#psychological domination

[nycmistressblunt]

Once you're in my psychic clutches, you'll never want to leave. And once I've trained you to serve my every want, you couldn't leave, even if you wanted to. How delectable does that sound, little one?

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 1

Started a new AU called Affectionate Obsession, with Steve Rogers as the first Character Story Series to be told I hope you all enjoy and don't be afraid to tell me what you think.

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

Story Masterlist

The low hum of the factory machinery buzzed in my ears as I sat in the breakroom, staring at the sad sandwich I’d slapped together this morning. How did I end up here? After years of hard work and late-night study sessions, my Finance degree didn’t seem to mean anything anymore. Instead of crunching numbers and living the life I’d dreamed of, I was here—packaging cardboard boxes and watching my future slip away.

I glanced down at my phone, a knot forming in my throat. Rent was coming up in two weeks, and I had no idea how I was going to scrape the money together. The thought of moving back in with my parents twisted my stomach in knots. No way could I go back to their judgmental looks, the snide remarks about my life choices, or their constant need to belittle everything I’ve done. I'd rather sleep on a park bench than deal with that.

My phone buzzed on the table, jolting me from my thoughts. I looked down at the screen and felt my heart sink a little deeper.

Sharon.

Of all the people who could be reaching out, she was the last person I expected—or wanted—to hear from. We hadn’t spoken since graduation, and that was by design. Things between us hadn’t ended well, and the fact that she was contacting me now couldn’t mean anything good.

With a sigh, I swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"Wow, you actually picked up," Sharon's voice dripped with that same smugness that always made me grit my teeth. "I wasn’t sure if you were still alive."

I rolled my eyes, immediately regretting answering. "Yeah, still kicking. How are you?" I shot back, not even trying to hide my sarcasm.

"Fabulous, of course." Her voice was so sugary sweet it made my stomach churn. "Anyway, I’ll get to the point. A few of us are going on a trip—Maldives. One-month private villa. You should come."

I blinked, trying to process what she’d just said. A month-long vacation in the Maldives? Out of nowhere?

"Uh… I don’t think I can," I muttered, the discomfort rising up my spine. "I’m working right now, and I can’t afford a trip like that."

There was a brief silence, followed by Sharon’s familiar, annoyed huff. "Steve’s paying for everything, so don’t worry about that."

As if money was the only issue. I shook my head, feeling my frustration rise. "It’s not just about money. I can’t take off from work for two months."

"Why not?" she snapped, sounding genuinely confused, like the concept of having to work to survive was foreign to her. "Just quit."

I almost laughed at how ridiculous she sounded. "I can’t just quit, Sharon. I need this job. Some of us actually have bills to pay."

"Whatever," she sighed, clearly losing interest. "Look, if you change your mind, you’ve got three months to figure it out. We’re leaving in July."

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a smart remark. "I’ll let you know."

And with that, she hung up.

I stared at the phone, my mind spinning. Why now? Why was Sharon suddenly interested in inviting me on this extravagant trip after all this time? After everything that happened?

Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I shook off the nagging feeling. Whatever she and her clique were up to, I wasn’t about to fall for it. Not this time.

I had more pressing things to worry about—like making it through the rest of my shift without falling apart.

***

Three weeks after Sharon’s call, I found myself standing in the manager’s office, trying to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth.

“Budget cuts,” Diane said flatly, as if that explained everything.

“But I’m the only one being fired,” I pointed out, confusion mixing with anger. “How does that make sense?”

Diane shrugged, clearly uninterested. “It’s just how things are.”

I knew better than to push back too much, but it still gnawed at me. Budget cuts? No way. This factory wasn’t exactly rolling in dough, but I’d seen plenty of new hires lately. So why me?

As I walked out of her office, I thought back to the time I’d corrected Diane on… well, something trivial. She’d been going on about a new process we had to follow, and I’d pointed out a mistake in her instructions. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. I remembered she’d gone all red in the face, tight-lipped, and I could tell she didn’t appreciate being corrected, but it seemed like she was over it.

Did she have something to do with this? It didn’t make sense. I was practically invisible at the factory. Why would she care?

Still, it stung. Whatever the real reason, I was out of a job.

A few weeks later, my luck hadn’t changed. I spent every waking moment job hunting, praying something would come through before the end of the month. But it didn’t.

When it became clear I couldn’t afford my rent anymore, I had to make a decision: drown in debt or swallow my pride and move back in with my parents.

I hated the idea. But bills were piling up, and the pressure was too much, so I chose my parents.

The moment I walked through the door with my boxes, my mom took it upon herself to help me unpack—which, of course, meant a nonstop commentary on all the poor decisions I’d made in life.

“I told you this would happen,” she said, folding one of my shirts with military precision. “You never listen. You should have stayed closer to home, gone into something practical. But no, you wanted to follow your dreams.”

I clenched my jaw, biting back the urge to snap. It was always the same speech: how I should’ve done this, should’ve done that. As if I didn’t feel bad enough already. But I stayed quiet, nodding along while she reminded me just how incapable I was.

I’d been living with my parents for a month and a half now, and I was at my breaking point. Their constant nagging, the tension, the way they hovered over me—it was driving me insane. I needed out.

One week before Sharon and the girls were set to leave for the Maldives, I caved. Desperation took over, and I found myself texting Sharon, asking if there was still space for me on the trip.

Honestly, I didn’t expect her to respond. But then, there it was: a yes. Along with a list of things to pack and an address of where to meet them.

I stared at my phone in disbelief for a second. I was actually going to do this. Anything to get away from my parents.

When I told them about the trip, their reaction was immediate approval. Of course, the second they heard Sharon and Steve would be there, they were practically pushing me out the door.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” my mom beamed. “Sharon’s such a successful young woman. You should really try to get back on her good side.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course they loved Sharon. She was everything they wanted me to be—successful, put together, and always in the right circles. And Steve? They practically worshiped the guy. The heir to a tech empire. Who wouldn’t?

“Just make sure there’s no more falling outs this time,” my dad added, like I’d ever intentionally ruined things with Sharon.

I remembered the first time I told them about our fallout. They acted like I’d told them I was addicted to drugs, and they never really forgave me for it.

Now, it seemed I was being given a second chance to make everything “right.”

And honestly? I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but at this point, I’d do anything to get away from here.

***

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this whole trip might be some elaborate prank. I half-expected to show up and find a hidden camera crew waiting to embarrass me. But here I was, standing in front of a private jet, struggling with my heavy luggage.

“Need a hand?” a man’s voice cut through my thoughts. Before I could even respond, he was already taking my bags, prying them from my grip with an ease that felt almost dismissive.

"Uh, thanks," I muttered, watching him haul the luggage up the steps of the jet. Was this even real?

Inside, Sharon was waiting, her bright smile as fake as I remembered. “Kiwi! Oh my God, look at you!” Her eyes swept over me, lingering on all the wrong places. “Still… you,” she added, her tone too sharp to be anything close to nice.

“Yeah,” I replied, biting back the instinct to roll my eyes. Same old Sharon. Still poking at me for being shorter and curvier than the rest of them. “Still me.”

I looked to Natasha, Jane and Pepper and waved before following them into the Private Jet.

Sharon smirked, gesturing toward the jet's sleek interior. “Welcome aboard. I bet it’s been a while since you’ve ridden in anything like this?”

I didn’t bother with a response. There were a million reasons why I didn’t fly on private jets, one being that I couldn’t afford too, but it wasn’t worth the energy. I followed Sharon inside, catching sight of the group lounging around like they belonged there.

Steve was the first to greet me, his golden hair practically glowing in the soft light as he flashed that easy smile. “Hey, Kiwi,” he said, patting the seat beside him. His tone was friendly—maybe a little too friendly—but I hesitated. Before I could move, Natasha grabbed my arm and steered me toward a different seat.

“We saved you a spot over here!” Natasha chimed, squeezing my arm with just a bit too much excitement. She shot a quick glance at Steve, then back at me, like there was something I wasn’t picking up on.

Peter was already seated across from me, leaning back with a casual confidence that made me uncomfortable. His dark eyes met mine for a split second, and he gave a small nod. There was nothing awkward or out of place about him—if anything, he looked like he belonged here. Like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Glad you could make it,” Peter said, his voice smooth and low. There was something about the way he said it, something that felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

The conversations around me were light, but every now and then, I’d catch something—a quick glance between Steve and Peter, a soft chuckle from one of the boys, or Sharon’s eyes sparkling with something that wasn’t amusement. It felt like they were all in on something, like the air was thick with an inside joke I wasn’t a part of.

I tried to brush it off, joining in on the small talk and ignoring the strange tension. But with every shared look between the boys, every lingering gaze from Sharon, that unease just kept creeping back.

It was like they were waiting for something.

Something I wasn’t in on.

***

I stirred awake to the gentle shake of my shoulder and a soft voice calling my name. “Hey, Kiwi, we’ve landed,” Natasha said, with a small grin, wiping her own hands on her lap. “You’ve got a little drool there.”

Still groggy, I wiped at the side of my mouth, feeling my face flush as I tried to erase the evidence of my nap. I sat up, blinking a few times, trying to get my bearings. When I looked around, I noticed the plane was emptier than before.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, my voice still thick with sleep.

Natasha stretched, her arms raising above her head. “They already headed to the villa. I guess they didn’t want to disturb you.”

I glanced over at Peter, still slouched in his seat, eyes closed, completely knocked out. The soft rise and fall of his chest made him look so peaceful, like the weight of the world wasn’t even a concern. He hadn’t noticed anything either.

Natasha smirked, shrugging. “I felt bad leaving you two alone, so I stayed back.”

I looked between Natasha and Peter, my stomach twisting. “Oh… right,” I muttered, feeling a familiar awkwardness settle over me. My head dropped slightly. It wasn’t the first time I felt like an outsider with these people, but moments like this seemed to make it worse.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but she gave me a look, one that spoke volumes without needing words. Then she moved toward Peter, giving him a nudge. He jolted awake, eyes wide as if he had no idea where he was. “Where is everyone?” he asked, his voice a little too casual.

Natasha repeated the same thing she told me, though this time, there was a teasing edge to her tone. “They left for the villa, but I didn’t want to leave you two sleeping on the plane.”

Peter ran a hand through his messy hair, giving a lazy stretch before standing up. I wondered if I was overthinking things, but Natasha’s earlier look stayed in the back of my mind.

“Alright, let’s catch up,” Peter said, flashing that easygoing smile of his.

As soon as I stepped off the plane, the warm, salty air hit me, carrying the scent of the ocean and sun. Waiting outside was a sleek black car, ready to take us to the villa. Peter led the way, while Natasha shot me an encouraging smile, like she knew exactly what I was thinking but wouldn’t say it out loud.

But once we got in the car, the excitement that had been bubbling inside me during the plane ride started to fizzle. Reality was sinking in, fast. I stared out the window as the scenery blurred by, and that familiar, sinking feeling crept in.

What am I even doing here?

Every part of me was screaming that this was a mistake. I didn’t belong here. These people had made me feel out of place back then—why would now be any different? I had spent so much time trying to distance myself from them, so why was I here now, in the same circle that made me feel like I wasn’t enough?

Was it going to be like this the entire trip? A constant feeling of not fitting in? The idea of spending two months like this, constantly questioning why I came, made my chest tighten.

I imagined stopping the car right there, getting out, and figuring out a way to go home. But how? I came here with them, and I was stuck until they decided to leave. There wasn’t exactly an easy way out.

I sighed, feeling a knot form in my throat as the tears threatened to well up. But I fought them back, forcing myself to take a deep breath. ‘Hold it together,’ I told myself. There was no way I was going to fall apart in front of Peter, Natasha, or anyone else.

I stared out at the horizon, the villa still nowhere in sight, trying to clear the anxious storm swirling inside me. I would just have to figure this out somehow. I always did.

***

When Natasha, Peter, and I finally arrived at the villa, the others had already claimed their rooms. The place was breathtaking—open spaces, stunning ocean views, and a luxurious atmosphere that screamed money. I was almost tempted to be impressed until Sharon appeared, smug as ever, pointing to the far side of the villa.

"Natasha, Peter, your rooms are down the hall," she said with a wave of her hand before turning to me. Without a word or explanation, she just motioned to the other side of the villa, not even bothering to look me in the eye.

I stood there for a second, waiting for...something. Maybe an explanation, a reason for the sudden isolation, but nothing. No one said anything. Natasha gave me a quick, apologetic glance, but even she stayed quiet.

“Guess I'm on my own then.”

I walked in the direction Sharon had pointed, my suitcase bumping against my heels as I made my way down the corridor. The villa was massive, sprawling in all directions, but as I got closer to my room, I noticed how much plainer and utilitarian the space became. The opulence of the rest of the villa seemed to vanish the farther I went.

And then I found it—a small, one-off room that looked like it had been tacked on as an afterthought. My stomach twisted as I stepped inside. It didn’t have the same elegance as the other rooms I’d seen. The furniture was basic, the decor minimal, and there was no sign of the luxury that was displayed on the other side of the villa.

It looked like a remodeled servant’s quarter. I knew the vibe all too well. Being around people like Sharon, I had seen enough servant quarters to know what one looked like, no matter how much they tried to pretty it up.

I stood there for a moment, soaking it all in. There had to be at least one or two other rooms left over in this massive villa, but I wasn’t given one of those. No, this room was chosen specifically for me. The message was loud and clear: *Know your place. *

I set my suitcase down with a sigh, biting back the frustration swelling in my chest. I should have expected this. I knew what I was getting into when I accepted the invite.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my half-unpacked suitcase, trying to figure out a game plan for the next two months. The thought of spending all that time with these people—people who barely knew me, or worse, remembered me only for what I wasn’t—made my stomach twist. I didn’t want to be ignored the entire trip, but becoming a complete recluse would probably just make things worse. What if they just... left me behind?

The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I got. The walls seemed to inch closer, squeezing the air out of the room. My anxiety gnawed at me from the inside. Was this really worth getting away from my parents?

Before I could spiral any further, a light knock on the doorframe jolted me from my thoughts. I turned to see Natasha standing there with a soft smile and a casual “Hey.”

I forced a smile in return. "Hey," I said, trying to sound less flustered than I felt.

Natasha stepped inside, looking around the room before glancing back at me. “Nice room,” she commented.

I glanced at her, trying to figure out if she was joking. Was she being serious? Because this room—my room—was anything but nice. It was clearly the smallest, most tucked-away space in the entire villa. My little corner of the world, far from everyone else.

“Yeah,” I muttered, not sure what else to say.

“They’re about to get ready for lunch in like two minutes,” Natasha added, a little too breezily, as if she hadn’t noticed how awkward this all felt.

"Okay," I said, figuring that was her cue to leave. But instead of leaving, she sat down on the edge of the bed, her gaze still fixed on me, like she was waiting for something.

I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do next. “Was there… something else?” I asked, hesitantly, trying to figure out what this impromptu visit was really about.

Natasha took a deep breath, still staring me down before stating “Sharon invited you to keep Peter busy.”

  I froze for a moment, blinking in disbelief as Natasha’s words settled in. "Wait… what do you mean I was invited to keep Peter busy?"

Natasha’s shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze for a moment before facing me again "Look, it wasn’t meant to be a big deal. Sharon didn’t want things to be awkward, you know? If you didn’t come, there would've been an odd number, and Steve didn’t want to leave Peter behind."

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So, I was invited to… what? Be Peter’s distraction?”

She shrugged, looking almost apologetic. "Well, it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You two are both nice people, right? It’s not like it was meant to offend you or anything"

I stared at her, still trying to process this. Peter? Then it hit me.

"What about Clementine?" I asked, my curiosity spiking. Last I heard, she and Peter were still together. Sure, she hadn’t been on the plane, but I figured maybe she was meeting up with us later. They were inseparable, after all.

Natasha shrugged again, but there was something uneasy in her eyes this time. "I don’t know. Sharon thinks they broke up, but…"

"But?" I pressed, sensing there was more to it.

She sighed, glancing away. "Clementine kind of just… disappeared. She stopped coming around, and Peter stopped talking about her. It’s weird, though. I don’t think anyone really knows what happened."

The room suddenly felt colder, and the walls seemed to close in again. Clementine disappeared? And now I was supposed to… what? Be Peter's distraction? None of this made sense, and yet, it felt like I was being pulled into something I wasn’t ready for.

I stared at Natasha, my mind spinning as she casually shrugged off the fact that Clementine had just disappeared. Clementine wasn’t the kind of girl to just vanish without a trace. She was... put together. Confident, smart, driven. The kind of girl who had her entire life mapped out from the moment she could walk.

Clementine had been a scholarship kid, just like me, but that’s where our similarities ended. She had that type of grace and poise that people like me only dreamed of. I remember seeing her around campus, always looking so polished, so in control, even though she came from a background as modest as mine. She had Peter wrapped around her finger—he adored her. At least, that’s what I’d always thought. They were practically inseparable.

The last time I heard anything about her, she was starting some fancy job after graduation, and Peter was supposedly gearing up to propose. That’s what people like Clementine did. She climbed the ladder, no matter where she came from, and she always seemed to have everything fall perfectly into place.

I couldn't wrap my head around this. How did she go from being Peter’s "forever" to just... disappearing? And now *I* was here? Supposed to "keep Peter busy" like some sort of replacement? None of this was making any sense.

Natasha’s voice brought me back to the moment. "Yeah, it was weird, right?" she continued, leaning back casually. "Peter just stopped mentioning her, like she never existed. He’s been pretty chill about the whole thing. But Sharon thinks they broke up, and... I don’t know, maybe she’s right. Maybe that’s why you’re here."

