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evansbby · 5 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.

𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”

“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.

His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.

Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.

And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.

You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.

“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”

Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.

“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.

Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.

And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.

After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.

And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.

“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”

Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…

“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.

He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.

“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”

Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.

And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.

Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.

What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.

“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.

The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.

“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.

You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”

Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.

“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.

“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”

“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”

Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”

He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.

“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”

Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.

“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”

You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.

He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.

“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.

“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.

It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.

“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”

You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.

“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”

You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”

“Take it out.”

A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.

“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.

“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”

He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.

“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”

“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”

“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”

You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.

“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”

Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”

You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.

He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.

“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.

Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.

“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”

“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”

Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?

He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.

“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”

“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”

Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.

Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.

“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.

Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.

But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.

“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.

“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”

There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”

Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.

Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.

He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.

He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.

“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.

“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”

He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.

Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.

“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.

With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.

It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.

You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.

He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.

You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”

Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.

“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”

His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.

“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”

With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.

“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”

A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”

The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.

“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.

Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.

“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”

This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.

“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”

He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.

And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.

“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.

He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.

“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.

“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”

You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.

“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.

“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.

“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.

Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.

Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.

But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.

He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”

Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…

He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…

“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”

How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.

“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.

Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.

“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.

Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.

Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.

He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.

Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.

He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.

He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.

“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.

He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.

He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.

Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.

He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.

Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.

“Yes.”

You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.

You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.

“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.

He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.

Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.

“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”

You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.

“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.

“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.

The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).

You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.

“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”

He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.

“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.

Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.

The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You’ve passed out.

“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.

“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.

It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.

“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”

Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.

“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”

Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.

“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”

You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”

Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!

With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.

A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.

“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”

Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.

“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.

“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”

Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.

“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”

You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”

“Answer me!”

“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.

Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”

The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…

For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.

“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”

Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.

He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.

“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.

He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.

“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”

He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –

“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.

“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”

“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”

“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”

Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.

“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.

You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.

He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.

Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.

With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.

He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.

“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”

This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.

“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.

With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air. It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”

It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.

“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.

He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.

“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”

Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.

“Use your words.”

“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”

You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.

“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.

“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.

You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.

All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.

He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.

“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.

“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”

“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”

He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.

And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.

“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”

You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.

“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”

You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”

“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”

Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”

“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.

“Wh-What–”

“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”

Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”

He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.

“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”

Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.

With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.

Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.

“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”

Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”

Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”

“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“N-No, I–”

He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.

“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.

“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”

You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.

The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.

“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.

“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.

Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.

Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.

***

It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.

The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.

“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.

“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”

The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.

“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”

“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”

They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.

“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.

His beautiful, broken little bride.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”

Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.

Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.

He deserved this.

AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.

ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

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byoldervine · 1 month

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How To (Realistically) Make A Habit Of Writing

To clarify: Works with my autism. WORKS WITH MY AUTISM!!! I’ve been meeting my goals since I made them my New Year’s resolution! Anyway I’m so sick of all those ‘how to’ guides that don’t actually tell you what the process is they’re just like ‘just do it, but don’t burn yourself out, do what’s best for you!’ because you’re not telling me what I’m not supposed to be burning myself out over but okay, so I made my own. Hope this helps

1. Choose your fighter metric. What works better for you as a measurement of your progress; time spent writing or your word count? Personally I get very motivated and encouraged by seeing my word count go up and making a note of where it should be when I’m done, so I measure by that. At the same time, a lot of people are also very discouraged by their word count and it can negatively impact their motivation to write, and in that case you may be better off working from how much time you spend writing rather than where the word count is

2. Choose your starter Pokémon time frame. How often can you write before it starts to feel like a chore or a burden rather than something fun you look forward to? Many people believe that they have to write daily, but for some people this can do more harm than good. Maybe every two or three days? Weekly? Figure out what fits your schedule and go with it

3. Choose your funny third joke goal. Now that you’ve got your chosen time frame to complete your goal in, what’s a reasonable goal to aim to complete within that time frame based on the metric you chose? If your metric is your word count, how much can you reasonably and consistently write within your chosen time frame? If your metric is time spent writing, how much time can you reasonably and consistently spend writing within that time? Maybe 1000 words per week works, or maybe 10 minutes per day? The goal here is to find something that works for you and your own schedule without burning you out

4. Trial and error. Experiment with your new target and adapt it accordingly. Most people can’t consistently write 1667 words per day like you do in NaNoWriMo, so we want to avoid that and aim somewhere more reasonable. If you feel like it’s too much to do in such a short time frame, either give yourself less to do or more time to do it in. If you find yourself begrudgingly writing so often that it constantly feels more like a chore than something fun, maybe consider adapting things. And if you think that you gave yourself too much wiggle room and you could do more than this consistently, give yourself more of a challenge. Everything needs to suit you and your pace and needs

5. Run your own race. Don’t feel like you’re not accomplishing enough in comparison to others or not working fast enough to satisfy some arbitrary feeling of doubt. Everybody works at their own pace and slower work doesn’t mean worse work. You could be on one word per day and you’ll still see consistent results, which is still one word per day more than you could originally count on. All progress is progress, regardless of its speed

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batfamluvr · 7 months

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Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.

#yandere damian wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x plus size reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x female reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x oc #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you

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come-see-our-show · 4 months

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I saw an early screening of the Mean Girls movie last night, so here is a summary of my thoughts, comparing the movie musical to the Broadway musical, which I was lucky enough to see live in 2018!

Changed that I liked:

The usage of social media in the Broadway show made it very clear that it was written by adults who didn’t know much about Gen-Z. It was probably one of the worst parts of the show in my opinion. But Tina Fey must have done her research since 2018, because the way the movie uses TikTok, memes, vlogging, and FaceTime to push the story forward worked VERY well. I think there were some influencer cameos, but it didn’t feel they were included to show how “young and hip” they were, It actually added authenticity.

The diversity within the cast and changing last names to reflect the characters’ backgrounds (Karen Smith ➡️ Karen Shetty, Janis Sarkisian ➡️ Janis 'Imi'ike)

Cutting down “Meet the Plastics.” It’s a very exposition-heavy song and doesn’t need to be super long, even though the full version is quite catchy and fun.

All of the new jokes landed so well, probably because Tina Fey’s writing style is better suited for the screen as opposed to the stage.

This is more of a comparison of the musical vs. the original film, but a big change was The Plastics’ weaponized wokeness (which I talk about here).

The production design for most of the songs was very different. The stage musical has a lot of rock songs, which were changed to a pop sound for the movie. I personally prefer rock musicals, but it was a good way to give the movie a separate identity from its predecessor so it doesn’t risk becoming a carbon copy. It worked on some songs (“Someone Gets Hurt” and “World Burn”) but not on others (“A Cautionary Tale” and “Revenge Party”).

Cutting the joke about Regina’s ass being big. It was a very low-brow joke, which I’m not a fan of, and was just really immature. Thank God that was changed to her falling, which still shows her being embarrassed without her body being the joke.

Explicitly making Janis a lesbian! (It’s only implied in the stage show with “It’s not even true… I only have one butt”) And she goes to prom with a girl while Damien dances with a boy! ALSO THERE’S REJANIS LORE AND IT’S SO HEARTBREAKING I LOVE IT

megan thee stallion just… being there

Miss Norbury and Principal Duvall being a couple and owning a dog together!!!

As a low mezzo, I appreciated whoever decided to lower the key for “I’d Rather Be Me.” I felt very represented 🩷

Having Cady be raised in a single-parent household so it focuses in more on her relationship with her mom. Jenna Fischer was so motherly and sincere and brought a warmth to the movie. Their scene together near the end made me emotional (you’re never too old to ask your parent to stay with you until you fall asleep) (also this is my request to make jenna fischer my mom)

Changes that I didn’t like:

Cutting BOTH of Damian’s solos??? (SHE’S LEAVING!!!!!!!! JUST LIKE MY DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Cutting “More Is Better.” It wasn’t necessarily a memorable song, but it did give both Cady and Aaron more depth, both as separate characters and within their relationship.

While cutting some of the songs helped with pacing, cutting HALF of the score made me forget that it was a musical sometimes, which sucks because I really like musicals!!!

Other stuff:

The movie was marketed horribly. One of my friends didn’t even know it was gonna be a musical because there were no songs in the trailers 💀 (Also, this isn’t just a Mean Girls problem. The Color Purple also didn’t have any songs in the trailer. I didn’t even know Wonka was a musical until I saw it in theaters, so that was a bit of a shock.) If you’re producing a musical movie, maybe your focus groups should be musical fans, because that’s still a HUGE market.

Auliʻi Cravalho’s voice is STUNNING! She and Jaquel Spivey had great chemistry and their friendship felt so genuine!

The opening and ending transitions from the garage were everything to me

The EDITING

Angourie Rice is a great actor and fit Cady perfectly… except for her singing. Out of the entire cast she was easily the weakest in terms of vocals and it was pretty disappointing since she’s the LEAD. I could barely hear her in the new song “What Ifs” because of how quiet and breathy she was. I think it’s a better written song compared to “Roar” though.

Jon Hamm cameo!

Ashley Park cameo!

I cannot stress enough how funny this movie was. I was probably laughing louder than everyone else in the theatre.

I lost my shit during “Meet the Plastics” when Regina unzipped her jacket and Cady was staring at her boobs. She’s just like me fr 🏳️‍🌈

I know that Regina is a horrible person but I couldn’t find it in me to dislike her in the slightest. She just served too much cunt 😩

Christopher Briney is a good actor, but I don't think he was the right choice for Aaron Samuels. I would hate to ridicule anyone for their looks, but it still plays an important part in casting. Aaron is supposed to be a somewhat naive, wholesome, hot jock (and Regina has high standards, so he better be a fucking model). Briney is definitely a cutie, but gives off “smoldering badboy with a secret sensitive side” energy, which isn’t what Aaron should be.

The fantasy sequences (Stupid With Love, Revenge Party, October 3rd). I LOVE when movie musicals USE the medium to tell stories in a way that they can’t on a stage!!!

THE CHOREO!!! Everyone freezing then shaking in “Someone Get Hurt” AHHHH that entire number was HYPNOTIZING!!!!!!!!!!! My friend told me the choreographer’s name is Kyle Hanagami, so shout out to him. (also reneé rapp was so fucking hot while singing that oh my lord)

I will be calling my pimples “face breasts” from now on (avantika ilysm)

DAMIAN’S FRENCH COVER OF THE ICARLY THEME SONG 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

why was there a 0.5 camera shot of cady during revenge party 💀

“I’d Rather Be Me” was so much fun and I felt so fucking empowered. And the transition from the song to the bus was just *chef’s kiss*

“donut worry i am still your freend” 🥺

Lindsay Lohan cameo!!!!!!!!!

