#they went from confused to anxious to extremely uncomfortable

[lilislegacy]

*on some quest, post heroes of olympus. idk probably some point while they’re in college*

annabeth: we should go to the base first, then to the ship

percy: no, we should go to the ship first, then to the base, then back to the ship

annabeth: um, no? that will take unnecessary time. we need to get supplies from the base to bring back to the ship

percy: yeah, but we should examine the ship and talk to the crew first to see if we need additional resources, because there’s a storm coming now. and if we do need stuff that we don't know about now and we do your idea, we'll have to go to the base, then the ship, then back to the base, then back to the ship.

annabeth: but i already know what we need, so you’re wrong

percy: no, you don’t, because you’re not a sea expert like me and the crew. so you’re wrong

annabeth, glaring at him:

percy, glaring right back:

annabeth, still glaring: i am so hot for you right now

[redlinespeedster]

pretty please oscar piastri degradation im feral over his post-spain photos

CRAVING THE NEW !! ☆

oscar piastri 𝒙 fem!reader

[summary] Oscar was the perfect boyfriend—sweet, thoughtful, chivalrous to the extreme. You were used to his soft whispers, those breathy I-love-yous even in the middle of moans. But that night, right after he took the win at the Spanish Grand Prix, you looked at him with this different kind of spark in your eyes and dropped a request that knocked the air out of him: you wanted him to degrade you, no holding back. And there was no way he could say no. (1.7k)

[warnings] smut !! rough sex, degrading dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, Oscar is mean. Spanish is my first language, and I usually write all my fics in Spanish first, then translate them myself with a lot of effort. Sorry if anything sounds off or if there are mistakes.

[notes] I’ve been drooling over those pics for like three days. Damn, he looks so freaking good. Wish I were Lily, seriously. 😫

Your whole life, you had always liked the good guys—the ones with sweet words, the ones who brought you flowers on dates and opened the car door or any door wherever you went together. You always thought good guys were simply better. And Oscar proved it every single time.

He blushed every time he talked about you. He loved showing you off, and his words always carried that sweet tone—even when he had you tangled in his sheets. Oscar was talented at many things beyond motorsport, but his greatest gift was knowing exactly how to make you feel desired, cherished… one of a kind.

But over time, your darker desires began to awaken inside you. They were fantasies you’d been suppressing for years, but now they became frequent—impossible to ignore. It wasn’t about wanting someone else or being unsatisfied with the way you and him made love—not at all. There was simply a smoldering hunger within you, a need to explore something new… with him.

At first, you felt afraid. Afraid that Oscar might get offended, that he’d take your request as a criticism or a warning that your sex life wasn’t working. A lot of people don’t even have a mind open enough to understand that wanting to try new things doesn’t mean what came before was bad; sometimes, it’s simply about the curiosity for the unexpected.

You waited all race weekend to tell him officially. You wanted to do it when you were both home, alone, with no one who could interrupt the conversation by knocking on the door.

Oscar was genuinely happy—you could see it on his face, mostly in the way his cheeks lifted when he smiled. You, on the other hand, were anxious, anticipating how things might go, and unfortunately, he noticed.

“Baby… is everything okay? You’ve seemed kinda off since we got off the plane,” he asks, placing a hand on your knee in a gentle, understanding gesture.

Your eyes fill with tears from the anxiety. You didn’t mean to cry, but the idea of telling Oscar what’s going on makes you uncomfortable. You knew you could trust him with anything; what you didn’t know was how he’d react.

“Something’s going on with me. It’s not that I don’t love you or that I don’t like the way we have sex, but…” You stop when you see Oscar looking at you, confused and worried, so you decide to just be direct. “I want you to degrade me.”

The weirdest part? He doesn’t even seem surprised. There’s no trace of disappointment on his face either—none of that dramatic “you want this because you don’t love me anymore” stuff. Nothing like that. On the contrary, he grabs you by the hips and pulls you into that perfect space between his legs. His warm breath brushes against your ear—soft, steady—as his fingers slowly slide through your hair.

“You really want that? How come you never told me?” he asks. You turn your head to look him in the eyes, and there’s something about the way your pupils dilate that sparks an odd tenderness in him.

“It’s just… I didn’t know how you’d take it” you admit. Your body shivers when he lets out a low laugh, dry and almost amused.

There’s a sexual tension in the room that practically scorches you, stealing your breath. You feel his hands rest on your shoulders, then slowly slide down. He traces your collarbone with the tip of his fingers in a way that makes you shiver, and starts unbuttoning your tiny shirt. Your cheeks flush instantly, intimidated by how his gaze stays locked on you.

“Embarrassed, huh?” he asks, but you’re not really sure what to say—you just stay quiet. His hands move over your chest on top of your shirt, and your heart starts racing. “Why though, babe? It’s not like you’ve ever had a dirty mind or anything.”

His thumbs start teasing your nipples through the thin fabric of your white shirt. He immediately notices you’re not wearing a bra and smirks. Not a big smile—more like a cocky one, like he’s lowkey amused by how easy it is to get you like this.

“I bet you’re soaked. You always get like this. Acting like a bitch in heat.”

A slight jolt of arousal runs through your body. His voice, deeper than usual, and his words catch you off guard. You’re still not completely used to hearing him talk like that, but you don’t mind… if anything, you want more.

He's not wrong, your pussy is dripping.

He notices the second his hand moves down and his fingers slide over the denim fabric of your shorts. Your nose brushes against his; he’s calm, eyes half-lidded, with an almost taunting stillness. You, on the other hand, are a mess—you can barely breathe.

“You’re not even trying to hide it. I spent the whole damn weekend focused on my race, stressing about losing, and all you could think about was riding me like the filthy little slut you are. Am I wrong, babe?

His hand unbuttoned your pants until they dropped and bunched up around your ankles. He can see the wet stain on your panties—sticky and damp. You’d soaked through the fabric. He presses his fingers gently over it, and as a result, they get wet too. But what really gets to you is the moan that slips out, caused by how sensitive you are.

He doesn’t even bother taking your panties off; he just lazily pushes the fabric aside, leaving you completely exposed. Eager anticipation made your clit throb.

Oscar used to touch you slowly, taking his time to gently slide his fingers through your wet folds and then sweetly rub your clit. But this time, it’s different. He quickly slips two fingers into your hole, curling them into a hook to hit that exact spot inside you. Then, once you’ve gotten used to it, he starts moving them in and out with steady force, pulling deep moans from your throat that fill the room.

“Fuck, Osc!” you moan out loud, and you feel him pull his fingers out just to slap your pussy gently—a move that sends an instant jolt through your body and makes you squirm.

“Shut up, slut.” he orders, and you feel his fingers curl back inside you, pounding your poor hole with a near-brutal rhythm, thrusting in and out without mercy. The way he timed each thrust to hit that perfect spot inside you before pulling back was just unreal.

His hand grips your hips, trying to pull you even closer, making your ass rub against his hardness. You can feel his erection—still clothed—pressing firmly against your skin. His hands move down with urgency to get rid of the fabric in the way, unbuckling his belt without wasting a second.

His damp hands grip your hips tightly before he throws you onto the bed without a second thought, making you bounce against the mattress with a muffled moan. He grabs you by the ankles and drags you toward him, settling between your legs as his body drops over yours, trapping you with no room to escape.

“I can only imagine the agony,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours while his hands grip your bare thighs. Then he lifts them firmly, spreading them and pushing them toward your body until your knees are nearly pressed against your stomach. “You spent the whole week watching me race, dying for me to wreck you. You don’t like it when I talk sweet, do you? When I tell you how good you look or how amazing you feel. What really turns you on is when I treat you like my throwaway toy.”

You feel him drip slowly onto the lower part of your stomach—warm and wet—leaving a sticky sensation clinging to your skin. Then his cock slides gently through your folds, not entering, just teasing; he only wants to watch you lose control.

“Oscar… please.” you sob between moans, clinging tightly to his back like letting go would mean losing your mind. “I can’t take it… I can’t.”

He shifts, kneeling in front of your pussy—completely exposed, utterly wrecked. The tip of his cock slides in slowly until it disappears inside you, filling you up completely. He pauses for a second to let you adjust, and in the next, he’s thrusting hard, the sound of your bodies slapping echoing through every corner of your house.

Oscar moans too. He moans because you’re squeezing him just right—hot, wet, and perfect—driving him insane. His hands dig into your thighs, pushing your legs toward your chest to spread you open wider, so he can bury himself as deep as possible and fuck you without mercy.

“Fuck…” he groans, voice rough as his face twists in pure pleasure. The look on his face—that mix of ecstasy and desperation—sets you off instantly. Your walls tighten around him, like your body’s trying to keep him there till the very end. You’re right on the edge, seconds away from turning the moment into a glorious mess. “You want me to fill you up? I will. I’ll stuff you so full my cum’ll be dripping out of that pathetic pussy for days.”

You can feel how tightly you’re clenching around him, until you finally make him come inside you, milking him for every last drop. Your pussy takes it all in, savoring every bit until you’re left a creamy mess, mixed with your own orgasm that bursts inside you too. The pleasure hits so hard it leaves you dazed, gasping, your body trembling and your legs on the verge of giving out.

He looks at you tenderly, finally letting go of that dominant side once he sees you’re satisfied with what he gave you. He smiles softly and leans in again to kiss your forehead. Your cheeks, inevitably, flush all over again.

“I like this…” he murmurs quietly, his hand gently caressing your cheek. You raise an eyebrow, curious, not really getting what he means. “Fucking you till you can’t breathe and then watching you blush like a virgin. That’s just something I’ll never get tired of, huh baby?”

[mah-t-wordblog]

first time doing an ask so im kinda nervous lol

is it ok if i ask for a MHA league of villains tickle fic with a lee Mustard and ler Toga?

A tiny plot i have is that Mustard is having trouble sleeping and Toga helps him by tickling him, i kinda see them having a older sister and younger brother dynamic

If your uncomfortable with that then i totally understand.

First, I apologize for the delay, I love writing but sometimes I really overwhelm myself, but I'm still here! For the anon from the first request, I don't really know who this character called Mustard is, so I put Twice! hehehe I hope you both like it anyway 💛💛

I need to sleep

Lee: Twice (Gin Bubaigawara)

Ler: Himiko Toga

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Ships: NONE

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if you don’t like it, just scroll down 

This fanfic is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Himiko Toga woke up in the middle of the night, it was really late and she just wanted to sleep in peace

But she was hearing a strange noise, it sounded like two people talking in the next room

“I can do it”

“I can’t, I can’t”

“I need to sleep”

“Who needs to sleep?!”

“No, no, no!”

The girl was confused, but she was tired of all that noise, so she walked to the room, where she could tell the sound was coming from

The strange thing was that that room belonged to Twice

Toga slowly opened the door and peeked in, managing to see a desperate and visibly anxious Gin Bubaigawara

“Gin?” She walked up to him

“Ah! Himiko! I woke her up, idiot! I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Actually yes” she sat down next to him “but it’s okay, I was curious to know where the sound was coming from and came to check”

“I’m sorry, Himiko”

Toga smiled “stop apologizing, now tell me Gin, why are you like this?”

Twice looked at her a little in disbelief, why? Why was he like this? No one had ever asked him something like that

Did she just care about him? No… she must be lying

“I can’t calm down to sleep” he pointed to his head, which was hidden behind his mask “he won’t leave me alone. I don’t need to sleep, haha!”

“Oh…” Toga felt sorry for her good friend “let me help you, Gin! I’ll make you sleep in no time” she smiled

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh!” Toga sat very close to the other, her usual cheerful smile plastered on her face “I know a few ways to make you really tired…” she shook her fingers at him

“What is this? Himiko?”

“Let me show you, Gin!”

The girl quickly dug her fingers into Twice’s sides, making the man scream, normally he wouldn’t give in to the tickling so quickly, but it was so sudden, he really didn’t expect it

“Nohohoho! NOHOHOHOHO! STOP stohohohohop!!”

“You need to rest, so I’m helping you get really tired! Aren’t I a genius? Huh, Gin?”~” she began to scribble lightly under the man’s shirt, on his ribs, making him start laughing uncontrollably

“HAHEHEHEHE! NOHOHOHOHO, PLEHEHEHEHAHAHASE!” Twice fell back on his bed, trying to grab the hands that were attacking him, but Toga was agile and extremely determined to finish him off now, so he would never be able to beat her.

“I’ll WHAHAHAKEJE UHUHUP EVERYBOHOHODY!”

“Ah… Tomura would be really mad if he woke up to you screaming in the middle of the night, it’s true. But what can I do?” She smiled even wider “I have to help you!”

Finally, after a lot of effort, Toga managed to make Twice’s laugh go silent, confirming that she had tired him out a lot.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sleepy…” the man answered sincerely.

“Don’t you think you would sleep better without the mask?” She ran her hand over the other’s head.

“Without the mask? What a stupid idea, I can’t do it, Himiko.” Twice seemed really disappointed.

“Wait! I have something to help you.”

Toga ran to her room and came back with a pink headband with flowers printed on it.

“How about it?” She wrapped it around her friend's head, so that it wouldn't bother him when he went to bed.

“T-t-thank you so much!” Twice hugged her, really happy with the help. “You're my best friend, Himiko!”

“You're my best friend too, Gin! I love you!” She smiled once more, hugging him tightly.

Toga wouldn't let go of him, she had promised herself.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Thanks so much for reading!! 💛💛

[oneshotnewbie]

Part two of the new, usual oneshot, with Olivia Benson? It was soo good!!!

Authors note: Because I'm in a good mood today, here's a second oneshot for you. Have fun reading, my sweet ones ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

“Could the CSU salvage anything else?” Olivia asked everyone around as she swiveled her head in all directions to look around. She was extremely afraid for you, concern written all over her face. Your phone was in her hand, but the blood could be from anyone in Manhattan. Maybe you lost it and someone who was bleeding tripped over it. At least that is what she tried to tell herself so as not to panic and get lost in it.

"No. Other than the cell phone and the blood, we have no clues about what really happened here yet," the blonde answered her immediately and delicately placed her hand on her best friend's shoulder. She tried to calm her down with circular movements, but secretly she knew that every muscle in the lieutenant's body would only relax when you were back safe. "When was this found and by whom?"

"The call came in at 4:36am from an William Jacobs. He has already been driven to the station and is waiting to give his statement." the brunette stood rooted to her spot, leaning against the railing of the Central Park and feeling the rain slowly creeping through her coat while her blouse slowly soaked.

Her gaze had shifted downwards, silent tears that mixed with the pelting rain running down her cheeks. In the blurry vision she saw black boots walking towards her and when she raised her head, Fin was standing right in front of her, holding an umbrella over her figure. They walked back to their car together. When they got there, Olivia fell into his arms and began to cling to him for support. She felt as if the ground beneath her feet was slipping away. "Where is she?"

"We will find out but first you have to calm down. You will not help anyone that way."

He watched as she nodded slightly, wiping away her tears and trying to put a soft smile on her lips that she only partially managed. She sucked in the cold air and took a seat of her black Volvo. Only when the seargent had sat in the passenger seat did she start the car, traffic moving slowly.

When they arrived, Olivia Benson walked briskly into the building, her brow furrowed as she nervously climbed the stairs. Their direct destination was the interrogation room where William Jacobs was taken. She noticed that Fin was following her, but she did not pay any attention to him, just wanted to find out as quickly as possible where her fiancée was.

As she entered the small, cold room where he sat, Olivia greeted him as warmly as she could. "Hello, I am Lieutenant Olivia Benson," she sat down across from him and opened a small notepad to write down whatever information she could. The brunette saw the man sitting there slightly anxious and uncomfortable, his eyes on the door when the door opened and someone walked in. "Seargent Fin Tutuola."

Annoyed, she rolled her eyes and tapped her fingernails impatiently on the table. This was not happening fast enough for her and she looked at her partner slightly angrily. "Mr. Jacobs, you found the cell phone this morning. Have you noticed anyone who may have been acting strangely?" he tried to control the conversation in order to take some of the burden off his boss's shoulders. "No, I was jogging when I saw the cell phone. When I went there, I saw all the blood."

“Then you called the police?” The brunette now also spoke up, letting her pen play between her fingers. She was hoping for some clue to start with, so far she had nothing except the difficult amount of blood that you could not have inflicted on yourself. "Yeah, I did not touch anything. I swear."

Both detectives nodded in agreement and quickly rose from their chairs. One after the other, they shook hands with William Jacobs before all three of them left the room together and went their separate ways.

The air was stuffy and burning as Amanda entered the precinct and looked confused at the closed door to Olivia's office. She had barricaded herself and pulled her blinds down. Biting her lip, she walked towards the office and knocked before walking in and watching her boss hold the framed picture of the two of you in her hands.

"I have something for you," the blonde spoke firmly and placed another bag on her desk that was filled with something dark in color. “Is that her wallet?” She asked aggravatedly and looked worriedly at the older woman as she realized through her widened sad expression that she had hit the mark with that assumption. It was yours. "The CSU people found it in one of the nearby trash cans, we have not looked in it yet, we wanted to leave it to you. But all the fingerprints we could find were already taken."

Olivia took the evidence bag and opened it. The wallet landed in front of her nose, on her closed laptop. Grabbing two disposable gloves from one of her desk drawers, she placed them over her hands and opened her wallet. She immediately saw a photo of the two of you together, which you always carried with you. Exactly the same one that she had on her desk.

Shaking her head hastily to clear away the tears and thoughts that were welling up, she pulled out more items, including a folded old piece of paper and a silver key. But the only thing missing was your ID card. A strange feeling came over her, one that made her heart beat faster while at the same time making her feel sick.

"A key?" Amanda stated in surprise and also pulled a pair of disposable gloves out of her pocket to take the silver material. The brunette passed it on to her without words, still staring at the folded paper she held in her hand. With shaking hands she unfolded it, the corners of the paper already torn, the writing once written in pencil barely visible. Only with her glasses could she see the thin lines of numbers written in your handwriting, a small saying underneath. -In case something happens to me-

"Amanda, please find out where the key belongs immediately. Y/n did not have it in her wallet with that number and those words for nothing.“

The person addressed nodded before looking into the thoughtful face of her best friend. "Do not worry, Liv. It is not the end of you two. Trust me, we will find her." Olivia's gaze tore away from the image she had been staring at for a long time and forced a smile. "Thanks, Manda."

[belovedrayne]

Zip – Coffee is a Hell of a Drug – Sehihel

There is a large difference in the amount of caffeine in tea versus coffee. For example, black tea, when brewed heavily, can contain on average of 47 mg of caffeine. Some stronger varieties could potentially go up to 90 mg. Green tea typically ranges from 20-45 mg, and white tea has around 6-60 mg. Now, take coffee. A regular cup of coffee starts off at around 95 mg. Naturally, brew it heavier and there is more. Espresso can have 58 mg in just a single ounce. There is a point to this, reader. Just bear with the poor Miqo’te telling this tale.

               Sehihel didn’t know any of this information at the time of this story. She mainly drank green or white teas and while she had a nice expanse of teas, she normally stuck with what she knew. So, when she saw her friend drinking a rather black looking liquid she learned the name of it. “Coffee”. The ex-gladiator probably should have known what it was but in truth she didn’t. So, she went to a coffee house not too far from where she lived and looked over the menu. One fancy word stuck out to her. She points to it and asks for it. Though, when she receives it, she is puzzled by how small the cup is. It’s not nearly the size of the cup F’zali had been drinking from. Several thoughtful moments pass before Sehihel gathers the courage to return to the counter.

               “Excuse me. I’d like this, but in a bigger cup? Like, this big?” A scarred hand motions to the eight-ounce mug for regular coffee. When the barista pushes back, concern in their face, the miqo’te nods enthusiastically. She didn’t want a sample she wanted to try the real experience.  Dubiously, the barista figured if the woman was going to pay for it then he would make it for her.  A few minutes later and Sehihel is back at her seat with a mug of espresso.

               At first, her nose crinkles at how bitter the flavor is as it strikes her tongue. It was stronger than she had expected, but she powered through. Within a few minutes the cup sat empty before her and she smiles at the barista who stared at her in awe. “Thank you.” She murmurs quietly to him, bowing her head and moving to leave.  Around the corner from the house, the miqo’te presses a palm to her chest as she feels suddenly very anxious. There was a lot going on in her life, so she pushes through it.

               The sound of a leaf skittering across the ground causes the woman to turn and look in that direction. Her pupils dilate and her already extremely fluffy tail, floofs up even more. One ear gives a twitch. Catmode.exe is activated. The miqo’te bolts after the leaf, trying to grab it as the wind carries it away from here. “Get… back… here! Oh!” She bolts over to a water feature, slapping her hand into it as she tries to catch some of the Koi. “Come. To. Mama!” She grumbles. Thankfully, her short attention span soon has her bolting off toward another sound that catches her ear. Zipping through a neighbor’s yard, knocking over several of their outdoor decorations, trying to grab the wind-chime hung too high over her head for her to get it.

               Thirty minutes later, F’zali walks up the walk to his home and pauses, tilting his head and looking up into the tree. A furrowed brow, a slightly opened mouth, and a confused expression lands on his face as he watches the woman currently clinging to the tree limb like it was a giant, rough, and uncomfortable teddy bear. Back tracking the claw marks left on the branch, down the trunk and a dismayed sound rumbles in his throat as he sees his torn-up garden. “I am going to charge you triple for that.” A chuff passes his lips next and he moves inside, still wondering why his friend was sleeping in the tree. One look on his allagan security cameras and he heaves a heavy sign, saving it to his tomestone. He was going to absolutely use this to blackmail his crackhead friend later. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I pictured Sehihel as this comic the whole time I was writing this:

[loopspoop]

Guess what I decided to do? Write! Welcome to the first chapter of the Midnight Jacket AU! The boys are having a rough time with the normal amount of Lupin violence! Hope it’s enjoyable! It’s angsty as hell! Stay tuned for more!