I shook my head, trying to process. "Clementine wouldn’t just disappear. She wasn’t like that. She had a plan, she was going to—"

Natasha cut me off. "Well, plans change, right? Maybe she wasn’t as perfect as you think. People always hide stuff. Maybe Peter saw something in her that no one else did."

The idea didn’t sit right with me. Clementine always seemed untouchable, like she had everything figured out. Now, she was just… gone. And here I was, caught in some ridiculous plan to "keep Peter busy."

I started gearing up to confront Sharon, but Natasha quickly stepped in front of me, stopping me before I could make it to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, her voice edged with concern.

"I just want to have a little chat with Sharon," I replied, trying to sidestep her. But Natasha moved again, blocking me. She lowered her voice, clearly not wanting to make a scene.

"You're being ridiculous. Just calm down and think about this." Her eyes darted around nervously. "This is supposed to be a vacation. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You could still enjoy yourself, Kiwi."

I paused and turned to face her, frustration bubbling up. "That was always the plan, but why did you have to tell me about Sharon’s little setup with Peter?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but it was sharp.

"I was just giving you a heads up," Natasha said softly, her eyes pleading.

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. But I couldn’t just let it go. Without saying another word, I turned and marched toward Sharon and Steve’s room, Natasha trailing behind me, still begging me to think it through.

When I reached the door, I didn’t hesitate—I slammed it open. There, on top of Steve, was Sharon, practically tangled up with him. She scrambled off him the second she saw me, her face flushed. Steve, on the other hand, just stayed where he was, smirking like the whole thing was a joke to him.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sharon snapped, straightening out her clothes.

I didn’t flinch. "I want to go home."

I thought about calling her out right then and there, exposing the whole plan about setting me up with Peter. But I couldn’t do that—not without throwing Natasha under the bus. As much as I was irritated with her, I wasn’t ready to burn that bridge. So I kept it simple.

"This whole trip has been uncomfortable for me since I got on the plane. If it’s going to be like this for a whole months I don’t want to stay."

Sharon's expression shifted, her irritation melting into a smirk. "Sure, whatever."

Just as I was about to turn and leave, Steve’s deep voice cut through the air. "No."

I froze, watching as Steve got up from the bed, his frame towering over me. It was then that I realized how much bigger he was compared to me. He took a step closer, his eyes locked on mine.

"Why not?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Steve gave me a cold, calculated smile. "The itinerary is already set, Kiwi. We can’t just change everything around because one person is feeling a little uncomfortable."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’ll pay you back," I offered, even though I knew it was a desperate move.

Steve laughed, a low, mocking sound. "You have over a hundred grand to pay back?"

My stomach dropped as he kept going. "I heard you were working at some factory for, what, twenty bucks an hour? I’m guessing since you suddenly had time for this trip, you lost that gig, huh?"

I could feel my face flushing as I tried to think of a way out. "I don’t need a private jet home," I said quietly. "Just a ride and an economy seat. I’ll figure it out."

Steve shook his head, stepping even closer. "You still owe me for your part of the trip," he said, his voice cold and final.

The reality of the situation hit me like a punch to the gut. I was trapped, and Steve was making damn sure I knew it.

Steve’s eyes softened as he stood in front of me, his posture relaxed, like he was trying to show he wasn’t a threat. He moved to block my way, but not in an intimidating way—it felt more like he was trying to keep me from making a mistake.

“You’re upset,” he said, his voice gentler now, almost coaxing. “I get it, Kiwi, I really do. But leaving right now? That’s not what you really want.”

I frowned, crossing my arms, my defenses already up. “I’m uncomfortable, Steve. Why would I stay?”

He sighed softly, brushing a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “Look, I get that things have been a little weird, but think about it. Going back home, what’s waiting for you there? Things weren’t exactly great, were they?”

I blinked, surprised by his words. It was vague, but it still struck a nerve. My chest tightened at the reminder of how suffocating life at home had been.

Steve stepped closer, but there was no malice in his movements. If anything, his presence felt like it was wrapping around me, enveloping me in something familiar yet foreign.

“Why rush back to all that?” he asked, his voice low, almost tender. “You’ve got a chance here to take a break, to really breathe.”

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. He wasn’t exactly wrong. I hadn’t been thrilled about the idea of going back to my parents’ house—being treated like I’d failed, like I was just in the way.

“That’s not the point,” I muttered, my voice not as strong as I wanted it to be. “I didn’t come here to feel like an outsider.”

Steve’s expression shifted, softening even more. He moved closer, but not threateningly—just enough to let me know he was serious. “You don’t have to. No one here is against you, Kiwi. You’ve got space here to be free, to enjoy yourself. You’re not stuck.”

His words, smooth and almost too perfect, started to chip away at my defenses. He wasn’t wrong. There was a kind of freedom here that I didn’t have back home. No hovering parents, no endless job hunt. Just sun, sand, and a chance to let go of the chaos.

“I just want you to give it a shot,” Steve continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “If, after a week, you still feel like this… I’ll make sure you get home. Personally. But for now, just relax. Let yourself enjoy it.”

I hesitated, my mind a tug-of-war between the stress and frustration that had been building and the calm that Steve was offering. He seemed so reasonable, so understanding. Was I just being paranoid? Maybe I needed to take a step back and see if things improved.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice soft. “I’ll stay. But just for a week.”

A slow smile spread across Steve’s face, his satisfaction clear, though he tried to hide it behind his cool demeanor. “Good. I knew you’d see things my way.”

He stepped back, giving me space, and for a moment, I felt the weight lift just a little. Natasha, who had been quietly watching, caught my eye, but her expression was hard to read. Maybe I wasn’t seeing the full picture. Or maybe I was just overthinking everything.

Am I making the right call? ***

Steve moved me out of the servant’s quarters and into a small, luxury room. It wasn’t anywhere near the others, but it was closer to the pool in the back, so I figured I could make do. At least it didn’t feel like a forgotten corner of the house.

As I unpacked, Natasha stayed with me, folding clothes and organizing things like she was trying to smooth over the mess from earlier.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, breaking the quiet. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, not entirely sure if I believed her or if she was just trying to stay on good terms. The side-eye I gave her must’ve said enough because she added, “Seriously, Kiwi. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

I sighed, my shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s fine,” I muttered. "Just... don’t spring shit like that on me again."

Natasha nodded, her expression softening. “I promise. I just want you to enjoy the trip. We all do.”

Enjoy the trip. Right. That’s what I kept telling myself. I needed to enjoy myself, no matter what. To hell with everyone else. To hell with Sharon’s power plays and the thinly veiled insults. To hell with my parents, and their endless nagging about how I should’ve been more like Sharon. To hell with all of it.

I glanced around my new room, taking in the sleek design, the comfortable bed, and the view of the pool. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe I could actually breathe for a while. Just focus on enjoying the sun, the beach, the space.

Yeah. Fuck everyone. I was going to make this trip mine.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar

Complete

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

[cheecats]

Can I request Shadowsight for the designs? Or maybe Frecklewish if you'd rather?

I'm curious what either would look like in your style! (Which I adore btw it's SO good)

i know Shadowsight is described as small in the books, but I prefer to interpret him with the Tigerstar(tm) tallness with Dovewing's build, and that he tends to shrink down/lower his voice while talking to appear as meek/non-threatening as possible because his peers get nervous around him

[rawliverandgoronspice]

One thing that TotK does constantly but really doesn't land for me when compared to BotW is that every NPC loves Zelda so much.

She is the sweetest, and she loves animals and is the very best at them, and she goes to every major landmark to spend time there and also she teaches the people secrets about the lands they have always lived in and they're like woow thanks zelda incredible I'll change my entire ways because you were just SO enlightening (Lurelin + Gerudo Town feeling particularly questionable here for obvious reasons), and she's so wise and beloved and talented --to the point that nobody (beyond the Zora King) even dares to question her actions when she starts acting off.

(Yunobo please stop letting her walk all over you, like it's alarming that you understand she basically brainwashed you and your entire race, and you're still running after her like a lost puppy for an explanation that will surely make everything make sense instead of, like, punting her into the sun? I know it's the eeeevil zelda, but that this situation could even remotely begin to happen feels... so offputting.)

In BotW, the rare mentions of Zelda worked because 1) she was an ancient figure and the modern hylians knew very little about her and would build her up as a legendary figure accordingly, 2) she was literally giving her life for them (I mean she kind of still does here but people do not know that or cannot infer that in any way --which is its own sort of problem), 3) she was extremely hard on herself, felt like a failure and... kind of was one (and she was given shit for it).

(also in BotW we are in a post-Hyrule kingdom world, while here we're living its re-foundation, and so it feels very... convenient that they excavate a previous version of their perfect kingdom to boister up the hylian claim upon the lands also --but that's beyond the topic)

So for anyone to give her grace and compassion in BotW, while a little eyeroll worthy at times, was endearing and made sense. None of this was her fault; she may have extreme power, but she didn't directly yield it --her imperfections the byproduct of a stressful situation every champion was being forced into due to the tides of fate. Also the king was criticized for being a little ruthless and asking too much of his subjects, including his own daughter. There was solidarity between you and everyone else at the same level.

But here? I don't know, it feels like the entire kingdom is terrified that the sheikah secret police will drag them back in the Bottom of the Well if they breathe wrong when talking about their beloved princess, it's so unsettling. I liked BotW Zelda, but... I don't know, I'm literally more comfortable around fake Zelda than the real one. Fake Zelda feels more like a real person that she does.

[s3xdollboy]

AAAAAAA

Not me thinking about the day my boyfriend can get his hands on me for real...

Totally not obsessing over the thought of him absolutely terrifying me and being so sickly sweet and uh "predatory"??

But like in a gentle yet threatening way the first time????

As in like- he's being gentle and saying such sweet things but it's all slightly threatening and and like he could like tear me apart whenever he wants too..

Like like im trembling despite being treated sweetly??

Like idk what's going on with me rn I feel like im going crazy- im crazy idfk I should stop thinking so much-

[selfless-solipsist]

My Dearest Enemy [7]

◤• Commander Peepers x Reader • ◢

╰┈➤ This is not slow burn at all and with a serious tone (just saying!). This is THE SEVENTH CHAPTER, you can read the rest here:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/222059481-my-dearest-enemy

Chapter Seven: They Keep On Coming

The second-in-command of Lord Hater's army sat in his small, dark cell, his eye narrowed with anger. He had been in there for days, and he was absolutely furious. There was no way that his leader, his friend, really had the gall to lock him up like a common criminal. It was ridiculous, comical in a sense even. However, it didn't stop the small watchdog from cursing at himself for daring to stand up to his superior. 

After all, it was his fault that he ended up in such a humiliating place.

And so, Peepers was seething in his cell, his tiny fists clenched tightly. He paced back and forth, the cold, hard walls of the prison doing little to temper his fury. His small frame was shaking with anger, his eye red with frustration. The atmosphere was tense, the air heavy with the weight of his bottled-up emotions. The alien was completely, unwaveringly pissed off and it was evident in every inch of his form.

"Great job, Peepers! Way to show your superior how loyal and respectful you really are!" He raised his voice, the unwanted situation making him lecture himself.

The walls echoed back his sarcastic voice, a cold reminder of his current circumstances. He was trapped like an enemy, all because he dared to speak his mind. It was a ridiculous situation, a hysterical and humiliating one and it only added fuel to his already blazing anger. But deep down, he knew that he had pushed Hater too far, crossed a line he couldn't cross... or at least the skeleton couldn't tolerate.

Peepers sighed, rubbing a hand to his head, and continued pacing. His thoughts were as restless as he was. He remembered his outburst, his defiance, and the cold, angry expression on his superior's face. He could still feel his heart beating fast, the memory triggering his pent-up frustration. He muttered to himself, cursing his own stupidity and stubbornness. "Great, just great." he mumbled, self-loathing dripping from his tongue. "You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?"

With his tone more sorrowful, the echo of his footsteps sounded mocking and harsh in the cramped space. He was isolated and alone with nothing to do but stew in his degradation. His mind kept replaying the moment, the one where he should have kept his composure, but instead, he allowed his emotions to get the best of him. It wasn't just disappointment in himself, there was also a tinge of bitterness toward his leader.

Hater, the Lord he admired and respected so much, had locked him away without a second thought. Like he truthfully didn't mean anything to him.

Their companionship meant nothing.

His devotion meant nothing.

H̷i̷t̸ ̷l̶o̸y̴a̴l̷t̸y̴ ̷m̶e̶a̵n̵t̴ ̸n̵o̶t̷h̸i̶n̴g̸.̶

As that thought crossed his mind, a spark of defiance began to stir within him. Anger replaced his previous feelings of self-loathing and self-blame. He was the Commander, for Grop's sake. The egoistical skeleton was the one who was acting like a petulant child, not him. His words were justified. His outrage was too. "If Hater wants to act like a child, then so be it!" He said to himself, his displeasure bubbling up higher as he crossed his arms. "THAT'S FINE BY ME!"

But he glared at no one.

He was alone.

As he stood there, seething in his frustration, Peepers began to notice just how quiet and still the prison he found himself in was. The only sound he could hear was the steady echo of his own breathing. The complete lack of any kind of stimulation made his situation feel even more bleak.

He glanced up at the small window in the cell wall. It was letting in a feeble, almost laughable amount of light, not enough to see by, but enough to highlight the cramped, dank nature of his new accommodation. The bars were thick, and the iron looked ancient and unwavering. There was no getting through them, not without serious tools and a lot of time.

And Peepers had neither.

"Yeah, right." He muttered to himself. "Like there's any chance of escaping this place. Hater would never let a cell be weak enough to be escaped from-"

Oh wait. He would.

The second-in-command nearly smacked his forehead. "Of course!" He shook his head at his own obliviousness. "That orange weirdo and the zbornack escape all the time, how could I forget that? But..." He looked around the place with a critical eye, trying to find any signs of weakness. "I don't see any loose bars, or holes, or anything that would allow for easy escape." He stood up and began prowling around, running his hands over the stone walls and searching for any hidden chinks or faults. But no matter how many times he circled the tiny space, he couldn't find anything that would help him.

"Curses." He placed his hands on his hips, stomping his foot impatiently. Of course Hater would make sure his cell was rock solid and unbreakable, while those two idiots could escape their with ease. Figures.

The irony and unfairness of the situation only added to the watchdog's mounting anger. He was the skeleton's most loyal (well not anymore) and competent Commander, and yet there he was, stuck in prison with no chance of escaping. "Unbelievable!" His hands balled into fists as his eye narrowed in irritation. "This is ridiculous! I didn't even know we had a prison like this! How come we never used it on them?!"

Even in a situation like that, he once again was reminded how incompetent his leader was.

"Unacceptable." He grumbled, his mind racing with plans and schemes, trying to find an escape route, any way out of that humiliating predicament. But the more he thought about it, the more impossible the task seemed. "There has to be a way out of here." He said, more to himself than to anyone else. "A weak spot, a crack in the wall, something."

He went back to the wall and started searching again, his fingers tracing over every crevice and crack in the stone. He knocked at different spots, listening for any changes in sound that might indicate a hollowness, an opening, anything that could lead to an escape route. But no matter how many times he went over the same ground, he found nothing. Not a loose stone, not a gap in the mortar, not even a hint of a chink the cell's structure.

Frustrated, Peepers slammed his fist against the wall, the impact sending a jolt of pain up his arm. "THIS CAN'T-" He gritted his teeth and let out a growl of irritation, his anger and desperation growing by the second. "HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!" He yelled, his voice echoing off the cold walls. "How did Hater build the perfect prison, one that not even a watchdog can escape from?! It's not logical! It's not right!"

"Oh, trust me, he didn't build the perfect cell."

Wait. Who was that?

...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" The commander jumped in the air, terrified. "WHAT-?!" He wheeled around, his eye widening when he heard the mocking tone. Though the moment his gaze landed on the person, the tension fell from his veins, and his eyelid moved down as his orb narrowed in annoyance.

___, of course.

The human woman was leaning casually against the metal door, her arms crossed and a sly smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. She was dressed in her usual outfit, looking relaxed and at ease in the most casual way possible, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and mockery. Something that wasn't all that surprising.

Peepers felt his resolve wavering, the sight of her stirring up a mix of feelings inside him. He steeled himself and cleared his throat, trying not to show his vulnerability. And hoping that she wouldn't comment his.. not-very-commander-like scream. "H-How in the hell do you keep slipping in and out of here undetected?!" He asked, his tone trying to sound authoritative, but the waver in his voice made it clear he was anything but.

To his dismay, she chuckled, her smile growing wider as she pushed off the door and sauntered closer to him. Her footsteps echoed through his small cell, the sound adding to the uncomfortable pang in his chest. "I have my ways." She responded slyly, her eyes fixed on his like a predatory cat.

The small watchdog watched her approach, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Confusion, annoyance, and, unfortunately, a flicker of attraction. Damn her. He gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, trying to maintain his professionalism even though she was getting on his last nerves. Ever since their last encounter he longed for her, but in that situation, he really didn't want to have anything to do with her mocking attitude.

Though the woman paid his frustration no mind, stopping in front of the cell door, one hand on her hip. "I never expected to see you in here." She commented, clearly amused.

Peepers scoffed, trying to put up a cool facade despite the emotions raging within him. "That makes two of us." He muttered, his eye still narrowing at her slender form. He hated the way she was taking pleasure in his predicament and the way she seemed so casually at ease.

At his words she raised an eyebrow. "Really?" Her tongue was absolutely filled with sarcasm, enjoying the sight of the commander alone and helpless. "Because after our last encounter, I assumed you would be in here a lot sooner."

Their last encounter? He remembered it quite vividly. Grop, the thought alone almost made him shiver.