NOT ENOUGH RENEÉ RAPP 😭😭

Overall, the movie was not perfect, but the Broadway show already had plenty of flaws, so it’s understandably how that would affect the adaptation. I still a LOT of fun and would definitely see it again. Go stream Snow Angel by Reneé Rapp. i love women 🥰🥰🥰

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tired-biscuit · 4 months

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BUSCUIT!! the way you write yuuji…i’m gonna implode. if you have any more thoughts i am literally all ears 🧏🏽‍♀️

i sure do!

i think that if you fuck and he cums and you don’t, he doesn’t act insecure about it and leaves you hanging, but rather moves between your legs to finger you until you reach climax like the good boyfriend he is.

so it’s just him hovering over you, still sweaty and flushed in the face from your previous endeavors, intently studying your features for every reaction and looking at you with pure, endless love as he moves his fingers in and out of you at the pace that suits you most.

the cum that he’s spilled inside you earlier dribbles down his fingers and makes you glisten between your legs; it lets the circles that he gently rubs into your clit — after getting some help of finding it from you — run easier and stimulates you even further.

you’re both panting even if only you are on the receiving end this time. to be completely honest, you’re not even all that surprised by it, and that’s because you’re aware that pleasuring you pleasures him just the same. after all, he’s just so giving by nature. he’ll always try his best to make you feel good and to match the level of satisfaction that you bring him with your own actions in bed.

and it’s not like the entire thing doesn’t make him feel good as well. you reach out and wrap your arms around his neck and dig your fingers into his hair so that you can pull him close enough to kiss him, and he feels like he’s on cloud nine. the way your nails drag across his scalp and down the nape of his neck makes him want to shiver, it feels so fucking good.

he picks up his pace as your tongue glides over his front teeth, watches you arch your back when he pulls away slightly and a thin string of saliva breaks the contact between your mouths. his girl is so pretty, he thinks. full of his cum, fucking herself on his fingers, clinging onto him like your life depends on it because maybe it does — you love him that much, that’s for sure.

heat rises inside your tummy, it spills throughout your body and makes you close your eyes from how overwhelming it all is; all that love and stimulation he’s giving you. he’s there, talking you through it with a gentle, “there we go” and “you’re so pretty, you know that?” until your heart feels like it’ll burst from the genuine affection. christ, your pussy is so sticky; how on earth does he turn you on so much?

you eventually moan his name out when you finally break down, this content sigh of bliss accompanied with amazing, warm pleasure that sucks the air right out of your lungs, and he feels blood rushing south again at the sound, feels a new wave of arousal hazing his already fickle mind as you tug on his hair, grabbing firm fistfuls. it all brings his blood to a simmer once more.

so here he is, ready to go again, and here you are; mere putty in his hands because he’s so goddamn generous.

will either of you ever catch a break?

#i feel like he’d have loads of stamina lol #ANYWAYS HE’S SO CUTE AGHHHHH!!!!!!!#i love love love himmmm #biscuit mail #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuji x reader #yuji smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 11 months

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Hihi, love your writing. Just sending over a request for a male reader (could be ftm if you'd life) with Hobie Brown? So basically the reader is apart of the organisation too and is a spiderman (could be possibly like a rock and/or punk based spiderman, or something completely opposite it's up to you) and it's how he had met Hobie and how they got close? I can send more details over if you'd like, thanks!

Hobie Brown x Male reader

Headcanons

I couldnt find any gifs of hobie yet, so just have this one.

Spoilers for Across the Spiderverse I guess? Reader is a Juggalo because I like ICP lmao.

You were one of the Spidermen that stood out somewhat amongst every other spiderperson around. You suit was white and black and had Juggalo features painted on the face. You wore a baggy ICP t-shirt and black shorts, maybe even a jacket or battle vest covered in patches. You wore a pair of heavy boots as well, perfect for kicking ass.

Along with that you didn’t respect the machine, aka the people in charge, as much as everyone else. You liked fighting and busting fascist and racist heads, you didn’t get involved with cops, and you were stubborn like a mule. This resulted in Miguel hating you because you were so difficult, but you were one of the best, so he kept you around.

You really liked fighting, which could be seen in the claws you added to your gloves, the brass knuckles worked into your suit, or the hard covering on your knees perfect for kneeing people in the chin. Those were only the visible ones, but you had many other hidden gizmos. This made you a bit of an outcast amongst the spiderpeople, but you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anyone’s approval but your own.

When Hobie joined the organization, it had been for Gwen’s sake in the beginning, since he himself doesn’t care much for large organizations with one leader who makes all the decisions. He puts up with it though, since its his duty to be spiderman.

Color him intrigued when one day he, Gwen and Jessica are called to Miguel’s area. When they arrive, they first see Miguel pacing back and forth rubbing his temples in clear annoyance, and second, they see a spiderman perched on the wall with little respect in his posture, roasting Miguel from head to toe.

Hobie already liked you from just that, but when you jump down to introduce yourself and he sees the anti-capitalism and anti-cop patches on your jacket? He might have fallen in love.

You, Gwen and Hobie were sent on a mission together, and you and Hobie got along like a house on fire. Gwen joked about being a third wheel the entire time, but she was just entertained about how well you two got along.

Outside of missions Hobie and you hang out most of the time, jumping into each other’s dimensions and just spending time at the others place. Hobies place is as punk rock as you can imagine, with all his instruments and an organized mess going on.

Your place is more what you’d imagine from someone who listens to rap, hiphop and ICP. You got a lot of music, casettes, cds, anything you can imagine. Lotsa posters or homemade merch stapled to the wall, etc.

When Hobie and Gwen make their band, you are invited of course, you are the singer. You can rap up a storm and speak so fast its hard for them to keep up some days. Hobie won’t admit it for a while, but hearing you spit bars makes his heart flutter.

Gwen would tease the both of you for having a crush on the other, which you both deny, because you are both cool and having crushes isn’t cool.

Gwen jokes about you two being boyfriends after you accidentally wear each other’s vest after spending the night at Hobies’ place. You both just roll your eyes at her and roast her with no actual heat, just doing it how friends would do it.

You both start dating at some point, neither of you can pinpoint when. One day you two just find yourselves cuddling on your rundown patched up couch without your masks on, cuddling and kissing.

Neither of you ever actually ask if you are boyfriends now or not, because you both know you are. It takes a while for Gwen and Pavitr a while to realize you two are together, since you don’t actually act any different.

Its only when they see you pull up his mask and your own to kiss him before going on a mission that it clicks for the both of them. They both whine that neither of you actually told them you were together.

When the movie happens you peace out the same moment as Hobie, having stolen your own tech so you two can keep visiting each other even if you aren’t part of the organization anymore.

Neither of you were ever big parts of being part of it anyways and only stayed for each other and for your friends, but seeing how Miguel deals with the whole Miles situation, you agree you need to leave.

You work together to make the watch for Gwen so she can save Miles. You two might join her too if needed, especially you, because you will take any chance to knock Miguel on his ass, maybe knock out those cheesy fangs of his.

Like I said, you hate authority. And since Miguel is authority, you hate him. Hobie follows after you because hes whipped and loves you deeply, plus he knows you can get kinda careless at times, so he has to pull you outta trouble if he needs.

You are both so grossly whipped for each other, it makes Gwen and Pavitr gag, though its fake gagging. You share clothes, instruments. You do his eyeliner and paint his nails, he does your Juggalo face paint. He always makes sure to give you a big kiss, which just wipes the paint onto his lips too.

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narcissarina · 6 months

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𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.4ᴋ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs/ᴛᴀɢs: ɪɴsᴜʟᴛɪɴɢ ᴡᴏʀᴅs, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ, ᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ sᴇx, ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ᴀᴜ, ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ!sᴄᴀʀᴀ × ᴀʀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs, ғᴜᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs(?) ʀɪᴄʜᴅᴏᴍ!sᴄᴀʀᴀ, ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ(ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴠᴜʟɢᴀʀ ᴛᴏᴏ), ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴘʀᴀɪsᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ?, sʟᴏᴡʙᴜʀɴ?, ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ (ɪ sᴜᴄᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ sʀʀʏ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪғ ɪ ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ!!)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀs ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇғᴜʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ. ᴠɪsɪᴏɴs ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴄʜᴏɴs. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ, ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴛ sᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀɪᴅᴇɴs. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ɪɴᴅᴜsᴛʀʏ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʟᴅᴇsᴛ sᴏɴ; sᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜᴄʜᴇ ʀᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ᴡᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍɪᴇ, ʜᴇ ʜᴀs... ᴀ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪǫᴜᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇs ᴡᴇʀᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴜᴍʙʟᴇ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʜᴇ’s ғᴜʟʟ ᴏғ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴄᴋʏ. ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛs, sᴏ. ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴇsᴘɪᴛᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ? ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴏʀᴍ ʀᴏᴏᴍ?

ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ, ɪ ᴜsᴇ ʀᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ (ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴏɢᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɪ’s) ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ ᴇʀʀᴏʀs ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴇᴘs!!

There was another world of Teyvat that exist.

Where gods and visions were no longer needed, where everything become modern and everyone lives peacefully.

Where the dead lived and had a happy life.

Where what it felt like everyone live in the same continent of Teyvat.

Catalyst, swords, claymores, and bows no longer wield a purpose in this part of Teyvat—weapons no longer needed as it was replaced by advance weapons. Only meant to be use if you’re in position to use them.

In this side of Teyvat, you no longer need to fear the heavenly principles—fear the gods nor worship them or think of the visions.

Even the archons saw how Teyvat change over the course of hundreds of years, now that their people don’t need gods nor visions no more. They now live among human society and pretended that they aren’t archons—but one of them.

Maybe the this Teyvat you live in could differ than the old “Teyvat” that the elders use to tell?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The light of the sun illuminates to your room, how your alarm goes off to have your eyes flutter open and start your day anew. A yell was heard from downstairs kitchen, “y/n! Get up, hon.” The voice called.

You sat up, eyes half-lidded and still heavy. You stretched out your stiff muscles as a knock was heard from your door then your mother; still in a cooking apron stood from your door frame.

“Get up, dear.” Mother spoke as she knock on your door again, a little louder this time so you could hear. You can only reply with a tired groan giving your mother a thumbs up and rubbing your eyes gently.