“Don’t be so hasty. I want the brain of a genius villain.” Dr. Mad observed him through the door. He would make an excellent specimen…

“Brain?” Lupin hesitated, frowning more. He wanted his brain? Not this tired plot again!

“That’s right. That’s why I coughed up 30 million to buy you. Let’s get to work right away.” Dr. Mad smirked, lifting his cane as he grabbed the handle.

“Wait. First I have a question. Jigen. Where’s my partner Jigen?” Lupin stood and quickly made his way toward the door. He needed to make sure he was here and safe.

Dr. Mad pulled his tranquilizer gun from the handle of his cane. He pointed it through the bars, aiming at Lupin. He needed to start his work soon.

“Wait, wait, wait! Wait a minute!” Lupin’s eyes widened as he took a step backwards. Shit shit shit shit-!

Dr. Mad pulled the trigger, the tranquilizer hitting Lupin square in the forehead. He watched as the thief stumbled back against the wall before falling to the ground unconscious. This was going to be a grand experiment!

Goemon stopped in front of the cell door, frowning as he looked inside. Two weeks in this prison hadn’t been easy on Fujiko and Jigen. They were both dirty and definitely needed a good meal. It was odd that Lupin hadn’t gotten them out sooner…or contacted him…

“You two look like you have seen better days.” He spoke up, causing Jigen and Fujiko to look toward him.

“Goemon! Fuck- took you long enough!” Jigen stood, going to the bars quickly. “Where the hell is Lupin?”

“Yeah! He’s got some nerve leaving us in here for this long!” Fujiko stood, dusting herself off. “He better have a good reason for it or else he owes us big time.” She pouted, crossing her arms.

“I have not heard from Lupin since the three of you went missing. I heard he was sold to Dr. Mad from Inspector Zenigata in passing.” Goemon frowned, slicing the bars quickly before stepping back so they could fall.

“Wait, so…you haven’t seen him at all?” Jigen hesitated, stepping out from the cell as he looked around. What the hell?

“No. I was hoping he was with you two..if that is not the case then he must be somewhere else here..” Goemon frowned, looking down the hallway as he handed Jigen and Fujiko their weapons he had found on his way in. Something was really off….

“What do you think Dr. Mad has done with him?” Fujiko frowned, looking down the hallway worriedly. She certainly hadn’t figured he would’ve been in any danger.

“No idea.” Jigen frowned, checking his Magnum over. “Fujiko, scout us a getaway car. Goemon and I will meet you outside with Lupin in five minutes.”

Fujiko frowned, nodding a bit. “You two better get him and yourselves out in one piece or I swear I’ll sell all of your stuff online.” She wouldn’t really do that…but the threat was hopefully enough motivation.

“We will be back together, that’s a promise. Now hurry.” Goemon nodded, gently ushering her toward the way he had come from.

Fujiko gave them one last glance before running off for the exit. Goemon and Jigen watched for a moment before exchanging glances. They began their search of the rest of the lab, hallway after hallway. This building was confusing as hell and…why did this doctor need 35 plus storage closets?! All of the doors were either cells or closets…rarely a lab, but not one with Lupin inside. Jigen was getting anxious, which meant he was also getting prickly. Lupin was never this hard to find any other time someone tried to trap them. Something was up..it was making them both increasingly uncomfortable as thoughts of what could be wrong kept growing in their minds and getting more extreme.

“Something is wrong..” Goemon mumbled, gripping Zantetsuken tighter as he glanced around. He was good at staying calm but…this situation made him anything but calm…

“You’re telling me..Lupin usually isn’t this hard to find..or this quiet..” Jigen frowned, cracking a nearby door. “How the hell is this another storage room-?!” He hissed angrily. How the hell were they supposed to find him-?!

“Shh-!” Goemon’s hand quickly found its way over Jigen’s mouth. “Listen.” He looked at him as he frowned.

From down the hall they could hear the faint sound of rattling chains and something thudding against metal. Goemon took his hand off of Jigen’s mouth, glancing at him as he stepped toward the door silently. Jigen followed, holding his magnum tightly. Whatever this was…it was either Lupin doing something stupid or Lupin in a bad situation. Hopefully it was just him being a dumbass and they could all chew him out for it later…but somehow it seemed less and less plausible as they got closer to the sounds.

The two took position on either side of the door, Jigen’s hand on the doorknob as he looked at Goemon. Goemon nodded, holding up his hand as he began to silently count down from three. Whatever was on the other side had to be related to Lupin. They held their weapons tightly, Jigen throwing the door open once Goemon’s countdown ended. They both quickly ran into the room, Jigen’s Magnum raised and Goemon ready to unleash Zantetsuken and-

They stopped, eyes wide. Jigen nearly dropped his Magnum and Goemon faltered. The sight before them…this..was this actually Lupin? This was a joke right? A dummy put by Lupin for the doctor to find at an inconvenient time..? But dummies didn’t breathe, especially not the fast, shallow breathing of someone in severe pain. No, this was actually-

“Lupin-“ Jigen quickly made his way to his side, crouching beside him. Shit…

“What did he do to him..?” Goemon breathed, standing anxiously behind Jigen. This was all wrong..

Lupin sat against the wall, his wrists shackled and his legs bound. He was littered with fresh wounds and his body..his left eye was gone..and his left arm and both of his legs…and it was all replaced with metal. Burns littered the skin around the metal implants, the areas around the implants and wounds looked angry and painful, definitely infected. His body trembled, despite how much he was sweating, rattling the chains and causing his head to knock against the wall from time to time. That explained the banging.. He was stripped down to his boxers, his body looked dirty and worn down. He seemed…smaller..than normal. It made them both sick to their stomachs to see Lupin in that state. He just looked..wrong.

“Son of a bitch..” Jigen frowned, his hands raised but unsure of where to touch. “We need to get him out of this..” he began looking for locks on the shackles.

Goemon frowned, his face tense as he quickly cut through the cuffs and the binds around his legs. They needed to get Lupin out of here. Whatever ideas this doctor had were all sorts of twisted and disturbing. He should’ve come sooner to get them out of this..

“Okay, boss.” Jigen took a breath, gently trying to maneuver Lupin to get him off of the ground. He could’ve thought of a way out, he should’ve known Lupin wasn’t well off if he didn’t come for them…

Lupin jerked, gasping out raggedly as he began to weakly push away from Jigen and struggle. He was nowhere near conscious, but he knew being grabbed meant another new pain somewhere and something not feeling…right. Between the increased sensitivity of his cybernetics fused with his nervous system and the infected wounds across his body, everything was too much. He needed to get away, he had to get the hell out of here and get everyone to safety-

“Lupin-! Shit, Lupin, it’s us!” Jigen tried to steady him, grunting when Lupin managed to elbow him in the face to try to get him off.

“Lupin, it’s us! Let us help you!” Goemon tried, grabbing his other side as carefully as one could manage with a struggling, semi-conscious thief.

Lupin whined, struggling more fiercely. Smaller parts of his cybernetics began to break off of his arms and legs in the struggle, causing him to cry out. He had to get away- the others needed him! Something was wrong! He needed out! Escape-! Escape, escape, escape!

“JI-gEN-!! Go-GOEMON! Ple-EASE!” Lupin began to scream out hoarsely, jerking and twisting against the hands grabbing him. He needed out, he had to get out! He screamed louder, tearing up as he thrashed and hollered desperately. “FUJI- PLEASE! PL-PLEASE!”

Jigen froze, his grip slackening as his eyes widened. Goemon quickly let go of Lupin, his eyes frantically going to Jigen. They had never, ever, heard Lupin this desperate or pleading. They had never seen him so earnestly panicked, near tears. Lupin was a lot of things, but he was never this terrified in all the years they had know him…

“Lupin..” Jigen carefully took his hand in his own, his grip light. “It’s us. We’re right here, Lupin.”

“We will not let any more harm come to you.” Goemon frowned, gently trying to support Lupin with a hand on his back.

Lupin trembled, gasping and panting as his hands fumbled. He looked toward them, his eyes unfocused as tears streamed from his right eye. Was it really them? Or was this a hallucination brought on from pain? Could he handle it if it was a hallucination…? If he was hallucinating at this point it wasn’t good…

“Easy, Lupin. We’ll get you out of this, alright?” Jigen spoke softly, squeezing his hand faintly. He was going to kill that bastard doctor..

Goemon nodded, his thumb stroking against Lupin’s back softly. “Breathe. Everything will be alright. We are here now.”

Lupin whined softly, slumping toward them as he struggled to grasp more consciousness. “Jig’n…Go’mn…” he slurred, his body losing strength from the fight he had tried to put up. He hoped it was actually them…this being a hallucination would suck…

“That’s right. It’s us. Just take it easy and we’ll get out of here just fine..” Jigen carefully repositioned Lupin, holding him bridal style as he tried to stand. “Shit- he got heavy-!” He hissed, struggling a bit to stand.

“It must be all this metal..” Goemon frowned deeply, studying his replaced limbs. How could someone do this..?

“It is. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll put my project down and surrender yourselves now.” Dr. Mad snarled, holding his gun as he stood in the doorway.

“You-!” Jigen growled, holding Lupin closer as he stood behind Goemon. He couldn’t fire and hold onto Lupin, Goemon was their best bet.

“‘Project’?! How dare you!” Goemon glared angrily, his grip tightening on Zantetsuken. “Lupin is a person, not a machine or a specimen to be studied!”

Dr. Mad scoffed, smirking. “With a brain like his he could be the perfect super weapon! I’m merely improving the body! Once he is under my control fully, there will be nobody who could stop me! A genius thief with an indestructible body can get me anything I desire!”

Jigen scowled. This guy was disgusting… what the hell had Lupin gone through in his time here? How much had he suffered while they were just down the hallway? Was he even going to be able to recover from all of this? He glanced at Goemon, frowning more. They needed to get out of here and get rid of this bastard…

Goemon narrowed his eyes. “We failed Lupin before, but not again. You will never lay a hand on him again!” He unsheathed Zantetsuken, lunging at the doctor quickly

Dr. Mad fired at them, causing Jigen to duck out of the way behind a table with Lupin before he side stepped Goemon. “I’ve studied you too, samurai! You would all make perfect additions to my cyborg army!” He shouted angrily. “You can’t beat me!”

Jigen ducked as a bullet narrowed missed his hat, glancing at Lupin as the man flinched and trembled. He wasn’t doing good.. “Goemon!” They needed to hurry up and get the hell out of here…

Goemon glanced back at Jigen, his eyes flicking to Lupin before his clenched his teeth. Jaw set, he sliced across Dr. Mad quickly, sliding back in front of the table before clicking Zantetsuken’s sheath shut again.

Dr. Mad’s gun dropped to the ground in pieces. He laughed, looking at them as he smirked. “You-“ he hesitated, choking as his eyes became unfocused and blood began to pool at the front of his suit. “…missed-“ he gasped, stumbling forward before he fell onto the ground, blood spilling out around him.

Jigen frowned, stepping out from behind the table. “Good riddance…” he mumbled, stepping up beside Goemon. “Let’s get the fuck out of here..” he started toward the door.

“Mm..” Goemon grimaced at the body in disgust before looking back at the lab. He quickly grabbed some notebooks that were at a nearby desk and slipped them into his kimono before following Jigen. They would need all the information they could get..

The two made their way through the halls silently, only their footsteps were heard besides Lupin’s whining and shallow breathing. They’d have their work cut out for them in treating his wounds. Fujiko wouldn’t be pleased about this either, especially since they had definitely taken over five minutes..When they stepped outside, Fujiko glared at them from the getaway car.

“You assholes! What kept you so-“ she hesitated when she saw Lupin, her eyes widening. “…oh my god-“.

Jigen stepped up to the car, frowning. “We need to get to a hideout. Whichever is closest. We need to lay low for a while.”

Goemon opened the back door, getting in as he helped Jigen lay Lupin half across his lap and half across the backseat. “Preferably something well hidden.”

Fujiko bit her lip, taking a breath to steady herself as she nodded. “Alright…alright, I know a place.” She got into the car, starting it up quickly.

Jigen got in, glancing back to Lupin through the rear view mirror. He was obviously still in pain..and he looked like shit in light outside the dark lab. Pale and tired..dirty and wounded…he wasn’t used to seeing him that way..

Fujiko drove, keeping her eyes strictly on the road. She didn’t think she would be able to drive if she looked at Lupin too much… “what happened to him?”

“That doctor..” Jigen growled, grabbing a cigarette his pocket as he frowned. “Wanted to make him into some sort of cyborg to help him steal shit..”

Goemon frowned, running his fingers through Lupin’s hair to soothe him as he held him steady. He looked uncomfortable to begin with but the bumps in the road weren’t helping either..

Fujiko frowned, glancing at Jigen. She might not read Jigen as well as Lupin could..but she could tell whatever they had seen wasn’t something anywhere near good…she could at least assume that the doctor was dead and relax a bit about that..not that any of them would even be able to begin to relax any time soon. For now, they had to find a hideout that was secure enough for them to stay for a while while they sorted this out…

[aesop-and-fiends]

I’ve decided to use this partially as something to get something off my chest, because for some reason it won’t climb off. I really need some advice.

About a year or so ago, there was an incident involving a friend of mine and myself. I’ll call this person Garret. Garret and I were at a friend’s (calling them Jamie) 17th birthday party. We had been friends for a long time, since primary school, and had recently reconnected after time apart due to myself moving house and schools. So, it was myself, Garret and Jamie, roleplaying together like old times. It was good. For context, I had been roleplaying separately with Garret for several years prior, and we had come to get to know each-other’s characters rather well. However, I always felt an odd dependence in our relationship, which was validated one day when Garret randomly blocked Jamie and I in a discord server we shared. When I tried to contact Garret through their phone number, they confessed that they were in love with me and had been for a very long time. At the time, I was in a relationship that I had been in for 2 years prior to this message, with a person I am still very much in love with, so the message hit me as quite a shock. Nonetheless, I tried to be as understanding as I could. We talked, and Garret later revealed that some of the ways in which I described certain aspects of my character’s deeds were too graphic and made them deeply uncomfortable (I am a horror writer at heart). I understood this and apologised for upsetting them, we set boundaries and moved on. However, not without an air of confusion between us, and a degree of discomfort on my part. Over the next few months (for which Garret was in a relationship) Garret began discussing the idea of polyamory and platonic friendships with me. I should have told them to speak to their partner rather than asking me, but I was 16 and very naive. Back to the birthday party. It was myself, Garret and Jamie in their caravan, drinking, being silly and roleplaying. This is a good time to mention that Jamie unfortunately was pushed to the side in a lot of our role plays due to the fact Garret and I role played separately and tended to have lengthier answers than that which Jamie liked to write. For the first couple hours, things were going really well. However, after involving a plot in which my character died on the shoulder of Garret’s character and was miraculously revived, I realised I was no longer comfortable and tried to remove myself from the situation discreetly by checking my phone, so as to not make either Jamie or Garret uncomfortable. It was Jamie’s 17th after all. My partner was anxious about me being so far away, so I was texting them. Meanwhile, Garret was eager to get back to a plot, which I understood, but tried to reaffirm to them that they had their own partner so they should understand why I was texting mine (not in those specific terms, but rather more a nudge). I do not believe Garret is a bad person, however they did not ask for my consent for what is to follow. The next scene they wanted to do involved their character turning into a dog and whimpering in pain, and required me to scratch their hair. (Important to note here that Garret LOVED touching my hair and would often be quite touchy with me in public, which seemed innocent enough until their confession). They did not ask for my consent in any of these occasions, as far as I remember. This was a year ago, but I remember these instances being quite sudden. This scene involving Garret the dog made me extremely uncomfortable, to the point where I couldn’t move. However, I said nothing. I didn’t want to upset Jamie and ruin the night for Garret, so I played along. The next morning, Garret joked about how in the night I had apparently cuddled up to them in my sleep. Considering everything, I went into a trauma response (I am an SA survivor and was SA’d in my sleep as a child so the mentioning of this was VERY triggering for me.) I discussed my discomforts with Jamie after Garret had been picked up (I have been friends with Jamie since I was 2, whereas I had been friends with Garret since I was 12), and Jamie urged me to discuss things with them. I did.

It was a normal conversation, and I asked if we could not do that again because it made me uncomfortable. I have since deleted all the screenshots unfortunately, all I have is my word, however I would say this went well. After telling my partner about what happened, they were furious and wanted to meet Garret, so I added them to a server under the guise of us roleplaying all four of us (myself, Jamie, Garret, and my partner who I’ll call Lucian). The server was silent. Then, when I asked if anyone wanted to roleplay, after many ‘college is hard and I’m busy’ comments, the flood gates opened and Jamie and Garret went into a full war. There had always been conflict between the two, and I admit, there were some things that Garret raised against Jamie that I had to agree with, but in the end I chose Jamie over Garret as my friend, because they have been for me through thick and thin. I also later discovered that Garret had been being odd towards his at the time partner who i’ll call Bea. They broke up, as per Garret’s request. After this, I lost my shit. All that pain and confusion and anger came spilling out in a very ugly way. Garret blocked me again on discord, so I texted their number to ask what was happening, to which they blocked me again (a year ago, can’t remember exactly, but I suspect this is the case). I then found them on Tumblr. They blocked me before I could have my say in the argument, and I was furious. So, we argued, and they later blocked me, after blaming me for their suicidal thoughts and intent to hurt themselves (I am also a suicide survivor). This was the end of it for a while. I still don’t understand how it escalated from us sorting the problem to resolving it. A year later, I saw Garret in a hot chocolate shop in the city near where I used to live. They entered after me, and upon seeing me, immediately left. I sent them a message (on my new tumblr account) to apologise for making them uncomfortable and that I was now out of the shop if they wanted to go and get one. They then called me a variety of horrible names, blamed me for all of their trauma, and compared me to Mr. Hyde from Jekyll and Hyde. They also said I was cruel even as a child and that they were a fool for ever trusting me because myself and Jamie are just as bad as each-other and are both horrible people. I was shocked by this. I did not wish to be made into a punching bag, however I also did not want to escalate the situation. I appreciate the friendship we had, and while I understand it had to end, I do not believe I am an evil person. I tried to explain I would be in the city (which has quite a small city centre) A LOT over the next few weeks so they should be prepared to see me. I also told them that if it was triggering for them to see me, that I would be in a set of specific locations on specific days, and thus to avoid those locations if they did not want to see me. More horrible names, more comments about me being an abuser and a manipulator. I didn’t want to upset them, I just wanted to be helpful and prevent further upset. I understand perhaps I was the fool in that situation. After discussing this with Bea however, with whom I have found a strong friendship, apparently this was not out of character for Garret, and they often showed this behaviour in their relationship. I understand love is a hard thing to deal with, but I still don’t understand. I know I should have set boundaries, and regret not doing so, but I had never expected them to not ask for consent and brag about the unconscious returning of their affections, which I was deeply uncomfortable with, especially when they knew I was in a committed relationship.

I can’t help feeling as though I can’t now move on, and am weighed down significantly by this (this is not to say I deny that Garret went through a hard time, I believe they did). I understand I wasn’t perfect and could have dealt with things better and more logically but I was distraught and dealing with my hog of fair other things at the time. This is not to say I have not apologised for where I went wrong, I have. However they have yet to apologise for what they did. Am I wrong for wanting them to apologise? How do I move on from this?