The man bristled at her remark. It was a jab at his loyalty to Hater, a reminder of his weakness and disobedience. He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to hold back a retort. It wouldn't do him any good to get into an argument with her, not in that moment. "And what exactly are you doing here?" He asked, his tone guarded but trying to hide the flicker of curiosity.

She leaned in, looking at him through the bars with a smug expression. "I just wanted to see how you're doing. After all, you were pretty clear about your loyalty to Hater not that long ago." Her eyes were then half-lidded as she reminded him of their last conversation back at his quarters.

His hands clenching into fists, he stepped closer to the bars, his demeanor defensive and a bit defiant. "So you're really going to hold that against me, huh?" He snapped, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. "You're going to come all the way here, right onto the Skullship, just to mock me for trying to salvage my position?!"

The human almost snorted, enjoying the fact she was getting under his skin. "I wouldn't exactly call your current situation 'salvaged'." She gestured in amusement to him. "You're in a cell, after all." As she spoke, she casually traced her fingers along the metal, in an almost patronizing way, watching him closely with a sly expression.

Peepers felt his eye twitch. He wanted to snap back at her, to show that he wasn't as affected by her taunts as she hoped. Unfortunately, she was absolutely right, and he couldn't deny the situation he found himself in. His expression morphed into an angry scowl, his fists balling up at his sides, but he held back a biting retort. "Shut up." He grumbled, his embarrassment making him look away from her sickly delighted gaze.

At that the woman chuckled again, her amusement growing. She was obviously enjoying the situation, his reactions. She leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand and her elbow on the bars, watching him like a predator watches its prey. "I'm just surprised, is all." She said with a hint of mock innocence. "I thought you were Hater's loyal lapdog."

Oh, that little-

"I AM NOT A LAPDOG!" The watchdog retorted, his voice harsh. "I am Lord Hater's Commander, his most loyal and competent officer. I may have made a mistake in standing up to him, but that doesn't change who i am, or the duties I perform for him!" He placed his hands on the sides of his hips and proudly puffed out his chest, closing his scarlet orb in a confident manner.

Though ___ only raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a mixture of interest and doubt. "Is that so?" She said, tilting her head. "And what duties are those, exactly? Fetching Hater's slippers? Polishing his throne? Barking on command?"

Upon hearing her words, the commander's eye flashed with the color red. "THAT'S RIDICULOUS!" He snapped, growing more and more defensive. "I AM NOT SOME DOG, FOLLOWING HATER'S EVERY COMMAND LIKE A MINDLESS SHEEP! I AM A COMMANDER, A MILITARY LEADER! I PLAN AND STRATEGIZE, I LEAD MY SOLDIERS INTO BATTLE, I-"

"Oh really?" She interjected, her voice more taunting. "You 'plan and strategize'? Let's see... You planned to stand up to Hater, even though you knew he wouldn't like it. You strategized yourself into being imprisoned, which was also incredibly genius, by the way."

Grop, how right she was. He hated it.

Peepers gritted his teeth, his temper rising. He had to remind himself not to snap, not to let her bait him further. "My actions might have been... misguided." He admitted, visibly still defensive. "But I am Hater's right-hand, his commander. My loyalty doesn't waver easily!" He stood up tall, trying to show her that he, in spite or recent events, believed in his role and dedication to the electric skeleton.

"It's all just a minor setback." He continued, trying to keep his voice steady and confident. "I will be back at Hater's side in no time!" With that he crossed his arms, trying to appear composed even though inside, his mind was a whirlwind. The situation was embarrassing, the mockery annoying, and the human's continued presence was distracting. Truthfully, it was all a bad combination and the watchdog didn't enjoy it in the least.

And yet as he looked at her, meeting her sly gaze, a different kind of feeling was beginning to grow within him. A flicker of doubt, a hint of confusion. Her words were getting to him, her pure existence unsettling him in ways he didn't want to admit. And so he forced himself to focus, to shake off the thoughts she was stirring inside of his villainous heart.

He took a deep breath, his fists then clenched by his sides. She was just a smug, annoying human, a constant thorn in his side. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a pesky threat that needed to be dealt with. "Enough of your taunting." He snapped, trying once again to sound authoritative. "I won't let you get the better of me." With that he gazed at her, his eye still narrowed.

There was no way that he would crumble. No way.

The woman tilted her head slightly in response to his declaration, a small smile tugging at her lips as she crouched down to look into his eye on the same level. "Is that so?" And with that, she grabbed his uniform through the bars and pulled him towards herself, her mouth crashing with his in a passionate kiss.

W-What?!

Peepers' surprise was palpable. Her confidence, her audacity and tenacity, it was everything he found infuriating, but he also couldn't deny the attraction he felt toward her. He hated the power she had over him, the pull she had over his senses, the way she could make him forget everything and melt into her touch. That's why he pushed against her, trying to regain some control, but he soon found himself powerless. The sensation turning his brain into mush, as a giant fog covered his logical thought.

The act of affection lasted for what felt like eternity. His mind spun with the mixture of his anger, frustration, annoyance, and the growing desire that she always seemed to ignite within him. He despised himself for it, for being so weak. For the way his body responded to her without his permission. It wasn't right. He was breathless, his thoughts nonexistent. His hand gripped the cell bars, trying to find something solid to ground his small form. But her lips had overpowered his senses, making him unable to focus on anything else.

In a way, it was comforting.

But... he knew that it was also wrong.

He broke away from her with a gasp, trying to catch his breath, to compose himself. His mind was a jumbled mess, his emotions at war within him. The kiss had left him unsteady, wanting to keep sucking those sinful lips, but he knew better. He knew he had to be the smart one, the one who saw past the woman's charm. Though his scarlet orb kept wandering back to her mouth, her cocky and smug expression, the teasing glimmer in her eyes.

Hater was his friend, his leader, his ally through countless battles and conquests. For years he longed for any sort of appreciation from the skeleton. He owed his allegiance to him, and yet, there he was, kissing a human who was trying to convince him otherwise. It didn't make sense, but he was struggling to find the will to resist. He was a devoted commander, even if he dared to stand up for himself once. His loyalty should never waver.

However, she was making him question it.

___'s orbs narrowed at his reaction, her smile growing wider. She knew he was fighting inside. She could see the flicker of doubt, the hints of conflict within. He was already wavering, the desire she sparked was clouding his judgment and it was making her proud of herself. She realized that she had already gotten to him, to those deep, buried desires he had. "You were saying, Commander?" She teased, her voice filled with satisfaction.

Hearing her words, the sides of his eye started to flare with a familiar pink tint.

Peepers found her smug expression and acts irritating. He hated how amused she looked, acting like she had already won. He had to maintain his composure, prove that she hadn't already pierced through his walls. Inside of him was a need to say something, anything, to defend himself and his devotion to Hater. But his mind was conflicted, his heart racing, his breath still coming in short gasps after being kissed by her.

He loathed how she made him feel.

With a quick blink, he muttered, his voice a mix of anger and blame. "This is your fault." It was so easy to say that, but harder to think. "If you hadn't come here, if you hadn't... opened my eye... I would still be blissfully ignorant, blindly loyal to Hater." A sigh escaped his nonexistent lips as he leaned his head against one of the bars. "You've messed everything up, ruined it."

He clenched his fists, his orb narrowing slightly. He wanted to blame her, to cast her as the villain, the reason for his current predicament. But deep down, he knew it wasn't that simple. She wasn't entirely to blame, she was just the catalyst. The spark that had ignited the fire of doubt and rebellion within him. Something that existed long before he even knew her, but didn't have enough courage or time to admit.

"You just waltz in here, causing chaos and upheaval where you go!" He went on, his gaze moving to her tall form as he spoke. "You turn everything upside down, you mess with peoples' heads!" His eye darted in panic across her features, searching for something, anything that could prove that he wasn't just delusional. "You're- You're meddling, manipulative, dangerous!" He spat the last word like it was venom on his tongue, but even if so, deep inside he didn't quite believe it himself. It didn't make sense.

He took a step closer to the bars, his eye locked on hers. "And yet... I can't stop thinking about you. Ever since the first time we met, I can't get you out of my mind. I keep replaying our conversations in my head, I keep thinking about what you said about me, about Hater, about us..." Peepers felt his anger draining away, replaced by a mixture of confusion and vulnerability. He shouldn't be admitting these things, he should be maintaining his distance, his pride. But he couldn't help it.

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He asked, his voice frustrated and helpless. "Why do you have this... effect on me?" There was a hint of confusion, but also affection. Something he didn't exactly wish for her to know, and yet he felt the need to say it either way. "It's like every time I see you, every time I hear your voice, everything just... stops making sense."

Ẃ̸͔͗̈͑̓̍ẖ̶͂̒̋̓̿̏̿ý̷͈͉̪͙͓̹͑̂͑́͒̊?̸̢̟͕͍͋̀

Peepers' words echoed around them, the confessions pouring out of him like a dam breaking. And all the while, ___ watched him, her cold eyes seeing right through his carefully constructed defense. She didn't talk, she just listened, her mannerism nonchalant. There was not a single hint of emotion hiding behind her expression. Truly, it was quite... strange.

But then, she laughed.

The watchdog froze, his orb widening at the sound of her unexpected hysterics. He had expected a biting retort, another mocking comment, but not that. And what scared him the most was that the sound was both irritating and beautiful, the thought alone sent a chill down his spine. "What- What are you laughing at?" He asked, clearly puzzled. "This isn't funny, I'm-"

Before he could finish his sentence, she stepped closer, her gaze locked on his. Her smile was both mocking and sultry, her voice a whispered tease. "Isn't it obvious, Commander?" She tilted her head, the smile never leaving her lips. "I'm laughing at you."

For a second, everything stood still.

Peepers' heart skipped a beat at her declaration, her sudden proximity sending a rush of heat through his body. He was taken aback by her audacity, yet he couldn't deny the thrill that shot through him as she leaned in towards him, her body just inches away from his own. It was one of these moments that he couldn't really understand her, no matter how much he wished he could. It was a desire, not only to acquire knowledge but to also find out her thinking process. She was a human, he didn't know how her race worked, he's never met one before. And additionally, she was the only person that made him question everything.

How bizarre was that?

The woman noticed his dazed expression and it only made her smirk widen as she continued speaking. "You just spent all this time complaining about how I've disrupted your life, how I've made everything a mess." She said. her tone still amused. "And yet, here you are, practically confessing your feelings for me." It was a low, seductive murmur in his invisible ear, something that made him shiver unknowingly.

His villainous heart started hammering in his chest, his breath catching in his throat at her words. He hadn't quite realized how close she was, how her breath was brushing against his face. All of that was too much for him to handle. He wanted to deny it, to protest her ridiculous claim, but somehow the observation was hard to ignore and his mind was reeling. "I-I'm not 'confessing' anything!" He tried feebly, his voice betraying his fluster. "You're twisting everything I say to fit your narrative."

He didn't have any 'feelings' for her, did he?

That would be impossible. He was a villain, not some hopeless romantic!

Though the warmth on his cheeks surely said otherwise.

"Oh, really?" She questioned with a sly smile. "So you're saying you don't have the thought of me swirling around your mind on a regular basis?" As she spoke, she leaned even closer, her lips hovering just a hair's breadth away from his. The movement alone reminded him of the kiss they shared just moments ago, his mind filling with the memory. "And you don't feel the slightest hint of... attraction towards me?" She continued, her voice dripping with mockery and desire.

The watchdog felt his resolve weakening with each word, everything sending a mixture of embarrassment and... something more through him. He found himself leaning closer, as though he was pulled towards her by a magnetic force. It was irritating and intoxicating at the same time, and he hated it. "Don't be ridiculous." He growled, trying to sound defiant but it came out as a pathetic whisper. "I would never feel..." His voice trailed off, his eye meeting hers. That mocking gaze of hers alone sent a jolt of electricity through him, he could feel the tension between them thickening with each passing second.

___ could see the flicker in his scarlet orb, the hesitation and frustration. No matter how much he tried to deny it, she knew she had him right where she wanted him. She could see the internal conflict swirling within him, the confusing thoughts and emotions that she stirred. "You can deny it all you want." She whispered, her tone like silk. "But your body can't lie to me, Commander." As she spoke, her hand reached through the bars, cupping his chin, her touch making him shiver. It was like a drug, something that made his mind spin. "And you could have all this if you just let go of your little loyalty."

Her words felt like a siren's song, tempting and alluring. She was offering him something forbidden, something that went against everything he stood for. Not only power, but also herself. It was strange, sweetly horrible, and yet the desire to give in felt unbearable. His mind was a mixture of anger, lust, and the fear of betraying his leader, a raging storm.

"You have the potential for so much more than serving that idiot." She continued, her voice low and persuasive. "You're a brilliant tactician, a natural leader. You could rule the galaxy far more efficiently and effectively than Hater ever could." It was a pierce through his defenses, hitting their mark with painful precision.

He could almost see the image she was painting in his head, the galaxy at his feet, under his control, with the skeleton defeated. The power, the satisfaction of ruling in his own right, it was- No. "You're tempting me." He muttered, conflict and desire rolling off his tongue. "You're making me question everything, it's... wrong." He pulled back slightly, even as her touch tempted him to come closer, to give in.

Her lips turned into something resembling a pout, though softer. "Why is it wrong?" She whispered, her hand staying exactly where it was, refusing to let him create any space between them. She was close, so teasing, so alluring. "Why is it wrong to want to rule? To seek power? To become the ruler of the galaxy instead of just Lord Hater's loyal lapdog?" Her words were as dangerous as her touch. She was telling him the very thoughts he had tried to push away, the dark fantasies he had refused to admit to himself.

And they were starting to work.

"Imagine it." She murmured, it was a seductive sound in his ear. "All the power you could wield, all the planets at your feet. You could make things right, impose order and justice, rule with an iron fist."

Peepers felt a shiver run down his spine, her sultry tone sending bolts of heat and excitement through his tiny form. The more she talked, the more power and glory she was describing, it called to him. Spoke to the dark, hungry part of him that longed for control and dominance. The image in his mind alone was enough to make him crave more.

Seeing his reaction, she continued. "And I would be there, at your side." Her voice dropped lower, more intimate. "As your advisor, your partner, your... enforcer." Her words were like a symphony, playing him like a musical instrument. He felt his resolve beginning to crumble as her hand started moving down on his chest and lower, the heat within him growing with each sentence. She was offering him everything he wanted, and he was desperately conflicted. The part of him that craved control and power couldn't help but salivate at the proposal, but a stubborn part of him still clung to loyalty, to his devotion.

He needed to resist.

"Think about it." She continued, her tone a seductive purr. "No more taking orders from an incompetent fool, no more being pushed around like you're expendable. You would be the one giving the orders, making decisions." Saying that, her fingers moved down, resting against the tip of his belt. "Wouldn't that feel good?"

Holy Grop. That woman was intense.

The watchdog, finding a shred of clarity amidst the whirlwind of emotions, forced himself to speak, his voice a tense whisper. "Why?" He asked, his eye locking on hers. "Why are you offering me this?" He felt a flicker of suspicion, a hint of confusion. He needed to understand her motives, to be sure it wasn't some elaborate trap. The feeling and effects of her touch still lingered, his body tensing as she continued her seduction. She was speaking his desires, but he had to be cautious. He wasn't so lost to her allure that he didn't have his doubts, his suspicions, his questions. "Why would you want to offer me power, help me rule?" He asked, his tone tinged with doubt. "What's in it for you?"

His inquiry hung in the air between them. Her motives, her true intentions were a mystery to him. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the thought that she wasn't just a helpful ally. She was a human, a stranger in their galaxy. He needed to be cautious, even though his whole form was responding to her touch and words. He had to make sense of the situation, of her intentions. She was a puzzle, an enigma that he dared to uncover.

However, the question made the woman smirk, her fingers trailing even lower. She was enjoying the effect she had on him, the war raging within. "Isn't it obvious?" She whispered, her hand stopping in place. She let the words hang in the air for a moment, her eyes glimmering with a mix of anticipation and amusement. Leaning in, she traced her fingers over his ahem, and then returned them to his chest. "I want to rule alongside you."

Peepers decided to ignore the sensation she left on his lower body, though the red tint on his cheeks spoke otherwise. Either way, his confusion was growing alongside his desire for power. ___, a human and even a friend of Wander, wanting to rule? It was an unexpected revelation. There had to be more to that, more to her motives. "Why would you want that?" He asked, his voiced laced with suspicion. "You're Wander's friend and you're a human. Why would you want to help me take over the Galaxy?"

Her sly smirk was replaced by a devilish grin as she leaned closer, her body pressing against his as much as it could through the bars. She knew she was getting to him, pushing his suspicion aside with her admission. "Because I want you." She whispered, her declaration loaded with meaning and desire. "I see in you a lust for power and control that you don't let yourself indulge in. With me as your partner... we could rule together."

The alien felt a jolt of excitement mixed with confusion as her words sank in, his heart skipping a beat once more. The was she spoke, her tone, her touch, they were designed to stir him. Her claim of wanting him was unexpected, but it felt like a validation, a testament to her own attraction towards him. But even if so, he couldn't let his emotions cloud his judgment. He had to stay vigilant, no matter the fact that her sentences were like the sweetest poison to his ears. And so he kept his eye fixed on hers, his expression a mix of shock, confusion, and a hint of temptation.

"You..." He started, his voice trailing off, his mind spinning. The idea of him and her ruling together was alluring, way too alluring. A part of him wanted to give in, to take what she was offering. Power, control, and her by his side. But he couldn't shake the suspicions, the doubts. "You, a human, why do you want me to rule?"