“Pack your things, ok?” she reminded you, “and breakfast is ready, sweetheart. Come down and eat, all right?” she added before leaving your room and shutting your door.

Pacing out and blankly staring at the wall in front of you, you hop out of bed and start your day with showering first then packing your clothes for college. And maybe add some other things that can keep you entertained.

Art major, that’s right. You are an art student. The one who has poor posture every time you draw either traditionally on paper or in your digital tablet—that probably cost you more fortune.

You love to draw ever since you were little, probably at around the age of 5 or 6—well, everybody goes through that phrase right? Then when they came to age; they find new passion that suits them more and never touch paper and pencils again.

Well, that’s what you think anyways.

It doesn’t surprise your parents that you took art classes and art school in middle school, then now? Art major in the most well known college around Teyvat. It would take a while to get there even by car.

After getting done, your steps were light as you got down stairs and had your luggage’s ready. Your mom smiled as the two of you exchange a kiss on the cheek as a way to greet your mornings, “Morning, mom.” You greeted and sat down on a stool bar chair, resting both of your elbows in to the table while mom cooks your favorite breakfast.

There’s still time before mom drives you to college, “have you packed your necessaries, dear?” mom asked, you replied, your voice sounded like a murmur as you spoke. “yeah, I packed almost everything, mom.” You chuckle.

“alright then, sweetheart.” She sweetly smiled, turned off the stove—took a plate then happy place it down in front of you, what did mom cooked? The usual. Omelet with rice and French toast with jam. Yummy.

As you eat, mom hang her cooking apron at the fridge handle and let down her hair as she tidy up her attire. She breaks the silence as you eat, “So I heard that your…” she raised an eyebrow with a grin planted in her face, you rolled your eyes playfully in response. “Yeah, yeah. He’ll be there, alright.” You giggled and munch on your French toast with jam feeling.

“Do you know that the eldest son of the Raiden will be there to attend classes too?” Mom asked, fixing her blouse and skirt. Looks like she’s getting ready to get to work too.

The Raiden’s, that’s a name that you haven’t heard—no, even not familiar to you. All you hear, either in school or friend groups that the Raiden’s are insanely rich and owns a music industry. Hell, even the eldest son has a band that you… Well, surprisingly follow their band socials and listen to their music; 6reeze.

Neat band name, even though they all look like emo kids that hasn’t surpass their emo phase.

You were intrigued, “the eldest son, attending the same college as mine?” you ask to be sure, mom nods and turn around to have you look at her work attire.

“Yeah, and dear. How do I look?” She asked and gave a little twirl to showcase her proud look and attire, you smiled then finished your breakfast as you gave mom a double thumbs up. “You look great, mom.”

The two smiled as she gestures you to get up whilst she get her car keys, her jacket in hand and took your luggage’s too to have them inside the car. You followed along, chatted as the both of you got inside the car and continued sharing stories, your future even, then mom telling you how proud she is to you and how proud dad will be if he saw you, his baby girl all grown up and pursuing her dream.

He would’ve love seeing you stand in that stage, give your speech and throw your graduation hat in the air.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

“So…” mom starts, breaking the eerie silence throughout the ride as trees passes by your window seat, mom continued. “The raiden boy, the one that will be attending the same college as you.”

“What about him, mom?” you manage to mutter with a curious tone, tilting your head to your side as you listen to your moms words. “I heard he has… uhm…” she cleared her throat before continuing, “a rather, unique personality.” There was a pause in her sentence, unsure what she just meant by that.

“He can be, you know.”

“A jerk? I know mom, he has an ego and I don’t know why the internet love him about his bitch behavior.”

“y/n!” Mom called your name with a warning tone, “mind your language, young missy!” she pinch your side while looking out for the road. “owie!” you could only yelp and purse your lips to her direction, “I mean. It’s true that he has an ego and attitude.” You murmur under your breath.

“Don’t call him a bitch.” Mom shook her head, “but he is.” You groan, “y/n!”

“Fine, fine,” you laughed as mom continues to pinch and tickle your side, “I won’t call him a bitch, please mom! Eyes on the road!” you laughed as she just let out a sigh and smiled at you. You knew she couldn’t keep herself angry with you, you’re her angel. An angel that has a little wild and dark side, your tongue that has no remorse when it comes to speaking your mind. Yeah, an angel.

“I love you.” You confess and gave her your best puppy eyes that you know she could not resist. Mom let out a hum of an “aww” as the end of her lips tug a wide and wholesome smile, “I love you too, my baby boo.”

“Ew, what’s with that pet name.” you tease and giggle again, “I’m not going to buy you Starbucks.” Mom remarked as you plead for her forgiveness the whole ride.

The whole ride was filled with laughter and a strong bond between mother and daughter. You were glad that you have her as your mom, and your mom was glad that she has a daughter like you.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

It was huge, when I tell you huge. Huge, like really, really huge.

No wonder this college was well-known to over Teyvat. From what you heard from a friend—who also heard it from a friend. That not only it has a classy and massive inside, it also has a garden! Truly perfect to find yourself lost in endless inspiration, where you are surrounded with beautiful views.

They also give high class education, expect teachers be tight and extra strict. But overall! It was perfect! So perfect that you felt intimidated, just by the other looks of student, they all look… Expensively stylist and beautiful. Probably get themselves Starbucks like it’s in their daily lives.

Your mom assist your luggage’s as you are busy admiring how lovely and massive your college school is, “You already love it here, dear?” Mom let out a chuckle as she got a glimpse of your mouth agape and thinking you just saw the most jaw-dropping scene you have ever seen.

“The school view is great, honey, but do you mind helping your dear mommy?”

You turn around to face her, snap yourself back to Teyvat and hum a chuckle, “sorry, mom.” You apologize and lower your head to the ground, “I’d be lost in my own mind too if I’m attending to this kind of school too.” Mom admitted with a laugh as she took out one more luggage, “Let’s go.” She gestured as the both of you walk and talk then take flyers that’s been handing out.

You got in your dorm room, it was alright. Plain white walls and bed, luckily the school provides each students their own desk study in their own dorm room. “oh look! You got the first dip. Pick your bed, hun.” Mom spoke as she neatly tuck your luggage’s to the side as you inspect the beds and desk first.

“I’ll have the bed on the left.” You mutter and flop down, “set your things up before laying around, hm?” She clicked her tongue as she sat beside you, “I know you felt a little bit intimidated by the environment of the school and students here. But whenever you need me, I’m free to call and hun.” She pauses and brush your hair that’s been covering your face, “you’ll do great, I know it!” she encourages you and stood up from your bed.

You sat up with a smile, “I know, mom,” you hum, “thank you.” You smile as you stand up too to hug her goodbye, exchanging a kiss on the cheek before she bid farewell.

Now that she left, how about unpacking your things first and get some rest for the day? You too, are curious who’s going to be your roommate for today.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Everyone was busy in campus, playing and welcoming new students as they hand out flyers to promote their program nor club.

A smile in all of their faces, playful chattering in the background—everywhere you walk nor set sight to. There will be people either playing, giving out flyers and chattering.

And of course, this was suffocating for him.

Most of the crowd went silent as the boys steps out from their car, their instrument on their back as the boy with a medium-length dark green forest colored hair with a teal undertones. What’s more eye catchy is his golden irises with avian pupils, and a red eyeshadow. He also has a diamond marking on his forehead and he only held a drumstick rather than a big case of the instrument like the others.

He was the first one to step out, and he goes by the name; Xiao. His green tattoo almost visible because of the length of his sleeve, numerous fans adored his cold demeanor. As if it’s giving, cold prince vibes.

Murmur filled the air, quiet squeals and excited whispers were heard.

“Who are they again? 6reeze?”

“Holy moly, good archon! Aren’t they handsome?”

“I want Xiao’s autograph.”

“The main vocal is so pretty!”

Praises and compliments were in the air, all eyes on them as flashes of photographs were takes and only got it to stop the paparazzi’s to picture the boys is to block their view.

Venti, the main vocalist and main star attraction of the band.

Xiao, the drummer and fans favorite “cold prince.”

Kazuha, the bass guitarist. The calm and collected guy, who sets everyone’s needs and helps the groups rehearsals.

Aether, who plays the electric keyboard—he was also the main attraction of the band because of his gold long-braided hair. Just like Kazuha, he puts everyone’s needs and the “leader” of the group.

Heizou, the guitarist or ‘rhythm guitarist’ who provides the rhythmic pulse along the bass and drum. He’s playful and has a knack on charming his fans, he was described that he’s sweet and has a soothing voice.

And lastly, we have him.

Scaramouche, or Scara for short. The eldest son of the Raidens—wealthy, cunning, blunt, cocky, prideful, and the lead electric guitarist of the band. There was an… issue about his behavior a few years back, the issue died down and well. His mistakes were now covered up.

The six walk each by their side and chatted as some fans yelp and tried to get their attention, their bodyguards were preventing them from crashing themselves to either of the idols.

“God, this school is so suffocating.” The boy with dark purple hair complained, picking his ear to drown the noise of the fans.

“For you it is, but for all I know—we’ve got ourselves some club room reserved, we could rehearse there every after classes.” Venti spoke with enthusiasm, waving at the fans as they walk pass them.

“Aren’t they lovely?” Kazuha smiled, giving a fan an autograph as he spoke to the group with the same calm and soothing voice.

“lovely? More like a nuisance.” Scara rolled his eyes, annoyed by the same squeals and cheer whenever fans sees them—even if they just breath they’ll automatically say something idiotic, which he finds entertaining and laughable.

“Scara, watch that attitude. You’ll cause an issue again.” Aether warned and sigh, handing the paper and pen to the fan after giving his autograph to them. The boy with dark purple hair only rolled his eyes and click his tongue.

“How about we get our dorm room and key,” Xiao suggested, his voice hoarse and husky but when he speaks—it was flat and lacks emotion. Heizou second his suggestion.

They got their dorm number and keys.

“Me and Heizou are in a same room.” Kazuha shared and pocket his key, “hell, yeah..!” said Heizou, requesting a light high-five with Kazuha.

Aether nodded and check his list, “Ok, so. I’m with my sister, Heizou with Kazuha. Venti with Xiao…” he flips the paper back ‘n forth, “that leaves…” all eyes were on him.

“Scara. Separate room with someone.” Aether mutter low, but still heard, the dark purple haired boy scoff and groan.

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes, “I’m paired with a stranger. Great.” His tone filled with sarcasm and irritation, “so uhm. Whoever they are, please be nice to them? Have some remorse and don’t cause a scene like last time.” Aether let out a sigh with his parted lips, still letting out a small faint smile and tap his lead guitarists shoulder.