[7-deadly-cats]

GIRL YOU BE WRITING WHOLE ASS CHAPTERS YOURSELF LMFAO 🤣🫶 (love you for that)

i think he was surprised as well about the fact he got to have lunch with her parents bc he genuinely just wanted to drop off her purse (and have a little chit chat with her) and that’s it and then her dad straight up looked after him and i guess rafe just loved the attention and the way he was cared for and ahcjsjd

LMAOO yes i def see barry and reader as a very cool duo with both being chill with each other. like they probably wouldn’t hang out alone just to chill bc i guess they are not that close but i believe whenever reader visits him with cara, they just chit chat or let cara ramble about stuff and i just liked the idea that he feels protective over her bc idk guess he values her kindness and the way she’s not fake or such, so he just decided yep adopting that little alley cat. and LMAO maybe if i find the time i could come up with an extra 🤣

um, yeah, making their car convo long af and extremely unnerving was absolutely and definitely intentional to mirror rafe’s pov and the way she drives him to the brink of insanity and definitely NOT bc i’m horrible at keeping things short and bc i got lost in their little discussion hahahah 😅😅😅 👍👍

and i def had a hard time deciding whether i should write the convo from rafe’s pov or reader’s but i felt like rafe’s was more interesting. and i was also really unsure about what i wanted rafe to admit or confess but i guess for one he wanted to test if she may actually want a hookup too and two he was so frustrated with her the truth just spilled out 🤣

YESS him coming to the conclusion that he wants to have her around even after the project is prob my fav part of this scene (and him joking about making her a friendship bracelet lmao)

i def understand. i, for example, flirt with my male friends bc it’s fun but it def can get confusing sometimes 🤣💀 it can feel a lot like mixed signals and i guess that’s how it was for poor reader. and also, rafe is such a complicated person i don’t think he knows WHAT he wants either. plus he’s only got two options on his mind: short-time fun in form of hookups or (now) a friendship. this stupid boy doesn’t even consider a romantic relationship (yet)

AND THATS THE FUNNIEST PART OF THEIR WHOLE DYNAMIC LIKE HE DOESNT FUCKING GET THAT SHE'S HEAD OVER HEELS FOR HIM LIKE MY BOY. like HE thinks she's all nervous and anxious and always deflecting his flirt attempts bc she feels uncomfortable around him or doesn't like him. which is also sad af bc he subconsciously thinks a girl would never like him for who he is AHHHHH THIS BOY

about rafe and kie: this series in general is based a lot around canon stuff or takes inspo from it just with my own twist and i kinda picked up on the kie and rafe tension they have going on in the show (i know it's not explicitly stated what went on with them) and MY personal headcanon is that bc kms!kie and sarah have been besties as children, kie hung around a lot at tannyhill so she also automatically interacted with rafe and guess kie was the first girl teen!rafe would joke around with and such, so she kinda felt like a third little sister, but they eventually fell apart (for reasons i've yet to explain) and yeah. but it was def platonic (mainly bc i'm not a fan of riara oops)

ANYWAY HERE I AM WRITING A LONG-ASS REPLY TO YOUR LONG-ASS REBLOG WHEW

thx for always putting sm effort in your comments and thoughts and thx for sticking around <3

killing me softly | 16

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language & themes, rafe ovulating, angsty and overthinking reader, some verbal tension, some very long-ass conversation starting in the second half, reader having some intense episode of spiraling and need for reassurance, rafe being very dramatic at the end aka him jumping to the craziest conclusion known to man aka he's actually going insane (monologue only), also rafe being possessive and if you look closely also some unresolved trauma of abandonment, some hints at past platonic kiara x rafe

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ waking up with a hangover, the first thing you saw when opening your phone was the drunk texts you’d sent to rafe after getting home last night. the two of you had exchanged blurry selfies, and rafe had made some very suggestive comments. cringing at yourself, you texted cara to meet up later. after your shower, you found rafe in the living room bc he wanted bring you your forgotten bag. his bruise getting looked at by your dad (rafe later claimed he told your dad the bruise was an accident with a golf club). your mom invited rafe for lunch and they seemed to like him. afterward, you and rafe are left alone with him suggesting to continue your project. you being too hungover declined. rafe decided to drag you outside so you could properly sober up. in his car, rafe gave you his phone to shut kelce's spamming up. however, opening the chat, an upper body pic of kelce greeted you. after replying to kelce in rafe's name, you got a little too curious scrolling through the chat and finding thirst trap of rafe (the boys seemingly update each other with their gym progress). rafe caught you staring but he shrugged it off with a cocky remark. you finally arrived at the health store rafe claimed had magical anti-hangover smoothies. and somewhere between the car ride and the smoothies, you started to get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, rafe actually liked you more than you originally thought.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 10.4k+ (reader's fault)

✿ A / N ✿ getting to add some barry action into KMS? don't mind if i do hihihii;; also literally so anxious about this part (i know i say this with every new chapter help) bc the second half took me a while to figure out or rather i had a hard time debating how i wanted their convo to go AND which pov i wanted it to be in and ngl i actually had to keep my own patience in check with reader 🤣 and well, i’m always scared some stuff might feel forced or rushed, especially bc i’m aiming for a natural development BUT ANYWAY, it is what it is and i hope you guys enjoy. as always, lmk what you think <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

"That looks like the stuff that came out of me this morning," you said with scrunched-up brows as you crouched in front of the smoothies' fridge at Bulk & Bloom (shit, yeah, that was the actual shitty-ass name, and no, Kelce was not a co-founder).

And somehow, seeing you in that position there beside him, lips slightly parted in a way that could be viewed suggestive in a different setting, Rafe had no fucking clue why, but the sight did something to him. Suddenly, there was an urgent need to think of wrinkly old grandmas and dead puppies.

Rafe let out a chuckle. "Which end?"

You blinked at him, deadpan. “Your sense of humor is horrible.”

Fucking hell. And now you were looking up at him with that bratty gaze. Rafe tried to think about literally anything other than how badly he wanted to—

Fuck, what.

"Shit, still better than expressing my feelings through some fucked-up images that look like they came straight out of a crackhead’s brain," he shot back with a crooked smile.

Because yeah, your weird-ass reaction pictures? Only Wheezie seemed to understand what the hell those pictures were supposed to mean, or how to use them (not that he'd shown them to anyone else anyway). And Rafe still questioned his own sanity for actually asking his little sister to explain them to him.

Not because he cared, of course. He just didn’t want you to think he was beneath you when it came to that crap.

You turned your gaze back to the line-up of smoothies. "Should be easy enough for you to understand, considering you and the crackhead share similar hobbies."

Oh, how badly Rafe wanted to shut you up and teach you some respect in a way that made his blood rush faster and adrenaline shoot higher.

He had skipped the fucking coke this morning on purpose, and he was still having these insane thoughts. Worsening by the minute.

"Real funny," he muttered.

You chuckled. "Who says I’m joking?"

Rafe scoffed. You were definitely doing this on purpose—acting all bratty, just to get a rise out of him. And he seriously questioned how the fuck you had the confidence to act like that when just earlier in his car, you’d been a stuttering, awkward mess after he'd caught you staring at his post-gym pic like you’d just pulled a legendary FIFA card.

“Feeling bold now, huh?” he said. “Funny, considering you were damn near drooling on my phone a few minutes ago.”

And the little side-eye you threw him? Brows furrowed, lips pressed together? Rafe drank that shit up like ice-cold water.

He raised his eyebrows in anticipation as you looked at him. Yeah, how were you gonna talk your way out of that one? With another I-I didn’t mean to, sorry, I just—

"I'm not ashamed to admit that Kelce has a nice build."

what.

Rafe didn’t even feel his smile drop or his brows furrow because the sudden rush of anger hit so fast, it short-circuited everything else.

Like, what the fuck.

Obviously, he hadn’t been talking about fucking Kelce. It had been his pic. Him your nosy little ass had been staring at.

Shit. No fucking way.

Had he been right to suspect something during that project session at Kelce’s? Did you actually have a thing for that fucker? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Couldn’t fucking understand how—

You little shit.

The second that sly smile crept onto your lips, the tension in Rafe’s jaw eased.

Shit, how badly he wanted to shut your mouth. And you still crouching next to him only fueled the flashing images in his head.

"Hilarious," Rafe muttered with a scowl, gesturing toward the fridge. "Now have you finally picked one? They all taste the fucking same anyway."

And you had the audacity to chuckle in response.

God, you were eating away at Rafe’s last nerve, which somehow just worsened the pressure building in his chest. And the crazy part? It was the kind of pressure he usually only got rid of when he was knee-deep in some random girl.

And that thought triggered more images. Of you. Sounds you’d make. The way you’d get all flustered and—

Fuck this shit.

No way he needed to get off that badly that you ended up being the one his brain fixated on.

It was just pent-up tension. Yeah, that was it. Just because he hadn’t gotten the chance to take care of it last night—thanks to fucking Topper crashing in the guest room with him—and you just happened to be the nearest girl around for his brain to throw into those kinds of scenarios.

It’s fine, he told himself. Gonna take care of that shit later at home.

"Well, you claimed one of them helps with hangovers," you said, eyeing him with an amused smile. "How am I supposed to know which one to pick when they're called..." You leaned forward (Rafe took that as a green light to check out your ass) and squinted at the name tags on the dumbass smoothies. "Maxx Mass Mango, Triceps Tropic Thunder, or," you let out an embarrassed laugh, "The Triple Load."

Rafe let out a low chuckle because the way you'd said it—so innocent, so awkward—was fucking priceless. You getting flustered over anything even remotely suggestive? Stupidly hilarious.

"I think one load will be enough for you today," he said with a lopsided grin, relishing the way you immediately looked away with a frown, all awkward again. Then he reached into the fridge for the Thirst Aid bottle and held it out to you. "Now let’s get the fuck out of here before the first wave of lunchtime joggers comes crashing in."

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“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Rafe unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed his wallet from the center console, and reached for a backpack in the back seat.

Okay. Three funny things: One, he had clearly lied to you earlier at home because this definitely meant he was about to do something sketchy. Two, you still hadn’t recovered from those ridiculously named smoothies. And three… guess where you were?

Barry’s pawn shop.

Like yeah, you'd kinda figured he and Rafe knew each other with Rafe selling fucking coke to his classmates. And sure, Barry probably wasn’t the only plug in the Cut but still, funny coincidence that it was him.

Aka the same guy Cara got her weed from.

Aka the guy she lowkey tried setting you up with since you'd first met him.

Barry was chill and cool, and okay, objectively speaking, he had a pretty face if you ignored the tangled hair and commitment-issues beard. And yeah, okay, you did like him, but in a completely platonic way.

More like two bros. Except for that one very steamy dream you'd had about him once that we’re never, ever talking about again from this point on.

Okayyyyy, hahaha, moving on.

But since you were already here, you kinda wanted to say hi.

"The fuck are you doing?" Rafe snapped as he saw you unbuckle your seatbelt just as he was about to get out of the car.

You eyed him dryly. "Getting out?"

"No. I told you to wait here." Oh, this dude was DEFINITELY picking up drugs with that sudden change in tone.

"Yeah, I have ears," you said with a scoff, slinging your bag over your shoulder and reaching for the car's door.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. "I’m fucking serious. Stay here."

You chuckled at how ridiculous he sounded, your gaze flicking to the backpack on his lap. "Why? Because you’re about to do some sketchy shit in there?"

"Because I don’t need some girl clinging to my ass everywhere I go," he snapped.

Braincells = 0.

You blinked. "Correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you the one asking me to come along?"

He looked so dumb with his lips pressed tight, brows drawn, and hugging his backpack like a pissed-off schoolboy running out of patience.

Eyeing you with an irritated smile, he said, “You don’t actually think—”

“Okay, no,” you cut him off, body shifting back toward him. “Which part of what I've said offended you now?”

Rafe’s brows twitched. His brain was probably running a marathon trying to figure out why he was actually pissed off.

“I don’t have the fucking patience to argue right now,” he muttered, voice strained. “Just fucking stay here. I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?”

Considering his usual reactions, that was almost a polite reassurance.

“Well, maybe I’ve got business in there too,” you said, brows raised.

Oh, this idiot found that hilarious. His face lit up like a kid watching a clown trip over its own shoes. “Yeah, nah, I doubt that.”

You held his gaze without saying a word. He didn’t want a discussion? Fine. Let him stew in the awkward silence and realize how dumb he was acting.

National Geographic should honestly study this dude because the silent treatment riled him up more than anything else, and you were this close to snapping a photo of his dumb little expression.

He ran a hand over his face and nodded dramatically. “Fine, then come along, for fuck’s sake. Don’t piss me off. But don’t start whining if some crackhead in there gives you a dirty look.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. He sounded mad, but: “So you were trying to keep me away from shady people. How heroic."

“If it helps the voices in your head,” he muttered, the most dramatic scowl painted across his face. “Now get your ass moving, don't wanna get stabbed out here.”

“I’ll be damned,” Barry said with a lazy grin as you and Rafe stepped into the little shop. “Country Club and Little Alley Cat showing up together? What is it—my birthday?”

You chuckled, heart skipping a beat for… WHATEVER REASON. OKAY, MOVING ON.

The shop was completely empty, aside from grumpy Larna who sat in the back room behind a desk, glancing up with a death glare before going back to whatever she was doing.

Fucking dumbass Rafe just blinked, flabbergasted and visibly disoriented. Apparently, he hadn’t expected you to know his plug, and for some reason, that made the whole thing feel like home turf.

“You two fucking know each other?” he asked, face scrunched like he’d just bitten into a lemon.

Barry chuckled, leaning on the counter. “You can bet your spoiled little ass on it.” Then he turned to you with a smirk. “And I see Little Kitty has finally gotten herself a guard dog.” He nodded toward Rafe. “Hoping you got him checked for rabies with that temper of his.”

Why did everyone just assume you and Rafe had something going on? You two weren’t exactly radiating happy couple energy. Then again, Rafe wasn’t known for having female friends (which you also weren't), so... yeah.

Rafe tilted his head toward you, ignoring Barry completely. “How the fuck do you know this fucker?”

You had to bite your lip not to smirk at the way he immediately got so worked up.

“Easy, pretty boy,” Barry cut in before you could even respond, clearly amused. “You better be nice to that lady or I’ll beat your rich ass.” He tapped his own cheek. “That bruise of yours? Don’t wanna end up with a matching one on the other side.”

OH. MY. GOD.

The butterflies in your stomach that usually went berserk for Rafe? Yeah, a few of them were dancing for Barry now. Because Dealer Barry stepping up for you in front of Dumbass Rafe? That was… kinda sweet, not gonna lie.

Rafe furrowed his brows, clutching the strap of his backpack like a schoolboy on his first day, about to throw a tantrum because he didn’t wanna go.

He squinted at you. “So what—you're secretly a fucking crackhead now, or what am I supposed to take from this?”

Seriously. Did this guy ever think before he spoke? Like, he literally dealt coke and snorted it himself, but you’re the crazy one?

At this point, you should question your own sanity for even crushing on this guy.

But the funny part wasn’t how hypocritical he was being, no, it was the fact that he chose to go after you instead of Barry despite him basically threatening Rafe. And there was no way Rafe would let a chance pass to put another guy in his place.

Which made the whole thing even more entertaining because, for once, he clearly didn’t have the upper hand. Usually, he carried this presence, this aura, that screamed “look at me wrong and I’ll beat your ass.”

But here? He seemed small.

Like a hyena baring its teeth at a lion.

Rafe Cameron, proud Kook and official Pogue-hater, actually keeping his mouth shut in front of little pawn shop owner Barry? Fucking hilarious.

“No. Sometimes I'm just tagging along when Cara's picking up her weed,” you said amused, watching the gears in Rafe’s brain grind themselves into dust.

“Miss Fancy Boots actually dropped by earlier,” Barry said. “Had her little mutt with her too.” He made a cupping motion in front of his chest, smiling all big. “Top barely holding on for dear life. Wouldn’t even tell me which backwood shack she was visiting.”

Oh, she was really trying to bag JJ Maybank this time. Best of luck, bestie.

You chuckled, but Rafe beat you to a response with a scowl, stepping forward and dropping his backpack on the counter. “Okay, fuck this. I’m not here to fucking chit-chat.”

Barry gave him a look, something sharp flashing in his eyes, but then he just laughed and peeked into the backpack. “Keep running that mouth and I’ll tell Lil’ Alley Cat who was whining on my couch just a few days ago.” He pushed the backpack back toward Rafe and nodded to the right. “Now move your ass to Larna. She's gonna take care of the rest.”

Rafe smiled bitterly, shaking his head. “Nah, that's not what—”

“I’m in a good mood today, Country Club,” Barry cut in, tapping the counter. “Don’t make me introduce you to the girl hiding under here.”

And somehow… you really didn’t think he was joking and you hoped Rafe knew how to behave.

Thankfully, he did.

With a scoff, he grabbed the backpack, threw you an unreadable look, and disappeared into the backroom where grumpy Larna was waiting.

"So, you and Country Club, huh?" Barry stepped around the counter, leaning against it with a lazy smile on his face. "Didn’t think you’d fall for a Kook prince."

After seeing his idiot side, I hadn’t thought so either.

You smiled sheepishly and adjusted the strap of your bag. “He’s not—I mean, there’s nothing going on between us.”

Barry let out an amused chuckle. “Was already wondering how he managed to get you to stick around, ‘cause that stupid boy?” He pointed his thumb toward the backroom. “Nothing but daddy issues and anger problems. Ain’t worth one look from an Alley Cat.”

Shit, that stupid nickname? Only Barry could make it sound right.

“Yeah, he’s an idiot,” you said with a soft smile, sounding like a widow reminiscing about her dead husband. “But he’s actually kinda fun to be around once you figure out how to deal with him.”

Were you seriously defending Rafe’s stupidity right now?

Barry raised his brows, eyes lighting up with the biggest grin. “Cat’s all smiley and dreamy over a boy. Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

“What? No, I just—” Heat crept up your neck and you shook your head with an embarrassed smile. “We were paired for a school project. That’s how I got to know him better.”

“Ain't seeing you doing school work right now,” Barry replied, his grin widening. “Must be serious if he’s letting you tag along to this stuff here.”

I actually annoyed him so much he just gave in.

You shook your head again, feeling like you were digging your grave deeper with every word. “No, I’m serious. This is just—”

“I’m just messing with you, Lil Kitty Cat. No need to puff your tail,” Barry said, raising his hands with a lazy chuckle. “But you should watch out. Wouldn’t call that fancy-looking boy my friend, but I know his type well enough to say—if he’s keeping you around, there’s a reason.” His tone shifted ever so slightly. “Don’t want my Alley Cat getting bitten by some spoiled hound dog.”

You eyed Barry quietly for a moment. Him warning you about Rafe stirred something strange in your gut, and part of you knew better than to ignore it.

But right now, you were too scared to question it, so all you did was offer a soft smile. “He’s more of a wired Doberman anyway. Big attitude, but pull the leash once and he gets all dramatic.”

To your surprise, Barry didn’t laugh. “A dog’s a dog. They bite if you’re not careful. And for a sweet kitty like you? That shit can turn bad real fast.” He nodded toward the backroom. “And Dobermans? You don’t wanna pull their leash too hard. Loyal and shit until they start thinking they own you. Then it ain’t cute no more. Had an uncle—couldn’t be around people without his mutt flipping out. Damn thing almost took my hand off once."

Your brows furrowed in irritation. It had been funny when Cara had joked about Rafe being possessive and jealous and all, but hearing Barry say it like a genuine warning... yeah, that hit differently.

And suddenly, Rafe’s weird behavior since yesterday started making sense.

Him getting mad when Topper asked you to come along. Him nearly beating the crap out of Rob for no reason. Him now suddenly wanting to spend time with you, being all flirty and suggestive and—oh god, please no.

Maybe this wasn’t about him liking you. Maybe he just hated the idea of someone else playing with a toy he’d throw away the moment he got bored, found another, or worse, shredded it to pieces. And until then, he'd bark at anyone reaching out for it.

The smoothie you'd drank earlier threatened to come back up. You didn’t want to be someone's toy.

“Aww, no. Didn’t mean to wipe that smile off your face, Kitty Cat,” Barry said, his lazy smile returning. “I’m just saying—be careful around a boy like that. Though, I trust you’ll know when to pull your claws out.” He knocked on the counter and chuckled. “Otherwise, just say the word, and I’ll introduce his fancy ass to my girl.”

Barry probably meant well, but your brain had already soaked up his words like a sponge, throwing them into a spiral, dragging them into the most anxious corners of your mind.

Still, you managed a smile. “No worries, Barry. I don’t think he even—”

You didn’t dare finish that sentence as Rafe came out of the backroom, a deep scowl on his face. He didn’t even look at you as he passed between you and Barry, only muttering, “Let’s go.”

“Nah, nah, nah, Country Club,” Barry said, raising his brows and pushing off the counter with a grin. “We ain’t done yet.”

Rafe stopped, turning back with a glare that practically screamed he was done with everyone. He towered over Barry, but somehow still looked small. “I got your shit. What fucking else do you wanna piss me off with?”

Barry ignored him, smiling softly at you. “Was nice seeing you again, Alley Cat. Don’t go running off too far.” He nodded toward the door. “Now get those little paws outta here, I still got some business with this boy.”

An uneasy feeling spread in your stomach, but you knew better than to argue, so you just smiled with a nod. “Yeah, see you around, Barry,” you said, trying to ignore Rafe’s burning stare on you.

You passed him quietly, trying to suppress the sudden thoughts threatening to tear open a pit you thought you’d buried not even a few days ago.

And while you’d entered Barry’s little pawn shop with a smile and warmth in your chest, you left it now with uncertainty in your eyes and a deep heavy feeling in your gut.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Okay, what the fuck is going on between you and Barry?” Rafe asked after the two of you had gotten back into the car.

And the reason for that question? Such a funny fucking story. And it started with you even knowing this fucker in the first place. You two apparently getting along—and oh, fun fact—apparently getting along really well, because guess what? Barry hadn’t kept Rafe in the shop to talk business. Oh no, he hadn’t just talked.

He had fucking threatened him.

Said stupid shit like he’d show Rafe how people in the Cut handled things when no one was looking if Rafe didn’t behave. If he dared to hurt or play with you or whatever fucking else Barry had preached like some back-alley saint.

Rafe couldn’t even wrap his head around what that fucking Pogue thought he was doing. Like if Rafe actually wanted to, he could send every cop in town straight to Barry’s crusty little pawn shop and have him write his bullshit threats on the damn cell wall.

Fuck. Like seriously, what the hell was that shit?!

You just shook your head, a weird smile on your lips that didn’t even come close to your eyes. “What? Nothing. Like I said, he’s Cara’s dealer. That’s how I got to know him.”

And now you had the audacity to lie straight to Rafe’s face in his car? Nah.

“He literally threatened to blow my brains out if I looked at you the wrong way,” Rafe said, tapping his temple with a confused laugh. “Like—what kind of crazy-ass psycho bullshit is that? And that weird-ass nickname? No way in hell he isn't your fucking boyfriend or some shit.”

The idea that you belonged to someone—Barry, of all people? That messed with Rafe’s head in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain. It filled him with such rage and confusion, he was so close to grabbing that damn backpack on the backseat, taking out a bundle of coke that stupid grandma had handed him, and snorting a line right off his Mercedes' hood.

But he was so thrown off by your sudden change of demeanor, your whole vibe completely off since Rafe had come back from the shop—strange, distant, almost... bitter—that he decided he'd rather demand some fucking answers.

And when you just smiled weakly instead of snapping back like usual, pushing his buttons, he knew something was up.

“No, that’s just how he is,” you said while buckling your seatbelt, the weird tone in your voice not sounding like you at all. “He only means well.”