Peepers wasn't dumb, he knew about the history of her race, that's why the question was even more important. It didn't make sense for a human to want an alien to be in charge. Because of that his mind was a whirlwind of feelings, his curiosity now rivaling his desire. She was a mystery, a riddle he found both enticing and infuriating.

Though the woman's lips pulled into a satisfied smile in response. Her hand once more started sliding down his chest, her touch lingering. Her admission of wanting him was a clear reminded of her intentions. She was determined to make him hers, to make him realize the potential they had together. "Because I see the leader in you, the one who's been hiding for so long." She whispered. "Power-hungry, dominant, capable. You're the one I want." Her breath was like a kiss against his skin, a sensation that clouded all logical thought.

The watchdog felt her hand, her words hitting him like a punch. Power-hungry, dominant... those adjectives were everything he had craved for so long, the things he had held back. Hearing them from her made his heart beat faster, heat blooming in his chest. She was hitting his buttons, pushing his deepest desires. He tried to maintain his composure, but it was difficult. Yet, he couldn't dismiss his lingering suspicions. He couldn't trust her fully.

Or himself, for that matter.

"You... you think that of me?" He asked, his tone a mix of vulnerability and curiosity. He studied her face, her eyes, searching for any hint of manipulation or deception. After all, nobody ever gave him praise, no one noticed his assets. Knowing that she could, it was like a dream come true.

And she seemed to notice his suspicions, her gaze softening. It was such a stark contrast from her usual sly smirk. It left him reeling, her approach shifting to something different, something pure. And so he continued to gaze into her orbs, trying to decipher her motives, the septum still there but her change throwing him off. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was manipulating him, he wanted to stay wary, but her new tactic was disarming, making his guard falter.

"Don't think so hard, Peepers." She whispered, a sultry chuckle mixed with a hint of amusement. "You get all adorably flustered." As she spoke, her hand reached for his cheek, her touch lingering. It was like a symphony of confusion for him. Her words were honeyed, her touch a subtle act of control. He wanted to resist, but her attempt at softness was like a velvet trap, pulling him into its warmth. "You don't have to resist." She continued in a soothing tone, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Just say yes." Her voice so close that he could feel her breath against his neck, could smell her sweet, intoxicating scent. "Say yes, Peepers. Come with me."

The feeling of her touch and fragrance was dizzying, a mix of arousal and unease. He tried to resist her charms, his instincts screaming at him to run, to not fall for her manipulations. But her words, her voice, her proximity... it felt like she was wrapping him in a web of temptation, her offer like the most enticing poison.

He swelled, his breath hitching at her closeness. His eye trailed across her features, from her face to her body. He didn't understand it, didn't understand how a human, one that he didn't even know that well, could make him question his whole life. She was a toxin, a forbidden fruit that he shouldn't think of eating. And yet... he felt the tug at her proposal, the allure of it all.

In that moment his defenses crumbled, leaving him bare to her advances.

He couldn't deny it any longer.

"Yes." He said quietly, his voice barely audible. It was like a breath of surrender, a small admission against his better judgment. He was giving in, letting himself hope that it was real.. that she wasn't just taking control of him. The watchdog didn't know what the future held, didn't know the dangers that her offer could bring. But he couldn't push away his desires, not with her so close, her words so sweet, her touch so tempting.

He was caught, and deep down, he wanted to be.

The human leaned back slightly, a satisfied smile spreading across her face, her lips curling around a smirk. She had him. His declaration, his surrender, it was the victory she wanted, the opening she needed. But, she had to make sure he was completely caught, completely and utterly hers. And so, her hand gently caressed his face (eye), her touch soft and inviting, her orbs locked on his. "Good choice, Commander." She whispered, the sound filled with a mixture of triumph and desire.

She felt the tension between them, the heat of the moment, and she intended to keep him wrapped around her finger. With that in her mind, she leaned in once more, her lips pressing against his... eyelid (?). She still didn't understand how a kiss between a watchdog and a human worked, but oh well, it was good either way. However, contrary to their previous sharing of saliva, the one she started then was softer, almost vulnerable.

Peepers felt a new kind of heat spreading through him as her lips pressed against his, a pure sensation that sent shivers up his spine. It felt different, softer, almost affectionate. The contrast with their previous, passion-filled kisses was jarring, and it left him momentarily dazed. He leaned into the gesture, the sensation so different from everything they shared before. He couldn't believe how it was happening, how her presence was making him forget everything else in the whole world.

Her kiss, her touch, it was addictive, like a symphony playing in his ear. He could barely think straight, barely find the words or coherent thoughts in his mind. He had completely given in to the temptation, the desire she ignited in him. He wanted more, to get lost in her embrace. And so he pressed his body against hers, his hand reaching for her arm, trying to pull her even closer. "Don't hold back." He whispered softly, his voice hoarse with desire. He couldn't believe how much he craved her, how desperate he had become for her touch, her words, her proximity.

And she could sense the surrender in his movement, his sentence. His desires mirrored hers, his body pressed against hers in an attempt of closeness, a silent plea for more. Her lips curled slightly into a smirk as she lost herself in the sensation. "Don't hold back." She echoed, her mouth lingering against his eye. Before he could react, she deepened the kiss. It was then deeper, hungry, tinged with a mix of dominance and passion, as if she was marking a claim over him, making him hers.

The watchdog felt the intensity of the gesture, the lust and control. When she pulled away, he felt a flicker of disappointment, but it was quickly replaced with relief as he saw her stand, her focus clear. He tried to regain his composure, his mind a mix of emotions. He was in too deep already, he knew it. And so he watched her, his scarlet orb holding a hint of anticipation, of eagerness to see what she planned next.

With a determined glint in her eyes, the human female stood up. She knew exactly what she had to do. She needed to get him out of the cell, take Hater out, and claim the ship for their plan to move forward. And so she spoke, her voice low and commanding. "Stay here, Commander." Her eyes burned with fire, a flame of calculation, and something else.

Before he could retort, say that 'Of course he'll stay there, he can't escape on his own!', he could only watch as she disappeared in the darkness. Her sudden display of dominance had him stunned, a part of him wanting her to return right then and there. He was a little irritated at himself for his own weakness, for how easily he had succumbed to her allure. And so he stood in the silence, her presence leaving a strange void behind. He hated not knowing what she had in mind, but he trusted her, his suspicions put on hold for now.

But then...

"PEEEEEEPERS!" A loud, booming voice, echoed in the distance.

The watchdog's heart sank as he recognized the voice. Hater. The very person he had been plotting to betray, it was like he knew about the whole conversation with the human, coming exactly as they finished. But Peepers pushed the thought aside, plastering a stoic expression on his face, not wanting to show any signs of weakness. He mentally prepared himself for the imminent confrontation, bracing for the skeleton's usual brand of mockery and taunting.

However, it would soon end.

The door to the prison opened, and Hater strode in, a smug smile on his face. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite little Commander." He stopped in front of the small alien's cell, peering in at him with a mix of amusement and condescension. Though as he noticed the silence of his subordinate and the defiant glare, he let out a chuckle. "Look at you, trying to be tough. HA!" He leaned in closer to the bars, his smile widening. "But I can see right through you, Peepers. You're just hiding that you're shaking in your wittle boots." He placed a finger on his cheek and did a stupid pose, fake tears welling up in his eyes... and also sticking his backside out in a comical way.

Peepers bristled at the condescending tone and obnoxious gestures. It was exactly the kind of behavior that had driven him away in the first place. He clenched his fists, restraining himself from reaching through the bars to smack that stupid smirk off Hater's face. But he kept his composure, refusing to let the skeleton see anything that would show him as pathetic.

"Awww, is lil' Peepers feeling abandoned? Did I hurt your feewings by locking you up?" The 'lord' continued his taunting. He feigned a pout, looking at his second-in-command with exaggerated sympathy. The sight was amusing to him, so sickly sweet that he couldn't stop himself from acting so childish.

Though the watchdog wasn't enjoying the situation, instead he gritted his teeth, his eye blazing with anger. "Save your concern for someone who cares, Sir." He snapped, the title still slipping from his tongue despite his want for rebellion. "I'm more than capable of handling myself."

Hater chuckled at his biting tone, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, I'm not worried Peepers." He said, smirking. "I just thought you might be lonely, you know, since you're all alone in there." With that he leaned on the bars of the cell, his grin growing wider. "But you know what they say." He drawled, his voice dripping with false pity. "When you're alone, you a lot of time to think." Saying that, he reached through the bars and ruffled Peepers' helmet mockingly, knowing how much it irritated him.

The watchdog angrily swatted his hand away, quickly adjusting the top part of his armour. "I don't need your fake sympathy, Sir." He grumbled. "And as for being alone, at least it means I don't have to listen to your constant whining and ego-stroking." With that he moved back, leaning against the wall of the cell, crossing his arms and fixing his superior with a glare. "Besides, I prefer my own company over yours any day."

Though in a different situation, it would be the thing that he longed for.

Hater's smirk wavered slightly, his ego bruised by the biting retort. He also crossed his arms, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "Is that so, huh?" He retorted. "Well, you know what, Peepers? I don't really care. In fact, I'm glad you're in there. It saves me the trouble of dealing with your annoying advice and nitpicking all the time."

Peepers let out a scoff, rolling his eye at the comment. "Oh please." He sneered. "You would be lost without my advice and nitpicking. You would probably have destroyed the entire galaxy by now if it wasn't for me reminding you to wear your pants every day." Saying that, he could almost feel a smirk forming on his - nonexistent - lips.

The skeleton's face scrunched up in anger at his subordinate's jibe, but he tried to hide it behind a sly smile. "Ha! Yeah, right. I've been doing just fine without you. In fact, things have been a lot less annoying around here since you were locked up!" His tone was confident, but there was a hint of uncertainty in it as well. He knew damn well that ever since he threw his commander in prison they haven't conquered a single planet.

He wouldn't admit it though.

Peepers raised an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly. "I'm sure." He retorted sarcastically. "I bet you've been making all sorts of great decisions without me. Like the time you accidentally turned on the self-destruct switch while trying to program the coffee maker."

The face of his leader reddened at the memory, but he tried to play it off, puffing out his chest. "That was a one-time thing, Peepers!" He protested, his voice indignant. "AND I DIDN'T DO IT ON PURPOSE!"

"Of course, Sir." The watchdog replied dryly. "And I'm sure that the time you launched all of our Eye Fighters into deep space was also an accident, right?"

Hater huffed, his ego bruised by the reminders of his past mistakes. "Well, you know, even the greatest villains make mistakes, Peepers!" He blustered, attempting to defend himself. "At least I'm brave enough to be out there making decision, unlike you, hiding in that cell like a coward!"

An awkward silence followed after his words, but then-

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO PUT ME IN HERE!!!" The commander jumped in anger.

The skeleton's face turned an even deeper shade of red at Peepers' retort. He let our a frustrated yell, stomping his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. "WELL, YOU DESERVED IT, YOU LITTLE KNOW-IT-ALL!!!" He shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at his second-in-command. "You're always questioning my commands and undermining my authority! You think you're so smart, don't you, Peepers?! But guess what? I'M THE RULER HERE, NOT YOU!"

Peepers didn't back down, his own temper flaring. "AND WHAT A FINE RULER YOU'VE BEEN!" He spat back, the sarcasm rolling off his angered tongue. "Destroying planets, terrorizing innocent people, and crashing your own ships! You act like you're such a big, scary villain, but you're really just a BIG, DUMB CHILD THROWING A TANTRUM!" He threw his hands in the air to emphasize his point.

And it was true, Hater never managed to conquer planets competently. Every time they managed to do it, it was because of the commander only. And even then the skeleton found a way to mess everything up by going after the orange fuzzball like an absolute moron.

But the taller villain only stomped his foot again, his face twisting into a mask of anger. "I AM A GREAT VILLAIN, YOU'RE JUST TOO STUPID TO REALIZE IT PEEPERS!" He bellowed, the sound shaking with suppressed rage. "And just you wait. Once I deal with YOU and YOUR LITTLE FRIEND, I'll show the entire galaxy just how powerful I can be!"

The second-in-command rolled his eye, completely unimpressed by the empty threats. "Good luck with that, Sir." He retorted sarcastically. "Considering the fact that you can't even defeat a furry weirdo with a magic hat, I doubt you'll be conquering the galaxy anytime soon."

Hater's fists clenched at his dismissive tone, his anger reaching a boiling point. "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" He yelled, his voice rising to a shriek. "Wander is nothing but a little pest! I could beat him any time I want to, I just choose not to! I'm NOT going to waste my time on that little furball!"

Yeah right.

Peepers smirked, thoroughly enjoying getting under his leader's skin. "Oh please." He scoffed, a hint of amusement present in his orb. "We both know you've been chasing after Wander like a lovesick puppy for years now. If you're so powerful, then why haven't you beaten him yet?" Why indeed, it was a question the watchdog asked himself ever since they met that vagabond.

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" He yelled, stomping his foot once more. "I'm warning you, Peepers! If you don't stop with those snarky comment, I'll..." He trailed off, realizing he had no idea what he could do to make the watchdog stop.

At his outburst, the smaller villain raised an eyebrow. "You'll what, Sir?" He goaded, his tone laced with challenge. "Lock me in a cell, perhaps? Oh wait, you already did that." The amused smirk tugging at the corner of his eye was evident.

Hater's face reddened further, his frustration reaching a peak. "I'LL... I'LL... I'LL THROW YOU OUT OF THE AIRLOCK, THAT'S WHAT I'LL DO!"

The second-in-command chuckled at his empty threat, completely unfazed. "Really?" He taunted sarcastically. "And how exactly are you going to do that, hm? I'm locked up in a cell remember?" Of course, the promise could be swiftly done, but the eyeball knew just how dumb and unable to process everything his boss was. And he used that to his advantage.

"I'LL FIND A WAY, FOR GROP'S SAKE!" The skeleton yelled, stomping his foot, again. "Don't think you're safe in that cell just because you're surrounded by bars!"

The watchdog couldn't help but laugh once more, thoroughly entertained by Hater's impotent rage. "Oh, I'm not worried." He replied, his voice casual. "If you're dumb enough to accidentally launch all our ships into deep space, I have no doubt you're capable of purposely launching me into deep space as well."

"SHUT UP, PEEPERS!" The smaller villain was absolutely right and his leader knew it, which made him even angrier, his tone rising to a high-pitched squeak.

Peepers smirked at his childish outburst, clearly amused. "Hit a nerve, did I, Sir?" He taunted, the sarcasm rising once more. "Maybe if you learned how to control your temper, you'd actually accomplish something other than throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old."

Oh no, he didn't just say THAT.

"THAT'S IT!" The skeleton's eyes raged with fury. "WATCHDOGS! OPEN THE CELL!" He yelled out to the soldiers that were outside, taking care of the controls. His orbs were bloodshot and hands enveloped in green, crackling lighting in a split second.

The second-in-command's heart seized with dread as he heard the order, his eye widening in alarm. That wasn't good. He knew Hater's temper was volatile, and him being locked up hadn't exactly smoothed it out. Before he could respond, the entrance to his accommodation beeped and swung open, revealing the menacing leader standing there, his fists enveloped in the color emerald. Involuntarily, the watchdog took a step back, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a plan. He was unarmed and trapped with an angry, power-wielding skeleton. Not exactly a recipe for success. But he couldn't show any fear, not in front of the person he wanted to defeat. So he stood his ground, his scarlet eye narrowed defiantly as he faced his lord.

The taller villain advanced into the small space, the electricity dancing around his hands like a swarm of frenzied bees. His eyes were wild and unfocused, his face twisted into a mask of pure rage. "YOU'VE BEEN NOTHING BUT A CONSTANT ANNOYANCE, PEEPERS!" He growled dangerously. "I've had enough of your sarcasm, your undermining and your ENDLESS nitpicking!!!"

The heart of the watchdog beat faster, every nerve in his body yelling at him to run. His mind was blank, his whole form frozen. He stood his ground, his orb fixed on the man in front of him, refusing to back down despite the overwhelming danger. Hater was unhinged, unpredictable, and Peepers knew he was in a fight that he didn't want. His head raced with possibilities, hoping that he could get out of that without getting seriously injured — or worse.

And so his defiance grew, a surge of confidence flooding him. He was tired of being mocked, demeaned, and underestimated. He was done being a doormat, and he decided in the heat of the moment, that he wasn't going to take his leader's bullying anymore. He straightened up, his fists clenching at his sides.

No more fear.

No more submission.

He wasn't backing down. Not this time.

Peepers clenched his hands even tighter, his resolve solidifying. The time for passivity, for being the "good soldier" was over. He was done playing the submissive part, the obedient second-in-command. It was time to stand up for himself, to prove his worth, to show the skeleton (his friend that he wished would appreciate him), that he was more than just a punching bag, more than just a loyal follower.

The watchdogs outside watched, unable to intervene as Hater advanced, his body thrumming with barely contained rage. The Commander could see the anticipation in their eyes, expecting a one-sided fight. Well, they were in for a surprise. He held his ground, his scarlet orb narrowing even more as his leader (or rather former leader) got closer.

"You're nothing but a thorn in my side, Peepers!" Hater snarled, his voice a mix of anger, irritation and malice. "You've always been here, criticizing me, undermining my authority. You need to learn your place, AND I'M ABOUT TO TEACH IT TO YOU!"

With a deep breath, the smaller villain steadied himself. His heart was hammering in his chest and his fists shook in anticipation of the impending attack. But he didn't let that show. He held the skeleton's gaze, defiance flaring within. "Go ahead, then." He retorted, his tone filled with tension and daring. "Teach me my place. Show me what you've got, Hater."

He didn't even bother calling him 'Sir' anymore.

