile breaks across your lips. “Oh, I would.” 

Another step, and you dart to cross his path. But he’s faster, surprisingly so, and he’s blocking your way within seconds. 

Now, you’re face-to-face again. Childe beams as his gaze travels down to your feet, and all the way back, as though he’s scrutinising you the way a beast would their next meal. 

“You know, I’ve seen the way you fight. We really should spar sometime.” 

“You wish,” you laugh. “I’d wipe the floor with you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” 

Your amusement peters out and you’re left with the eye contact you’re still holding. Intense cobalt pierces through to your very soul, mesmerising and enthralling. Perhaps this is the reason you’ve avoided him for so long, because you knew the first time you saw those eyes of his that you’d lose yourself in them one day. 

There is no level of professionalism to be found in an encounter like this. Try as you might, composure falters and you are left trapped as your purest self. And so is he. 

The dip of Childe’s cupid’s bow glistens in the late afternoon light, highlighting the curve of his lips. Subtle lines press into the flesh, distorting the otherwise smooth texture. 

It would be so easy to just lean in a little more and feel for yourself, whether his mouth would be rough against your own. 

He must have the same train of thought- or, perhaps, you’d finally fallen victim to the whims of your subconscious- because you swear you weren’t this close to him two seconds ago. 

Heat blossoms on your cheek as he reaches to hold your face. Thunder roars in your ears. The hairs on the back of your neck rise, and you lose a breath somewhere between the attempts to keep yourself grounded. 

“What are you doing?” you ask quietly, lower lip trembling in anticipation. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

Before the phrase ‘for what?’ can leave you, you’re silenced. 

Kissing Childe feels different than you’d expected. Not that you’d anticipated kissing him before now, that is. Just that it’s different. Pleasantly so. 

He’s definitely not used to this (but then neither are you) and it’s awkward to say the least. Your teeth clack more than once, and you’ve almost certainly bruised something, but the force that has pulled you together is nigh-on intoxicating. 

An electricity pulses between you, floods your veins and overwhelms your senses. Childe is all you can see, all you can taste. A faint hint of oud and saltwater lingers in the air. 

Even when you part for breath he chases after your mouth, desperate for more. 

To imagine, if you hadn’t taken a detour prior to encountering the commotion that had led you in here, you’d never have learned just how hungry you felt. 

“We should stop,” you gasp, splaying your hands against his chest to create some distance. The way his lips remain parted almost entices you back for more.

“Why?”

“What if someone comes looking for us?” 

“They won’t,” he assures, hands finding your shoulders and gently pulling you back in. He takes to pressing kisses along your jaw, across your cheeks, anywhere he can to attempt to persuade you to kiss him properly again. 

“What if they do?” you insist. 

Childe holds himself against your lips, barely touching, as he repeats your question back to you. 

“Well, what if they do?” 

And you have no good answer for him. 

So despite the nagging of your conscience, you lean in and kiss him again. 

[silent-stories]

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑...

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Tw: confessig feelings, fluff

You dangled your legs off the roof of Noah's house as the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange. Beside you, the boy raised a joint to his lips, exhaling smoke into the cool but not biting evening breeze, that whisked away the tendrils of vapor, leaving only a faint trace of his exhale.

The hoodie he'd refused to put on after the shower he'd taken before going up there lay beside him, even though you'd insisted that if he didn't put on clothes he'd catch a cold, and his bare chest covered in ink rose and fell as he let smoke in and out of his mouth.

"Never have I ever…hurt myself trying to be funny." You said.

You always found it fun to play that game with Noah, since you were kids. The rule was to always tell the truth, as if you were using one of those lie detectors they only used on criminals you saw on TV but sometimes you found yourself wondering if Noah had ever told you a lie during that game that maybe you had become too old for playing.

Noah chuckled, small wrinkles appeared around his eyes. "I bet you already know the answer."

The light from the day's last rays of sunlight reflected off his almond shaped brown eyes, making them appear to be a hundred different shades of gold.

"Oh I know, but I want to hear it from you." You laughed, thinking about what had happened that morning several years ago when you were both little more than children.

"That tree was obviously unstable, it wasn't my fault!"

"That tree was unstable but you tried to climb it anyway."

"Tried? I did it!"

"Yeah and then you fell. And you broke your wrist."

"Yeah but you took good care of by me afterwards. That's when I knew I wanted to keep you."

"Wait, you wanted to keep me? I wanted to keep you so you didn't end up in other similar situations and risk your life every two days."

Noah laughed as he stubbed out his joint butt on the roof of the house before crossing one leg under the other.

"It's your turn." You said.

"I don't know...I feel like I already know everything about you."

"Then ask me something you don't know."

He didn't say anything, as if he was carefully choosing his next question and after a few moments of silence you wondered if he had decided that the game wasn't worth playing anymore.

The birds had stopped chirping and the kids who usually played outside had gone back to their homes.

"Never have I ever...been in love."

Your head spontaneously turned to him but he was staring straight ahead, where the sun was now almost completely gone. His long brown hair still damp from the shower clung to his neck and there hadn't been a moment since he'd stepped out of the bathroom that you hadn't repressed the urge to reach over to brush the dripping strands from his face.

He was pretty, and there was never a moment in your life when you didn't think it.

And you absolutely were in love, probably not from the first moment you saw him because you were too young to know what love even was.

Now you knew.

But he was your best friend.

"No" You lied, "no, I don't think so."

Noah didn't answer, continuing to stare at an indefinite point in front of him. No funny or sarcastic comments, no jokes.

"Noah?"

"It's your turn." He didn't turn to you.

"Never have I ever..." you thought about it for a moment, you had nothing to lose, right? "been in love."

"It's not fair. That's what I asked." He chuckled under his breath.

"I don't think there's a rule against asking the same question." You shrugged.

Noah rolled his eyes, then stayed silent for a few moments, as if thinking about it.

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his damp hair, "still am."

You have felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach and in your belly. I was a weird mix of fear and hope that you couldn't quite identify.

"Do they know?" You just wanted Noah to be happy, you didn't care if he would break your heart.

"Nah."

"Why?"

Noah snorted. "Because she doesn't like me that way."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she's never even been in love."

Oh

Noah turned to you, finding your surprised expression.

"Yeah." He chuckled, his laughter was colder and less genuine than usual, "Embarrassing isn't it? I've been waiting for days if not months for the right moment to ask that stupid question during this game and when I finally work up the courage, she tells me she's never been in love. I almost wish you'd told me you were head over heels for that guy who is always flirting with you at the coffee shop. Someone who deserves you. But like this? You make things even more hard because every time I'm around you I can't help but think about what it would be like-"

It was a way to stop his rambling, it was a way to tell him he was wrong, it was a way to tell him you had lied for the first time during the game.

Your lips met his, and your hand found its place in his still-damp hair. The moment was brief, fleeting—already fading as if it had never existed. “I thought… you said…” Noah stammered, taken aback. A faint smile lingered on his lips.

“I lied. I’m sorry, I fucking lied. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, his fingers caressing the exposed skin as your shirt rode up slightly and his soft lips met yours again.

"God, I'm glad."