Rafe blinked at you, his chest tightening as your eyes finally met his, but something was missing.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” he asked, his voice sharper than he meant it to be.

Your brows twitched, and there was a flicker in your gaze he couldn’t place. Again, that strange smile that didn’t fit your face. “What? Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head slightly.

Just nothing. Normally you’d say some shit like, ‘Why are you getting all worked up, I don’t owe you any explanation, blah blah’—but this? It confused Rafe. And it pissed him off that he couldn’t figure it out.

“Barry said some shit to you?” Rafe raised his brows.

That was the only logical explanation. You went in all cocky and smiley, and now you looked like someone had shot a puppy in front of you.

You shook your head again, and Rafe felt a sharp stab of disappointment from how empty you sounded. “No, I’m just tired. Guess the lack of sleep’s finally catching up,” you said with a soft smile.

Rafe clenched his jaw, fingers tapping against the console. He was this close to snapping, but he didn’t want to yell. You’d probably shut down completely. Wheezie did the same thing when Dad started raising his voice and Rafe hated witnessing that.

“Okay, something’s clearly bothering you,” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. “You’re always on about how important it is to talk shit out, and now you’re the one being all weird.”

Seriously, why did your behavior even bother him in the first place? Normally when some chick was trynna act sulky he’d drop her off at her place or kick her out immediately because he didn’t care about that shit.

But with you, he somehow couldn’t and that irritated the fuck out of him. Probably because I deserve some fucking answers.

“There’s nothing to solve because there’s no issue,” you finally said softly, clearly bullshitting.

Rafe clenched his jaw, running through every possible reason why you were suddenly acting like this. “Fuck that. There’s obviously an issue.” He tapped his chest with his fingers. “Did I say something that got the minions in your head running again? Shit, I was just pissed earlier because—”

“No, really. Everything's—”

“Fine? Don’t bullshit me. You were all bold and mouthy earlier and now?” Rafe furrowed his brows, trying to understand what the fuck was going on in your head. “Now you’re acting all wilted and melancholic like Topper after some chick rejects him.”

That got a chuckle out of you, and Rafe felt his features soften.

“I’m not acting wilted,” you said, a little amusement finally slipping back into your voice.

Rafe nodded. “You are. I’m guessing Barry ran his stupid mouth while I was gone.” He narrowed his eyes, another thought hitting him. “Or did that fucker creep on you?”

“What? Oh my god, no,” you replied, shaking your head, puzzled. “No, it’s just…” You held his gaze like you were the one with questions. After a second, you looked down at your fidgeting hands, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I guess you’re right. I’m probably just creating a problem in my head that doesn’t even exist.”

Rafe frowned. “What the fuck did he say?”

You looked up, pretty eyes somehow carrying that sad little shine again, and Rafe had to fight the sudden urge to storm back into Barry’s shitty shop and drag the guy’s face across the counter.

“I...He didn’t exactly say it… I mean, I’d already been wondering...,” you started, clearly struggling to continue.

Rafe was so fucking close to losing it. He shook his head and gestured to his chest again. “What, huh? Me dealing coke? Is that what suddenly has you all scared? Shit, I’m not some criminal like Barry, okay? I just—”

"No, that's not it", you cut in, voice lacking your usual attitude. "I mean, sure, it's—"

"Holy fucking shit, just spit it out." Rafe couldn't bear you dancing around the answer any longer. Aggressively he gestured toward the pawn shop. "If Barry didn't fucking harass you then I seriously can't fucking imagine what's got you acting like this."

You pressed your lips together, eyes wide, brows raised like some deer about to get shot. "I don't know how to phrase it without it sounding like I'm ... delusional or crazy."

Rafe scoffed amused, both hands gesturing toward you. "Shit, you are crazy. Now fucking spit it out or I'm driving the car into the next fucking tree."

"Okay," you replied with a laugh, the smile quickly fading as your gaze drifted to the fidgeting fingers in your lap. "Okay, I just—" You seemed to take a deep breath in. "What's your business with me?"

Rafe blinked. “What?”

“I…” You pressed your lips together, clutching your bag tighter. “I’m not saying there is any business," you said, a nervous chuckle escaping. "I’m just… confused. I mean, I know we’ve had this conversation before. I know it’s stupid, I’m just…”

You furrowed your brows, meeting his eyes again. “You need to understand, I’m not trying to piss you off. I mean, you're probably right. It’s just my brain spiraling over nothing again. It's just… shit, I know this here is completely casual, I mean we aren't even friends, I just..."

You let out a strained breath, voice unsteady. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. I really don’t wanna come across like I’m assuming something’s going on in the first place. I mean, you already think I’m crazy,” you said, a distant smile tugging at your lips. “But obviously it’s totally fine if you’re only looking for a chance at some temporary fun. It’s just… in the hypothetical case you actually do expect something to happen...”

Another awkward laugh slipped out, and you sank into your seat, brows furrowed as you smiled nervously, “God, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry, I probably sound—”

“Holy fucking shit, you need to chill the fuck out,” Rafe cut in, staring at you like you’d lost your damn mind. Because this? How much fucking longer did you wanna go on?

This was absolutely insane. The way your brain made up all this shit. How the fuck did you even function at all?

He pointed to his temples, eyes wide. “Seriously, this is not just borderline crazy. This is straight-up insane. I mean I am going insane just by listening to this."

“Well yeah, that’s actually what I was trying to say,” you muttered, hands fiddling in your lap. “I just don't understand why you'd wanna hang out with me if I'm getting on your nerves—unless there's some other motive.”

Jesus Christ. Rafe didn’t know anyone with this level of anxiety and overthinking. Not even Wheezie came close.

But that wasn’t what really pissed him off.

Sure, if you were a little nuts, fine. It was even kind of amusing, honestly. At least you had the brains to think about shit.

No, what really pissed him off was that you were questioning him, even after he’d already told you the answer to this topic in school just a few days ago. He'd just tried to help you by suggesting to work at Tannyhill for the next project session but you fucking declined because you'd thought he was just trying to hook up with you.

Okay, yeah, maybe at this point the idea of sleeping with you wasn't exactly unwelcome—though with your nerves, you'd both probably have a mental breakdown halfway through—but it wasn’t about that.

It was about the fucking principle.

You were acting like his word meant nothing. Like he was just some lying, sleazy, piece-of-shit Pogue.

Rafe clenched his jaw, using every ounce of self-control not to snap. “There's no fucking other motive. You make it sound like I'm plotting some crazy-ass shit.”

Your brows twitched, lips pressing together. Somehow, you still didn’t look satisfied.

For a moment, you just stared at him, hesitation flickering in your eyes, but then your voice came out soft, so soft it made Rafe's chest tighten in a way he didn’t like. “I’m not trying to be annoying or—”

“You are,” Rafe interrupted, surprised by the lack of bite in his tone. His face twisted and he raised his shoulders, gesturing at his chest. “Like, I don’t fucking get why you’re questioning me when I already told you—”

“I know.” You nodded, frustration leaking into your voice. “I know and I really appreciate it, but I just… it’s my brain, okay?” You tapped your finger against your temple. “It talks shit and I start believing it and I just can’t stop it. And then I get anxious—especially when someone gives it something to chew on—and it’s just so frustrating because I'm definitely not trying to piss you off, I don’t wanna ruin—I mean, I’m just asking for some reassurance, that’s all.”

Your brows knit together. “But then again, I don’t want some fake reassurance either if you actually—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I like hanging out with you, okay?” Rafe pressed his lips together as the words left his mouth, not even sure why the fuck he’d said them. Why he even cared enough to listen to all this bullshit. But right now, all he wanted was to shut you the fuck up, so he didn’t bother filtering.

“I’m not trying to get in your pants, alright?” he added, wearing an irritated, almost amused smile. “I’d have to be fucking desperate to put up with all your messed-up crazy shit just for the chance to hook up with you. That's... fuck, I’m not that needy.”

He gestured to you, frustration seeping through his voice. “You piss me off, but I can deal with it. Shit, I think I even like it. You’re not some boring-ass gossip bitch like Ruthie.” He furrowed his brows, refusing to unpack what the hell that meant, now tapping his chest with his fingertips, voice strained. “But what I can’t fucking stand is not being taken seriously.”

Judging by your face, he hadn’t just shut your brain off, he’d completely nuked it. Your eyes were wide, lips pressed tight, and even your fidgeting had stopped.

He half expected you to start crying for whatever reason, but thank fuck you didn’t. You just frowned, that softness still in your expression. “I do take you seriously. That’s why I'm so confused. All these… I don’t know, suggestive comments and stuff. You say you don’t mean anything by it, but then you’re all teasing the next second. It’s confusing.”

Seriously, had you ever even interacted with a boy before Rafe?

He let out a frustrated smile, nodding. “Shit, yeah, ever heard of fucking flirting? That’s the thing people do because it’s fun. It doesn’t fucking have to lead to anything.” Rafe raised his brows. “Unless you want it to.”

And there it was again—that shift in you. Your whole vibe changed, whenever he said shit like this. And he couldn’t fucking tell if you were flustered, uncomfortable, or just weirded out.

You shook your head, a nervous laugh bubbling up like he’d asked you to strip in the backseat. “Of course, I know what flirting is. It’s just—In my head, this feels like… I don’t know mixed signals or whatever and—“

“Okay, fuck. Stop.” Rafe had hit his limit. He ran a hand over his face, voice tight with frustration. “I’m only saying this once, so fucking listen, alright?” He gestured to you again. “I fuck with you. You’re somehow fun to be around, even though you’re literally the least chill person I know.”

His brows twitched, a moment of hesitation flickering across his face, but he pushed through. He wasn’t gonna overthink—he wasn’t you. “And shit, yeah, of course, I’m flirting with you. You’re a cute chick. If you said the word, I’d be down to bend you over in the backseat right now, but why the fuck would I waste my energy on someone who’s clearly not into casual shit.”

Fuck. Now that he’d said it, he felt just as stunned as you looked.

Saying these words out loud ... it angered him. He'd basically just given in to you. But the thing that actually riled him up? The fact he'd just acknowledged out loud that he knew you weren't interested in him. That he couldn't get you into bed with some charm and a little flirting. That you were out of reach.

And fuck, this just made hanging out with you all the more confusing because why the fuck did he enjoy this shit if he was well aware that he wouldn't take you home later for some quick fun.

But worse than all of that was the way he found himself waiting.

Desperate for your response. Hoping you’d push back. Hoping you’d say something—anything—to let him know he'd just interpreted your signals wrong, that, yes, you did indeed find him attractive, that you actually enjoyed his presence, his flirts, and teasing. That you'd love to be his new friends-with-benefits-chick.

Jesus fucking Christ, he should go back inside Barry’s store and beat the shit out of that fucker for whatever the fuck he'd said to you that made you spiral this hard, and now Rafe was out here saying and thinking shit like this.

"Okay, now I'm even more confused," you said, smiling awkwardly. "You say you like spending time with me but at the same time, you also feel like you're wasting your time here."

Rafe was so close to smashing his head against the steering wheel. He raised his hands in exasperation. "And you say you're not trying to piss me off but right now I'm so close to losing my shit."

He aggressively tapped his finger on the middle console. "I just tried telling you that I'm not here because I'm looking for a chance at a fucking hookup, okay? Seriously, how much clearer do I need to be?"

“Okay. Just to clarify, for my own sanity,” you started slowly, voice soaked in nervous energy (Rafe was literally one second away from having a fucking stroke). “You like hanging out with me but according to your logic, you're not someone who's wasting his time with a girl if you're not gaining something from it."

With a pained expression, Rafe closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and nodded with a distressed "Uh-huh".

Maybe if he just continued agreeing with you, then you'd finally shut up, because clearly snapping back only seemed to continue dragging on this horrible limbo of yours.

Some strained chuckle escaped your lips. "And considering you're still asking me to chill with you even though you seem to be aware that I don't wanna be someone's pastime, does that mean… I mean, is what you're hoping to gain from spending time with me… a friendship?"

Rafe's head snapped up.

That was your fucking conclusion to all of this?

Fucking hell. Did he look like someone in need of more clingy idiots crowding his life? Topper and Kelce were already enough and he didn’t even receive anything in return for dealing with their bullshit.

And having a female friend without getting to bend her over once in a while? He'd never even considered it. The only girls Rafe had ever privately hung out with were the ones he'd benefit from.

And all of them either got so fucking annoying, he'd dropped them, or worse—they'd wanted more. Dates, gifts, PDA. A label. The title of Rafe Cameron's girlfriend.

They all wanted the benefits that came of being with him but none of them had actually wanted him.

But you? Well, he had to admit you were different. You didn’t do hookups. You didn’t chase him because of his last name and the benefits that came with it.

And the crazy part? That just fucking pissed him off more.

Because for some fucked-up reason he'd actually learned to tolerate your presence enough that he could deal with your crazy-ass brain outside of the project despite him not receiving some fun time in return. And now you assumed he wanted this to actually result in some permanent shit.

But for whatever reason, the idea that this might be over after handing in your project next week? That actually stirred something weird in his chest.

Right now, Rafe could still claim the project was the reason for you two spending time together (if you ignored the fact you weren't doing school shit at the moment). Sure, he’d admitted he liked you—but everything about the way you two had been hanging out this past week could still be chalked up to the assignment. But once that was over… then what?

Fuck, all of this was giving him a headache. And now you were pressuring him to define whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you.

Rafe shook his head in irritation. "Why do you even need a fucking label for some casual hangout? Can't we just fucking chill?"

You gestured to your chest, a distressed smile on your face. "Yeah, of course. I just… my brain needs to make sense of this somehow, so I can place this in either ‘okay, this ends when the project’s over’ or ‘alright, get ready to make space for this person, they’re gonna stick around.’ It’s fucking stupid, I know, but it helps me adjust to new people."

This right here was the biggest fucking test of patience in Rafe's entire life and he was so fucking sick of you demanding him to clarify shit when you were the one that made him question his sanity.

"Shit, I don't fucking know, alright?" Rafe raised his shoulders with an irritated smile. "I mean what the fuck do you want? You’re calling me confusing, but I don’t even fucking know if you actually like me or if you’re just tagging along because you’re too scared to decline because of some people-pleasing bullshit or whatever.”

Like he'd admitted all this fucking shit just now, but why didn't you? Why didn't you offer him some reassurance?

Your gaze softened, and that only irritated him more.

“I'm actually very capable of saying 'No',” you replied.

“Yeah, the fuck do I know.” Rafe threw his hands up. And then, a disgusting thought crossed his mind. “Or are you just tagging along because you're hoping for some attention of being seen with me?”

Finally, your frown returned—thank god. That little bit of fire he was used to.

“What? No!” You shook your head, clearly confused. “Aside from the fact that I couldn’t care less about shit like that, I’d rather jump off a cliff than draw unnecessary attention to myself.” Your expression softened again, lips quirking into a crooked smile. “I came along because I wanted to. Not because I’m trying to get some pics snapped of me being seen with an A-List celebrity.”

Just say it, Rafe thought, not even caring about your stupid comment. You were so fucking close to saying it. Tiptoeing on the edge of it. So damn close to saying what he needed to hear.

But you didn’t. And it pissed him off. Fucked with his head. Just—

Fuck all of that.

Maybe it sounded pathetic, maybe it was, but he didn’t care. He had to know. “So you actually do like hanging out with me?”

A soft laugh left your lips and your brows knit slightly. “Yes? I’m not spending my time with people I can’t stand.”

And just like that, something in Rafe finally let go. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. It felt like a win—even though he hadn’t actually won anything. Actually, he’d probably lost some fucking braincells discussing that shit.

He sank back into his seat, staring through the windshield, running a hand through his hair, no fucking energy left after this marathon of a discussion.

He tilted his head toward you with furrowed brows, motioning between the two of you. “So where’s the fucking problem, huh? We both like hanging out and neither of us is hiding some secret agenda or some shit.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Except you literally said—”

“Yeah, I know what I fucking said,” Rafe cut in, already regretting having voiced that he'd be down to bend you over. But whatever. It was out there now, so who the fuck cared.

“I’m not some horny perv who's unable to be in a room with a chick without trying to get in her pants,” he added, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna pass up on a little flirting and teasing.”

You raised your brows slightly, chin tilting downward. "So—"

"YES, for fuck’s sake!" Rafe raised his hands, shifting up in his seat, absolutely at the end of his rope. "If that helps to end this fucking stupid discussion, then yes please, go ahead and tell your crazy-ass brain it can open a new fucking folder titled ‘I made Rafe Cameron lose his fucking mind to the point where I force-befriended him’. And put some big-ass lock on it because that shit stays closed from now on."

He let out a strained breath, an exasperated smile twitching on his lips. "There. Does this shut you up or do I need to craft you a fucking friendship bracelet with my name on it?”

The worst part: The image of you wearing his name around your wrist sparked fucking JOY in his fucking chest for some fucked-up reason.

SEE. YOU'RE MAKING HIM GO THIS FUCKING CRAZY, HE WAS GETTING EXCITED ABOUT STUPID FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS.

You just stared at him, lips parted slightly like your brain was still spiraling over the obvious. Rafe almost thought he’d have to go back into the pawn shop and ask Barry to blow his fucking brains out, but you simply shook your head, a gentle smile forming.

“I don’t think that’s necessary", you replied with a soft smile.

Rafe eyed you impatiently, waiting for you to go on and spiral into another damn monologue about how you had to figure out the right color for this mental folder, and which fucking font would best match the content—because god forbid you’d use some bullshit like Papyrus or—WHAT THE FUCK DID HE KNOW, JESUS CHRIST YOU MADE HIM THINK ABOUT THIS FUCKING BULLSHIT.

To top it all off, you had the audacity to stay quiet and Rafe could physically feel his nerves blow up. “That’s it?”

No fucking way that actually resolved this fucking discussion.

You eyed him amused like he’d just hallucinated this whole fuckass conversation. “Well, yeah.”

Rafe’s brows dropped to a scowl. “You're fucking kidding me, right?”

“No.” A small laugh left you, and that familiar glimmer was back in your eyes. “I just needed some clarity to calm my nerves. That’s just how my brain works. I’m okay as long as things make sense. But the second a thought enters my mind that could mess with that—even if it’s ridiculous—it sticks. And then it ruins the whole logic. And until the thought can be ruled out, it stays, and my head chews it up until it gets worse.”

That's it. You were officially the reason Rafe considered therapy just so someone could tell him why the fuck he even put up with your shit.

Like, seriously, Rafe had some fucked-up shit going on in his head, but you? Holy shit, if he had to deal with the crap your brain pulled every day, he’d fucking lose it.

Your head sounded like a fucking prison.

Rafe let out a distressed breath. "Now, care to tell me, what was the actual fucking reason for you spiraling this hard in the first place?" He gestured toward the pawn shop. "And don't fucking think about lying. Either you tell me or I'm gonna go back inside and beat the answer out of that fucker."

He wouldn’t, though. Barry might’ve looked like a little bum, but Rafe had seen it enough times—his threats didn’t usually stay just threats. And sure, Rafe might’ve had the upper hand physically, but Barry didn’t do fights.

He'd pull out a gun and even Rafe's fists had no chance against that.

You pressed your lips together, hesitating for a second. “He just told me to be careful around you. It wasn’t even really what he said, it was more the way he said it.” You shook your head, puzzled. “And I guess my brain just filled in the worst-case scenario because… well…” A flicker of uncertainty in your pretty eyes. “I mean, not to sound like a dick, but it’s just a fact that you don’t really hang out with girls. And when you do it’s like... you know.”

Yeah, that was true. Rafe didn’t deny it. But still, why the fuck did you have this fucking player image of him?

Sure, he did hookups once in a while—every few weeks maybe at some random party. And yeah, he’d had friends with benefits, but like four or five times at most in his whole damn life. But the way you made it sound? Like he was out here fucking someone new every night.

“So instead of just asking me straight up what’s going on, you’d rather fucking… what? Sulk and act weird as hell? What kind of childish reaction is that?” Rafe asked, face twisting in frustration.

You let out a short laugh. “I didn’t wanna piss you off by bringing this up. Which, clearly, I did.”

“Well, yeah, because I practically had to beat the answer out of you,” Rafe said with a scowl, motioning to his chest. “What actually pisses me off is when people won’t just say what the fuck they're trying to say.”

You nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, makes sense. I’m sorry for making this so messy.” A soft chuckle slipped out. “I guess we both value clear answers… just on different scales.”

Yeah, except Rafe didn’t have a mental breakdown when he didn’t get one.

“I just don’t fucking understand why you can’t just ignore these fucking thoughts,” he said, oddly calm for some reason. "When some shit starts bothering me, I just fucking ignore it. If I need to make a decision, I just do it. If some asshole pisses me off? I put him in his fucking place.”

He scoffed. “And your brain sounds like one big asshole. You just gotta show it who's boss.”

Surprisingly, you laughed—soft, genuine—and Rafe blinked, confused.

“What?” he asked. “I’m serious. It’s absolutely insane that your own mind is your worst enemy. That’s fucking fucked-up.”

He gestured to himself. “I mean that dude pisses me off so badly, I wanna smash his face into a wall just to get him to shut the fuck up. How the fuck do you let him pull this shit on you?”

“That’s—” You laughed again, and something weird flipped in Rafe’s stomach. “I appreciate the energy,” you said, “but honestly, I’m already good when people just have a little patience with me.”

Your expression grew distant. “When I bring stuff like this up, I’m not trying to be annoying. I’m just genuinely trying to find clarity in the chaos up here.” You tapped your temple, smiling gently again. “That’s why I really appreciate that you actually talked with me this time—even though I’m sure you wanted to smash my head through the window.”