“whatever.”

“So, let’s all go to our room and call it a day? We still have packing to do.” Kazuha propose, “Me and Kazuha will go first.” Followed by Heizou as he tug the bassist away.

Aether wave them goodbye, Xiao nodded at them and left with Venti—which leaves him and Scara. The boy with golden braids cross his arms and let out a long sigh, “be good, ok?” he said and gave him direction on where his dorm is before leaving him last.

As he walk through the hallway, less crowds and few people murmuring; which he can clearly hear. He puts his earphones on, muffling the voices of the outside world as he make his way to the staircase. Getting lost in his own world, his earphone playing their band music. Something soothing and relaxing rather than the usual metal music they make.

Facing the door, he look down to see his dorm number to check if he’s in the right spot. Dorm 809; both his key and dorm plate sign has the same number.

Turning the knob, pushing the door open—his bag thud when he saw who’s his roommate is.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Setting up your easel in your desk, on your side of the bed. Finally finish unpacking and setting up your drawing on your bedside wall, organizing every pen and sketch pad inside the desk drawers and setting up your markers storage to store them in.

A heavy thud was heard from behind, a husky and hoarse voice spoke behind you.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” The male curse which surprises you, it was one hell of a greeting, a rude way to welcome your roomie don’t it?

You turn and met him eye to eye, his face filled with annoyances and disgust—as if he saw the most disgusting creature he laid eyes upon.

You could only tug a small smile from your lips and a small wave, you recognize him, of course you do! Scaramouche Raiden, the eldest son of the Raidens. The dickhead, asshole, bastard, a cocky hell of a guy.

He scoff, the side of his lip pulled up—rubbing it on your face how disgust he is to lay his eyes upon to someone not worthy sharing a room with him. “Of course, they’re going to pair me with a fucking girl.” He mutter, took his bags again and threw it on his side of the bed.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He clicks his tongue, and unpacks his things with anger and irritation. You could only stare and stand there, frozen like a statue, not knowing what to say or to do. When you are fucking paired with an asshole.

He first set his guitar on the side, took a pin or it’s just something sharp, you can’t tell. He punctured a fuckin’ hole in the fucking wall, what the fuck? You stare blankly, brows furrow together as if you too—silently judging him on what the fuck is he doing.

He then, took out his electric guitar; it was classy and aesthetically pleasing to the naked eye. Lavender and white colored, rounded corners, and his printed name and signature visible and readable even from a few distance.

The boy turn and face you with a raised brow, “name?” he asked, his tone flat and commanding.

“Pardon?”

“Are you stupid or just plain deaf?” his tone change to annoyances and irritation, his brow furrowing like yours—short-tempered, just like his height.

You tense a little, cleared your throat and maintain a small friendly smile as you told your name, his facial relaxing as he held his hand to offer a handshake. At least he still has some manners left in him.

Having second thoughts, hesitating whether to shake his hand. As if he deserves it, right? You shook his hand with yours, “Scara. Scaramouche Raiden.” He quickly removed his hand away from yours.

Then took a hand sanitizer and sanitize his hand, as if you were some kind of bacteria.

“You’re being rude, you know?” you grunt and scoff at him, “so what, princess? As if you’re the same level as me.” Scara bark back and scoffs, seeing you fold your arms against your chest with a frown on your face.

“You think highly of yourself, mister.” Emphasizing the word as if it was an insult. He scoffs and grin, stepping forward to you, “And what can you do about it, princess? Teach me a lesson or something? Fix me, change me?” he emphasized and mocks you, despite him being the average height, you too, were also short. Hell, even shorter than him, god damn it!

“That’s right.” He licks his upper teeth, showing off his ‘attractiveness’ as he lean down—meeting your eye level. “Shortie going to throw a mini tantrum?” he provokes, his finger pressing to your forehead as he gives it a few light and heavy taps before flicking it.

“God damn— Fuck you!”

“I’d like to see you try, princess.” You scoff at his word, pure disgust planted in your face. “Ew?” you gag and rolled your eyes, “That’s what your doctors first impression about you when your mom gave birth to you.” God damn this bitch has no remorse.

You could only frown as you can’t think of a comeback, you watch as he turns his back on you and continue unpacking his things sloppy and untidy. It looks like he’s in a rush, his smartwatch ding a notification. Fixing his posture, shifting his weight to his left and read the message.

You also received a notification message, it read; “Hey, I’m outside your school gate. Come meet me when you’re already free ;) XOXO”

A wide smile spread across your face after your read the message and stared at it for a few moment, “I’m out, going to rehearse.” Scara announced and took his electric guitar, “I’m going to enjoy toying with you, princess.” He added before leaving, a laugh got out from his lips, menacing and evil.

You roll your eyes and shrug your shoulders on what he said, toying with you? As if. You wouldn’t let yourself get bullied, no ma’am. You only set your mind on one thing.

Finally meeting your long distance boyfriend for the first time.

Last year you two only got a chance to meet up once, but now? Maybe every after school, you get to meet him outside the school gate. His school is only a few blocks away from yours, and his house is an easy walk too as his school and house were only near.

You hurry yourself and rushes to the school gate, panting and slightly sweating as you face him, “you okay?” he sweetly asked, god his voice was mellifluous.

You nodded in response and regain your composure, being all shy all of a sudden and not knowing what to say. You start to break the silence, “You come here often?”

He replied, “Yeah, I had a friend here. We always chat after his practice and hang out at a nearby café.”

Both of you continued talking, wasting hours sharing each others stories and how you aren’t familiar to most places here and how he share his experience here as well. Lost in both of your worlds, the outside world and back ground chattering began to muffle as you both lost in time and in each others presence.

Until it’s time to say each others goodbye, and tomorrow will be the first day your art class will start. You should probably draw something to present tomorrow, right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The door swung open, the cool breeze greeted him as if to welcome him in.

“There he is!” Venti playfully exclaimed, Aether then clasp his hand together, “6reeze, let’s all assemble and have our meeting finish and rehearse after.”

Seems like he’s the last one to enter the club room, Scara sat to a nearby window. Xiao leaning on the table then soon sat down on top of it, the boy with two braids; Venti, sat down to a chair—followed by Heizou and Kazuha.

The meeting starts like any other normal club, preparing each activities, what album nor music can they release next or maybe try something different than metal music.

But of course, this was just like any other “nonsense” meeting to him, as Scara sat by the window and listen to their leaders chattering, his gaze caught a glimpse of something outside—down there, as he fully took his gaze off of Aether and look down at the window.

“well, well. Look who we have here.” The dark purple haired boy grins at the sight, of you with your boyfriend, the view was very, very clear too.

“Ahem, Teyvat to Scara?” Aether called out as the lead guitarist, who’s been busy watching from afar. His gaze returned to the boy with golden hair, “mhm?” the lead guitarist raised an eyebrow. “Rehearsal today, does that sound good to you?”

“As in, now?”

“Yeah,” Aether nodded to his question, placing down the paper he has in his hand before going to his keyboard, “whenever all of you are ready.”

Scara took another quick glimpse, seeing how you and your lovely significant other bid farewell. He scoff and let out a chuckle, “this is going to be fun.” He mutter to himself, “what was that?” Xiao asked, seems like he heard what the lead guitarist said, “nothing.” The lead guitarist dismissed.

Little did he know, that Xiao caught a glimpse of the two of you too—how you and that other person touch and bid goodbye.

The two didn’t say anything, instead they got into their position—their respective stand as their music blast the room.

The lead guitarist couldn’t take his mind off of you and your significant other. How did he knew? Because no friend looks and touch that way. It’s pretty darn obvious to him.

Which it’ll be fun and entertaining for him.

The rehearsal finish at five sharp. The band bid their goodbyes and goes on their separate ways. Scara walks to the same hall and staircase to get to his dorm while looking down to his phone and checking for any messages or tea he could read.

Facing the door and turning the knob, he saw you sitting and working on your drawing, “Well, if it isn’t miss artist.” He starts and you ignored his remark.

“Why the cold shoulders?”

“I’m working something here, can’t you see or are you just blind?” you bark to him, he click his tongue and flop down to his side of bed. “What did your boyfriend left you a bad taste or something?” you froze in place, pencil down and your heart race.

“What?” he raised a brow, his hands on the back of his head as he relax in his bed. “You think I didn’t see you two being all lovely-dove? You know that some club rooms are close to the school gate,” he chuckle in the middle of his sentences then continues, “for all I know, not even a friend can look at someone like that.”

“And your point?” you asked as you held your breath, not knowing why. Why is he being a pest at your love life.

“He looks like he doesn’t belong here, comes from another college school correct?” you nodded at his question, not knowing why you answered to him truthfully. “He could be cheating on you, you know.” He grins.

You could only scoff at his accusations, “excuse you.” You stood up and goes up to his side of the room, “My boyfriend would never ever cheat on me. I trust him.”

“That trust blinds you,” he sat up and lean back to the head board of the bed, “seeing is better than believing.” He added and laughs, he truly enjoys toying you like this.

You were silent, dark thoughts crawling in your mind—what ifs and possible scenarios coming together, what if he’s right? You and your lover only saw each other once last year, what if your lover thinks your ugly and having a long distance relationship excuse him for cheating?

Your breathing becomes rapid, panic setting in and fear visible to your eyes, “but you know, I could be wrong though.” Scara laughed, he loves that face you made; terrified, anxiousness, doubt and fear settled in your face. He enjoys your reactions to his make-believe and evil remarks.

“God damn it, you are the worst roommate that anyone could ask for.” You hiss, took his pillow and harshly threw it at him, he could only laugh at your reaction—enjoying that his roommate is a softie and someone he could enjoy pestering.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Don’t be a pussy and fuck me yourself.” He grins, waiting for your comeback with his flirty remark.

You got to your bed and threw your mini octopus plushy at him, it’s expression ‘angry’ as you were hinting that you are mad at him. “Thanks,” he waves your lavender and black inside-out plush, “for safe keeping.” He laughs and it looks like that plush is now his.

How the tables have turned.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The next morning, in class, you put up your drawing—clipping it to your easel as you stood beside it. You saw other students creation, beautiful, detailed, realistic, imaginary. Their creativity are something else, and you felt you couldn’t match that.

You stand firmly as your art professor walks in, eyeing every each one of the artworks and their artists, he spoke; “There are rules of art, some find techniques and master it. But, today.” His voice deep and husky. “Let us set those rules aside, and want you guys to draw from the very core of your soul.” He added.