Hater's eyes narrowed, his face turning into a deep sneer of rage. "OH, YOU ASKED FOR IT, PEEPERS!" He growled, his voice rising in pitch as his temper flared higher. He launched himself at the watchdog, his fists crackling with lighting. "I CAN'T WAIT TO WIPE THAT ANNOYING SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE!"

Fight it.

Fight him.

Her words echoed through his mind.

Peepers reacted on pure instinct, years of training taking over. He sidestepped the attack, narrowly evading the electricity. He felt a jolt of adrenaline, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through him. He didn't back away, instead, darted to the side, putting himself in position to counter-attack. He knew fully well that he couldn't fight Hater on a physical level, but he was smart, quick, and he knew his weaknesses. So he had to stay nimble, dodging and striking when he found and opening. He saw the blind rage in his opponents eyes, the lack of strategy, and he knew that was his advantage point.

In the distance however, he heard explosions.

His heart lept in his throat as he heard the loud sound and screams of his fellow watchdogs. It took him a moment to process the realization that it was ___'s doing. His chest swelled, a strange mixture of pride and concern filling him. He knew she was handling the situation, giving him his chance... but that meant she was in danger too. He tried to shake the worry off, focusing on the present, on the battle with his boss.

Hater, though seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him, was too consumed by his anger, his fury, to notice. His attention remained locked on his subordinate, his focus unyielding. He continued his barrage of attacks, his movements clumsy. He didn't question the detonations; his tunnel of vision directed solely at his second-in-command. Blinded by his need to put him in his place, to make him pay for constant criticism, he poured rage into every attack. "YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN TO SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" He shouted, frustration and anger making his tone higher. "ALWAYS TELLING ME WHAT TO DO, ALWAYS DOUBTING MY DECISIONS!"

The watchdog dodged another swing, swiftly moving away from the skeleton's reach. "Maybe it's because your decisions are usually idiotic, and you need someone with common sense to point it out!" He retorted, his voice a mix of irritation and confidence. He kept moving, dancing around Hater's attacks, waiting for his moment.

With a clench of his fists, the 'fearless leader's' face reddened with anger. "YOU! NEVER! SHUT! UP!" He yelled, swinging his hands wildly. He was losing control of his temper, his punches becoming more wild, more erratic. He was focused on landing a hit, on making his subordinate pay for his insolence.

Peepers rolled his eye, the insult and attacks becoming more intense. "Oh please, I'm just stating the obvious!" He replied, his tone rising to match his opponents volume. "If you only stopped and thought for a second, maybe you could actually come up with a halfway decent plan!" He snarled, feeling the tension, the adrenaline mixing with his growing frustration.

Hater's face grew tomato red, his nostrils flaring. "I DON'T NEED YOUR ADVICE!" He roared, leaping at the watchdog, anent on landing a blow. "Every time you open your mouth, it's to tell me how stupid I am! I AM NOT STUPID, PEEPERS!!!" He charged forward, his strike coming in a torrent of rage and lighting.

The Commander side-stepped again, his agility keeping him nimble. "Then stop ACTING stupid!" He retorted, keeping his distance while still looking for an opening. He was dodging, weaving, and talking, his breath getting heavier. His mind kept whirring, assessing the skeleton's moves, desperately searching for that opportunity.

The taller villain paused, his eyes flaring in fury. "I'LL SHOW YOU WHO'S STUPID!" He yelled, his fists crackling with electricity, glowing brighter. His attacks were becoming more unhinged, faster, each one fueled by his anger and desperation to finally land a hit. He launched himself at the smaller opponent, the power cracking around him, aiming to unleash a powerful lighting blow.

But Peepers was quick, dodging the strike just in time, rolling to the side. "Really? Using lighting now?" He called out, his voice tinged with a hint of humor despite the tension. His mind was laser focused, every move calculated, as he tried to dodge and respond to the taunts. He knew he had to keep moving, to keep his mind sharp.

"DON'T MOCK ME, PEEPERS!" The skeleton howled, a vein starting to pop up in his head despite him not having veins (wow). "YOU'RE JUST A WORTHLESS NOBODY WHO HAS TO BELITTLE ME TO FEEL IMPORTANT!" He launched another lighting-charged attack, trying to catch his Commander off guard.

The watchdog evaded the blow, his eyebrow raised. "Worthless?" He almost laughed. "That's rich, coming from someone who can't even conquer a single planet on his own!" He replied, keeping his feet moving. He darted between Hater's wildly thrown blitz, his words a mix of annoyance and sarcasm.

Suddenly however, as he was focused more on his snarky retort rather than dodging, the skeleton's fist finally connected with him, the lighting crackling upon impact. It sent electric shockwaves through the commander's small form. The force throwing him at the wall, a gasp escaping him. The impact shook him, the waves of electricity causing his world to spin. The hit was hard, and his body felt the full force of it, every nerve screaming. The pain was like nothing he had felt before, stars dancing in his vision.

But as he heard the laugh of his former superior, something inside of him stirred.

After all, you can't run if you want to be number one.

Peepers straightened up, his determination like a fire inside him. He quickly shook off the pain, his adrenaline pumping. In a quick, bold move, he ripped off his shirt, revealing his unexpected, yet undeniably muscular, physique (sweet betsy). And as if possessed by his emotions, he roared and lunged at his Hater, throwing a powerful punch right across his face.

Ouch.

The punch connected with a resounding thud, sending the skeleton stumbling back from the force. The watchdog's fist hurt, a sharp sensation shooting up his hand, but it didn't matter. His adrenaline was high, his mind focused on the fight. He took advantage of the shock value, his upper body in full display. He knew damn well that it would tick his former superior even more.

Hater blinked in disbelief, his face turning a deeper shade of red, not only from anger but also from a hint of jealousy. He stumbled back a step, his eyes widening at the unexpected strength. His orbs flicked to the newly revealed muscular physique, and he seethed in silent envy. Or rather, loud. "YOU'VE... YOU'VE BEEN WORKING OUT?!?!" His voice consisted of shock and disbelief, his words filled with bitterness, his eyes flicking between his foe and his own scrawny frame.

The watchdog took the chance to respond with a quick jab, a smirk present on his face. "Yes, unlike you, I actually train!" He retorted, a combination of sarcasm and satisfaction. And with that, he threw another punch, aiming at Hater's middle.

Blocking the punch, the skeleton's eyes narrowed further. "I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW!" His jealousy grew with each passing moment as he spoke. "I'M THE GREATEST VILLAIN IN THE GALAXY, I DON'T NEED TO TRAIN! I'M STRONGER THAN EVERYONE ELSE ANYWAY!" He snapped, his declaration filled with a grudge and a hint of embarrassment. He threw a strike of his own, aiming at Peepers' jaw.

While dodging the blow, the former second-in-command let out a small chuckle. "Right, because being 'The Greatest Villain' means you sit around all day, doing nothing but ordering people around while eating ice cream!" He taunted, his tone purely sarcastic. "And don't forget the tantrums, those are a very 'great villain-y' thing to do!" Another punch sailed at the Hater's chest, making contact with a loud thud.

"I DO NOT THROW TANTRUMS! I AM THE ALMIGHTY LORD HATER, THE FEARSOME LORD OF DESTRUCTION AND EVIL!!!" He threw another hit, aiming at the watchdog's face (so his eye), his jealousy boiling over, his ego wounded further.

"ALMIGHTY, MY BACKSIDE!" Peepers retorted, easily dodging the punch. His movements were light and quick, his reflexes honed. "Don't even get me started on your 'destruction', you're about as destructive as a nerf gun!" Another strike connected, sending the skeleton staggering back for a moment.

Hater's face turned as red as the windows of the Skullship at the audacity of the comment, his ego bruised beyond belief. "SHUT UP! I AM A FEARED AND RESPECTED VILLAIN! I CAN DESTROY WHOLE PLANETS!" He yelled, throwing another blow in response, his aim slightly less coordinated.

The watchdog rolled his eye, not missing the slight loss of aim. "You couldn't destroy a sand castle with a death ray, let alone a planet!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" The skeleton's rage reached new levels as he roared. The lighting crackling in his hands grew more potent, and with a surge of his powers, he used a tendril of green electricity to lift his former subordinate up from the ground, anger fueling his every move. The emerald hue wrapped around the watchdog, pinning him mid-air.

Peepers gasped as he was lifted into the air. He tried to wiggle out of it, but it was no use. He found himself suspended several feet off the ground, trapped, his heart pounding in his chest. If the bigger villain wanted to kill him, then he could do it with a swift snap, and his opponent couldn't do anything about it. But he didn't plan on showing fear. He held his ground, his expression defiant and with a hint of anticipation.

Hater held him aloft, his eyes practically glowing with his fury. "I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT, PEEPERS! I DON'T NEED YOUR NAGGING! I'M THE GREATEST SOON-TO-BE RULER THIS GALAXY HAD EVER SEEN!" He yelled, lighting circling around his fists, a physical representation of his resentment. Peepers dangled, his mind racing for a way to get free while also keeping his former boss talking.

"Ruler? You're barely in control of your own emotions, let alone a galaxy!" He retorted, his words sharp. He needed to keep Hater distracted, ti find a way to escape the electrical hold.

With a narrow of his orbs, the skeleton's lip curled in anger. "I HAVE PERFECT CONTROL OVER MY EMOTIONS!" He roared. "I'M CALM AS A LAKE IN A THUNDERSTORM!!!" He emphasized the last part by making the lighting crack even more, the sound almost ominous.

The irony of his statement clearly lost to him.

But then, in the midst of the tension, a loud explosion roared through the room.

The force shattered the door, the shockwave sending Hater crashing to the ground, releasing his former right-hand in the process. The sound of glass and metal debris clattering filled the air, though for a moment, the only thing the two of them heard was ringing in their ears. However, with the last bit of his sense of hearing, he realized that there was also a sound of someone walking into the cramped prison. The watchdog watched in a daze as the chaos ensued, the detonation shaking the very foundation.

And just as his vision began to clear, he saw what happened.

There, right in front of him, Hater found himself under ___'s boot, his chest pinned to the floor by her foot. The echo of eruptions and watchdogs' screams only added to the surreal atmosphere, creating a tense and unpredictable ambiance.

Peepers watched in both disbelief and awe as the woman stood over the beaten skeleton like a true conqueror. The sight of him, once so intimidating, pinned beneath a mere human was almost unbelievable. The watchdog couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement, perhaps a hint of satisfaction at the tables turning.

"Good job, Commander." Her cold gaze faltered for a moment as she turned to the smaller villain. The clothes she wore, usually clean and ironed, were then dirty and torn, showing just how determined she was to help. For certain, she planned everything. And even if it happened quickly and abruptly, Peepers couldn't keep himself from admiring her resolve. She was a force to be reckoned with, a person that he never thought he would have the pleasure of meeting. And deep inside, he was pleased that he did.

As she smiled at him in that sly way of hers, her eyes suddenly moved lower. For a second, a flicker of surprise appeared on her face as she raised an eyebrow. "Nice pecks." With that, she gave him a wink, wiping the blood that dripped from a cut on her cheek.

WHAT-

Peepers felt a weird mixture of embarrassment and amusement when the compliment reached his ears. His face heated up, but he quickly shook it off, focusing on the situation at hand. Seriously? Now?! He mentally chided her, unable to comprehend her priorities.

She was a strange woman indeed.

Hater, not even daring to comment, looked more like a tantrum-throwing child than a fearsome villain, struggling ineffectually against her hold. Because of that his face twisted in frustration, his anger momentarily replaced by surprise. "WHAT THE HECK, PEEPERS?!" He yelled, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief. "GET HER OFF ME, FOR GROP'S SAKE!!!"

With a whirl of emotions, the watchdog tried to keep his cool. He didn't intend on helping his former leader that time. Hater's demands fell on deaf ears. And so he straightened up, trying his best to assume a sense of authority. He was no longer an obedient follower. With a quick jump, he joined the woman near the skeleton, ready to stand by her side. Upon seeing it, the childish villain looked at him, his eyes begging for help, a silent plea, but the small alien just watched. "Sorry Hater." He said, his voice surprisingly steady considering the situation. "But I guess it's time for a change in management."

Hater looked at him, his orbs wide, his expression filled with genuine surprise, which quickly turned to anger, and then slowly, the realization began to sink in. His second-in-command wasn't doing anything, he was no longer at his side, supporting him and his actions. Instead he was siding with the human he caught him with not that long ago. Knowing it, he let out a groan, his face twisted in frustration and indignation. "You wouldn't-" He hissed, his voice strained. "You wouldn't turn against your leader! YOU WOULDN'T TURN AGAINST ME!"

And with that he reached his hand to grab the woman's leg, a desperate attempt at regaining control. But when she noticed it, she swiftly pulled out a device out of her pockets. The same object she stole from Peepers at the Yonder Festival. With a quick push of a button, Hater was enveloped in blue light. Unable to move.

He froze. Literally froze.

The sapphire colored light held him in its grasp, confining him, rendering him immobile. There was no struggling, no movement, nothing. The villain, still pinned under the human's boot, was like a statue. He was frozen in place and shock, forced into stillness, his rage halted (at least physically). "Oh, poor Hater." She said in mock sympathy.

"IT'S LORD HATER TO YOU! THE GREATEST VILLAIN IN ALL THE GALAXY, THE FUTURE RULER, YOU ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!!!" He yelled, his voice a mix of indignant and desperation. No matter the fact it didn't work, he still tried struggling, but his body remained unmoving.

"You may be Lord Hater..." The woman trailed off, her tone mocking. She was savoring the moment, a smug smile on her face. "But what good is it if you're frozen, unable to rule 'your galaxy'?" She leaned closer, her foot pinning him harshly to the ground.

"It's quite p̴̘̽ā̸̞t̶̛̼h̴̦͝e̴̮̓t̶͕̀i̵̞̊c̷̫̃, don't you think?" Her eyes were hollow as she spoke.

Hater seemed to shrink under her glare, his anger giving way to helplessness and frustration. "PEEPERS!" He cried out, desperately looking at his former Commander. "You can't just let her do this! You can't just... just...!"

And as the watchdog watched the whole ordeal, he felt guilt and satisfaction at once, a strange blend that he wasn't used to. He approached the skeleton's frozen form, his face carefully masked, though his heart was beating in anticipation. Hater was completely vulnerable, pleading for help, and Peepers knew it was his chance to seize control, but... He could still feel the memories of their friendship, the nicer words - that weren't said very often -, and he doubted his own resolve. It was now or never, and he had to decide what was more important.

His past loyalty to Hater, or his new future with ___.

"C-Peeps." The skeleton tried again, his voice cracking with despair. "You... you can't-"

"Oh but he absolutely can, Hater." The human interrupted, her orbs mercilessly fixed on the suspended villain. "Get used to it."

The skeleton tried to ignore her, his own eyes pleading, desperation clear, the fear of betrayal. "Peepers... you wouldn't do this..." He was almost begging, trapped in his frozen form. He couldn't argue or defend himself, completely at the mercy of the two. He had hope, hope so pure, that his former commander wouldn't turn his back on him.

And for a moment, Peepers' harsh expression faltered, the quilt gnawing at him. He forced himself to suppress the emotion, to remain resolute, but his heart felt heavy. The pleas of his one-time friend hit him like a punch in the stomach, the words echoing in his mind. The helplessness, right under a human's foot, it was a scene he never imagined. The vulnerability, the pleading, it tugged at his heart strings, the years of loyalty and training urging him to act, to protect his leader. To remain loyal.

"I-" He began, his voice a whisper, a hint of internal struggle.

The small watchdog felt a mix of emotions, his body tensing as he battled with his past allegiances and the temptation of power. The whole situation seemed unreal, he was unable to think clearly, to decide. But then suddenly, as if sensing his turmoil, the female reached out to him and grabbed his hand, their contact electric. Her palm was warm against his gloved one, the soft touch a stark contrast to the tension and uncertainty he was feeling.

"It's time to choose, Commander." Her voice was like a command, a gentle nudge towards the decision she wanted him to make. As if to emphasize her point, she handed him the device in her hands, a sign that he was the ruler, the one who had to make the calls.

Peepers was shocked by the electricity that seemed to course through as she grasped his hand. The unexpected gesture was like a wake-up call, a reminder of what was at stake. He looked at their palms, felt the device in his, the power within it. She was trusting him, she wanted him to lead. And he had to make a choice, right here, right now.

And so his eye met Hater's frozen form once more, the plea echoing in his mind. Guilt, loyalty, and the temptation of power warred within him, the emotions swirling like a storm inside him. The gaze of his former leader begged for loyalty, for the watchdog to side with him, to oppose the human female. But the object in his hands, her warm touch, all pointed towards a future where he was the one in control.

It was too much.

His mind was a whir of emotion, the weight of his decision, the skeleton's pleads, the device, and the woman's trust - it all clamored for attention, for his decision. He could hear Hater's words, the demands, the fear, but he could also feel the woman's hand holding his, guiding him, reminding him of what she wanted.

And in that moment, the storm of uncertainty cleared, his choice clear. His hand tightened around the magical mechanism, it's presence a confirmation of his selection.

He decided to side with ___.

His heart pounded in his chest with determination and anticipation. He straightened up, his choice made, his future chosen. Hater's trapped form and his pleading gaze served as a reminder of what was at stake, what everything meant. And knowing it, the watchdog turned to his future right-hand, his jaw set, his expression resolved.

She met his eye, a flash of satisfaction and approval passing through her face. Her smile was the confirmation he needed, the sign that he made the right call. And with that in mind, she stepped away, leaving the skeleton still unable to move. Although he couldn't do anything, his emotions were on display, and his screams rang out. "DON'T DO THIS PEEPERS! YOU'RE AS STUPID AS YOU LOOK!!!"