He'd rather have your head pressed against some sheets to let go of this fucking pressure inside him but Rafe forced this thought down (see? easy).

So he just shook his head. “I did but I’d rather not have your dad on my ass because of that. That dude’s got some crazy aura.”

Another laugh slipped from your lips, and Rafe felt his features soften. “I guess. He served as a combat medic in the military, so I think some of that still lingers beneath the surface.”

Shit, that made sense. Rafe knew there was a reason that guy had given him the creeps the first time he'd looked at him. He seemed nice, sure—kind even—but deep down Rafe was certain that man could knock someone out cold with a single punch.

The weird thing was: Rafe actually felt less tense around him than around his own dad.

“Shit, another reason to keep my hands off you,” Rafe muttered with a low chuckle. “Don’t need Liam Neeson in Taken chasing me down.”

Another laugh. And damn, that made Rafe feel like some kind of winner.

“I doubt you have to worry", you said. "He actually seemed to like—”

Your phone started buzzing inside your bag.

"Cara," you said when you pulled it out with an apologetic smile. “I should take this.”

Rafe gave a reluctant nod, even though the sudden interruption annoyed the fuck out of him.

“What’s up?” you said, holding the phone to your ear. After a beat, you added, “I’m with Rafe.”

His head snapped up like he’d been struck by lightning.

That was... he couldn’t remember you ever saying his name out loud before. And now that he’d heard it—coming from your sweet voice—fuck.

It did something to him. A weird kind of something. Buzzing in his stomach, warmth blooming in his chest, and this deep, unfamiliar ache for something he couldn’t quite name.

“Really?” You laughed. “We’re actually close by—Yeah, at Barry’s—Girl, no—Yeah, I know he told me—Yeah, I know I was the one who asked you—Okay, yeah, sure—So I assume you're with—yep, thought so—Okay—Seriously?—Alright—Yeah, nah, let’s not.” You laughed again. “Okay—Yeah, see you in a bit.”

You hung up, your whole presence lighting back up.

“Sorry,” you said with a soft smile, slipping the phone back into your bag. “She’s at the beach nearby and asked me to join her. Or well... I kinda asked her earlier if we could hang out, so....”

Rafe felt a frown creeping in, disappointment taking over his entire body. You were about to fucking ditch him.

He raised his brows. “Now?”

You nodded, toying with your bag strap. “Well... yeah. She needs some backup.”

“What, her boots got stuck in the sand or some shit?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “No, she’s with some people and… well, she needs help with a boy.”

“Her?” Rafe scoffed, disbelieving. “She’s the most upfront and confrontational person I’ve ever met. What the fuck does she need help with?” He tilted his head. “And didn’t she have some thing going on with Topper?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you said, holding your hands up in amusement. “She’s super complicated when it comes to that stuff.”

Girls. Rafe didn’t fucking get them.

“So what, you want me to drop you off now?” He didn't even try to hide his disappointment.

Your smile faltered slightly. “Well, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Rafe clenched his jaw. You were actually going to leave him now—after he'd helped you get rid of your hangover, after he’d actually shown patience and calmed the voices in your head, after all his nerves were fried beyond repair.

You were scared he might play you? Nah, he was the one who felt toyed with right now.

But as much as Rafe wanted to call you out for it, snap at you for being all anxious and now daring to pull this shit, he just didn’t have it in him. No strength left. He really didn’t have the fucking energy or patience for another long-ass conversation with you monologuing about shit.

Sure, he could just decide to tag along, because when did Rafe ever ask for permission, but his gut told him that was a weird fucking move. He wasn't your fucking dog to accompany you everywhere.

Fuck, he didn't fucking know how to handle shit with a girl like you.

So he just nodded, buckled up, and started the engine. Letting out a tight breath as he pulled out of the parking lot, he asked, “Where to?”

You hesitated for a second. “Do you know where the western beach of the Cut is?”

Rafe scoffed and nearly stopped the car. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Of course, he knew where that fucking beach was. Sarah always went there after school to hang out with her stupid little Pogue friends.

So yeah, he could already guess exactly what kind of people Cara was hanging out with: those annoying-ass rats.

The thing that pissed him off the most wasn’t even you ditching him. It wasn’t driving you around like a damn chauffeur. It wasn’t even that you were trading him for a group of Pogue losers.

Nah. It was the fact that Sarah had once again managed to stick her nose into shit that didn’t fucking concern her. Because somehow this reeked of her meddling.

And the worst part? It felt like she was winning again. Like she’d won over their dad, like she'd won over Kie during her time at Kildare Academy by turning her against Rafe just for them to end up having some bitchy fallout shortly after.

Like she’d get to win you over too with some fake-ass bullshit.

And you, being prone to falling for shit like that with that brain of yours, would probably believe her too. Not because you were naive, nah, but because your head would probably soak Sarah's sweet words up, falling back into a spiral over Rafe's intention or some bullshit.

Fuck.

Rafe actually liked this weird acquaintanceship with you (THERE, THAT'S THE LABEL THAT FIT THIS SHIT). He didn’t need Sarah to ruin that—or worse—take you from him. Pull you into her little shitty-ass, feel-good Pogue bullshit friend group.

And the most fucked up thing? You weren’t even his. But the very thought of Sarah turning you against him anyway?

Nah. He wouldn't let that happen.

You said Rafe was hoping to gain some shitty-ass friendship from this? Fine. If that’s what it took for your brain to hold on to Rafe, he’d gladly be your fucking friend.

He’d throw every goddamn principle he had out the window before he let Sarah take something else from him before he even had a chance to claim it for himself.

Because for the first time in years, Rafe actually felt like he didn't wanna let go of a girl. Nah, he actually wanted to keep you around. Not as some warm body in his bed—it fucked with his head that you weren’t into hookups but he could accept that—but because somehow, you were the first girl who didn't hang on his ass to brag to her friends later about getting to ride his dick.

Shit, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were either a lesbian or just completely uninterested in sex altogether. Which only messed with his head even more, because if both of you were here willingly, what the fuck was the point if no one was gaining anything from it?

Like, why the fuck did Rafe feel this pull toward you? Not just sexually… more like—fuck, he didn’t even know. He also couldn't compare it to the short-lived whatever-thing he'd had with Kie either because he'd only ever seen her as some extension of Sarah that he tolerated. Thinking of her even remotely sexual had just felt fucking weird.

But you? Being around you came close to landing a hole-in-one during golfing, the feeling after being praised by his dad, the way his body buzzed after a line of coke. Which honestly made him wonder if the perfume you were wearing was laced with chemicals or some shit that messed with his head like that.

Fuck, this? Him thinking about this shit at all—that was your fucking fault.

Rafe just knew he liked having you around so there was no need to let you go.

For now.

So as much as he hated, despised, and loathed the idea of you ditching him for some beach party with dirty-ass Pogues and Princess Sarah, by now, he'd learned that if he kept his temper in check, his patience with you would pay off.

Shit, he'd even add a little bonus.

So, when you'd asked if he knew the way, he shot you a raised brow and a casual side-eye, and in the most unbothered tone he said, “Yeah, it’s just down the road. Assuming your friend's succeeding with that guy, I’m guessing you’re gonna need someone to pick you up later.”

And when your brows twitched and your eyes lit up, Rafe knew he was one step closer to keeping you around for real.

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[behindthewanderlust]

Hello! You popped up on my feed and I see you don't seem to have any requests yet, so I decided to try and help fill the requests void a little bit! ♡

Could I get some headcanons for the band with an s/o who loves affection, but rarely initiates it because they don't wanna bother anyone so sometimes they just kinda sit somewhere quietly for a while until the band members figure out the deal is? Thanks in advance!

Thank you SO much for sending in my first request. I’m still learning how to write these four, so I apologize if it isn’t the best.

This came out later than I wanted. Tumblr deleted the post and I had to rewrite some things T-T

But it’s here! I apologize for the wait

Hope you enjoy!!

Possible trigger warning for mentions of anxiety

————————————————————————

Russel Hobbs

As much as he loves affection, Russ enjoys having his personal space

You knew this, and were afraid that your affection may be making him feel uncomfortable or annoyed

You started to withdraw from Russ in an attempt to make him more comfortable in your relationship. You initiating kisses, hugs, cuddle sessions, etc., was far and few in between

He's not the most clingy guy so he wouldn't notice your behavior at first.

He just assumed that you were just like him!

As time went on, though, he began to pick up on something that was going on

Always a firm believer in communication, Russ would sit you down and ask you why you've been initiating less and less, if he's done anything to make you uncomfortable, and all that jazz.

Once he found out your reasoning, he hugged you tight

He told you that his misses your affection

And that just because he isn't one who wants to be touched 24/7, it doesn't mean he doesn't want your affection at all

Reassures you that although he does enjoy time to himself, it doesn't mean you're annoying or bugging him in anyway!

The two of you came up with a plan to communicate better so a situation like this wouldn't pop up again

He'd make sure to tell you if he wasn't up for contact so you'd be less worried about bothering him

You also promised to come to him if you felt this way, instead of withdrawing

When you two finished talking, he invited you to grab a bite to eat :)

2D

Probably the most clingy and affectionate out of all members

Bc of this, he'd pick up on what was going on quickly

May not know the exact reason for your withdrawal, but immediately notices you doing it

Confusion pops up first, followed by anxiety

He thought your relationship was going pretty well..?

He began to wonder if you weren't feeling well

Or if you weren't in the mood for physical touch

Or if you had been tired recently

Or if he did something to make you upset

Or if you didn't like holding him anymore

Or if you fell out of love with him

Or if-

Okay okay I'll stop but the point is, 2D does nothing but overthink the situation

He'd probably (unknowingly) start to initiate less and less himself!

Which would probably leave you confused

Now you're both confused and overthinking messes

You'd probably be the one who starts the conversation

Asking him why he's been looking so anxious and deep in thought recently

And then he just spills

Asking if he did something to make you upset

Why you've withdrawn from him

If you still even love him

And you immediately feel bad because you withdrew initiation because you didn't want to be a bother

And now he's upset!

It felt like a complete and total backfire on your end

You explained to him that you didn't want to bother him, so you started to initiate contact less

And he just looks at you like "WHAT???"

You already know how affectionate 2D is, so he's quick to knock those thoughts out your head

He just latches onto you and doesn't want to let go

He loves holding you

He loves when you hold him

He makes sure to repeat this over and over to you

He doesn't want you feeling like you're a bother

He needs you and your affection

Noodle

I hc her to be extremely observant

I feel like you have to be if you grew up the way she did

So l'd imagine she'd be the quickest out of all the members to catch on to what you were doing

And why you were doing it

She just didn't know how to bring it up without sounding confrontational

It was a conversation topic she did have to sit on for a few days

She did feel more and more lonely each day she didn't talk to you about what was going on

Noodle missed the hugs and cuddles :(

Don't get me wrong, she still gave you her love and affection, it just didn't feel right without you doing the same

She decided to talk to you during one of your movie nights

You had sat on the opposite side of the couch instead of sitting next to her like you usually do

So Noodle walked over to sit next to you

She told you she's noticed you initiating less contact

And that she assumes why you're doing it

And you confirm her assumptions - you don't want to be bother

Her face softened when she found out she was right

She felt awful knowing you were afraid of bothering her

The whole conversation was basically Noodle asking you questions

How long have you felt this way?

Was there anything I did or said to make you feel like you were a bother?

Why didn't you come to me about this earlier?

Bare with her, she hates seeing you feel this way

You answered all her questions thoroughly, apologizing for withdrawing

She asked for you to communicate with her more and come to her when you feel like this, which you agreed to

You asked her for some cuddles while you watched your movie and Noodle agreed, suddenly remembering that it was your movie night Imao

Murdoc Niccals

Murdoc isn’t the most affectionate guy

It just something he wasn’t used to

So you’re the one who initiated most of sfw contact

You learned that he didn’t like being affectionate in front of the band

So contact was mostly kept in his room or in the Winnebago

He found out he liked cuddling. He liked when you played with his hair

But he wouldn’t initiate it, that was on you

He would sometimes drop hints that he wanted to be hugged and you would pick up on it

He was finally comfortable enough to hold your hand

And he’d sometimes ask you to sit next to him while he played his bass

Since you mostly initiated, Murdoc noticed when you started to withdraw from him

Cue the internal panic

He hasn’t had many good things in life

Your relationship is probably his first serious one

And he’s afraid of fucking it all up

Not one to beat around the bush, he’s quick to confront you

He asks you not to leave him

And you’re like, “what makes you think I’m leaving??”

You’re told that you’ve been withdrawing a lot, so he assumed you were done with him

You tell Murdoc that you aren’t leaving, you just initiated less because you didn’t want to bother him

He has this “ohhhh” moment or realization

He appreciates you not wanting to make him uncomfortable

But he still misses you

He told you that he’s fine with being touched

And that he wouldn’t mind you doing it again

In fact, he wishes things would go back the they way they were

You picked up on the fact he was trying to say he missed your affection without directly saying it

You apologized for withdrawing and he accepted it, you only had good intentions

He told you that he’d try to be more affectionate

And you said you’d do the same

It did take some time for things to go back to the way they used to be though

You still had the lingering feeling that you were bothering him, despite knowing that wasn’t the case

And it took him some time to be more affectionate but he did put the work in

The two of you appreciated the effort the other was putting in

The day he asked you to cuddle with him is what made all the work worth it

It was like you both reached a new step in your relationship

It definitely took some time, but you both got there with enough determination <3

————————————————————————

That’s it for my first request! I hope it was good! Writing this was definitely a challenge, but it was a welcome one <3

Again, thanks for sending the request in!

[allthingsfangirl101]

The Only Cure–Steve Harrington

Wattpad request by Harringtonswife-

In the eighties, no one talks about their mental health. You're either healthy or insane. I tried talking to my parents about it but my dad doesn't believe in all that "mumbo jumbo". My mom told me it was all in my head and if I stayed there, she'd have to send me to a mental hospital.

The only person who responded in a positive and supportive way was my best friend, Steve Harrington. When I told Steve that I was struggling and wasn't able to fix it or get out of the dark hole I seem to continually throw myself into, he was the one who suggested that I might be struggling with depression. He then wrapped me in a hug and promised that he would always be there to pull me out.

Even though Steve was extremely supportive, I found myself a little hesitant to run to him. After I told him, he slowly started to change. He constantly checked on me, jumped to protect me before anything happened, and eagerly helped me with anything no matter how small.

Our friends didn't notice Steve's change. He always seemed crazily protective of me to them. They aren't wrong, but I've noticed his changes. At lunch, he started draping his arm across the back of my chair.

I was worried our friends would notice and, most importantly, notice how it made my whole face burn. All of that would disappear when I started getting anxious and Steve would move his arm from my chair to my shoulders. I don't know how he always knew when I needed his comfort, but he did. Without fail.

Today was no different. The day started with my alarm not going off and having to get ready in ten minutes. Then my mom's car wouldn't start so my dad had to drop me off at school before he went to work. It only got worse from there.

First period, I could barely stay awake. Second period, I had forgotten we had a math test and I definitely failed it. Then I got paired with the dumbest player on the basketball team for our history project and he was more focused on flirting with me than getting any work done. Now I was heading to lunch.

"Hey, you," Steve said the second I sat down. "You okay?"

"She got paired with Andy for the history project," Carol laughed.

"That sucks!" Tommy laughed.

"I bet he's going to flirt with you the whole time," Carol fake gagged. "Then again. . . He's pretty cute."

"She could do better," Tommy scoffed. "Right, Harrington?"

Steve reached under the table and grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "If he gives you any problems, tell me."

"Steve," I started but he cut me off.

"I mean it, Y/N. If he says anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or, I swear, if he touches you. . ."

"Dude, chill," Tommy laughed. "He hasn't even done anything yet. They just got assigned today. Wait until next week to kill him."

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to eating without letting go of my hand. He looked over, his eyebrows fluttering in confusion.

"Why aren't you eating?" He asked softly. "Aren't you hungry?"

"I am," I said, clearing my throat.

"Then why aren't you eating?" Steve pushed.

"I was running late this morning and didn't have time to make my lunch," I explained under my breath.

I looked up at him when he pushed his lunch between the two of us.

"What are you. . ."

"Eat," he said.

"But Steve. . ."

"If you think I'm letting my best friend starve, you're crazy," Steve laughed as he ate a grape.

"Skipping lunch is not going to make me starve," I giggled, hiding my blush. I looked away and cleared my throat when I saw Carol's knowing smirk.

"Oh," Steve said in the middle of Carol and Tommy's latest fight. "Dustin wants to know if you're coming to watch their D&D campaign tonight."

"I don't know why you guys spend so much time with those kids," Tommy scoffed. "They're a bunch of little. . ."

"Don't finish that sentence," Steve cut him off, his voice changing. I squeezed his hand that I was still holding under the table.

"So?" He asked as he turned toward me, his tone changing again. "You in?"

"Sure," I shrugged. "Although I'm a little surprised you want to go sit in the Wheeler's basement and watch them play D&D."

"To be honest, I'm not going to watch them play," Steve said, not looking at me.

"Then why are you going?" Carol asked, almost sounding like she knew the answer to that.

Steve looked up and glared at her. He then saw me watching him and softened his glare.

"I'm going to hang out with you," he said, his cheekbones slightly turning pink.

"We hang out all the time," I giggled, eating some of the cheese Steve packed.

"And he just can't get enough," Carol said sweetly.

I looked away when Tommy started to 'aw' but it turned into a gag. I started to let go of Steve's hand, but his hold on mine tightened.

"Do you hear yourself?" Tommy asked harshly. "You two are best friends. You blow us off all the time to be with her. How many times have you skipped a party because Y/N wasn't going to be there? Or she needed someone to help her study. Or that lame excuse you always use that you'd rather spend time with her."

"I would rather spend time with Y/N than with you," Steve said, his anger building.

"You're practically glued to her hip," Tommy scoffed. "I'm surprised she doesn't know that you. . ."

I stood up and quickly ran out of the cafeteria. Steve and Tommy have been fighting a lot more over the years. Each time they start, so does my panic attack. I ran to the bathroom, locking myself in a stall.

A few seconds later, I heard the door open. I held my breath, waiting for them to leave.

"Y/N?" Nancy's voice echoed through the bathroom. "I saw you run in here. You okay?"

When I didn't respond, she added, "Steve's looking for you. He seems really worried. There's no one else in here so I'm sending him in."

I heard soft footsteps walking toward the stall I was hiding in. I looked down and instantly recognized Steve's sneakers. I took a shaky breath when he knocked.

"Y/N," he whispered. "Please open the door."

With shaking hands, I opened it. I instantly wrapped my arms around myself, stepping away from the door.

"I'm sorry about running away," I stuttered under my breath. "You know how I get when you and Tommy start fighting. I hate that it always sends me into a panic attack, but I can't control it."

Steve grabbed my arms and pulled me into his chest. He sighed as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm sorry we started fighting in front of you," he whispered. "I just hate how they treat you. It infuriates me when Tommy makes our friendship seem like a joke. Next time, just punch me in the arm and I'll stop."

"I'm not going to hit you," I said with a small giggle. I tightened my arms around him as I added, "I could never hurt you."

                                * * * * *

Over the next couple of days, I struggled with my depression. I started having mini panic attacks every day. Steve caught most of them, and with each one he stopped, a worse one was hiding until he wasn't around.

I woke up today, stuck in my pit of depression. I spent the morning, not able to put a smile on my face. I hid my face behind my textbooks and notes. No one seemed to care. But then again, I don't see Steve until lunch. The class before lunch, I looked down and my hands started shaking. I was starting to have a panic attack and I couldn't stop it.

As soon as the bell rang, I jumped up and left the classroom. "Geez. Slow down, weirdo."

I looked up, my heart jumping into my throat when I saw Carol and Tommy standing in front of me.

"Off to your dear Stevie?" Carol cooed.

"We all are," I mumbled, tightening my arms around my books. "We're going to lunch."

"When are you going to admit that you're obsessively in love with him?" Tommy scoffed.

"What?" I stuttered. "I don't know. . . It's not. . ."

"Aww!" Carol giggled. "It's so cute that she pretends she doesn't know."

"Steve and Y/N, sitting in a tree," Tommy started singing. As they sang the rest of the song, they started dancing around me.

"What are you guys doing?" Steve asked as he ran over. He brushed past Tommy and grabbed my hand, slightly pulling me behind him.

"We weren't doing anything," Carol sighed, rolling her eyes.

"It didn't look like nothing," Steve scoffed. "It looked like you were. . ."

"Stop," I whispered. "Please, Steve. Stop."

"Y/N," he said, turning around to face me. I looked at his soft eyes and then at the knowing, judgy looks of his friends. I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled my hand out of his and turned on my heel.

"Wait!" Steve yelled but I didn't stop.

I didn't stop until I got to my car. I drove home and pulled into my usual spot. I turned off my car with shaking hands. I slowly got out, barely able to get my breathing under control. I froze when I turned and saw Steve jogging up the driveway.

"I told you I was fine."

"I know," he smiled at me. "But I also know the signs that you're stuck in one of your depression episodes. And if I don't act fast, you'll just go deeper into it."

"I don't know why you feel like you have to act," I said, looking down at my feet. Steve stepped toward me and gently lifted my head.

"Because you're my best friend," he whispered. "It's my job."

"Steve. . ."

"I know what I can do to cheer you up."

"Please don't," I sighed.

"Take the old records off the shelf," he started to sing. "I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself. Today's music ain't got the same soul. I like that old-time rock 'n' roll."

I giggled and playfully pushed him. He caught my arm and pulled me into my chest.

"So now are you going to tell me what Carol and Tommy said to you?"