Students looks at him confuse, he then continued, his tone hinting playfulness and in a joking tone. “Well, to understand, can someone held their painting up and tear it?” he asked, then chuckle as he saw no one tear up their painti—

Rip.

Gasp from the students were heard, all eyes were on you—tearing up the drawing you did last night. Shock, from the male professors face, he steps forward to you, “y/n.” he called, “I was just joking, why would you tear up a beautiful drawing like that?” he asked, stress can be heard in his tone of voice.

He let out a sigh from his lips and still spread a smile, “Care to tear it once more?” you obliged to his request and tear it once more, “now, that wasn’t so hard. Wasn’t it?” he smiled and patted your head, you were praise by your art professor but he was a bit stress when you took his silly joke too literally.

“Let me introduce myself again, I am Zhongli. I’ll be your art professor fro this semester, so everybody grab their pencil and present something from your hearts content.”

Professor Zhongli was a professional in arts and ancient history of arts, he’s also a gentleman and a total opposite of him. He’s tall, has fair skin tone, amber-eyes with yellow diamond shaped pupils and red eyeliner on the lower lids of his eyes. His hair dark brown with a longer fringe on the right side of his face, he also has a rattail at the back. Then a golden brown tip that seems to glow a little, it’s eye-catchy and sometimes distracting when he turns his back and teaches.

The bell rang and class was dismissed, you made your way to the campus ground to find some inspiration, headphones in, blasting soft lo-fi music.

You stop your tracks when you saw one of the band members of 6reeze; Xiao, talking to professor Zhongli. Xiao also caught you standing there, he didn’t say anything and just wave at you. You wave back and gave him a smile, then a hand stop you.

“There you are..!” it’s a females voice, sounds like she’s been in a run to come and find you. You turned and face her, “oh hey, Kylie.” You greeted.

Kylie, your internet friend that you have finally met thanks to her attending to the same school as you.

“So..” she’s still catching her breath, she sure made a run for it. “w-… Where you heading?” she asked, taking a couple of deep breaths as her chest finally relax and so do her breathing.

“somewhere less crowded to take air and maybe find some inspiration for my next drawing,” you replied with a smile, she tagged along and clung to your left arm as the two of you walk out. You both talk about how different your major to hers, and ranted how you have an asshole of a roommate.

“ok, ok.” Kylie started and munch on her muffin, “you tore your drawing apart?” she asked again, to make sure for good measures. You nodded in response, letting your headphones rest on your neck as you doodle something in your sketchpad.

The both of you were sitting in the grass, you admiring the greenery of the school and sketching random trees. And your friend… munching and sharing her days how she missed you, and how she’s happy finally meeting you face to face. “You know there’s a café nearby here, let’s go there sometime.” She suggested, “my treat!” she added with enthusiasm hinted in her voice.

“By the way,” she leaned in and rest her head to your shoulder, clinging to your arm again as if you are her lover. “That roommate of yours, if I was in your shoe; I would’ve demand the principal to switch me a roommate.” She huffs, “guess who’ll I rather have a roommate?” Kylie asked with a grin.

“Nah. I already knew who.” You grinned.

“Tell me.”

“Xiao.”

The girl made a squeal, hugging your arm tight and kicking her feet as she goes on rambling on how ‘delusional’ she is for Xiao.

Then someone harshly bumped next to you two as they pass by.

“Hey, watch it, dickhead!” your friend curses at a certain boy and she gave him the middle finger. And of course, it was Scara.

“Get it? Dickhead?” your friend silently giggles, “because his haircut looks like a shape of a dick no? Not funny at all?” she made an ‘aww’ sound and purse her lips to you.

The boy with golden long braids yell, “Sorry!” from the distance, you took a glance at their direction and wave at them and gave them a thumbs up, saying it’s ok.

You felt another persons presence behind you, looking up to see Xiao towering over the two of you, his expression unreadable and his tone flat. “I apologize on our lead guitarist behalf.” He said and gave a slight bow to show that he’s genuine and respectful.

You can feel Kylies silent squealing as you stood up and she followed, “I’m Xiao, you probably already knew that but I rather keep it like this.” Xiao offer a hand to shake, you took it and said your name to him—he smiled. “And she is?” he points to your friend, before you could speak, she took Xiao’s hand to shake. You can almost sense she was trembling, “Kylie! I’m her friend.” She nervously shook his hand before Xiao removed his from her trembling hand, he nodded at her and turn to you again.

“Here, have a cupcake. Accept these for an apology for Scara’s behavior. Truly sorry for that.” His tone change to something genuine, as in he’s truly expressing how sorry he is for their lead guitarist behavior.

You and Kylie took a cupcake, “Thank you.” You smiled at him, “Is he also your roommate?” Xiao asked, you nodded. “I see, please don’t hesitate to tell us his reckless behavior nor is he bothering you and kept pestering you. We’ll deal with him.” And with that, the boy left to return to his band group.

“Good thing you didn’t embarrassed yourself.” You remark as you ate the cupcake Xiao gave to the two of you, “Good thing I didn’t said something stupid.” Kylie let out a huff and laughs.

“oh shit!” Kylie curse, munching her cupcake almost as if she’s eating it all in one bite, as she spoke—you couldn’t understand her when her mouth is fucking full. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.” You sigh, curious on why she’s in a panic.

She swallowed and hiccup, took your tumbler to drink some of your water. “Y-You..” she needs to catch her breathing first, “You have a boyfriend, right? Here? From another school and only a few blocks away?” questions over question was thrown at you, you could only nodded and watch her rummage through her phone.

Anxiety sets in, you don’t know what’s happening but you could feel your heart race. “When you haven’t arrived here yet,” Kylie starts, “I thought your boyfriend was a familiar lad, but he was the same person I saw a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks ago, before you got here?

Kylie showed you a bunch of photos, not edited, not Photoshop, it was legitimately real. You saw your lover in the picture, a girl clinging to his arm, the picture was a little blurry but you could tell that it was him. “here, I even filmed them to ask you if it’s your lover or it’s a different person.”

“no, no. That’s him alright.” You quickly replied, not even a second thought held on that. You took her phone and held it in your hand, you click play and watch the whole video.

The video shows you, your lover and the girl—the camera zooming in on them. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you are sure that the bastard in the video was your boyfriend. The fucking audacity, the girl was clinging into his arm and kissing his cheek—making you want to barf and vomit the cupcake you’re eating right now.

The video ended, it was only ten seconds long but you are sure that his predicament were right. “I have to go.” You told your friend as you finish eating your cupcake, putting away your sketchpad and pencils in your tote bag and bid goodbye to Kylie.

You heard her yell out, “Text me, ok!?” you gave her a thumbs up, noting that you’ll surely text her.

Tears were forming in your eyes, you tried holding them back but a tear fell from your cheek. You wall to the hallway, some people noticed you as you made a run for it—running away from them and running up the staircase to get to your shared dorm room with him.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Scara was on his desk, in his side of the room as he compose his part of the music they’re now currently working on. Headsets on to have the outside world muffled as tunes and relaxing music sets in—as he strum his finger against his electric guitar, if he finds the tune more fitting—he then will write it down, hence and repeat.

Bursting in your shared room was not something he expect, “Holy shit—” he cursed, headset almost fell to the floor and having his phone open and had his band on a video call. You startled him as he made a sound of relief from his lips, “holy shit, you could have at least knocked first.”

You ignored his remark, instead—you sat down to the edge of your bed, blankly staring down at the floor. He can see how your eyes were red and swollen, Venti's voice spoke to his headphone as it was on Bluetooth connected.

“Something wrong?” The vocalist asked Scara, the lead guitarist could only stare and watch you like a statue, you wouldn’t even budge or flinch.

He raised a finger to his phone and placed down his headset to his desk, “hey.” He called, but you ignored, “Teyvat to y/n?” he snaps his finger to get your attention.

Scara can hear whispers from his headset, he glared at his phone and sigh—he then stood up from his seat and walk towards to you, knelt down on one knee to meet your eye to his, “Teyvat to y/n.” he repeated, “your eyes are red,” he then stood up to squat as he took your chin to his fingertips, “look, I know something happened. Did I made you cry about something? Did I hit you and your friends shoulders too hard?” he threw questions at you, but his voice weren’t the same stern and irritating tone but rather low and soft as if he’s trying his best to understand you.

“You good?” he asked again, tears then started to rain from your cheeks again. “S-Shit. Look, princess. I d-did not want to make you cry, I-I’m sorry, o-ok?” he stammer, panic sets in him. He didn’t know why you were crying, but all he knew that he did not like it.

His Bluetooth suddenly got disconnected from his headset as voices of his band sets in the room, “Making a girl cry? Not cool, Scara.” “oh dear, what did you do?” “apologizing to her won’t do, beg for forgiveness. On your knees.” “Yeah, your mom wouldn’t like this. Can you stop her from crying and give comfort at least?”

“Could all of you shut the fuck up?” He snaps at his band members through the phone, “look, I suck at this. What happened? Tell me and stop crying.” He demands in a softest way possible, but it is still a demand.

You couldn’t form your words, couldn’t even form a sentence and you don’t know where to start. He can only make out a few sentences and words, but all he could make sense is that ‘his predicament were right.’

“So, you mean I was right, all along?” He confirms, you could only nod and weep. Scara slowly nods and turn his head to look at his band, they only gave him a peace sign and tell him, “you fucked up.” And hang up.

Scara let out a frustrated scoff and messes his hair up, then look down on you—still weeping and sniffling, trying to stop your tears.

It was a minute of silence, only the fan and your breaths were heard, he starts; “Look, I’m sorry. I was just joking, I didn’t mean it to be real, ok?” he apologized and scoot over next to you, his legs spread and his elbow resting to either of his thighs as he clasp his hands together and look at you.

You could only weep in response, not having the energy to say a word. He even got the most comfortable blanket wrapped around your shoulder as if he’s covering your whole body up, acting like you had a strong cold. “Ok, ok. Who’s this bastard again?” he asked and you didn’t give two shits about your cheater boyfriend no more and gave away his name.

“Ok, so the next time you meet him at the school gate. Bring me along.” He remarked and put his arm around you and placed you down to his lap, “comfortable?” he asked, you nodded as your eyes were red and swollen and eyelids were heavy.

“noted.” You manage to utter before fully shutting your eyes and feeling his embrace around you while in the most soft and comforting blanket. “alright, get some rest.” He sigh and had you cradle in his arms tonight.