But Peepers ignored his words, his expression unyielding, his grip on the device tight. He took a deep breath, his back straightened, his resolve like steel. "Sometimes, being 'stupid' for a greater purpose is necessary." He said firmly, his voice steady. "I've made my choice, Hater."

With a frustrated roar, the skeleton struggled against the blue magic. "GREATER PURPOSE?! WHAT GREATER PURPOSE?! YOU'RE BETRAYING YOUR LEADER, PEEPERS! YOU'RE A WORTHLESS, USELESS FOLLOWING WITHOUT ME! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER MADE YOU MY COMMANDER!"

The watchdog's eye twitched, the outburst digging deep. He knew the truth in them, the years of loyalty, the bond they had, but that was different. It was a new beginning. "Worthless?" He countered. "I have been the backbone of your every failed plan. It's time I have a shot of at one of my own." His resolve was unwavering. "Consider it... a new start."

"A start fitting for the New Ruler of the Yonder Galaxy."

At that, Hater's eyes blazed. "YOU THINK YOU CAN RULE? YOU?! A PATHETIC WATCHDOG?! YOU DON'T HAVE THE BRAINCELL FOR RULING, YOU'LL COLLAPSE IN A WEEK!"

Right as he finished yelling, the human moved closer to the smaller villain, her hand casually resting on his exposed shoulder. Her eyes flickered to his scarlet orb, a hint of amusement glimmering inside. She decided to speak, her tone dripping with an authoritative edge. "Oh, he won't collapse." With that her fingers trailed along his collarbone. "As long as I keep him in line."

Though a hint of defiance showed in Peepers' eye as it narrowed. "Keep in line?" He scoffed, a small smirk tugging at his whole optic. "I won't need to be kept in line." He countered, his words sharper than usual, his tone slightly shifting. "Because I'll be the one giving the orders." His gaze met ___'s, and in that moment, an understanding passed between them.

"I'll be the one in control." He continued, his tone gaining malice. "And soon." He leaned forward, his amused glare set on his former leader. "The Galaxy will bow to the new, and improved Commander Peepers." 

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 4

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Dividers by @Strangergraphics

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

The third week of the trip had started to blend into the rest, but the jet skiing adventure gave me a brief escape. The sun was high, the ocean stretched out like a never-ending canvas, and everyone else was way ahead, weaving through the waves like they were born on the water. I hung back, as usual, taking my time and keeping my speed steady.

But just as I started to feel a little more confident, the engine sputtered. My heart dropped as my jet ski slowed to a crawl, then died altogether, leaving me stranded in the middle of the ocean.

"Seriously?" I muttered, pressing a few buttons, trying to restart the engine. Nothing. Great.

I glanced around, hoping someone from the group would notice, but they were all too far ahead. I felt a wave of frustration rising through me. That’s when I spotted a familiar figure cutting through the water in my direction. Lloyd.

He pulled up next to me, his ever-present smirk in place. “Run out of juice already?” he teased, clearly amused by my predicament.

I rolled my eyes with a smile “Obviously.”

Lloyd chuckled and glanced around, his eyes scanning the empty stretch of water. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a gentleman,” he said, patting the back of his jet ski. “Hop on. I’ll give you a ride.”

 “Alright, thanks,” I quipped

Since that first night we met, I’d been texting Lloyd more than I thought I would. At first, I was convinced he was just like the rest of them, another one of those rich kids I claimed to be wary of, another piece of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit with my life. But something about Lloyd was different. Maybe it was the way he joked with that dark humor of his, or the fact that he never seemed to take anything too seriously. Whatever it was, I found myself enjoying our late-night conversations more than I expected to.

When I wasn’t too drunk from another round of drinks with the group, I’d call him. It wasn’t anything deep, just simple talks about random things, how he hated how out of place he felt here, how I felt like I was stuck in a life that didn’t quite belong to me. In a weird way, we got each other, even though we came from completely different worlds. There was something about him that made me feel grounded, like I wasn’t completely adrift.

The more we talked, the more I started to look forward to his texts. It was like a small escape from the chaos around me.

As soon as I settled in, his next question caught me off guard. “So… where’s Steve?” His voice was casual, but the question made me stiffen.

Before I could respond, Steve’s jet ski came roaring up to us, cutting through the water with a spray of mist. The second he spotted me on the back of Lloyd’s jet ski, his entire demeanor shifted. The easygoing smile he usually wore vanished, replaced by something tighter. Possessive.

"Lloyd! What are the chances?" Steve called out, his tone too friendly, his voice louder than necessary as he pulled up beside us. His eyes flicked between me and Lloyd, his jaw clenching as if he was trying to grit his teeth through a smile.

"Yeah, what are the chances?" Lloyd echoed, though the smirk on his face remained firmly in place.

Steve’s gaze lingered on where I was holding onto Lloyd's waist, his hand twitching on the handlebar of his jet ski. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and for a second, it felt like I was intruding on some unspoken battle between the two of them.

"Kiwi," Steve said, his tone softening as he turned to me. "Your jet ski ran out of fuel?"

I nodded, feeling a little awkward now that I was the center of attention. “Yeah, it just... died. Lloyd was helping me out.”

Steve’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he responded. “Appreciate that, Lloyd.” He paused, his gaze hardening as it flicked back to Lloyd. “But I’ve got it from here.”

Without waiting for a reply, Steve reached over, his hand brushing my arm as if to help me off Lloyd’s jet ski. I stopped him.

"Hey, Steve, don’t worry about me," I said, forcing a smile, my heart beating a little faster than I’d like. "I think I’m gonna hang out with Lloyd a little bit."

Steve’s brow arched, and I saw his jaw clench ever so slightly. "You sure?"

I nodded, trying to play it off casually. "Yup. I’ll meet you guys back at the villa."

Steve’s eyes lingered on me for a beat too long, but before he could say anything, Lloyd piped up from behind me. "Cowabunga!" he shouted, revving the jet ski’s engine and speeding off, away from Steve.

The sudden burst of speed made me grip Lloyd’s waist tighter, laughing as we raced across the water. The wind whipped through my hair, the salty spray of the ocean splashing against my face. It was exhilarating. Everything with Lloyd felt easy, carefree, like I could just let go of all the tension and overthinking that usually bogged me down.

We zigzagged through the waves, occasionally catching small jumps that made me laugh even louder. Lloyd would glance back at me with that goofy, boyish grin of his, and I couldn’t help but smile every time.

At one point, he slowed the jet ski down, letting us coast along a more peaceful section of the coastline. The sun was starting to set, casting a golden glow over the water, turning everything soft and warm. We pulled up near a secluded beach, far enough from the main tourist areas that it felt like we were in our own little world.

Lloyd turned around, still grinning. "Not bad for a day out, huh?"

I chuckled, adjusting my grip on his waist. "Yeah, not bad at all. Way better than being stuck at the villa."

We sat there, just drifting along, talking about nothing and everything.

"You know, Kiwi," he said after a while, leaning back slightly so I could hear him over the gentle sound of the water, "I’m glad we’re doing this. I’ve been stuck in my own head since I got here, and you’re kinda making this whole thing... fun."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the sun. "Same here, Lloyd."

The rest of our little jet ski date felt like a blur of laughter, jokes, and moments where we just sat in comfortable silence, watching the ocean stretch out in front of us. For once, I wasn’t worried about Steve or what he thought. I wasn’t thinking about any of the baggage that usually weighed me down.

It was just me and Lloyd, two people who found a little bit of peace in each other’s company.

When I finally made it back to the villa, the air inside felt thick with tension the second I stepped through the door. Steve was lounging on the couch, but there was nothing relaxed about his posture,his jaw was tight, arms crossed, and his eyes locked on me the moment I entered. Natasha was pacing near the kitchen island, her lips pressed together in a thin line. The usual carefree atmosphere of the villa had been replaced by something... colder.

"Where the hell have you been?" Natasha snapped before I could even say anything, her voice a little too sharp.

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility. "I was with Lloyd," I replied, trying to keep my tone even, though I could feel Steve’s gaze drilling into the side of my head. "We went jet skiing. I told Steve."

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and she threw a quick glance in Steve’s direction before focusing back on me. "Lloyd? You barely know him, Kiwi! He’s a stranger. We don’t know anything about him, and you’re just running off with him like it’s nothing?"

I felt my pulse quicken, a defensive heat rising up my chest. "He’s not just some random guy. We’ve been talking since we met at the villa. He’s... he’s fine."

"Fine?" Natasha stepped closer, shaking her head. "Kiwi, you don’t know what people are capable of. You can’t just trust someone because they seem nice or make you laugh a few times." Her voice softened a little, but the frustration was still there. "You have no idea what his intentions are."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my cool. "I’m not some naïve little girl, Natasha. I can take care of myself. I know when someone’s bad news, and Lloyd isn’t it." My voice wavered slightly as I spoke, but I held her gaze, unwilling to back down.

Natasha hesitated, glancing again at Steve. He hadn’t said a word, but his silence spoke volumes. He was pissed, that much was clear. The quiet anger radiating off him made me feel uneasy, like I had just walked into a trap I wasn’t even aware of. Natasha, noticing Steve’s lack of response, seemed unsure of how to proceed.

Steve finally stood up, and the movement sent a ripple of tension through the room. His eyes flicked to Natasha, silently dismissing her. She stepped back, arms folded, still watching me with that mix of concern and frustration.

Steve walked toward me, slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving mine. When he finally stopped in front of me, his expression was hard to read. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was going to explode or just brush the whole thing off.

"You need to be careful, Kiwi," he said, his voice low, controlled. "I don’t want you getting hurt. People aren’t always what they seem."

It felt like a warning, like something unsaid was lingering beneath his words. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "I know," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

Steve studied me for a moment longer, his eyes scanning my face like he was looking for something, an answer, maybe, or some kind of reassurance. Then, without another word, he turned disappearing into his room.

The door clicked shut, and the silence in the villa felt suffocating. Natasha let out a long breath, rubbing her temples. "Look, just... be smart, okay?" she muttered, her earlier fire gone, replaced with a kind of resignation.

I didn’t say anything. I just nodded and headed to my own room, my mind swirling with thoughts I couldn’t quite sort out. Steve’s warning echoed in my head, but more than that, the way he looked at me, like I was fragile, like I needed protection, made my skin crawl.

It wasn’t until I was alone in my room, sitting on the edge of my bed, that I realized something felt off. The way Steve and Natasha had reacted to Lloyd.

As I lay down, pulling the covers over myself, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the carefree freedom I’d felt with Lloyd earlier that day was slipping through my fingers.

By the end of the third week, Tony got wind of a party happening at one of the nearby villas, and just like that, we were off.

The villa was buzzing with energy that night, music thumped through the walls, laughter spilled out from every corner, and the air was thick with the scent of tropical drinks and perfume. It was another party, another scene I never quite felt I belonged in, but I went along with it, trying to blend in with the group.

Steve, of course, had stuck to my side all night, possessively hovering like a shadow, making sure I didn’t stray too far. It was exhausting. I excused myself to grab another drink, slipping out from under his watchful eye and wandering into the crowd.

That’s when I saw him, Lloyd, standing near the back patio, his easy smile lighting up his face as he spoke to a group of strangers. He spotted me, and that smile only widened, sending a warmth through me that I hadn’t realized I needed.

"Well, if it isn’t my favorite jet ski partner," he teased as I approached, his voice dripping with the playful sarcasm I’d grown to enjoy.

I chuckled, the tension I’d been carrying with me all night melting away in his presence. “You better watch it,” I replied. “I might start to think you actually like me.”

Lloyd’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement, his crooked grin making my stomach flutter. “Maybe I do,” he said, his tone low but light. His teasing was always edged with something deeper, something that made my heart race in ways I hadn’t felt in a long time.

We wandered off to the quieter section of the party, near the beach where the sound of the waves mixed with the distant hum of the party.

“So, how’d you end up with Steve and the wealth squad?” Lloyd asked, half-smiling, his tone playful but curious. “I’ve been wondering that since we met,”

“University,” I answered, not really thinking about it. When he paused, waiting for more, I sighed and gave in to the full story. “I shared a class with Sharon. We sat next to each other, and she needed help with her assignments. So, I helped. Help eventually turned into me actually doing her assignments, and eventually Jane and Pepper’s.”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt.

“Natasha never needed help,” I added, almost like it mattered somehow. “Anyway, Sharon thought she could trade friendship for completed homework. And me, being as foolish as I was, allowed it.

Lloyd tilted his head, studying me for a moment. I could feel his gaze, but I kept talking, needing to get it all out.

“During my last year at University, I was overwhelmed, exams, projects, papers. You name it. And for some reason, Sharon couldn’t understand that I needed to prioritize myself. She felt betrayed, like I was supposed to keep sacrificing my sanity for her. So, she dropped me, just like that.”

Lloyd frowned, his brow furrowing as if trying to piece it all together. “That sucks, but… why are you here with them now?”

I shrugged, feeling the familiar weight of the answer pressing on me. “Sharon called me out of the blue, invited me on this trip. I declined at first, but things… weren’t going so great at home. I lost my job, had to move back in with my parents, and they were driving me insane. So, I caved. Figured one month in the Maldives was better than staying at home.”

Lloyd nodded slowly, leaning back against the railing, “Seems like you’ve been through it.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, glancing back at the crowd inside. “I guess you could say that.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting when I told Lloyd everything. Maybe I just needed someone to hear it without judgment. Without the baggage of knowing all the players involved. And somehow, Lloyd, with his laid-back charm and sharp sense of humor, made it easier to say out loud.

The silence between us lingered for a moment, comfortable yet loaded, before he spoke again. “Well, for what it’s worth, you don’t seem like the kind of person who needs to be hanging out with people like them.”

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah, well, sometimes you just… end up where you are, I guess.”

At one point, he leaned in, brushing a lock of hair away from my face, his fingers grazing my skin. The touch sent a shiver down my spine, and for the first time in a while, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

Before we could go further, I felt it, the shift in the air, like a dark cloud had rolled in. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

Steve.

His presence was suffocating, a heavy weight that pressed down on me the moment he appeared. “Lloyd, what a coincidence,” Steve greeted him with that smile that didn’t reach his eyes. There was something colder, more calculated in his tone. He stepped closer, his gaze locked on me. “Mind if I borrow Kiwi for a second?”

"Does she want to be borrowed?" Lloyd’s voice was calm, yet irritated but the tension between them was almost palpable. I could feel his eyes on me, silently asking for confirmation.

The truth? I didn’t. I didn’t want to go anywhere with Steve. But deep down, I knew that Steve had no problem escalating a situation if it didn’t go his way. And I didn’t want to drag Lloyd into that mess. So, I laid my hand on Lloyd’s arm, a silent apology in my eyes as I told him, “I’ll be back.” I threw Steve a dirty look, hoping he'd understand this wasn't going to go the way he wanted.

Before I could move, Steve’s hand was already around my wrist, his grip firm, almost possessive. He pulled me aside, his expression unreadable, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed the calm exterior he was trying to maintain.

I yanked my arm back, glaring at him. Steve didn’t flinch, his grip tightening just enough to remind me who held the power.

“What are you doing with him?” Steve’s voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge that made my skin prickle. His grip on my wrist didn’t loosen.

I yanked my hand back, glaring at him. “I’m just talking to him, Steve. What’s your problem?”

“He’s not good for you, Kiwi-” His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly. As if he was holding back.

I stared at him, anger rising in my chest. “You don’t get to decide who’s good for me, Steve. This isn’t your call.”

Steve’s smile returned, but it was colder now, the kind that sent chills down my spine. “Okay,” he said lightly, stepping back. His voice was casual, too casual. “I won’t get in your way.” He gave me a short nod before turning and walking back toward the villa.

I watched him go, relief washing over me, thinking that the confrontation was over. But deep down, something felt off. Steve had let it go too easily.

I returned to Lloyd, “Seems, like he needs a good pegging.” He said his humor cutting through the tension like a breath of fresh air, and I managed to shake off the strange encounter with Steve. For the rest of the night, I focused on Lloyd, laughing and joking as we wandered along the beach. It felt good…natural. For once, I didn’t feel like I was being suffocated by Steve’s presence.

But a few days later, everything changed.

Lloyd stopped texting. No calls, no messages. I tried reaching out, but my calls went straight to voicemail. It was like he’d vanished.

Worried, I went back to his villa, hoping to get some explanation. But when I got there, it was empty. A neighbor mentioned he’d left abruptly, something about family issues overseas, but it didn’t sit right with me. I wanted to believe it was just bad timing, but the nagging feeling in my gut told me otherwise.

Steve didn’t miss a beat. He swooped back into my life, acting as though nothing had happened, as though Lloyd’s sudden disappearance was just a coincidence. He was all concerned and caring, making sure I was "okay." His concern seemed genuine, but deep down, I knew the truth.

That night, I drowned my guilt in bottles, one after another, trying to numb the sick feeling churning in my stomach. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lloyd. What happened to him? Questions swirled in my mind, but the alcohol silenced them for a while, turning everything into a hazy blur.

Eventually, the weight of the night pulled me under, and I passed out, letting the booze take over completely.

When I woke up, my head was pounding, the light creeping through the curtains like needles stabbing at my skull. I groaned, rolling over in bed, but the movement made me realize something was off. My body was stiff, every muscle sore like I’d been through a marathon I didn’t remember running, and my skin felt so sticky.

I tried to stretch, but even that felt like a challenge, my limbs heavy and resistant. My mind was still foggy, disoriented from the drinks and... something else.

Sitting up slowly, I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to will the pounding headache away. The room was spinning slightly, the events of last night scattered like broken puzzle pieces in my brain.