"It's not a big deal. . ."

"Y/N," Steve said knowingly. "Talk to me."

"They were making jokes about me going to find you," I explained. Before he could ask why that would send me into an anxiety attack, I continued, "Then Tommy pointed something out that I realized he was right about."

"What did he point out?" Steve asked.

"That maybe. . . That there's a possibility that I. . . I doubt it's the same for you but. . ."

"Hey," he whispered. He gently wrapped his arms around my waist and smiled down at me. "What did Tommy point out?"

"He suggested," I said slowly, "that I might. . . have feelings for you."

Steve's breath got caught in his throat as he studied me. He loosened his arms, taking a small step back.

"Do you?" He asked under his breath.

"Maybe? I'm not sure, honestly. . . Would it be a bad thing?"

Steve smiled as he reached up and gently cupped my face in his hand. "I guess not," he whispered. "Especially because I might have feelings for you."

"You do?"

I held my breath as he slowly leaned in. He stopped when his nose pressed against mine. I felt lightheaded when his breath touched my face. He slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The lightheadedness got worse as our lips touched.

"Of course I do," he whispered, breaking the kiss. "Would it be a bad thing?"

"I guess not."

[nofoundboy]

Could you write a steve Harrington x ftm reader fluff? Where the reader comes out after Steve and them have gotten closer. Masc pronouns aswell please :)

I hope you like it 💖 I absolutely loved making this

"Hello" a slight smile is present on Steve's lips and those brown eyes that you like so much look at you with a sweetness that you don't think possible in anyone else.

The truth is that you would look more closely at this kind of details if it weren't for the fact that you are extremely nervous. Your hands are sweating and your mouth feels drier than any desert.

You invited Steve over to watch movies together alone. Not that you didn't like being with Robin, Dustin or Eddie, but sometimes you just wanted to be alone with Steve. Especially after realizing the kind of feelings you harbored for him.

You and Steve had kissed on only one occasion, once when things had gotten pretty honest in the woods.

And in spite of that, neither of you had tried to do anything else, you mainly because of the issue that had you terribly mortified and anxious that afternoon.

You knew how trustworthy Steve was, how attentive, pleasant and cute, but you didn't know how he would react to your news.

For quite some time you had noticed how uncomfortable it made you to be referred to by female pronouns, or how terrible you found it to be to be called by your full name. Socializing as what you weren't was killing you and you knew you had to tell someone. And Steve was that perfect someone.

As you prepared the popcorn, sodas and other snacks, you kept thinking about how it would affect the little thing you had together. Would Steve still like you if you confessed to him what you were? Would he still support you? Would he tell anyone? Even though you knew it was highly unlikely that Steve would treat you badly for it, it was still terrifying to think about telling someone after keeping it to yourself for so long.

"So...Friday the 13th?" Steve asked from the living room, holding up the tape. That snapped you out of your musings and you decided to return at last, with everything you needed on a tray.

Steve took the soda and helped you pour it while you put the snacks on the coffee table.

Your hands were shaking and you were very thankful that Steve didn't notice. One part of your brain urged you to get it over with, while the other insisted that it was better to be cautious and wait.

The movie went on without your mind giving you a break, so you decided it was time to rip the band-aid off the wound, or your mind would never shut up.

"Steve...I have to tell you something" you paused the movie and the brown-haired man's look changed immediately. Steve knew perfectly well that when a person said that, a serious conversation was always coming and he hoped with all his heart that it wasn't anything bad.

Also, the optimistic part of his being hoped it was about deciding to have an established relationship.

His eyes were wide open, attentive to whatever you had to say and in no mood to rush you or stop listening to you.

"I'm a guy" you blurt out, regretting the next minute that you didn't say it more tactfully.

You notice the way Steve's gaze freezes, confused by what just left your lips.

The delay in his response prompts you to explain yourself, as you place a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"I don't...I don't feel right like this, ok? I'm certain I'm a man, no matter what I look like. I know I am" the conviction in your voice lets Steve know that this is a similar situation to Robin's, only, given the town you live in, it's quite difficult to fully understand it.

Steve's mind spins, trying to comprehend what you just told him. It's strange to him cause he's never heard of such a case before, but of course, it's you and he can't imagine cutting you out of his life just because of his confusion. He loves you so much that he notices the way your eyes are searching for a way out.

You're thinking of all the negative possibilities of his reaction until he wraps you in his arms.

You cling to him trying not to cry with happiness.

"So...what's your name now, do you want to go get your hair cut? We can also go shopping, or I can give you some of my clothes" you know it won't be so easy for him to assimilate, but the way he takes the news, helping you almost instinctively, lets you know you made the right decision.

You kiss his cheek softly. He will always be there for you.

[thegroundsofbrooklyn]

thoughts on west endsies because now that i've been five times i feel like i should hop on this bandwagon

(below the cut)

- mark. mark's mike is so clearly extremely anxious and uncomfortable in large crowds a lot of the time. when he comes on behind specs after they raise the prices he's fidgeting with his necktie and he looks so small and. i live for this okay

- more on that. mike is the last newsie to leave the theatre after jack scabs and when he goes up to jack he looks so vulnerable. god i want to give him a hug

- race covers romeo's eyes during that's rich mocking the way davey covers les' and i love it

- damon's davey. i have so much to say about this. he's so different from ryan's davey in that his anxiety manifests itself as being EXTREMELY uptight and straightforward ?? and the way he gets more and more comfortable over the course of the show ... so normal about it fr

- the javey with damon's davey is MSDJSNF because damon's davey is that little bit more physical and up-close and it makes the javey like. 15x stronger

- ross saying "IT'S ABOUT TIME" when jack and katherine kiss during the finale

- jomike. platonically or otherwise it is so real in this production it is so canonical and i will die on this hill. last time i went mukeni fully picked mark up bridal-style while they were waiting for their papers. they're besties your honour

- speaking of. ralbert. this is an entirely different breed of ralbert and it's so perfect. they feel ?? older ??? more mature but not in the make-sensible-decisions way just in the make-stupid-decisions-despite-having-properly-thought-them-through-and-knowing-full-well-they're-stupid way

- ngl during seize the day they fully nearly dropped matt if morgan hadn't been standing behind him and caught him he would have gone splat

- speaking of. morgan's finch is a parrot crossbill sorry i don't make the rules

- i am headcanoning specs and albert as having evening jobs working at medda's theatre because they operate the lights during that's rich. it's canonical guys you heard it here first

- owen had a fake moustache for bill ... i do not enjoy that at all <- he is petty and does not like change (also the colours of bill and darcy's costumes are switched around from livesies and it is SO confusing. the suits are so gorgeous but please my poor brain can't handle the confusion)

anyways this was a long time coming i might add more next time i see it (like. two and a half weeks) (look forward to it)

[forever-emo-phase]

Mission Status: Sick!

Notes: Hello this is my first fic for Sanders Sides! It is inspired by @illogicallyinclined​‘s hockey AU! If you haven’t ever gotten into it, do it! However, you can still read even if you don’t know anything about the AU! Characters: Virgil, Logan

Ship: The whole thing is pretty much just analogical pining Warnings: Panic attack is described Genre: Just guys being dudes being gay. Fluff maybe? It’s not sad and that’s all I can tell you. Summary: Which is how Virgil arrived at his current situation, Logan tensely sitting at his desk in the middle of the night with shoulders so tight he looked like he was seconds away from shattering.

'It's a good thing that my homosexuality is stronger than my pride', Virgil thought as he opened a capri sun and violently squeezed it onto his sheets.

Check it out on Ao3 here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/33804841

Anxiety sucks. Virgil’s nails are always bitten down to the quick, hands never still, and the insides of his cheeks chewed and raw. If Virgil had to find a bright side, it would have to be his ability to read people. With just a look, Virgil could tell by the slump of his shoulders when Roman needed a little bit of extra praise. He would notice the redness around Patton’s eyes and know that he would need more company than normal. 

But the one person Virgil prided himself on seeing was Logan. It was almost second nature for him to sense the tension in Logan’s shoulders without even looking, he could almost feel it in the air. He could see when Logan needed to get out of his head and stop pushing himself before he broke. 

Dealing with Logan’s emotions, however, was slightly harder. If his approach was too physical, like he would approach Patton, Logan would withdraw. If he tried to take the same approach he would with Roman, showering compliments tempered with a light bit of teasing, Logan would get uncomfortable and retreat.

Which is how Virgil arrived at his current situation, Logan tensely sitting at his desk in the middle of the night with shoulders so tight he looked like he was seconds away from shattering.

'It's a good thing that my homosexuality is stronger than my pride', Virgil thought as he opened a capri sun and violently squeezed it onto his sheets. 

The thing with Logan is that he doesn’t care about himself. He will push himself to his limit and keep going, but, if someone else needs something? He will help as much as he can, even though sometimes it may not be overly obvious that he is helping.

“Hey Logan?” Virgil says from across the room, staring at his now soaked bedding. 

“Yes, Virgil?” Logan doesn’t look up from his computer as he sharply replies. For a moment Virgil wonders if this scheme was the best idea, it could fail horribly and Logan could be angry and refuse. But, the wheels were already in motion, his sheets were already wet, and there was no turning back.

“I fucked up.” He said plainly, watching as Logan’s head turned so fast to look at him that he was surprised that he didn’t hear a crack. Realizing how ominous his statement was, Virgil raised his hands and quickly spat out a placating “No it’s okay i’m fine!”

Logan let out a sigh before replying “What did you manage to do that was so dramatic that it required that statement, while I was sitting in the same room, only a handful of feet away from you?”

“Well…” Virgil started, choosing his words very carefully to make sure his plan could not fail. “I was panicking a little bit while I was drinking my Capri Sun and I squeezed it a little bit too hard. It spilled on my sheets and my bed is soaked now.” 

Logan’s eyes assessed Virgil, making him momentarily wonder if his lie was believable. Did his dishonesty show on his face? Was Logan about to get angry and yell at him? His hands began to shake slightly and his breathing picked up and, he thought wryly, at least now he wasn’t lying about being anxious. His fears were eased when he saw the slight softening of Logan’s face. 

“Oh Virgil,” Logan huffed out, his face morphing into an expression of fond exasperation, “You need to stop having drinks in your bed, especially ones of the extremely spillable and sugary type.”

Virgil shrugged, “It is what it is, you know?”

“It does not have to be the way that it is?” Logan said with a hint of confusion sneaking into his voice. “You can very easily change the circumstance.”

A small chuckle escaped from Virgil as he watched his roommate struggle to wrap his head around the statement. Logan was extremely smart, that was obvious, but watching him puzzle out modern slang and sayings struck Virgil as endearing every time. “It’s too late to change it now, you know?”

“You are correct.” Logan intoned and Virgil could already see some of the tension leaving Logan’s shoulders as he began to relax during the conversation. “Do you have a plan for drying your bedding before it is time for you to sleep?”

“Not at all.” Virgil said as he absentmindedly brought his hand to his mouth to bite his nails, but stopped as Logan let out a soft click of his tongue as a reprimand. As he lowered his hand, he absent-mindedly wondered if Logan was even aware that he had made the sound. Either way, Virgil found it incredibly sweet. “I’ll probably just sleep on the floor. My pillow is dry.”

Virgil made a show of picking up his pillow and feeling around for a dry blanket so that he could make a temporary bed on the floor, however, he was quickly interrupted.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Logan scolded lightly, “You can sleep in my bed. I will be up for a significant while longer doing work, it is no problem at all.”

Everything was falling into place for Virgil and he had to resist the urge to steeple his fingers together like a Bond villain. But his work was not finished, there was still one more task- Get Logan In The Bed.

“Dude no!” He exclaimed, “I’m not taking your bed! You’ve gotta sleep at some point!”

“Virgil,” Logan sighed, “I have a lot of work to do that I need to get done soon. I was actually planning to get up and pour myself some more coffee.”

Shit. If Logan got caffeine into his system, it was game over. His plan would fail and he would just be in Logan’s bed, and while that wouldn’t be the worst thing, it was not the plan. Panicking, he blurted out a quick “No!”

“No?” Logan said with a raised eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

‘Now or never’ Virgil thought to himself, before delivering the line that had inspired the whole plot.

“I wouldn’t feel okay with taking your bed, just in case you decided to sleep. Could we just share for the night?”

Logan looked puzzled, “I suppose, but I have already told you that I am not necessarily planning on sleeping tonight.”

“I know but.. I would feel bad.” Virgil said, his anxiety rising now that he was this far into the plan and there was truly no turning back. “Could you just… Would you just lay down for a minute? It would make me feel better.”

Judging by Logan’s expression, Virgil was convinced that he had lost Logan. His plan had failed and he felt a burn of shame in his chest, clenching his eyes shut. God he was so stupid! He should have just refused the offer to take Logan’s bed and slept on the floor! He should have not even tried this stupid plan! Virgil had not noticed his breathing picking up and his fingernails burying themselves into his palms as his thoughts spiraled into a pit of anxiety. He had not noticed until Logan’s voice washed over him.

“Virgil?” He said, somehow both softly and with authority. “Name five things you can see.” Virgil pried his eyes open, not really remembering when he had closed them. “Bed. Computer. Shoes. Water bottle. Posters.”

Logan nodded his head, with a small smile. “You are doing very well. Now four things you can touch.”

“Uhhh…” Virgil hesitated, eyes darting to Logan, “Sheets. Pants. My hair. Wet blanket.”

“Good job. Three things that you can hear now.” 

“Your voice. The air conditioner. Our obnoxious neighbors.” His breathing had started to slow and he could feel his body relaxing.

“Two things you can smell, you’re almost there.”

“Capri sun from my sheets and your disgusting coffee.”

“Last thing, one thing you can taste.” 

“Toothpaste.” With his breathing regulated and feeling calmer, Virgil smiled wryly back at Logan. “I’m sorry. That was… sudden.”

“You are perfectly fine. I have reassured you multiple times that I do not mind helping you.” Logan said soothingly. “Why don’t we go lay down? You are typically quite tired after these events.”

“Yeah… that sounds good.” Virgil said as he stood to move to Logan’s bed, straightening his sleep pants and he went. “Do… are you going to lay down too?”

Logan hummed, walking to his laptop to shut the lid, as well as flipping the main lights in the room off.  “Yes I suppose that I can for a moment. Just to assure you that I do not mind that you are in my bed.”

Virgil lifted the sheets of the bed and crawled under, scooting over so that he was next to the wall, leaving space for Logan to enter. “Alright. I promise I won’t keep you too long.”

“Well.” Logan said as he joined Virgil under the sheets, “I, in all honesty, could use the sleep.”

Virgil smiled at Logan with a soft “Good night then.”

“Good night Virgil.” Logan whispered, reaching up to turn off the light next to his bed, plunging them both into darkness.

The next time Virgil opened his eyes, the sun was shining through the window of the room and his head was resting on Logan’s shoulder. One of Logan’s strong arms was wrapped across Virgil and Virgil could hear Logan’s soft breathing against his ear.

Slowly reaching into his pocket so as to not disturb Logan, Virgil pulled out his cellphone, which was at 9%, and quickly snapped a picture before sending it to Remy with a simple caption.

“Mission accomplished.”

 (And that is the end! Feedback is very appreciated!)

[zemodaddy]

Hey so i finally completed the first chapter of the zemo x reader fanfic. Make sure to read the authors note at the end and i hope you enjoy.!

Synopsis:

Y/n is an ex-avenger who, after the blip was forced to work for the US government. You trained to be an assassin/spy and your gifts of wielding flames made you invaluable. When you were assigned to follow Bucky you find him helping Helmut Zemo escape from his prison cell. What is he up to? Should you stop him?

Warnings: violence, lots of swearing, angst, fluff and in later chapters extreme acts of hatred towards John Walker :)

Shades of Him

They replaced him. They replaced him with a random guy and stuck Steve’s shield on him. You were staring at the TV in disbelief. You thought of Steve like a brother and he definitely wouldn’t have wanted this.

After the blip you had no job, the avengers pretty much all separated and that left you without anything to do, and that meant no income and no income meant no home or food. You couldn’t exactly find a normal job because most people were afraid of you. A trained assassin and spy who could wield flames wasn’t really considered normal. That left you with no choice but to accept the deal the US government offered you. Do their dirty work and you wont end up homeless.

Your newest mission was to track Bucky to make sure he followed the rules set upon him for his pardon. You are close to him, like you were close to Steve. Hiding the fact that you were following him everywhere he went was kind of hard but you managed. You had to manage.

So finding him and Sam visiting a German prison kind of surprised you. Had this got to do with his therapy? Surely not. They left around an hour later and from then nothing more suspicious happened. A quick google search and a deep dive into some public records showed that a high security prisoner resided at this prison. Not just anyone. Zemo.

Interesting you thought. Later that night you followed Bucky and Sam to an old garage. You waited outside for 5 minutes before entering, trying to keep to the shadows of the room. The two men seemed to be in the midst of a heated discussion. “You want Zemo to help us?” Sam looks exasperated. Bucky looks a bit apprehensive as he says “Look let me walk you through a hypothetical, can I do that?” He begins to explain an elaborate escape plan for Zemo. Your mind was wizzing with thoughts as you tried to figure out your next move. He really isn’t in the right headspace, same old Bucky, you roll your eyes. “What are you guys doing?” You step out of the darkness. The two seemed to jump out of their skin, clearly not expecting you to be there.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Bucky asks. They both looked so shocked by your sudden appearance that you had to suppress a laugh. “I was following you.” He doesn’t look happy. “YOU WERE FOLLOWING ME?” He raises his voice. You weren’t scared because you knew he loved you really. Keeping the same tone as him you shout back “YES AND YOU’RE HELPING A CRIMINAL” “I SAID HYPOTHETICALLY DIDN’T I”. Sam looks like he could start laughing any moment. You weren’t even sure if you should laugh or arrest them. Suddenly your phone buzzes. “Then please explain to me why I just got a message saying that ZEMO HAS ESCAPED FROM PRISON?” Sam looks mad now. “You’re kidding me Bucky” he says. “Look we don’t have any other leads, we were at a dead end.”

You knew that the two were looking for information on the new super soldiers serum. “He blew up the UN, he killed king T’Chaka!” Before Bucky could reply to Sams argument, the sound of a door shutting sounds through the garage and guess who walks in. Helmut fucking Zemo. Your hand flies immediately to the dagger on the side of your thigh. “Woah woah woah” Sam starts walking towards him as Bucky tries to hold him back. Too bad he didn’t see you slip past them and push Zemo against the wall with said dagger against his throat. “Your going back to prison” you pass him a sickly sweet smile. He looked surprised by you holding him against that wall but didn’t fight back. Not with the blade in your hand starting to heat up against his skin. “y/n let him go” Bucky looks frustrated.

“He can lead us closer to the serum, just let him breath for a second” Zemo did start to look a little breathless. Good, he should be scared of you. Reluctantly you let him go. He starts to talk “if I may”. At the same time the three of you go “NO”. He looked a little displeased by the response but didn’t have any other option but to oblige. “Apologies”. After further debating and a lot of disagreements you and Sam finally agree to trust Zemo.. for the time being anyways. “Alright Zemo, where do we start”

You mentally set a reminder to always have an eye on Zemo, how could you not with a guy like him. He seemed to be sending you anxious glances in return, which to be fair you did nearly choke him to death. He leads you to a large warehouse containing numerous cars of different ages, sizes and colours. Probably stolen you think. After grabbing a case full with clothes for zemo you all head to an airstrip. In the middle of which was a private jet. You look at it in awe. “So you were rich all this time?” Sam asks. “I’m a baron Sam, my family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country”. Shit. Those cars weren’t stolen then..

The mention of his country makes you think back to that battle against ultron. You were very tempted to leave the avengers after nearly wiping out the entirety of a population of a country. But they convinced you to stay, where else could you have gone anyway? You think a little longer about the aftermath, when you helped after the battle with the injured, and loved ones finding their dead. It was one of the saddest moment of your life, until the blip. No one else helped from the avengers, they didn’t even visit the memorial..

“Y/n you coming?” Sam was saying from the top of the stairs. Lost in thought you were stood in front of the plane. Maybe I should stop getting distracted you thought. Entering the jet the seats on the right were already occupied by Sam and Bucky, leaving the only other seat opposite Zemo free. Great. As a gentle reminder you check your dagger on your thigh, almost like a warning that if he tries anything he’ll know what’s coming. Zemo swallows looking where it would be and ask his butler person for a drink. Was that his butler or the pilot? Rich people problems you thought. The plane sets off and you look out of the window daydreaming a little.

The other three talk lightly until the mention of Buckys list, which ends in zemo being choked yet again. You smile a little, enjoying the mini acts of revenge for the people he’s hurt and killed. You feel a bit sleepy but then they start to discuss where you were going. “Do we want to live in a world full of people like the red skull” Zemo shakes his head lightly “that’s why we’re going to Madripoor”. Confused, Bucky explains the place’s history in the Indonesian archipelago. “It’s kept its lawless ways but we cannot go in as our selves” Zemo says. Uh oh that can’t be good.

You were right. Zemo had handed you a bag full of clothes and a pair of heels. You stared at yourself in the full length mirror that resided in the toilets. “You have got to be kidding me” you say aloud. Your were wearing a dark purple silky dress that reached only just halfway down your thigh. It exposed most of your arms, shoulders and a lot of your chest. Thankfully there was a black leather jacket in the bag too, however on the shoulders sat a blanket of fur, similarly to Zemos coat that he took from the warehouse. Your heels were also purple. You thank the lord you took the time to train in heels too because you never know when the situation arises when you happen to find yourself in those monstrous shoes.