A bit odd on how you find comfort in his touch, his presence, and even his voice as he starts to sing you lullaby to help you sleep faster. As if his mellifluous tone uttering the lyrics was too good not to hear nor miss. Deep within, you wish you could hear him sing you another time, as you seek comfort in both of his voice, and presence.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Strangely enough, you found yourself being in your roommates arms frequently. As if you’re seeking his presence and warmth against yours and even taking it far from borrowing one of his oversize hoodies and wear it as if it’s your own.

“what the fuck are you wearing?” Scara asked with a drink in his hand, as he points to the hoodie you’re wearing, “it’s that mine?”

“No, it’s now mine.” You snuggle and hug the hoodie you’re wearing close to your body, “it’s comfy.” You added and pulled the hood up.

“whatever.” He rolled his eyes and drank his can drink.

What’s more strange that he didn’t mind it, he didn’t mind that you’re being all too clingy to the point you find yourself waiting outside his club room to wait for their rehearsal to finish and drag him away because he “promise” to take you out as is it’s his treat. Even your own friend thought you’re being odd now.

“Hey girly!” Kylie greeted, waving and hopping towards you to greet you with a hug too. You could only hug back and greet with a happy hum, the girl then look at you then at the club room door. “Why are you being a by stander here all of a sudden?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

You didn’t answer, you only lay your head low and look at the ground while humming their songs, Kylie sigh and hangs out with you, standing for hours.

Then the boys finished, Scara slide the door open and steps out—only to glance down at you when he steps out, “What the fuck?” he cursed, you stopped your friend from saying a word and pulled Scara away.

Away from his band members, away from your friend and away from the crowd.

“Looks like they’ve grown close.” Xiao remarked, his presence only behind to Kylie, “yeah. Too close.” She frowns and sigh.

“Want to hang out with us?” Xiao asked the girl, the other members greeting her with a smile and filling the atmosphere with laugher and joy, “sure!”

So odd, that your friend, and his friends also suspect that something fishy is going on.

Venti cleared his throat as he sat on top of the table while Scara brush off some dust of his guitar, “so.” The main vocal starts, breaking the silence.

“You’re good at math right?”

“What about it?”

Venti enthusiastically grins and chuckle at your response, “Formally speaking; may I require your assistance in a simple math problem? I find your arithmetic intelligence quite intriguing my friend.”

“If it’s a simple math problem then go solve it yourself.”

“come on! It’s only one..” Venti frowns and whines at him, Scara could only roll his eyes and wave his hand to gesture, ‘ask away.’

Venti smiled and tap the table, “I shall provide you two-variable equation, my friend! You plus your adorbs roomie equals?”

“You seriously asking this bullshit?”

“Yes.”

“Cannot be.”

“Ouch?” Venti dramatically groan to the pain and fake a sob, “Oh how cruel of you! To have such an adorable roommate like that, it’s impossible to have the answer; cannot be!”

Funny enough, Kylie also asked you the same thing and you answered the same. But with a hint of doubt in your answer.

You have always seek his presence, warmth and mellifluous voice every chance you get. You were getting too comfortable with him to the point where you both share the same bed even though this dormitory has two bedroom for a reason. You find yourself in his bed or him in your bed.

Having a nightmare? Scared of the loud roar of thunders? Can’t sleep? Feeling uneasy? You will and always will find yourself standing up from your bed and going to his, snuggling close as if he’s your teddy bear or you his little bear.

“Why are you here again?” Scara asked, his tone tired and sleepy as he rub his eyes.

“I can’t sleep, I had a nightmare.” Scara clicked his tongue to your response as he groan, pulling you close to his chest and pressing his chin at the top of your head, “there. Now go to sleep.” he grumbled and pulled your body close to his.

This would happen every often, then before you know it. It’s now a normal routine for the both of you, hell even every morning there will be hugs and kisses for a way to greet good morning.

And little by little, day by day and even weeks had pass, little feelings began to crawl in. Pushing in their way to develop the chemistry between the music and art students.

But hey, it wasn’t so bad after all.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

How long has it been the moment you and him finally settle to your lifestyle like this? Three months? Or less than that?

You were rummaging in your drawer, looking for available comfy clothes but you can’t see one. You stood up and go over to Scara’s side and rummage through his things, “Really?” he scoff and squint his eyes to you.

You stick your tongue out and took his oversize hoodie, again. And wore it to your liking, it was pass your knees and you’re wearing a cat high-knee socks. It compliments the look.

Scara could only roll his eyes and lean back to his seat, you walk up to him and casually sat down to his lap—giving all your weigh to him and snuggling close to his warmth, “bitch.”

“you’re a bitch too.” You barked back and pinch his side as he jolt and flinch at the pain, “god damn it.”

You smile and kick your feet up as your phone dings a notification, Scara took it and read it with you as his hand were supporting your rear while you’re on his lap. The message read; “Hey, it’s been 3 months since the last time we met. Want to hang out today? Come meet me at your school gate ;) XOXO”

“Ew?” Scara scoff and place your phone down to his desk and spun around with his chair, moving around as if he’s giving you a mini roller-coaster ride.

“I have to meet him.” You remark.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Nah.”

You frown at his response and tries to kick your feet to move the chair back to his desk, “Nah uh.” He said, “Yah uh.” You responded, “You’re here with me, in my arms, in my embrace. So no.”

He push himself back and took your phone in his arm, “lay your head to my neck, I have an idea to have you avoiding that piece of shit.” You followed what he said and snuggle yourself close to him, your face covering up to his neck as he snap a picture—us his two hands to send and type; “Sorry, this little brat of a princess is busy cuddling with me. Also, not making an effort nor show yourself inside those 3 months, seriously? What kind of a dickhead of a boyfriend are you? Plus, I heard you cheated on this poor little brat, thanks for that. I’ll be taking over, and also. You look like a fucking pig that has been abandoned by your owner and was never loved by your mother, so that’s why you treat your partner like shit and took advantage of the long distance relationship so you could cheat. Disgusting imbecile.”

“What did you send to him?”

“None of your business.” He answered and stood up, cradling you in his arm as he lay your back against the soft fabric of the bed and puts all of his weight on top of you.

“Don’t worry, he won’t bother you no more and, I broke up with him for your behalf.” He informed and drown himself to your scent and chest. “small tits.” He remarked.

“says the one who has a small dick.”

“You haven’t even seen my size yet, princess.” He grins and pulled himself up and cage you in his bed. He leaned in and whisper into your ear, “want to me to make you my little slut in broad daylight?”

დ➳დ➳დ↴

You didn’t know how it happened, it just did.

You were in his lap, legs spread wide open, you mewling over and breathing softly as you felt your heart race. His fingers in between your folds, motioning in circle to tease your aching hole. He whispers degrading words next to your ear as he finally plunged in his middle finger in.

His left arm around your back, holding you close and supporting you so you wouldn’t fall over, this his hand around your side to held your tummy, strumming like it’s the string of his guitar. You were confuse but you could only mewl and let out a gasp when he began scissoring his fingers inside you—you didn’t even felt a second finger entering.

“There we go, such a needy hole you have.” He scoff and god, he’s spreading your tight walls so good. You arch your back and whimper at him, biting on to the fabric of his hoodie that you’re wearing. Your cunt clench around his fingers, he can feel it pulse and twitch, “You want more? What a whore.”

And there, inserting a third finger—you gasp and held on to his chest and thigh, panting and mewling as you tried to move your hips away from his fingers subconsciously. He plunges in and stayed still, “Stop moving, bitch.” He hiss and harshly thrust his fingers, spreading you out.

“Let me teach you how to play a guitar, hm?” he spoke next to your ear and starts to separate his fingers and pressing pressure inside of you, stretching you even more. You moan and gave shuddered breaths, tears forming in your eyes as you look up at him with those beautiful glassy half-lidded stare, begging him to do more.

“Feel this, this is E major and this is E minor.” He spread his fingers and pressed pressure inside your cunt, he felt it clench around his fingers—your back arching and you almost crying your moans on how it’s becoming too much and how you felt something warm inside your stomach.

“No, no. You’re not going to cum just yet, I haven’t finish teaching you all the basic chords.” He murmur, his brows furrow together and a sinister grin can be seen across his face. “I c-can’t help, ‘m going to c-cum..” you mutter, his fingers retreating and you mewl at the sudden emptiness as he snaps his three fingers back in.

Your eyes widen as tears rolled down from your cheeks and you muffled your scream as you felt your release, “Oh, I didn’t know you squirt.” Scara almost laugh at the sight, his gaze almost degrading and he looks like he’s plotting something evil.

As you let out broken gasp and trying to calm yourself from you high, you opened your eyes and saw him lay you down from your back—in his bed, as he position himself in between, “Look at the mess you’ve created in my bed,” he sigh and pulled you by your hip, pressing his hard length against your soaked cunt. “Such a needy slut, you don’t mind me using your hole as a toy for now, right?”

Your manage to frown at him, watching him pulling down his sweatpants and letting his length sprung free, his tip almost hitting his belly button and he sure is thick.

You mewl as he rub himself against your wet cunt, brushing his tip against your folds and pressing his slit to your clit—resulting him to hiss. God you’re sure he won’t be gentle with you.

He grabbed your thighs and motion you to wrap your legs around him as he press his tip to your entrance, “You’re loose enough, you can take me in one swift motion.” And with that, you felt like you’re being stretch apart by something thick when he thrust and bottom himself out to your cervix.

“God, fuck. Taking me well with this tight cunt you whore.” He hiss with a laugh, “oh, fuck so tight.” He moan as he pulls back and plunge himself deeper again, you almost moan aloud, the only thing that’s muffling you is you biting onto his blanket. Mewling and weeping on how good he’s stretching your cunt with his fat cock, every thrust you’ll shudder and clench around his length.

“Fuck, such a good slut.” He hiss again, finding his preferred pace—taking grasp of your thighs, pushing them back as he spread his legs wider to go much, much deeper.

He growls every thrust he make, he leans and pecks your neck and collarbone with sloppy kisses and bite marks—he couldn’t contain himself, he could not hold back.

You were already crying on how overstimulated you are, but he kept on going and singing either degrading words and praises in your ear. He’s even vocal with his moans, more like on grunts and growls, even his moans and grunts soothing like early birds in the morning.

You try to quiet yourself down to hear more of his mellifluous moans and grunts every time he plunges himself deeper inside you, but fail because on how good he’s fucking you stupid with his length.