I was in my own bed, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

I flopped back down on my bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin, trying to shake off the throbbing headache pounding through my skull. Staying in seemed like the best option today. I just hoped Steve wouldn’t give me a hard time about it, especially with how overbearing he’d been lately.

A knock came at the door, and before I could respond, Steve walked in holding a bowl of what looked like soup. I sat up slightly, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Peace offering,” he said with a small smile, placing the bowl on the nightstand for a moment. “I wanted to apologize... for, you know, how I’ve been acting on this trip.”

I blinked at him, unsure where this was going. My headache was making it hard to focus, but his tone seemed genuine.

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just... I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, Kiwi. You’re a good friend, and I guess I’ve gotten a little... overprotective. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

He was full of so much shit. I wasn’t sure what to say, and in the haze of my headache, I couldn’t really be mad at him. I just needed to make it through this trip, since he refused to let me go back home, so I just played nice.

I gave him a tired smile, the best I could manage with my pounding head. “Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that.”

“Let me feed you,” he said suddenly, picking up the bowl of soup again.

“What?” I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to, just put it on the nightstand. I’ll drink it when I’m ready.”

Steve shook his head, already pulling up a desk chair beside me. “Nah, it’s best when it’s still warm. You need to get it in you now.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but honestly, I didn’t have the energy to argue. My head felt like it was splitting in two. I just sighed and let him lift the spoon to my lips. The soup was surprisingly good, and with each sip, I felt the warmth spread through my chest, easing the discomfort.

After a few spoonful’s, I glanced up at him. “Why don’t you take care of your other friends like this when they’re hungover?”

He chuckled. “Because hangovers aren’t a common thing for you, Kiwi. Figured you’re not used to this.”

I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. I rarely drank, and when I did, it was never enough to leave me like this. Reluctantly, I let him keep feeding me until the bowl was empty. My exhaustion was creeping in fast, making it hard to keep my eyes open.

“Get some rest,” Steve said softly, tucking the blankets around me and leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Things are about to get busy soon.”

I drowsily nodded, already half-asleep, as I felt the weight of the day pull me under. I drifted off, wondering what he meant by that, but too tired to care for now.

Our final week in the Maldives felt like a blur. I was constantly drifting in and out of consciousness, my body heavy, my words thick in my throat whenever I tried to speak. Everything felt... off. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but Bruce chalked it up to lethargy.

“You’re just not used to prolonged rest, Kiwi,” he explained one morning when I asked why I felt so sluggish. “This vacation has you in a constant state of rest. Once you get home and start working again, everything will balance out.”

I nodded weakly, hoping he was right. But something deep down told me this wasn’t just about too much rest. I felt trapped in my own body, like I was dragging myself through every day, unable to fully engage with anything or anyone.

Steve, ever the attentive one, waited on me hand and foot, giving me these green energy smoothies every morning. "It’ll help pick you up," he’d say with that confident smile of his. But after days of drinking them, I didn’t feel any better. In fact, I felt worse. I told him as much one day, mentioning what Bruce had said about lethargy and how this constant dragging feeling couldn’t be good for me.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve replied smoothly, brushing off my concerns as he squeezed my hand. He kept that hand-holding thing going all week, dragging me around like I was some ragdoll. And I let him. I didn’t have the energy to resist. The thought of doing anything on my own felt impossible. I was just waiting for the vacation to be over, to escape the fog that had settled over me.

At night, I slept like a rock. But when morning came, my body still felt heavy, weighed down like someone had filled me with stones. The soreness lingered, making even the simplest movement feel like a chore.

Before I knew it, the vacation was over, and I was sitting next to Steve on his private jet, heading back home. I stared out of the window, my eyes glazed over, the hum of the plane’s engine doing nothing to soothe the anxiety bubbling inside me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it home. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to stand once we landed, let alone call an Uber or deal with my parents.

The plane landed, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My body felt so heavy, and everything around me seemed to swim in and out of focus. I felt myself being shifted, my body moving without me fully realizing it. Someone was lifting me, but it was all so hazy, like I was watching it from somewhere far away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” a voice whispered near my ear. Steve’s voice.

I wanted to say something, to ask what was happening, but my mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Everything was slipping away from me, and I could only hope that whatever was happening... I’d wake up from it soon.

When the fog finally lifted, I found myself in a bed that wasn’t mine, in a room I didn’t recognize. The fancy digital clock on the nightstand glowed 10:53 a.m., and before I could fully comprehend what was happening, a pair of arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm body. My heart raced as I turned to see who it was, and there was Steve, eyes closed, snoring softly, his face inches from mine.

I blinked, trying to shake off the remaining haze. “Steve?” I called out, nudging him slightly. “Steve, wake up.”

He stirred, stretching with a loud yawn before cracking open one eye. "Morning," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“Where... where am I? What’s going on?” I asked, my voice still groggy but clearer than it had been in days.

Steve stretched again, his arm lazily draping across me. “You knocked out on the plane,” he explained. “So, I brought you to my house. I didn’t know where you lived.”

I sat up a little, still disoriented. “Why didn’t you just look at my ID?”

There was a pause, then a look of realization flashed across his face. “You know, I didn’t think of that.

I blinked at him, feeling a strange mixture of exhaustion and clarity wash over me. Something didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I glanced down, suddenly noticing that I was wearing one of the nighties I’d packed for the vacation, with no underwear, sticky skin and sore muscle. My eyes darted to Steve, and that’s when I realized he was only in his boxers.

“Steve...” I started slowly, “who changed my clothes?”

He gave me an incredulous look, raising an eyebrow as if the question was ridiculous. “You did,” he said matter-of-factly.

I froze. I didn’t remember that. Not even a little. But what reason did I have to doubt him? My mind still felt like it was piecing itself back together after the past week.

I swallowed hard, nodding slightly, though the knot in my stomach grew tighter. “Okay... then why are you in your boxers?”

Steve smirked, giving a nonchalant shrug. “I usually sleep naked when I’m in my own bed. But I put on the boxers, you know, as a courtesy.”

I nodded again, more out of reflex than understanding. “Right...” I muttered, pushing the covers off me and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Steve pointed lazily to a door in the corner of the room, where the window met the wall. I wasted no time getting up and heading toward it, my head buzzing with too many thoughts to process.

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind me, I leaned against the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I felt a panic rising in my chest. I didn’t remember changing. I didn’t remember much of anything after that last week. And now I was in Steve’s house, in Steve’s bed... with Steve.

I pressed my palms against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess, and my eyes were still heavy with exhaustion.

I blinked a few times, trying to process everything. How did I end up here? And in my nighty, no less? It didn’t add up. The last clear memory I had was from the plane. Everything after that was a foggy blur.

"Okay, Kiwi, calm down," I whispered to myself. "You can figure this out."

I shook my head, trying to focus. I needed to get out of here. I needed to clear my head and figure out what was really going on. But as I stared at my reflection, my gut twisted with uncertainty.

I couldn’t just ignore the way Steve had been acting over at the Maldives, how close he had gotten, how possessive he seemed. And now this? Him brushing off that he didn’t know where I lived? When I was sure it would take nothing to figure out.

I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it would wake me up from this strange feeling  that seemed to linger. I had to get a grip on the situation.

When I walked back out, Steve was still lying in his bed, stretched out, looking way too comfortable. "You, okay?" he asked, his voice lazy, like none of this was out of the ordinary.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, just needed a minute."

"Good," he replied, sitting up and stretching. "We’ve got breakfast downstairs if you’re hungry."

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything more.

Steve moved from the bed, stretching his arms with a casualness that made my skin crawl. He grabbed a robe from a nearby chair and slid it on before turning to me, his eyes lingering on me just a second too long. It wasn’t subtle, he looked me up and down before pulling out another robe and handing it to me.

“Here, put this on,” he said, his tone soft but something about it made me feel like I didn’t really have a choice.

I slipped it on, trying not to think too much about his gaze. The fabric was smooth, probably the most expensive thing I’d ever worn. But it didn’t feel comforting; it felt like a reminder of just how far out of my element I was.

Before I could say anything, Steve was by my side, grabbing my hand in a way that was far too intimate. His grip was firm, not forceful, but it left me no room to pull away. He led me out of the room, his massive mansion unfolding before me as we moved through the wide corridors.

The grand staircase was as intimidating as it was beautiful, spiraling down into what felt like the heart of the house. My mind was still spinning from everything, how I’d ended up here, the fog that had clouded my memory for what felt like weeks, and now, Steve’s hand holding mine felt like it was tethering me to this strange reality.

We descended into the dining room, which was, of course, massive. The table was already set, food arranged like we were about to attend a banquet. I could smell eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, and some other dishes I didn’t even recognize. It all looked like something straight out of a magazine.

Steve pulled out a chair for me, still holding that unreadable expression on his face. I sat down slowly, trying to process everything. He slid into the chair right next to me, far closer than necessary, and for a second, I felt the weight of his presence more than the meal in front of me.

“Go ahead,” Steve said, gesturing to the food. “You need to eat after the week you’ve had.”

I swallowed hard, my appetite completely gone despite the feast in front of me. But I picked up a fork anyway, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. I had no idea how I was going to make it through this breakfast, or what Steve expected from me next.

Steve picked up a small tart and brought it toward me. I reached out to grab it, but just as my fingers brushed it, he pulled it away, holding it in front of my mouth instead, his eyes expectant. The gesture was so casual, like this was normal, so I awkwardly leaned forward and allowed him to feed me. The tart was sweet, but I barely tasted it, my discomfort overpowering everything else.

He set the other piece down and resumed eating his own meal as if nothing strange had just happened. I, on the other hand, felt my shoulders tense up as I silently chewed, trying to make sense of what this morning was becoming.

After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke again, this time in a tone that made me wary. "So, I have news."

I glanced at him, unsure what to expect. "Okay..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I spoke to my father," Steve began, "and unfortunately, he's not interested in hiring for any entry-level positions in his finance department right now."

The news hit me like a brick. My stomach dropped, I had forgotten that I asked him to do that, and though I knew it was good that I didn’t have to stick around Steve, I really could have used that job. My shoulders slumped as that familiar wave of defeat washed over me.

But before I could sink any deeper into that feeling, Steve’s hand was on my cheek, gently caressing my skin. “Hey, don’t look so down. I’m not done yet,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. “I managed to get you an opportunity elsewhere. Proper salary, full benefits.”

I perked up, my heart lifting at the words. “Really?” I asked, excitement creeping in. I hadn’t expected a follow-up.

Steve smiled, the kind of smile that felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time. “Yeah, really. You know my father’s been mentoring me to take over his company, right? Well, next quarter, I’ll have a proper position. And with that position, I’m going to need a few resources.” He paused, his smile widening. “Congratulations, you’re going to be my new PA.”

I blinked, the words not quite sinking in at first. “Personal assistant?” I repeated, taken aback. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I thought of a job with a ‘proper salary.’ But then again, I was in no position to be picky.

“Personal assistant,” he confirmed, nodding.

I sat there, unsure of how to feel. The idea of working directly under Steve made me uneasy, especially after everything that had happened on this trip. But at the same time... I couldn’t afford to turn this down. Not now. Not with my parents breathing down my neck, and no other job prospects on the horizon. Maybe, just maybe, this could lead to something more. Soon, enough I’ll find myself in a position where I’ll no longer need Steve and I could just leave.

“So,” Steve said, interrupting my thoughts, “what do you think?”

I hesitated, taking a deep breath before nodding. “Okay,” I finally said, unsure of whether I was convincing him or myself.

Steve clapped his hands together, his excitement palpable. “Awesome. We’ll get you set up before the start of the new quarter, then.”

He picked up the rest of the tart he’d fed me earlier and brought it to my lips again. I leaned forward to take a bite, but a small drop of fruit glaze fell onto my chin. Before I could react, Steve wiped it away with his thumb and, without breaking eye contact, licked it off.

“Welcome to Rogers and Co.”

[nordic-noire]

'You need to be cold to be a queen.'

[alexandy99]

I’ve never heard the term compdom before today but I’m glad there’s a word for the thing I’ve always felt

[mithliya]

people do not take psychology or neuroscience seriously and it shows!!! would u be arguing with engineers about engineering? architects about architecture? cellists about the cello? no??? then why on earth are u acting like those of us who studied psychology and/or neuroscience dont somehow have knowledge and introspection into our fields that u as someone with 0 educational background in the field lack... like ive been studying this for Years but ok im sure u spending ur free time reading research papers while lacking any of the foundational understanding and background knowledge necessary to correctly interpret psych & neuro research is the same.

[seoafin]

im sorry i know hs era geto was horrible to be around with gojo but he's genuinely so kind and charming around you. the perfect gentleman. it's not as if he isn't all these things and more, and it's not as if you don't see him at his worst (with gojo egging him on in all the condescending, cocky glory afforded to two boys who called themselves the strongest) you're just so used to how he frees his schedule just to help you carry bagged heavy soil across campus because you've started to tend to the flowerbed outside the dorms, all the times he's offered you his jacket in the cold, and how he's so patient with you when the two of you go out. he's just...so selective about who gets him like that it always takes you more than a second to register the switch. seeing his familiar smile curl with a hint of condescension, not enough that he appears genuinely invested, but just enough that any person on the receiving end of it is going to get flustered. or the way he brushes them off with nothing more than a glance and a comment that could be taken the wrong way (it's meant to be) and it all gives you so much whiplash especially when he turns a real genuine smile on you and gently takes your hand and leads you away.

[selfless-solipsist]

Hello! I just wanted to say that your Peepers x reader fic is amazing! Are you actually planning to write conflict between everyone or something? Because that would be great!

Thank you so much!

As for your question, I have something planned, yes. However, I don't want to reveal too much (because that would be a spoiler lol).

Still, I'm trying my best to NOT keep the story slow-burn, because it's a cartoon after all. That's why you could say that my pacing is bad but... oh well.. I want to write about 30 chapters in total so- I can't just drag it out.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 2

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Dividers by @Strangergraphics

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

Story Masterlist

The first week flew by faster than I expected. Every morning began with fancy breakfasts, the kind I only saw in magazines, avocado toast, fluffy omelets, and fresh fruit that looked like it was picked moments before being served. Sharon, of course, made sure everyone knew she was "so not into carbs anymore" while sipping on her detox tea. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes every time she said it.

After breakfast, it was always beach yoga. At first, I was reluctant to join in. Honestly, the idea of stretching out in front of everyone made me feel vulnerable, like they’d all be watching, waiting for me to slip up. But Steve wouldn’t let me bow out so easily.

“Kiwi, you’re being unfair if you don’t participate,” he’d said that first morning, his intense gaze pushing me to comply. I didn’t want o argue, so I went along.

Turns out, I didn’t completely hate it. I found that Natasha was really good at it, and Peter surprised me by being much more flexible than I’d thought possible. Thor and Bruce were always messing around, making snarky comments about “zen” while Jane and Pepper giggled on their mats. Even Sharon managed to keep her mouth shut long enough to focus on her poses, and since Steve chose to claim the mat right beside me, I felt her gaze wandering toward our direction every so often.

We did something new every day, snorkeling, paddle boarding, hiking through the lush landscape that stretched around the villa. One afternoon, Jane tried convincing me to join her and Thor on a boat trip to explore some nearby coves, but I declined, claiming I needed some alone time. Truthfully, the constant reminders that I didn’t quite belong were grating on me. I’d still catch the occasional pointed look between Sharon and Steve, or notice how the girls would subtly nudge me toward Peter at every opportunity. Notably, Sharon, Jane and Pepper. Natasha backed off once she realized I wasn’t into the idea.

Despite the tension, though, I had to admit, I was having fun. Even if I was still on the outside looking in.

One night, after a particularly long day, I overheard Sharon and Steve whispering, their voices hushed but heated. I couldn't make out everything, but toward the end, I could hear Steve’s voice clear as day “Yeah, well some promises are meant to be broken”

I left before I could be caught snooping, but hearing Steve and Sharon argue gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. For all her perfect appearances, maybe Sharon didn’t have it all under control after all.

On the seventh day, group had decided that they wanted to do a bonfire, and I had been tasked with starting the fire, which, of course, wasn’t going well. Every time I thought I had it, the flames would sputter out, leaving me more and more frustrated. Natasha sat nearby, casually chatting with Bruce, both of them too invested in their conversation to notice my issues with starting the fire.

Amidst my struggle, I briefly wondered if Bruce and Natasha had a thing, but before I could delve further into those thoughts Steve appeared at my side. “Need some help?” he asked, crouching down beside me.

I glanced up, heat rushed to my cheeks in embarrassment, but I nodded. “Yeah, I guess I’m not much of a fire-starter.”

He chuckled softly, taking over without a word. Within minutes, the flames were roaring, casting a warm, dancing light across the sand.

“See? Not as bad as you thought it’d be,” Steve said, standing back to admire his work, and in that moment, you knew he didn’t mean the fire.

I sighed, leaning back a little. “Yeah, I guess not. Thanks… for, you know, letting me stay. Even though you kinda forced my hand,” I added with a half-smile.

Steve smiled back, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Does that mean you’re staying for the whole trip?”

I paused, weighing my options. Part of me still wanted to run, but I wasn’t ready to face my parent yet. Especially now that this vacation was starting to take a better turn. “Yeah, I’ll stay,” I said at last.

He gave a small nod, satisfaction flickering across his face before turning back toward the group. Eventually, everyone joined me by the fire, settling in comfortably. Sharon nestled against Steve’s side, Tony teased Pepper while Jane laughed at a joke Thor was telling, and Peter casually slipped into the seat next to mine.