“This” you point at yourself “is not happening”. “Ah my baroness has arrived” Zemo says, amusement glinting in his eyes. You glared at the word ‘baroness’. “Here put this on darling, to finish it off”. He holds what seems to be a lipstick in his hand. You already knew what shade it was before taking it from him. “Do you have some thing for purple or is that just me?” Sam and Bucky both laughed.

You had to admit, the dress didn’t look bad, in fact it looked expensive. To say you were uncomfortable was an understatement, not necessarily for what you were wearing, but for the hand now draped around your waist. Zemos hand. He said that no matter what, you couldn’t break character. Bucky was playing the role as the winter soldier; you felt bad for him, the memories this must bring up. You can’t even begin to imagine. Sam however, wore an extravagant and abstract red suit that kind of looked like a dress. It was funny to see his reaction to which he comments that he looked like a “pimp”.

A car pulls up beside you and you all pile in. Of course you were sat next to zemo in the back. After around five minutes you arrive in lowtown. A place where you could apparently find a gall called Selby. That hand snaked back around you as you intermingle with the crowded streets. The high density of the crowd forced you even closer to Zemos side leaving practically no space between you now. You could feel his warm body against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down on you. His eyes seem to be softer now than they were before and he gives you a quick kiss on the temple as if to reassure you that you’re safe. You tried to keep yourself from shaking him off of you but as you carried on walking, you got used to him a bit more. Sam and Bucky followed the two of you, both with grim faces.

Finally, you come to a bar, most people around you watching carefully as you all enter. Zemo orders the both of you a shot and Sam gets his usual. This turned out to be something containing whatever the barman cutout of a snake. The sight of it made your stomach drop, and to your astonishment, Sam actually drank it. He looked like he wanted to be sick but, no matter what he had to stay in character. Bucky gave a slight nod, he didn’t get a drink, not as the winter soldier.

You had let it be known of who you wanted to see and as you waited a man came up behind Zemo and you. He immediately guided you away from this man so he was in front of you and Zemo in front of the man. He knew you could hold your own, you had made that clear already, but he wanted to protect you. For the act of course. “You ain’t welcome here” the man stated, placing a hand roughly on zemos shoulder as he turned to face him. “I have no business with the powerbroker, but if he insists he can either talk to me” Zemo points at Bucky. His hand then slipped to yours, holding it tightly. “Or bring Selby for a chat”. The man looks displeased and walks away. You had many things you wanted to say to Zemo at this moment, but sticking to your character was more important. As he continued to grip your hand, other men started to menacingly prowl towards you all. Zemo gave Bucky the order to attack and so he did. A fight quickly broke out between them all but Bucky was far too strong for them all. This ended in Bucky holding one of the guys that remained standing against the bar table. Finally someone called to say selby was ready to see your group. This was going to be interesting.

Notes

Okay i left this on a little bit of a cliffhanger but the next chapter should be out in a day or so. This is my first fanfic i have published so I’m interested to see what everyone thinks. If there’s any spelling or grammar mistakes then umm you didn’t see anything. I hope you enjoyed!

@killsandthrills @aisling1985 @booklover2929 @arianalilyblack @your-pixels-are-showing @kenna-1904

[sunshineseung]

Journal Part 4 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut mini-series ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.8k holy shit i am so sorry- 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!jeongin, plot 🤢🤮, smut within smut (mentions of marking, pet names/degrading names), anal toys (plug), jeongin wears feminine underwear, nipple clamps, mentions of rule breaking/punishment, begging, face sitting, praise, degradation, mentions (not use) of safe word, pegging, the obvious overuse of the word “mommy” and “ma’am”, aftercare, buttered pasta :)

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

The sound of his own foot tapping was enough to make him more anxious than he already was, and the light shining through the window directly onto his shiny desk to reflect on his eye wasn’t helping. He’s practiced the conversation a million times over in his head. The plan was simple: class ends, ask Professor Lee about his missing journal, and get it back. How hard could it be?

Evidentially, pretty damn hard. All throughout class, Professor Lee was staring at Jeongin, picking on him when no one else would answer easy questions, and overall making his life a living hell just by his presence. 

“Yang Jeongin, come see me.” Minho sighs, adjusting his glasses as he looks up at the clock on the wall of his classroom. “The rest of you are dismissed.” 

Ending class 15 minutes early was extraordinarily unusual for Professor Lee, but the other students hardly batted an eye as they collected their belongings and shuffled out of the room, leaving as Jeongin stepped up to his professor’s desk. He was practically sweating bullets at this point, all of his plans flowing out of his head with every step. The glare Professor Lee was giving Jeongin was intimidating to say the least, but Lee Minho knew all too well what he was going to say.

“You wanted to speak to me, sir?” Jeongin tilts his head, standing over his professor, giving the illusion that Jeongin had the upper hand in this situation. 

“Yes, Jeongin. You left your notebook behind last class, and I just wanted to give it back to you.” Professor Lee opens his top desk drawer, pulling out Jeongin’s journal and holding it out in his hand towards Jeongin. Before his student could grab it, he pulled away, reeling Jeongin in like a fish. “You really ought to be more careful with your stuff. Don’t want anyone else getting their hands on this, do we?” 

Jeongin shakes his head, holding his hand out, patiently waiting for his teacher to put the book into his hand. The room is coated in silence despite the chatter from the hall. Jeongin can feel his heart beating out of his chest, trying his best not to jump over the desk and snatch the journal out of his professor’s hands. 

“So, do you like writing?” The smirk stretching across Professor Lee’s smug face is breaking Jeongin. He feels this odd sense of deja vu on top of the overwhelming anxiety. Jeongin nods again, slightly shaking his outstretched hand, urging his professor to finally hand it over. “Is that what this journal is for? Writing?” 

“Professor Lee, can I please have my journal back? I have another class to get to, sir.” Jeongin dodges the question like a professional, but Professor Lee isn’t satisfied. He laughs in Jeongin’s face, rolling his eyes slightly at the boy’s wit.

“I ended class early. You have plenty of time to talk, Yang Jeongin.” Professor Lee stands up, walking to the other side of his desk and pulling out another chair from a student desk. “Sit down, take a load off. You’re one of my star students. I’d like to get to know you.” 

“Aright, professor.” Jeongin’s staring at the journal, loosely dangling from his professor’s hand. Still, he sits in the uncomfortable chair as the older man leans on his desk, facing the boy. Jeongin holds out his hand again, looking up at his professor with emotionless eyes, desperate to leave this room and go home, because him saying he has another class was a complete lie. Just for right now, Professor Lee wants to play a little game with Jeongin, a game the younger doesn’t even realize he’s playing.

“You don’t have to call me professor. Right now, you can call me Minho.” Jeongin nods, slouching in the chair. “You never answered my question, Jeongin. What do you write in this journal? Notes for class I’d assume.”

“Yeah, notes for class.” Jeongin’s voice cracks as he looks back at the journal, Minho now having one of his fingers between the pages. He winces just imagining what his professor would think if he read a single paragraph on any page. “I need them to study, so can I have it back now?” 

“Well, if it’s just notes, then you’re okay with me reading it, right?” Minho jolts his arm up, opening the book to a random page. Jeongin’s about to run out of the room in embarrassment before Minho holds a hand up, successfully stopping him. “C’mon, Jeongin. Do you honestly think I haven’t already read this?”

If Jeongin had anything in his stomach right now, he’d surely throw up. You reading the journal was one of his fantasies come to life, but this was a bit overkill. He’d never want anyone other than you to read his journal, let alone one of his professors.

“What’s got you so quiet now?” Minho raises the pitch of his voice to taunt Jeongin, playing up the scene. “You’ve had the audacity to write about Y/n in this book nearly every single class, but now that you’ve been caught, you bite your tongue?” 

“Don’t say her name!” Jeongin gets extremely defensive, standing out of the seat to be the same height as his professor. “What do you want from me? Just give me the journal and I’ll go. I’ll even switch out of this class if you want. I don’t care!” 

“Aw, Jeonginnie~” Minho rests his face on his hand, holding his own cheek as he watches Jeongin’s face get red with anger. “Just tell me, how is Y/n doing?” 

“How do you know Y/n?” Jeongin’s confused, unable to connect the pieces to this puzzle. 

“You’re not as smart as you let on.” Minho gets closer to Jeongin, getting right in his face to scare the young boy. “I was her husband. We were your neighbors.”

Jeongin could feel his legs shake, finally connecting every conversation, every question, every action. He steps back, vision going blurry as he’s flooded with memories of seeing none other than Lee Minho in your front lawn, playing with his daughters in the back, or sneaking out to a taxi late at night towards the end of his memories. Jeongin didn’t know your name until he started working for you, let alone know your estranged husband’s name. He felt like such a dumbass at this moment.

“So, how is she?” Minho puts his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder, forcing Jeongin to focus on him. “If you’re going to fuck my ex wife, you could at least tell me how she’s doing.”

“She’s doing well, certainly a lot better without you.” Minho scoffs, laughing at Jeongin’s weak attempt at a diss. 

“And the girls are doing well?” 

“Yup. I watch them every night after my classes.” Jeongin folds his arms, turning his chin up at Minho. How soon he forgets that Minho still has his precious journal.

“So that’s where she gets ya, huh?” Minho brings the notebook back to his face, flipping to a random page, putting his finger on a random line. “Is that where she, in your words, ‘gripped your cock like you’ve wanted her to for so long’? Or did that happen later?”

Half of Jeongin’s brain is struggling to come up with a response, while the other half is thinking about the first time you gave him a blowjob. He’s clenching his fists with anger, hoping Minho didn’t see him starting to pop a boner. 

“What goes on between us is none of your business.” Jeongin jumps forward, finally snatching his journal out of Minho’s hands. He holds his journal tightly in his hands, clutching it close to his chest. “I’ll be leaving now.”

Just as Jeongin turns around to get his bookbag, Minho grabs his wrist and turns him around, once again finding each other inches away from the other’s face. 

“She didn’t tell you anything about me, did she?” Jeongin shakes him off, rapidly walking back to his desk to get his bag. “Answer me, little boy.”

“She’s never said a word about you, Minho.” Jeongin goes for the door, finally seeing his exit within his sights. “Now leave me alone. I’ll see you on Thursday, sir.”

And with that, he’s out. Finally within possession of his journal, he minds his business walking down the hall, heading back to his house that’s less than a 10 minute walk from the campus. 

Just wait until Y/n hears about this.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

“He really hasn’t changed at all.” You stare out the window, taking a sip of tea from your mug as Jeongin finishes retelling the entire story to you. “I’m proud of you, Jeongin.”

“Proud of me? Why?” 

“You handled him very well. Any other boy your age would have crumbled under the pressure.” You sit next to him on the couch, putting your hand on his thigh more as comfort than a tactic to get into his pants. Regardless of your intentions, Jeongin can’t help but blush and bite his lip being the horny boy he is. “Lee Minho has a way with words. His charm worked on me in high school, and I’m sure it works on the other students in his classes.”

“Oh yeah, all the girls have crushes on him.” Jeongin covers his mouth with his hands when he realizes what he says. You just giggle at him, recalling some of the sweet, romantic moments you had with your ex-husband before everything went to shit. 

“Well, you know, the girls are going to his house this weekend. Maybe you should come over?” You ride your hand up his thigh teasingly, making Jeongin freeze as if he hasn’t had sex with you literally days earlier. “I’m always so worried about the girls when they’re with him. Maybe you can help me destress, baby boy.” 

“I’ll help you destress, mommy!” Jeongin smiles, mentally clearing his schedule for this weekend. “Can I ask something though?” 

“Ask away, baby. I’m an open book.” You lean back, one arm flailing behind your head as you take another sip from your mug.

“Why did you two… separate?” Jeongin cringes at his own words, realizing he might have crossed a line as your facial expression changes from a soft smile to a frown. “I’m just curious, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll tell you.” You huff as you sit up, swinging your arms forward so you can straighten your back. “He started acting distant out of nowhere, and some nights I’d wake up to find him gone from his side of the bed. A quick glance at his phone and I saw texts from another woman. I’d rather not get into gruesome details, but that’s the jist of it.”

“You don’t have to get into details. I shouldn’t have asked.” Jeongin shakes his head, leaning on your shoulder to comfort you. You put your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to you. “Thank you for sharing with me.”

“No, thank you for asking. It feels good to get these things off of my chest.” You sigh, feeling an odd sense of relief. You’ve never talked to anyone about this other than a therapist you had for a brief time before work took over your life.

“So… was he a sub like me?” You nearly spit out your tea, Jeongin sitting up and patting your back to stop you from coughing on the drink. “Sorry! Sorry!” 

You can’t help but laugh at the curious boy, his face getting redder than you’ve ever seen. That’s the hardest you’ve ever laughed in a while. 

“Do you really want to know?” You raise an eyebrow, Jeongin covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“I mean… a little.” He uncovers one eye, looking at your cheerful expression and immediately calming down after seeing you aren’t mad. “You’re good at… ya know. You have to have experience being a dom, right?” 

“Actually, I’ve always been the submissive. Do you really think the egoist Lee Minho would let someone else be in control?” You laugh at your own remark, Jeongin catching on and laughing with you. “But thank you for saying I’m good at sex I guess. Although, I don’t know how much of a compliment that is considering you’re a virgin” 

“Hey! I’m not a virgin anymore!” The red-as-a-tomato Jeongin makes a return as you laugh at his defensiveness. “Can I ask… one more question?”

“Jeez, are you interviewing me or something?” You take another sip of your tea as you gesture for the boy to ask away. He gulps, calculating his final question before he has to go home.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” Pause. You stare at the floor, thinking critically to yourself. How can you let down your sweet little boy without breaking his poor heart?

“Jeongin, you know we can’t be together.” You take one of his hands in your free hand, squeezing his fingers between yours as he nods, looking down at his legs. “I’m over 10 years older than you. That would be absurd.” 

“What if no one knows?” He’s really harping on this, huh? “Or can we be another title? Maybe friends with benefits?” 

“Yang Jeongin,” your quiet, commanding voice makes Jeongin look into your eyes, seeing the seriousness in your expression, “I’m your mother’s friend, not yours. I’m not sure how to define our relationship, but if you really want a label, we can be… sex partners. But no one can know that, alright?” 

“I understand.” Jeongin squeezes your hand back, allowing a comforting silence to fill the room. “So, this weekend?” 

“You can come over Friday night. He takes the girls in the morning, but I have work for the first half of the day. I took the weekend off, though, so I’m all yours, pretty boy.” You kiss his lips, getting caught in the taste before you pull back, stay your goodbyes, and send him home for the night before you go to bed for yourself.

When Jeongin gets back to his room, he sighs and takes out his journal, cracking his fingers before laying the pencil on the paper.

I want Lee Minho to pay. I want him to pay for breaking the heart of the woman I love, even if she doesn’t reciprocate the feelings. He must be insane for cheating on such an amazing woman. If mommy marks me up, leaving hickeys all over my pale neck, I’ll boldly wear something with a low-cut so Lee Minho can see all of the marks left by the most beautiful woman in the world. I’ll make sure he knows that I satisfy her more than he ever could. Y/n, if you’re reading this, please leave pretty bruises all over my body. I want mommy to mark me so bad, make sure everyone knows I’m hers. Regardless of the label anyone puts on our relationship, no one can deny that I’m hers. Her perverted boy, her slutty toy, her little prince, all hers. Only hers.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

The weekend flies closer than he could have imagined, and after seeing you come home exhausted and drained every single night, nothing pleases Jeongin more than knowing he’s the one that will help you relax. As he walks to your house, he regrets not going to the store and getting lotions so he could give you a massage from his unqualified hands. 

“Hey, baby.” You smile at him, bright and gorgeous as always. You invite him in and offer him a drink, which he politely declines. You notice he’s shaking more than usual, and although he was always nervous and awkward, you’ve never see him get this shaky. “Are you okay, Jeongin?”

“Mommy…”

“Oh, we’re right out the gate with this one?”

“I have a surprise for you.” Jeongin takes his shirt off and pulls down his jeans, revealing a hot pink, lace thong covering his half-hard cock. You look up from his cock to his chest, seeing fake, silver nipple rings adorning his pink buds. You cover your mouth as you gasp, indescribably turned on from the presentation this boy had planned. “That’s not all.”

He turns around, bending over so the thong dives deeper between his ass cheeks, but you quickly notice what he was hinting at. There’s a little pink rose peeking out of his ass, a clear decoration on a plug. He looks so fucking hot. You can’t take your eyes off of him.

“What do you think, mommy?” He holds his arms out as he turns around, facing you again as your body hasn’t moved since he’d last faced you. “Don’t you like it?”

“I love it, little prince.” You walk up to him, holding his waist in your hands as you pull him closer, licking one of his nipples, tasting the distinct metal flavor of the ring. “You never fail to surprise me, baby.” 

You kiss from his nipple to his panties, getting down on your knees as you lick over the thin fabric. He twitches under the lace, getting harder every second. Before your mouth can properly suck his cock, you stand up and kiss him harshly on the lips, tasting a faint strawberry flavor. You smile against his mouth, holding his by his waist again as you pull him into your body, your chests coming in contact. 

“Mommy, please sit on my face. I want to make you feel good,” Jeongin whines between kisses. Your hands run up and down his body, feeling him up and making him shiver in anticipation. For right now, you’re content with just sucking on his sweet lips, but his cock clearly needs some attention. “Please~”

“Let’s go to my bedroom, sweetheart. I’ll ride your pretty face as much as you want.” You take his hand in yours as you take him back to your room, practically throwing him on the bed. He palms himself over his thong while you undress, totally forgetting about the rules you’d set up. When you turn around, your gaze goes immediately, almost instinctively, to his hand on his cock as he half-assedly strokes himself. “Is my naughty little boy touching himself? Without my permission?” 

“Sorry, mommy. I couldn’t help it.” Jeongin presses his bottom lip out as he pouts, pulling his hand off of his cock. You roll your eyes and get onto the bed, sitting over his chest before staring down at him like you’re a shark and he’s your next meal. 

“I don’t know if you deserve to eat my pussy anymore.” You ponder, bringing your hand to your chin as if you’re genuinely considering not riding his face until you’re dripping. He puts his hands above his head and pleads again, whining in his adorable high-pitched voice. “Alright, baby boy, but only because I want this.”

You scoot up to his face, hovering your naked cunt over his gorgeous face. As you slowly start to lower your hips to his mouth, Jeongin eagerly sticks his tongue out and fights against his reflexes to just grab you. He laps at your folds, humming from the sweetness as you grind on his face and grip the headboard of the bed. 

“Good boy, Jeonginnie. If you make mommy cum, you’ll get a reward.” He moans into your pussy, his cock twitching under his lace panties just at the thought of you rewarding him. For being so hungry for punishment just days prior, he really wanted to be your good little boy just for today. He sticks his wet tongue into your cunt, inciting you to ride his face even harder, raising and lowering just enough for his tongue to never leave your tight, needy cunt. 

His tongue pulls back, leaving you empty for a moment before he starts kissing and sucking at your clit. You lean forward, putting your clit right up to his mouth all for him. Your sopping cunt was absolutely begging for an orgasm, and Jeongin was getting you there faster than you could have ever imagined. The moans leaving your throat only made Jeongin want to make you cum even more. 

“Please cum on my face, ma’am.” Jeongin wastes no time returning his tongue to your pussy, his wrists still above his head as if he were cuffed. Your legs start to get uneasy, shaking around Jeongin’s head as you breath heavily and mindlessly moan out his favorite pet names and countless praises. He’s smiling against you, sucking your folds until you finally release, your cunt tightening around his tongue as you whine and grind, riding out your high on his face. You were undoubtedly euphoric, slowly coming down from an extremely intense orgasm, but Jeongin was also through the moon, tasting all of your juices leaking into his mouth. 

“Ah, thank you little boy.” You flip your leg over his head, stepping back onto the floor with your weak, tired legs, a hand on the bed so you don’t fall over. You run a hand down his leg, Jeongin starting to shake with anticipation. He holds his wrists steady above his head without any help of restraints. Your palm runs over his cock, touching him over his thin panties. He lets out a huff, needy for more. “Does my sweet prince need to be fucked?” 

Jeongin’s whine are so fucking pathetic. A tear runs down his cheek just from the thought of you fucking him. He watches you as you turn around and reach into your drawer, digging through until you pull out a harness and a bright pink dildo that oddly matches his panties. Jeongin tightens his hole, remembering the bulb nestled in his ass. As you put the harness on, he lifts his hips and shakes his as against the bed.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, “please fuck my ass. Need your cock in me so fucking bad!” He sounds so overwhelmingly lewd, but you loved every second of it. You attach the dildo to your harness, tightening it perfectly so it won’t budge. You cup his cheek as you reposition yourself on the bed, lifting his legs over your thighs. You watch his cock tremble, begging to be touched, as Jeongin stares directly at your face, watching your eyes dart from his cock to his hardened nipped to his quivering lips. “Mommy?”

“Yes sweetheart?” You tilt your head and smile, making a burst of warmth erupt in Jeongin’s chest. 

“Please be gentle, okay?” You giggle at his cuteness and nod, reaching to your bedside to take out lube. Squirting it onto your hand, you rub the length of the dildo with one hand while you teasingly pull at his plug, pulling it out just enough to make him groan. 

“You look incredible, baby boy.” You lean down to kiss him while your hand moves from your dildo to his ass, both hands pulling out the plug before you finger him with lubed fingers. All of his moans are lost on your lips, his tongue letting out and into your mouth, dancing with yours. He squeals when your fingers leave his ass, and he knows exactly what’s next. 

You take his hands in yours from above his head, pulling them down to be next to his head. You lean over the boy while you line your cock with his hole, teasingly pushing the tip against his entrance. 