Not that long, you felt your second release and squirt yourself in his cock. “That’s right, cum on my cock like a whore you are.” He chuckle and pecks you love bites more, and soon after, he chase his own high as he plunged himself deeper to release his seeds. Abusing your poor cervix.

He rides out most of his seeds, pushing his tip and not letting a drop go to waste before collapsing on top of you, not even thinking of pulling out.

“P-Pull out..” you mewl, “make me.” He replied as he wraps his arms around you and gave a few light thrust to have him hear your sweet melodic moans again.

You didn’t knew you’d even last, he has a really high sex drive and you did not know. He fucks you dumb all day, resulting not attending your classes that day as you beg and mewl for him to stop because you have class and that his band needed him, but he told you they not important right now. What’s important is him breeding out your sweet little cunt, but hey. At least you can hear him grunt and moan right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The two of you cuddle in each others arms, his back leaned over the wall and you in the center of his legs that’s been spread apart so you can lay your butt on the softness of the bed cushion. His chin on your shoulder as he taps you by your tummy while being covered in thick blanket, “mhm?” you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, fighting the urge to close them.

“I didn’t make it to your wall?” he raise a brow and pointed at your side of the room—at your wall, where you store up your paintings, “your friend and my band members made up to the wall, why didn’t I?” Scara growls and frowns at you, jealousy creeping in.

You shrug and rest your back to his front, head going to the crook of his neck as you mutter, “dunno.”

“I won’t be paying for your Starbucks.”

“you won’t do that.”

“Oh, yes I will.”

You huff and crawled out of his bed, limping as you walk to your bed and curled up like a ball there. He laughs at the sight as you flip him off with your middle finger and he could only laugh.

The following days were normal and sometimes chaotic whenever you and your friends hang out, your friend and well… Roommate hated each others guts and always yelling each others curses nor making you choose between them here on out. The school first semester almost brought to an year, and till next year—you will meet them again.

The band; 6reeze, had something in planned for all campus before going home to celebrate with their families, they posted their invitation on the school group,—inviting everyone to their performance before years semesters end.

It was crowded and many students cheer and yell as the boys got on stage, they got to their respective position and yell out to all of the students—bringing their attention to the stage, “Me and my friends put up a show before we all got home and reunite with our family, to celebrate the end of the schools semester.” Venti starts, “we hope you love it!”

Music blast and crowds went wild as they sing the song that they already knew, the student sang along and dances within the crowds.

You and your friend were watching them shine in that stage, even though they are already shining but seeing them perform live and in front makes it special. Then a new song kick in, this must be the song he talk about with you.

“Wait, I must go.” You told Kylie, “what? But it was just getting good..” she whines and you made your run with a smile on your face, waving her goodbye to the distance. Well, she can’t stop you doing what you’re going to do, right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The performance ended and other students bid their goodbyes as the boys got some time to autograph for some students who asked them.

The lead guitarist look around but no signs of you, must've miss the performance, perhaps? Scara look around and call out to a familiar girl, “Hey!” he yelled and walk up to her, “Where’s y/n?” he asked.

Kylie was talking to Xiao and taking a couples of pictures with him and taking his autograph, she turn to face the lead guitarist, “She was in a hurry, so I didn’t stop her from leaving.”

Scara sighs and nodded at her response, “thanks.” And left off.

Running in a hurry and passing by the same locker room in the same familiar hallway and running up to the same staircase where their shared room is.

Panting and sweating as he burst open through the door, “oh goodness!” you were startled and look at him in disbelief, “why are you in a rush?” You asked as you neatly pack your luggage’s, but what caught Scara’s attention was the big canva portrait that you hang up through the wall. He smiled and scoff.

“Looks like I made it to the wall, huh?”

You laugh and responded, “you sure did.”

The portrait shows the 6reeze members, but what’s eye-catchy about it is where you stand before it when watching the performance play, Scaramouche’s figure is bigger than most of the other members. Catching his figure and focusing on every detail when he plays his electric guitar as you could hear him sing along with his mellifluous voice with the vocalist.

The two of you only look at the painting you did up to the wall, admiring it and talking before leaving it there.

And hence, that’s how the story of an art and music person romances. It was lovely.

Because that was everything.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #scaramouche #genshin scara #scara x reader #scara x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche modern au #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x female reader #genshin x fem!reader smau #genshin x f!reader #genshin fluff

545 notes · View notes

tommydarlings · 7 months

Text

Sweet little angel | m.v

pairing: mean!dom!max x sub!reader

warnings: smut, possessive behaviour, chocking, dacryphilia, orgasm denial

w/c: 1.1k

summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t like the fact that you’re so nice and sweet to his rivals, so he shows you how good girls like you should get treated. (based off of this request!)

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“Wait! I pick it up for you!” You said with a wide smile before you jogged over to Daniel, quickly picking the cap he just dropped back up, kindly handing it to him.

Daniel flashed you his infamous smile, “Thank you y/n!” He said as he happily took the cap out of your small hands.

You only smiled before you noticed how your boyfriend — max, watched the two of you with dark eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he tilted his head and adjusted his own redbull cap before you walked over to you.

But before he was able to reach your standing figure in the redbull garage, Carlos suddenly stood by your side, unintentionally blocking max's way,

“Y/n, I’m so sorry to ask you that stupid question but could you maybe help me with the zipper here? I just can’t get it and maybe you can get it easier with your smaller fingers.”

You giggled and smiled before you bit your lip and focused on helping him with the zipper of his racing suit.

After a few attempts, you got it while standing so close to him as your small fingers worked on getting his racing suit zipped up, his chin almost touching the top of your head as he stared down at you.

“Here you go, Carlos,” you mumbled before you patted his chest, stepping away from him as he thanked you and went back to the Ferrari garage.

You turned around and quickly caught the gaze of your boyfriend simply standing there with his arms crossed, looking at you like a hunter looking at it's prey.

You furrowed your brows and gulped before you took slowly steif towards him, “Maxie, baby? What’s wrong?” You asked.

He raised his brows, “what’s wrong?” He asked in a quiet tone to not draw any attention to the two of you, “you’re seriously asking-, you know what?, c'mere,” he spat at you before he harshly grabbed your wrist and walked with you in a fast pace towards his drivers room.

You gasped as he basically threw you into the room, slamming the door behind him,

“Sit down,” he demanded as he pointed at the small couch in the room.

Nervously and with a confused expression, you sat down as you looked up at him with big eyes, playing with your fingers as he stared down into your eyes.

Max angrily bit his inner cheek, “you act so innocent, like an angel… but we both know you’re far from being an angel,” he quietly spat at you, making tears enter your eyes while you bit your lip, knee bouncing up and down as you removed your gaze from his intimating one.

You heard your boyfriend sigh, “Eyes. on. me,” he demanded in a deep tone, arms still crossed over his chest before you gulped and looked up at the redbull driver again.

“Sorry,” you apologised quietly with tears in your eyes, “Max, I’m-” but max cut you off, swiftly placing his hand on your cheeks, lightly squeezing them as he leaned forward,

“Sorry won’t fix it now,” max whispered with raised brows as your bottom lip slightly trembled, “It won’t,” he repeated quietly but deeply.

You gulped, “but what did I do wrong?” You dared to ask in a hush tone as his hand glided down your throat, roughly squeezing it as he heard your question.

“Oh no,” max mumbled with slightly furrowed brows, “is my pretty little angel so dumb? Doesn’t she know she’s done wrong, hmm?” He asked teasingly, other hand brushing some of your hair out of your face.

You gulped again and sniffled a couple of times before he caressed your now tears stained cheek, speaking up again,

“Guess I have to remind her, huh?”

- - -

You gasped and whined as max harshly thrusted into you, bending your legs so that your knees weee almost touching your ears as he secured his palms behind your head, forcing you to look up at him.

“You like t-that don’t you?” The Dutch driver asked you, nodding his head along his words as his thrust got faster, making your eyes roll unkt the back of your head, “knew you would like that — pretty little innocent looking angels like you always like the dirty stuff don’t they?” Max said in a quiet tone.

You only nodded as your whines got louder while he was busy with caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Tell me how good it feels, c‘mon,” he demanded with raised brows as he waited for you to speak up, after stuttering for a few seconds, you managed to say something,

“S-So good,” you wildly nodded as he still held your head in place, foreheads almost touching each other as he almost entirely removed himself from you before he thrusted himself back into you in a rough pace, “so good, g-god!” You shrieked.

Max licked his lips as he smirked, biting his inner cheek as he visibly bit back a laugh, “Yeah?” He said in a breathy undertone, making you nod.

You gasped before you answered, hands reaching up up to tightly get a hold of his wrists, “Y-Yeah,” you said in a high pitched tone, fingers squeezing his skin.

The young redbull driver looked down at your hands squeezing his wrists, quickly leaning down and giving your wrists a tiny peck before he whispered in your ear,

“Good girl don’t always get treated nicely, baby — you should know after being with me for almost a year already,” he told you before he surprisingly pulled out, still forcing you to bend your legs, not giving you the simple opportunity to close them and relief you from the pain.

“N-No!” You gasped before he let go of your head, letting you drop down onto the couch with a light thud as he stared down at you with the same dark eyes from before.

You threw your head back, “F-Fuck!,” you cursed in a breathy undertone as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting the tears roll down your heated cheeks.

Max leaned himself forward, softly running his mouth along your ear, letting his lips also run along the side of your neck a couple of times,

“Since when does my little angel curse, huh?” He smirked with slightly furrowed brows.

You were only able to gasp for air as he slowly laid your legs back down onto the couch and slowly placed his big hand around your throat again, lightly squeezing it as he looked down at you,

“Next time you’re being so nice to any of my rivals, I remind you right in front of them, got it?”