Steve handed me an unopened beer with a bottle opener, raising his own drink to a toast. “Here’s to the first week of vacation,” he announced. “And to Kiwi staying with us.” He looked my way with a smirk and a wink before bringing his attention back to Sharon.

Sharon shot me a look, something close to annoyance flickering in her eyes before she rolled them and muttered a dull “Yay.” Everyone else raised their bottles in unison, but I noticed Steve watching me, waiting.

I glanced down at the unopened beer in my hand. “I don’t really drink,” I said quietly, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. “Alcoholism runs in my family.”

It was a lie, but it was the excuse I always used when I felt pressured to drink. Steve didn’t back off, though. He just gave me a slow, almost calculating smile. “It’s just one beer, Kiwi. I promise I’ll keep an eye on you if you want a second.”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of everyone gaze. Then, almost against my better judgment, I shrugged popping the cap and taking a swig.

As I drank, I caught Peter watching me from the corner of my eye, his expression unreadable. The fire crackled loudly in the silence that followed, and for a moment, I thought I saw Natasha exchange a knowing glance with Bruce. But I brushed it off.

What’s one beer?

I stumbled into the villa, the world swaying a little more than I was used to. Three beers. Not drunk, but definitely tipsy. Everyone else was still outside, laughing and carrying on, and I just couldn't handle the thought of joining them in their level of drunken chaos. So, I waved them off with a lazy, "Goodnight," and made my way inside.

Each step felt heavier, like gravity was trying to pull me into the floor. I rarely drank this much. Usually, it was just a flute of champagne at some family. But three beers was something, I really wasn’t into.

When I finally made it to my room, I knew exactly how to navigate the dark to get to my bed. But my clothes... I couldn’t stand sleeping in my normal clothes, not even after a night like this. Just change, Kiwi, it’ll take a second, I thought, knowing full well that moving any more might send me falling.

It took everything I had to peel off my clothes, my fingers fumbling with fabric like I’d forgotten how to undress. When my clothes were finally off, I opted to just sleep in the nude, unable to fathom putting on pajamas without falling apart at the seems

Finally, I let myself collapse into the bed, my body sinking deep into the mattress. My head was spinning a bit, but sleep was wrapping around me like a warm blanket, pulling me in. “This isn’t so bad,” I thought, my eyelids heavy. *I just need to sleep it off...*

But then something felt... off.

My eyes fluttered open, and that’s when I saw it. A dark figure standing at the edge of my bed.

Panic shot through me, but I couldn’t move. My body wouldn’t respond. I was frozen, trapped in place, my chest tightening as fear flooded every inch of me. I tried to scream, to sit up, to do *anything*, but it was like my body had shut down. I could hear weird, muffled grunts and gurgles coming from the shadowy figure, but they sounded distant, distorted, like they weren’t even real.

*Who is that? What’s happening? *

My mind raced, trying to make sense of it, but I couldn’t focus. The fear was overwhelming, suffocating. And just as quickly as it started, it ended. My body gave in, and I felt myself slipping back into unconsciousness, the image of that shadow still burned into my mind as sleep finally pulled me under again.

The next morning when I woke up, the memory of the shadowy figure still lingered in my mind. My heart raced for a second, but with the clarity of daylight, I convinced myself it was just a bad dream. Maybe it was the beers messing with my head or the exhaustion from the trip. Either way, I brushed it off as nothing more than a fleeting nightmare.

I threw on a robe and made my way to breakfast. When I stepped into the dining area, only one person was sitting at the table—Steve.

"Morning," Steve greeted me, his voice cheerful, a little too chipper for someone who had been drinking the night before. I scanned the table, noticing the elaborate breakfast spread, but it felt odd not seeing anyone else.

“Morning,” I replied, hesitating for a second before sitting down. "Where is everyone?"

"Hungover," he said with a chuckle. "They really went all out last night”

That made sense. They all drank a lot me than me last night. "And you? How come you're not suffering?"

Steve gave a small smirk, shrugging. "My system’s made of steel, so I rarely get hungover."

Of course, he didn't. Steve seemed invincible most of the time, and I wasn't surprised he could shrug off a night of heavy drinking. I glanced at the food in front of us. "Should we wait for them?"

"Nah," Steve waved it off. "With the way they were drinking, we might be here till dinner before anyone shows up. Go ahead and dig in."

I didn’t need much convincing. I slid into one of the side chairs, while Steve took his usual place at the head of the table. We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Steve broke it.

"Got any plans for today?" he asked, a little too casually.

Surprised, I looked up from my plate. "I figured since we were staying in, since no one else is gonna be up for anything until later, right?"

Steve raised an eyebrow, his tone playful. "Just because they're out for the count doesn't mean we have to be. I was thinking we could head into town. Do some sightseeing, meet the locals."

"Meet the locals?" I echoed, genuinely surprised. Steve didn’t exactly strike me as the type to go out of his way to meet people outside his own circle. "You want to hang out with locals?"

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "We’ll stick to the tourist spots, don’t worry. And just because I’m from a different social class doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy stepping out of it now and then."

I caught the subtle dig and realized he’d picked up on my jab. I decided to brush it off, unsure of how else to respond. "Sounds fun, but I just downloaded a new book on my phone, and I thought I’d spend the day cracking into it."

Steve leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "There’ll be plenty of time for that later.” Pushing back into his chair “C’mon, it’ll be good to get out of the villa for a bit. When we get back, everyone should be ready for dinner, and you can get to your book."

I hesitated, weighing the options. Truthfully, it did sound nice to get out, but one thing nagged at me. "What about Sharon?” I knew she wouldn’t like the idea of me and Steve hanging out together all day. Even if she was sure nothing would happen. Back when we were all at University Sharon had always been very possessive over Steve, something I found that she hasn’t quite grown out of since.

Steve’s expression softened slightly, and he gave me a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry about Sharon. She’ll be fine."

It took less convincing than I thought, but eventually, I caved. After all, Steve wasn’t wrong—sitting in the villa all day wasn’t going to do me much good, and maybe getting out would help clear my mind from last night’s weird dream. Plus, the idea of staying cooped up with Sharon still hungover didn’t seem appealing.

"Alright," I finally agreed, sighing in defeat. "Let’s do it."

Steve grinned, pleased with himself. "Great. We’ll head out after morning yoga. Sound good?"

I nodded, the tightness in my chest easing up just a little. After breakfast, we made our way out to the beach for our routine yoga session, the sound of the waves calming my nerves. The fresh air helped clear my head, and by the time we finished and headed back to our rooms to get ready for the day, I was actually looking forward to seeing what the rest of the day had in store.

The market buzzed with life, a mix of scents and sounds that made my head spin. Everywhere I looked, there were bright colors, loud voices, and locals selling everything from spices to handmade crafts. Steve, surprisingly, fit right in, despite how out of place I felt. He was bartering with a vendor, his grin disarming, his confidence unshakable. I hung back, watching him work his magic.

After a few minutes, he walked over to me, holding something small in his hand. “Thought you might like this,” he said, handing me a delicate wooden carving of a flower.

I took it, feeling the smooth surface under my fingers. “What is it?”

“Frangipani,” Steve said, his eyes gleaming like he was proud to know something I didn’t. “It’s a flower native to the Maldives. Beautiful, isn’t it? Known for its lovely fragrance and unique beauty.” He paused, watching my reaction. “It’s associated with love and new life. Quite fitting, don’t you think?”

I blinked, what was he getting at? “Well, I’m sure Sharon would love it.” I said trying to hand him back the wooden carving.

Instead of taking it back, Steve holds his hands up in refusal. “It’s for you” he says. I stared down at the flower in my hand, feeling its weight even though it was light. The symbolism, the beauty, everything about it made me feel like there was more to this gift than just a thoughtful gesture.

Then I started wondering if Steve had been apart of the plan to set me up with Peter. It didn’t seem like it, and frankly, I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions just to be wrong. So, I kept the thought to myself, hoping that this was nothing more than a simple gift.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, slipping the trinket into my pocket, the discomfort in my chest lingered.

Steve just smiled, that same easy charm never faltering. We continued through the market, his casual jokes carefully pulling me out of my thoughts.

Next Steve convinced me to go on a boat ride. The gentle sway of the boat rocked me into a strange calm, the cool breeze brushing past as we cruised along the island, it all felt so peaceful, the endless ocean stretching out in every direction, making me feel like a small piece in a large system. Steve sat beside me, more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. His usual cocky air had softened, and for a moment, he almost seemed… normal.

"That’s where they used to fish for manta rays," Steve said, pointing out to a distant spot in the water. "They stopped the practice years ago and turned it into a conservation zone."

I nodded, pretending to care about manta rays or conservation or whatever, but my mind was elsewhere. The weight of everything I’d been holding onto lately, from my job to my future, felt like it was pushing down on me, threatening to break through the calm the boat ride offered.

Steve’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You, okay? You seem a little distant.”

I blinked, not expecting the question. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

“About what?” He turned his head to look at me, his eyes not demanding, just curious. For once, there was no smirk, no hint of arrogance. He seemed genuinely interested.

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to share anything real with him. But something about the quiet sea and the way he looked at me, like he actually wanted to hear, disarmed me. Before I knew it, I was spilling the truth.

“It’s just… graduating and all. I thought by now I’d have my life figured out; you know? Like, I’d be working in my field, doing something meaningful. But here I am, back to square one, still jobless and feeling like a failure.”

I hadn’t meant to say that much, but the words just kept coming, like I’d been waiting for someone. Anyone. to ask.

Steve didn’t interrupt. He just listened, nodding along like he actually understood. And maybe he did, or at least wanted me to believe he did.

“It’s frustrating,” I continued, the knot in my chest loosening just a bit. “I spent all that time studying, working my ass off, and now it feels like none of it mattered. Like I’m not good enough to make it work.”

Steve leaned back, gazing out at the horizon. “You’re good enough. Sometimes it’s not about skill or effort, it’s about luck, timing.” He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Or maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “I’ve looked everywhere, Steve. It’s not like I haven’t tried.”

He nodded thoughtfully, then gave me a sideways glance. “You don’t have to keep trying so hard. You’re allowed to breathe, you know. There’s more than one way to get where you want to go.”

I bit my lip, unsure what he was getting at. Was this his version of advice?

Steve shifted slightly; his tone still casual but with a hint of something deeper. “I’m sure your parents didn’t send you to school just to see you struggle like this, right?”

I stiffened slightly at the mention of my parents. He wasn’t wrong. My parents expected a lot from me, and failure wasn’t an option in their eyes. I sighed, feeling the familiar pressure creep back. “Yeah, they didn’t.”

Steve nodded again, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before he looked back at the sea. “Well, if you ever need help... I could always talk to my dad. Maybe set you up with something real. Something that actually matches your degree.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Your dad? Like, at his company? Rogers and Co?”

He grinned, “Yeah, why not? I’ve seen what you’re capable of. It’s not like it’d be a handout.”

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me was flattered, the other part suspicious. Steve wasn’t exactly known for his altruism, but in that moment, he made it sound like he was doing me a favor just because he could. Maybe it was the way he said it, like it was no big deal. Like I didn’t have to worry about my future anymore.

“I’ll… think about it,” I muttered, trying to process his offer.

“Take your time,” Steve said, flashing me that charming grin. "We've still got plenty of trip left."

As the boat ride continued, the gnawing feeling of failure in my gut didn’t go away entirely, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe things wouldn’t stay this bad forever. At least, not with someone like Steve in my corner.

After the boat ride, Steve suggested we stop for lunch at a quiet seaside café. The breeze from the ocean mixed with the scent of seafood and spices, giving everything a laid-back, tropical feel. It should’ve been relaxing, but the moment we sat down, my stomach twisted in knots—not from hunger, but from the nerves that always seemed to grab a hold of me lately.

He flipped through the menu like it was second nature, while I stared at mine, feeling overwhelmed by the options. Why did everything sound so... rich? I wasn’t even sure what half of it was. Feeling a bit self-conscious, I decided to play it safe and order a salad. Something light. Something that wouldn’t make me feel as exposed.

When the waiter came, I told him my choice, but Steve barely looked at me before raising an eyebrow. "A salad?" His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to make me feel like I’d been caught out. He looked at me in that way only he could, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. "Come on, Kiwi, we’ve been active all day, you need more than lettuce."

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I stared down at the menu again. "I’m not that hungry," I muttered.

But Steve didn’t buy my lie, instead, he chuckled. “That’s nonsense,” he said before turning to the waiter. “Bring us a full spread. We’ll have the curry, the grilled fish, and the flatbreads," he ordered, listing the dishes like he’d been eating them his whole life.

When the food arrived, it smelled amazing, plates full of fragrant curry, fresh fish, and buttery flatbreads covered the table. I hesitated, glancing at Steve, but he just smiled, his confidence unwavering. "Trust me, it’s good."

Everything was delicious. As we ate, the conversation flowed more easily than I expected. Steve told a few funny stories about himself and his friends, and before I knew it, I was laughing along, my nerves slipping away and we shared stories from university, and somewhere along the line, I realized I’d started eating without overthinking every bite.

For once, I wasn’t worrying about how I looked while I ate. I was just... enjoying myself. It felt almost normal. I took a sip of my drink and casually asked, "Whatever happened to Bucky? I remember you guys being inseparable."

Steve raised an eyebrow "Bucky? Yeah, we were… we are, he’s just... busy with some family stuff."

"Oh," I nodded, "I figured you guys would be on this trip together."

"Yeah, well," Steve leaned back, smirking a little, "life happens, you know? He’s laying low, sorting things out.”

I smiled, "That’s good. I always liked Bucky."

Steve’s grin widened, “Everyone likes Bucky.” He took another sip of his drink, the conversation flowing smoothly. “But don’t worry, he’ll be around next time.”

On our way back to the villa, Steve suddenly suggested taking a detour for a short hike up a nearby trail. At first, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. After the boat ride and lunch, the idea of hiking, especially in this heat, seemed like a bad idea. But Steve was insistent, and he gave me that look like he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

"Come on, it’s not that long of a hike," he said, flashing that easy smile of his. "The view’s incredible. Trust me."

I sighed but agreed, figuring it couldn’t hurt to check it out. The trail was steep in some parts, and I found myself struggling to keep up at times. Steve, however, moved with ease. Every now and then, he’d offer me his hand to help me over a rock or up a tricky slope, and I accepted it, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine. It was strange how he could be so patient and encouraging when I was sure he’d rather have someone who could keep up.

When we finally reached the top, I was glad I didn’t bail. The view was absolutely stunning. The sun was just beginning to dip in the sky, casting a golden glow over the island below. The ocean sparkled like something out of a painting, and for a brief moment, I forgot about everything. It was just me, Steve, and that view.

We stood there in silence for a while, both of us soaking in the scenery. Steve looked content, like he didn’t have a care in the world, while I felt a mixture of emotions. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his generosity than he let on, but in that moment, it was easy to forget my suspicions. The beauty of the island, the calmness, it was all too perfect.

Without really thinking about it, I blurted out, "You really think you could talk to your dad for me? About a job, I mean?"

Steve turned to me, clearly surprised by my sudden outburst. For a second, I regretted saying anything. But then he burst into a hearty laugh, the sound echoing off the cliffs around us.

"Sure," he said, still chuckling. "As soon as the trip’s over, I’ll have that conversation with him."

I blinked, stunned by how easily he agreed.

"Really?" I asked, feeling a relief.

"Of course," Steve replied, giving me a wink. "But to make sure I keep my promise, we should probably exchange numbers."

He pulled out his phone, and I fumbled for mine, still feeling a little shocked by how smoothly the day had gone. Maybe things really were starting to turn around for me. We swapped numbers, and as the sun dipped lower into the horizon, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny flicker of hope.

By the time we got back to the villa, I was surprised at how quickly the day had passed. The sun was already gone disappearing behind the horizon, exposing the stars and moon in the sky. I hadn’t expected to enjoy myself, not like this, but somehow, Steve made it easy. He didn’t push, didn’t make me feel out of place, just letting the day unfold.

We stepped inside, and the villa was eerily quiet. Everyone else was still dealing with the aftermath of last night’s drinking marathon. Sharon was nowhere to be found, most likely still knocked out in her room. I could hear some noise from Thor and Jane’s room, loud enough to know they were up and active clearly preoccupied with each other. Tony and Pepper’s room was dead silent, and there was no sign of Natasha and Bruce.

As Steve and I walked into the living area, Peter was sprawled out on the couch, casually watching TV like nothing was out of the ordinary. He looked up when we entered, gave us both a quick nod, but didn’t say a word about us being out together all day.

"Good trip?" Peter asked, his eyes flicking between Steve and me.

"It was great," Steve answered smoothly, sliding onto the couch next to him like this was the most normal thing in the world. "We hit up the market, went for a boat ride, you know, the usual tourist stuff."

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down on one of the chairs, feeling a bit awkward about how... normal everything seemed. Peter didn’t seem fazed at all. No questions, no snide comments. Just a casual conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Sounds fun," Peter said, turning his attention back to the TV. His tone was so neutral that I couldn’t tell if he was actually interested or just filling the silence.

Steve leaned back, stretching his arms along the back of the couch. "It was. Kiwi kept up just fine."

I glanced at Steve, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or just throwing in a compliment for good measure. Either way, I couldn’t shake the weird feeling that lingered from the day. Maybe I was overthinking everything, but something about how effortlessly he’d made me feel comfortable bothered me.

"We’re all heading to dinner later, right?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Peter gave a lazy nod. "Yeah. Once everyone’s awake, I guess."

I nodded back, standing up from the chair. "I’ll, uh, go get ready then."

As I made my way to my room, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d misjudged Steve. He seemed so genuine today like he actually cared. But there was still that small voice in the back of my mind, whispering to run.