“I’ll go slow, don’t worry angel.” Your hands hold your hips as you slowly push the strap into Jeongin, watching it disappear into his tight little hole. His thong is pushed to the side of his hole while painfully rubbing against the bottom of his shaft. You would have taken it off, but he just looks too damn sexy in them. 

Jeongin writhes as you stop halfway, petting his sides to help him calm down. He feels so full, so stretched, something he’s never felt before. He’s wanted this for so long, he just wants to enjoy it so bad, especially for you, but the pain is starting to get to him. He’s whining loudly, biting down on his lip harshly in hopes of silencing some of his sounds. 

“Jeongin? Are you okay?” Your voice is soft, but not delicate. You’re speaking at a regular volume, an attempt to pull Jeongin out of his head. He opens his eyes and looks at you, tears threatening to fall out. “What’s the safe word?” 

“Avocado.” 

“One more time for me, baby. What’s the safe word?” Without moving your hips, you lean forward to hold onto his face. He looks so gorgeous, messy and covered in sweat. You just want him to be happy. 

“Avocado.” He pushes his face against your hand, his voice returning to a regular pitch. “You can go further now, mommy.” 

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” You lean more to kiss his forehead, admiring his sharp facial features. 

“I want you to fuck me, please.” His tone is flat, sounding almost unenthused until the final word. You nod and patiently push into him, carefully watching his face for any indication of pain. Jeongin starts to groan loudly as you bottom out, pressing the bottom of the harness against him. “Thank you.” 

“Good boy, Innie. My angel’s so pretty like this.” Your hands go to his chest, dainty fingers pinching his nipples just how he likes. His moans are back to being the high, pathetic whines you’re used to from the boy. His cock twitches, a drop of precum dripping from the tip. “You ready for me to move, my little prince?”

“Yes, mommy. I’m ready!” Your heart warms watching Jeongin’s face light up for such a perverted sentiment. He looks so excited, finally starting to enjoy it. You grip his hips tight as you pull out, watching his cock stutter and his mouth hang open. When you pound back into him slowly, Jeongin feels that familiar warmth in his stomach. 

“You like this, baby boy? You like getting fucked by your mommy?” Your voice is sinister as you increase the pace, rhythmically moving your hips against Jeongin’s ass. His legs shutter as you fuck him, all of his nerves standing on edge. “Who’s mommy’s little cumslut?”

“I am, mommy! I’m your little c-cum… fuck!” Jeongin throws his head back as you wrap one hand around his cock, your other hand is grounded on his hip. You start to jerk him, fast and aggressive, coaxing him to an orgasm even faster.

The dildo drags against Jeongin’s walls, brushing past the sensitive spot he didn’t even know he had. With every thrust and stroke, he can feel himself start to fall apart, all of his speech devolving into incoherent whines and cries. Sweat drips down his forehead as he finds it harder and harder to hold back his release. 

“C-close,” he whimpers, “gonna cum.” 

“Aw, my sweet little boy ready to cum?” You speed up the movements of your hand, tightening your iron grip on his sensitive, red cock. Jeongin feels his reality start to fade, only being able to focus on his impending orgasm. “Cum all you want, baby. Be a good little boy and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes stare intensely at his cock as he’s pushed over the edge, his body convulsing as he has the most powerful orgasm of his life. He shoots his load all over his abs and chest, some dripping onto your hand. Your hand goes still on his shaft, but your hips still slowly rut into him, easing him through his high. 

“Gonna pull out now, alright pretty boy?” He nods, bringing his hand up to his face for him to bite down on his finger. You gently pull your hips back, eventually slipping out of him, watching him breath heavily as you let go of his hips and cock. “Did you like that?” 

“Yes, Y/n. You felt so good,” he smiles, watching you as you stand up to pull the harness off and toss it towards the drawer for you to clean later. “Can we get dinner now?”

“Sweetheart, you need to rest!” You walk to the side of the bed and give him a peck on his forehead, soon kissing him on his plush lips. He lays on your bed, limbs spread out as he’s lifeless and naked. “You did so well for me. I’ll cook you dinner while you take a nap, alright?”

“I’d like that, mommy. Thank you!” You pull the discarded comforter over his body, forcing him to get warm and cozy under your covers. He looked so sweet in your bed, snuggled against the soft bed that smelled like you. 

“How about pasta? Does my boy like pasta?” He nods, shutting his eyes and rolling to his side, preparing to sleep. “I’ll be back in an hour. Rest well, Jeongin.” 

“Thank you~”

Jeongin dozes off as you get dressed in lounge pants, a loose shirt, underwear and no bra. He looks so peaceful sleeping, so you’re extra quiet when you slip out of your bedroom to the kitchen. 

You gather the ingredients and start to boil the water when you get a call. Just as before, it’s your ex-husband, Minho. You groan and hesitantly press the green phone button, turning the call to speaker before setting your phone on the counter. 

“Y/n? Hello?”

“What do you want, Minho?” Your voice sounds disinterested to say the least, and Minho immediately gets the hint that his call was not wanted. 

“I’m gonna cut to the chase. One of my student’s grades are suffering because of your relationship with him-“

“Shouldn’t you be watching my kids?” You don’t have the mental capacity to listen to Minho scold you right now. Your motherly instincts are tingling, and he should be watching your little angels right now. 

“They’re with their stepmom right now.” You grumble at his use of the word “stepmom” considering your daughters still call her by her first name, but nevertheless, you go silent, hoping he’ll get on with this call. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, you need to stop playing games with Yang Jeongin.” 

“Playing games?” Your face turns red as anger suddenly fills your brain. “We aren’t playing games, Lee Minho. We’re adults. Neither of us need your permission.” 

“You’re playing with this kid’s feelings. Don’t you feel bad?” You pause, watching bubbles start to rise in the pot. “This kid is suffering just because you want to be fucked and you’re too prideful to-“

“Don’t even say that, Minho.” You reach for the box of pasta, dumping the noodles into the pot of boiling water. “I’ll never get back with you. You know that.” 

“What does he have that I don’t?” You hear a loud tsk through the phone, Minho taking a break in his talk to ponder his next move. “You’d rather fuck a college student than a real man?”

“Jeongin’s more of a real man than you’ll ever be!” You’re nearly yelling at this point, rage overwhelming you. “What do you know about our relationship anyway? It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is!” Before you have a chance to respond to his outlandish comment, he chimes back in. “He writes in his little fantasy book every single class, and every time I look over his shoulder, I have to see your name scrawled over every page. He’s obsessed with you, Y/n.” 

“Shut up! Just, shut up!” You stop stirring the pasta to collect your thoughts, breathing in before you lash out at Minho over the phone. “Go watch my kids-“

“Our kids.”

“Go watch our kids and never speak to me about this again. I’ll tell Jeongin to get his grades up. Just, for fuck’s sake, leave me alone.” You hang up, angrily throwing your phone onto the counter again. You hear the floor squeak behind you and you turn around, a scared Jeongin standing behind you with the blanket wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His eyes well up with tears, fearful of how you’ll respond. “This was a mistake.” 

“Jeongin, baby, no!” You drop the spoon to the edge of the pot and bring Jeongin in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. His arms wrap around your neck, the blanket falling to the floor to reveal him wearing one of your big shirts. “Don’t mind him. How much did you hear?”

“A-all of it.” He sniffles, collecting himself with deep breaths. “I didn’t know I’d cause so much trouble.”

“It’s Minho who’s causing trouble, not you.” You pet down his back, trying to get him to calm down and stop crying. “Go back to my room and lay down, babe.” 

“Can I stay out here and watch you?” You lean down to pick up the blanket, wrapping it around Jeongin again. His eyes are puffy and red as if he’s been emotional for a while, and your heart aches just looking at his disheveled state. 

“Of course, baby. Go sit on that stool.” He pulls the stool out from under the kitchen island and gets comfortable, leaning on the counter with his elbows. You go back to stirring the pasta, watching it rise and fall. “I love you, Jeongin.” 

“I love you too, Y/n. Thank you for inviting me here today.” He swoons at your bright demeanor, a stark contrast from the bitter persona you’d taken while on the phone with his professor. “What did you mean when you said I’m a… real man?” 

You laugh a bit, dropping the spoon to the side and getting butter and a bowl out for the pasta. “Lee Minho was never a good man. He takes advantage of everyone who comes into his life. You’re not like that.” 

Jeongin tilts his head. “Then what am I like?” 

“You’re, uh…” you put your hand on your chin, scratching at your skin in thought. “You’re very kind and genuine, which is a bit surprising for a boy your age.”

Jeongin hated every time you brought up age. It only furthered to remind him about how different you two were, and how he never had a chance with you from the start. In your eyes, he’ll never be more than a kid, and that ate away and him. Jeongin’s only goal with you was for you to see him as an equal rather than a child, but he wasn’t sure how to go about reaching that.

“So I’m a real man?” Jeongin smiles, his heart fluttering thinking of you calling him a man. 

“Pasta’s ready! Do you want cheese?” You pour the pasta from the strainer into the bowl, mixing it with the butter. Per your request, Jeongin gets the powdered cheese out of the refrigerator, sitting at the kitchen island again, this time with you right next to him, piling pasta onto his plate before yours, your motherly instincts kicking in again. 

“Thank you mo- I mean, Y/n!” You both giggle at his adorable slip up, appreciating each other’s company. 

“You’re welcome, baby boy.” You push his hair from his forehead and kiss his nose, his cheeks quickly turning a deep shade of pink. “So cute.” 

taglist: @milkym00n @sparklysung @starsareseen @sailorhyunjinz @gothicstay @vogueinnie​ @mariannaab

[kneamet]

Inspired by Wandavision. Reader is trapped in a perfect world of sitcom. However, she notices that her husband Loki is in control of everyone. I also ask for a scene that Loki goes to SWORD agents and threatens them like Wanda.

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere, forced, kidnapping

Word Count: 2768

Character: Loki/reader

Summary: you knew that your husband was a magician, but you never thought that he would decide to create a perfect false world

POV Your

It was strange. Very strange. The world has seemed unreal to you lately. Everything was so unrealistic that I wanted to gouge out my eyes.

You looked down at your hands, feeling extremely worried. This acrid feeling burned and ate away at you from the inside out, making you feel anxious. It was very scary and unusual.

"Darling, what are you doing? Thinking about genesis?" the mocking velvety baritone whose owner was currently smiling softly at you from behind asked you. A light laugh followed his sentence. Laughter, like a crowd laughing at a joke.

You shook your head. It seemed particularly heavy now. Reflection and thoughts struck your bright, unfilled dark thoughts, head.

"Loki, what is that laugh?" you asked, turning your head to look at him. Loki only raised an eyebrow at your remark and smiled at you again, shaking his head and walking down the stairs towards you.

"I don't know what you're talking about, my sweet queen? What are you getting at?" coming up to you and touching your hair with the big hand that did the magic and gently running it through it. You blinked, leaning away from her husband's touch.

You loved his touch. So soft, so tender, so in need of the necessary love, which... What is it? Why can't you remember?

"Loki, honey, can I ask you something?" you could feel his nod as you stared at the dark screen on the off-screen TV. "What happened before we came to Westview? I can't remember, " you said in confusion, turning completely into Loki, who was looking at you with a serious look, frowning.

There was a lonely silence between you and your husband. On the top floor, the children could be heard frolicking and playing among themselves. The tension that weighed down the souls of those in the main room was overwhelming.

"Is this how pregnancy affected you? You know, I'm not an expert, but after this stage in life, girls are very suspicious of their husbands, " Loki smiled charmingly again, sitting down next to you on the blue sofa that sagged under his weight, and hugging you around the neck, kissing you on the cheek. It was a ridiculous kiss, more like a reassuring kiss.

The laughter came again. It was an unusual laugh when you see someone in front of you and they laugh. No, it was a laugh on the echoes of consciousness, which in an endless rhythm only intensified when a "funny" joke was heard. It was suspiciously strange. You felt your hands start to sweat a little.

With your lips pressed tightly together and your teeth biting the inside of your cheek, you stood up, emerging from Loki's pleasant captivity. His hands, which you so loved to touch, had to be left behind, freeing yourself from a pleasant manual captivity.

You loved Loki. He was a very interesting man... No, not a man, but a God, to put it mildly. Your beloved God, who was head over heels in love with you. He was very sarcastic and handsome: that black hair of his, which was now cut short in a perfect style; green eyes, so attentive that nothing escapes them. What can I say here, he's a God.

Grabbing your coat from the hanger and going straight up the stairs and heading straight for the door, wanting to get out and get some fresh air, as well as refresh your obsessive thoughts by going deeper into the thoughts that haunted you even at night.

"Honey, are you going somewhere?" getting up from the sofa, your husband asked obsessively, smiling at you and in an instant, teleporting, being near you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

You mastered your shoulder from his hand, shaking it slightly and not even paying attention to it, opened the door, saying:

"Get some fresh air. Keep an eye on the boys," you muttered as you closed the door behind you, not even bothering to look at your husband, who was standing there with a tense face, looking at you. It's a good thing you didn't notice.

You wanted to get out of this city. Find out what's next. Maybe we can find out from people if they know anything about you, or maybe it's just that you have a terrible memory.

But no, it can't be so terrible that you don't remember anything from the day you and Loki came to this city that seemed like an ideal city. Still, there was something wrong. Something was bothering you.

Deciding not to slow down and just walk towards the end of the city, you began to look around. You didn't walk very far, maybe fifty meters from your house, and everything was fine.

"Hi, Rob!" you shouted to your fool from work, to which he only smiled painfully at you, and your feeling only grew stronger when you saw a tear trickle down his cheek.

We need to get out of this city faster and find out from the people who live nearby if they know what's going on here in Westview.

You didn't remember when this craze to find out what was going on in this town started. Maybe when you haven't seen the kids on the playground for a couple of days in a row? Or when your friend Geraldine left so suddenly that you didn't notice? Or when the children began to grow very quickly? Or maybe when I saw the tears of the residents, when they portrayed happiness?

It was difficult. You couldn't put the details together, and your mind refused to remember your past, which you couldn't just forget. There must have been something, right? Your memories couldn't have started with you coming here with your husband, could they?

You shook your head, looking up and noticing that the main city was gone, leaving only small houses and a road that led off into the distance. Just where the STOP sign is placed. Is travel prohibited for everyone, or just for you and the people of this city?

Suddenly you stopped, clutching your head. No, no, no, what if you're imagining it? What if this is all just a game of your excited mind? Maybe you just made it all up and the people at Westview are really happy?

Squinting at the small house, your eyes only widened in fear, which was reflected in your trembling hands and your herd of goosebumps that ran down your back. The woman stood motionless, as did the man, apparently he was her husband, and she was his wife. They just stared at one point, apparently not even breathing. It was scary to see and you didn't dare approach them.

Looking around and not noticing anyone behind you, only frozen people, you stepped a little further, overcoming the road, noticing a strange, whatever it was, but it looks like a wall or some kind of dome that was blue mixed with green, similar to the colors of magic... Loki?

You knew about Loki's abilities. That he's quite a powerful mage, but could he create this dome? Was he so powerful that you didn't even know it? Your hands trembled, and so did your lower nooba. Your eyes stared at that dome-wall in amazement and tortured fear.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open as you finally put together the details that had previously been a dead weight in your head.

When you touched it with your hand, you felt yourself being pulled in. It became uncomfortable. Now the question of real life was being decided, where you would learn everything about yourself and live in a world where there were no lies, or whether it would be better to stay in a world full of lies, but with your husband. Your hand has wavered in the direction of the false world. What if Loki gets angry? Did you know how evil he can be?

But no, as you said earlier, retreating now was too easy and incomprehensibly simple. To give up is to admit defeat, to remain in a world where you will always be written as a lie.

But Loki...

Shaking your head again, and finally stepping into that dome wall that seemed to shield you from the real world, you felt a pull with your foot and your whole body. So you didn't have to do anything. In any case, you will simply be thrown out of this world, soaked in lies.

As you tried to make your way through this wall with small steps, you felt how thick it was in its width and so high, although it did not bother you. Right now, all that filled my heart was a sense of freedom.

You felt like your mind was being released and memories were coming back to you from before you and Loki moved to New Jersey.

Suddenly, you felt something hit you in the back and you seemed to fly out of this wall right on the green grass with your stomach down. You groaned a little, sitting up and looking around.

There were people standing right next to you, surrounding you and looking at you in disbelief. Behind them were tents and huge body cars that flashed their headlights. Strange faces were looking at you, very worried. Your eyes went over the people very quickly before you said:

"Darcy?" you whispered, squinting against the light. She was the only person who supported you back then. Then? When?

"Y/N?"

"Help me, please save me!" you asked them, seeing how some of them began to approach you with a reliable expression on their faces, apparently wanting to help.

"I don't think you need any help, my dear queen," said a familiar soft and sweet baritone voice behind you, the sound of which your ears enjoyed. Your eyes widened and you felt fear. Inappropriate fear. Your legs are shaking. Your heart began to beat in a loud rhythm in your mind, drowning out everything except Loki's words, which were currently echoing in your head.

***

POV Loki

He did not think that his dear, dear queen would betray him. Didn't you realize that Loki did everything especially for you, wanting to dedicate every part of himself to you? Did he know that this world wasn't safe, and why did he have to create a fictional one based on your favorite TV shows, which he liked to watch with you, wrapped in a blanket on the comfortable sofa in your apartment, which he often visited earlier?

Loki loved you too much. He never wanted to hurt you, only to help you and make you feel needed and in love with someone.

He always thought you needed someone to take care of you. Yes, and take care so that you will feel like a queen. To protect, care for, and trust you, and the most important thing is to show love for you. What he missed so much.

Loki didn't like remembering the past. It was just a dark line that he crossed out when his mother died, whom he loved so much that he did not even notice the bright manipulations on her part. No, for him, she was a savior who protected him from his father's wrath.

Blinking and shifting his bleary gaze to you, his beloved queen, Loki tightened his grip on the missile that had been set upon him and his children. His favorite perfect twin boys that his beloved wife gave birth to.

They were so wonderful. Children are the flowers of life, isn't that what the Midgardians say? It seems to be. The ideal family, such as only happens in the movies, was embodied by Loki in the form of him, his beloved wife and two children.

Throwing a rocket in the direction of S.W.O.R.D., Loki lowered his head, feeling the magic that was green in color form in his hands and that was ready to kill everyone and get out of his personal life.

The contempt for people oozing out of his mouth was as ugly as it could possibly be. His gaze darted in your direction and softened slightly. The sight of you always calmed his raging mind and brought him to his senses. He took a step toward you, grabbing you in a sloppy hug, as if to show his protection.

It was nice for him to look at you. Your soft hair, in which he liked to bury his nose; your beautiful eyes, in which you could drown if you looked at them only once, and in which he was often lost. He saw you pursing your lips, frowning. Were you afraid?

Loki turned his gaze back to the agents, focusing his magic in his left hand. Magic that can cause pain.

"The rocket was a precaution. You can't blame us, Loki, " a loud male voice shouted. He didn't know him. But most likely it was the director. Loki's brow furrowed as he tightened his grip on you, doing nothing but protect you. He won't let the agents take you away. For too long, he had been alone, wandering the worlds.

"I don't think so. This is my last warning," as if a growl had escaped Loki's lips and the magic had only intensified, instilling the fear he so fiercely enjoyed. "Stay out of my house," the house he was so happy to have. A home where everyone loves him and waits for him. A house where he is respected. The house he missed. "You won't touch me, and I won't touch you," he warned, eager to get out of here and talk to his wife. They would have to have a long conversation.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. You're holding the whole city hostage, " the unknown man shouted at Loki, to which Loki only curled his lip. Contemptuously. Didn't they understand that he just wanted to be happy? That he just wants to be alone with his beloved and his children?

"I'm not the one with the weapon," Loki warned him, feeling the arm he held around you tighten slightly, and the magic only increased its power. She seemed ready to destroy everything he could see. But right now, he had you, his beloved queen, at his side, who calmed him down with just an unobtrusive presence.

"But you're in control!" a commanding voice was heard. This time it was a woman. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki watched the expression on his beloved queen's face.

"Geraldine?" ah, what a gentle and quiet voice.

"Are you still here?" the man arched an eyebrow significantly, kissing you in the hair and looking with a withering look at the ex-girlfriend of his wife, who insinuated herself into the trust and into the affairs of his family.

"Loki... I didn't know the drones were armed. But you know that, don't you?" slowly approaching him and you, the woman said in a soothing voice, like a doctor talking to his sick patient. Loki always knew there was something wrong with her. She was too suspicious. "The city is full of civilians, but you, God, have brought an S.W.O.R.D. agent into your home," Loki frowned. The blood surged in his veins. He knew that at some point, he just wouldn't hold back. "I helped your wife give birth to your children," she looked at you, and you reflected her gaze with a look of hope. Do you want to leave him? "And on some level, you realize that I'm your ally. I want to help you, " she said in a trusting tone, and Loki slightly reduced the pressure of his magic that oozed from his thin fingers.

"How? What can you offer me?" he knew what she would say. There was no answer to that question. It was all reduced to one thing. The family Loki needed.

"What do you want?" the woman asked, standing in the background with the man who had spoken to him earlier, as if taking a manipulative pose.

"I already have everything. And no one will ever take that away again," Loki muttered, releasing a large stream of energy from his hands, forcing himself to control the minds of his subordinates and aim the scope at the director of S.W.O.R.D.

Turning around, Loki grabbed your hand, squeezing it in a painful grip and helping you turn around. He saw how you tried to resist and remove his intrusive hands and touch, to which the man himself only tightened his grip on you, pushing you into a false world.