1K notes · View notes

ctrlchar · 3 months

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Jake Webber NSFW alphabet

a/n: for the oral section i wrote about him making you watch a movie while he eats you out and I love that concept sm i can’t and also there is a Johnnie alphabet coming soon as well🙏

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

absolutely loves aftercare,he always asks you if you need anything and if you do he’ll do it in a instant. he also gets you one of his oversized shirts and some of his boxers to change into so you can be comfortable

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself it’s his waist,he loves his tattoos that lead down to his crotch and that’s really it tbh,he just thinks he has a nice waist

on you it is 1000% your tits,he talks about tits in literally every video. he doesn’t care what they look like as long as he can squeeze them and leave kisses on them during sex

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

if your back is to him he likes to cum on your back or inside of you,he lives for watching his cum drip out of you just for him to finger it back into you

if you’re facing him then it doesn’t matter too much although he does like to cum on your tits but he’s not too specific on it

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

seeing his hands around you will literally make him cum on the spot,he just loves how possessive it is to physically hold onto you with his hands both in a sexual and non sexual manor

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s a very experienced guy,this means that he can tell what you do and don’t like very easily

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

he absolutely loves when you ride him,however he doesn’t like reverse cowgirl at all because obviously he can’t see your tits

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

100% he’s a very silly person and I think that carries over into the bedroom as well like I think this man might even go out of his way to make a joke during sex rather then just joking about something awkward happening

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I don’t think he really does anything to it honestly,maybe whenever he dates you he trims it up a little but he genuinely could not care less and the same goes for you he doesn’t care if you have hair or don’t

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Intimacy is not his strong suit,yes he can be intimate and yes he will be intimate it’s just not something he’s amazing at

however he will make sure you know that he wants you and not your body,this meaning he’ll probably tell you how much he loves you and how good you treat him while he’s inside you

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I don’t think he jerks of regularly only whenever he’s doing something and you’re not there or you are there but you’re busy and he doesn’t wanna seem like a dick by making you stop what your doing just so you can have sex

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

overstimulation-he absolutely loves to see you begging for him to let up his assault on your clit

his fingers prodded your tight hole for now 15 minutes,you had came what you think was 10 minutes ago but you weren’t sure and didn’t care for that matter as Jake continued to push his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. your hands reaching up for his hands in attempt to slow him down which he does for a moment “aw my pretty girl. you don’t really want me to stop hm?” he asks knowing the answer already since the two of you have had this discussion before

daycraphillia- seeing you cry might be his biggest turn on during sex. just watching you come undone because of his cock boosts his ego through the roof. especially when you’re in doggy style and he’s practically fucking your tears into the pillow below you

photos- he would love to take photos during sex if you let him. but not just photos of you,he feels as if he’s taking photos of you there should also be photos of himself. so usually he’ll take photos of you giving him head or even just his hard cock cumming on you. his favorite photos have to be when he’s fucking you from behind and your ass is right against his cock

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

he really likes doing it in his car. like man will never turn you down if you ask him to lay back his seat and fuck you in his car

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you in JUST his shirt no shorts underwear absolutely nothing other then his shirt

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing too extreme that would ever hurt you,his exception when it comes to impact play is choking and that’s about it.

he also doesn’t like the idea of sharing you,he doesn’t get jealous easily but the thought of someone seeing you do vulnerable is a huge turn off

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he gets super whiney and needy whenever you give him head. like bucking his hips down your throat needy

“f-fuck!” he moans arching his back against the wall. his hand now tightly gripping your hair as he tried to gain his composure and not start completely fucking your face. he starts to buck his hips up more and more subconsciously the closer he gets apologizing with each thrust “baby i’m sorry” “shit i can’t” “feels t-too good” he’d say bucking his hips into your mouth before eventually cumming down your throat

on the other hand he will give you head no matter what you’re doing. his favorite time to give you head is whenever you’re watching a movie with him and his head moves from resting on your chest from going to your clothed clit making you watch the movie as he eats you out

he also wraps his arms around your thighs when he goes down on you to make sure you’re as close to him as possible

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

I think he keeps a moderate pace but if you ask for him to go faster or slower he will. I feel like he thrusts rlly hard too if that makes sense

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

he likes them a little less then proper sex. only because there’s not much variety in quickies,like you have to work with what you have but during regular sex it’s up to you rather then your surroundings

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

this kinda goes back to N, the biggest risk he’ll take with you is having semi public sex but that’s it

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he can last pretty long honestly maybe like 4-5 rounds or so

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I think he used to own a fleshlight when he was younger (early 20s) but other then that no,if he saw you using a toy he would make you continue whatever it was you were doing while he watched you and maybe if he was really horny he’d jerk off with you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

hugeeeee tease.

the two of you were sitting at a booth during dinner,with two of your friends on the other side. Jake had his hand resting on your thigh which to most people simply looked like he was doing just that,but you and him both knew what he was doing. he had been rubbing his fingers along your inner thighs where he knew he had left bite marks and bruises. this resulted in a dull pain which went straight to your heat.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

other then whenever he’s getting head I think he just grunts a lot. like loud grunts each time he thrusts into you

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

loves watching threesome porn but he knows he would never do one because of how possessive he can get over you

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I think he has an average looking cock which is average in both girth and height

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I think it was pretty low before he met you. like if the chance presented himself he wouldn’t say no but he wouldn’t go out of his way to have sex. now he probably has sex about 3 times a week give or take

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he will either go to sleep within a few minutes or he will do the exact opposite and after he’s done making sure you’re okay he’ll lay with you and watch a movie while you either watch it with him or fall asleep in his arms

#smut #jake webber headcannons #jake and johnnie #jake webber drabble #jake webber fluff #jake webber x reader #jake webber smut #jake webber imagine #jake webber #jake webber alphabet #alphabet prompt

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sakasinterlude · 2 months

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your touch burns like fire, i love it | carlos sainz x fem!reader

a woman, a man, a frisky DM, and a hotel room.

nsfw 18+, no minors pls

a/n: my first piece of writing in a long time, so let me know what you think. its long. 5.1K words so enjoy!

When you decide to send a frisky DM, you are more mad than anything else, wanting to get back and show your ex, that you too can fuck whoever you want.

You lean against the wall of the elevator and place your head back on the cold steel of the wall. Its not exactly anxiety that you feel, rather than a sense of giddiness, or maybe your just horny.

The loud ding of the lift takes you out of your thoughts as your greeted by the elaborate designed carpet and shining chandelier. You were very familiar with the five-star hotel, at least from the outside, it’s on your daily commute to work but never did you have an opportunity to step inside, until now. This whole day came about after an a rather eventful month or so.

Your long-time boyfriend Brian was a sweet, caring, and thoughtful partner. You met at when you attended your roommate/best friends Christmas office party with her. Instead of being swept up in the boring accounting office chat, you were blushing in the corner at the sweet words of the handsome man in the navy suit. Things transpired quickly between the two of you as a few weeks into the New Year you were already official. There were never any glaring red flags, and you were content with the pace and terms of your relationship, often spending evenings in his swanky high-rise loft apartment. Some may say complacent, but you call it comfortable and reliable, which is more than you could say for any of the past relationships you had been in.

Things started to go left when he claimed to be swamped at work. For a week, okay understandable you thought, but for over a month, and including weekends? Something suspicious surely. With some whispers from your loyal friend and roommate, you learned of the name Laura, a bubbly blonde 21-year-old who was just hired to work at the front desk. On her first day she spilled coffee over some important papers and sweet Brian had been kind enough to show her how to use the photocopier and made googly eyes at her for the rest of the day. “He was definitely smitten!” according to office chat your roommate picked up on. On nights where you would sit in his apartment, alone, your mind couldn’t help but wonder to Laura, knocking on his office door asking Brian if he needed anything before she left for the night. You imagined your boyfriend’s eyes wondering up the secretary’s legs, finding a tight pencil skirt hugging her hips. His cheeks would blush at the scene, the two all alone in this big office, the dark sky outside the window hiding their secret. You tried your best to shake these thoughts out of you head, but it was only a matter of time before you couldn’t contain yourself. One Sunday morning, when Brian wasn’t “working” your eyes caught something on his phone and the opportunity to bring up these lingering feelings came up.

“You got text.” You call out to Brian, who was in the kitchen making the pair of you breakfast. Sweet Brian.

“What does it say?” He replied, he doesn’t even turn his attention from the stove, he must trust you.

“From the Laura, should I reply?” Passwords were shared between the two of you, so replying on behalf of the other was normal.

You see Brian’s head whip around, before he abandons the hot pan, walking quickly to retrieve his phone. “Nope, I got it sweetheart.” He is overcompensating with his smile and places a kiss on your forehead before grabbing his phone and going back to the stove. He must think you miss how red his face got, or the initial wide-eyed look he gave when you said her name.

Long story short, after breakfast a rare fight between the two of you ensued, where you called out his shady behaviour and questioned him about Laura.

“Are you crazy? I would never cheat on you!” he throws his hands in the air. After many mean names and yelling back and forth, it was Brian who suggests a break, claiming the stress from working and the lack of quality time spent was clearly straining the relationship. You don’t even verbally agree, too mad to even speak, just grabbing your bag and coat from the corridor before leaving his apartment.

You don’t return until a few weeks later, when you decide to show up unannounced to make amends. But of course, who was it who held the door open for you when you walk into his building early in the morning? A young blonde, who looked like she had herself a night, sporting the same messy post sex hair and neck hickeys you once did. She shot you a small smile before complimenting your coat, of course Laura is sweet too. You don’t even make it inside, that was all the evidence you needed to know that Brian and this relationship was not worth saving.

You spent the week crying in bed, thinking of the wasted years you spent on this stupid relationship. Your roommate encourages you to get out in the world again, don’t let Brian win. That plus a bottle of wine, led you to DM Carlos Sainz on Instagram. When you decide to send the frisky message, you are more mad than anything else, wanting to get back at Brian and show him you too can fuck whoever you want. With that being said, it helped that that someone was insanely good looking. To say you were shocked to get a reply the next day was an understatement, but after a few messages back and forth, you received a time and hotel room number to meet Carlos that Saturday.

You readjust your dress straps as you count the door numbers around you. What exactly does one wear to a one-night stand, especially with a famous person? You settle for a mid-thigh length sun dress and sandals, causal enough you thought. 708 reads the door, but you can’t bring yourself to raise your hand to knock. Sure, you had slept with people other than Brian but never like this. Meeting online, random hotel room, not even a date before where you both play coy to the acts that will take place later that night. The sound of the elevator down the hall brings you back and before you can second guess, your fists meet the door, and you wait.

Carlos Sainz opens the door quickly; you hope he wasn’t watching you standing there through the peephole. He is even better looking in real life than on Instagram, if that’s even possible. Beautiful tan skin, slight beard, strong manly jawline and the most effortless soft looking hair. Its wet, he must have just showered, which explains why he has no shirt on. Oh my god. You meet his eyes as he has caught you staring.

“Hi.” He says it softly, giving a warm smile at the end. You give him the same smile back, not trusting your voice, accepting his outstretched hand inside the hotel room.

You stare out the window, looking down below, everything looks so small from here. Carlos left you in the bedroom, claiming he had to take a phone call in the living room. You didn’t even know hotels rooms came with multiple sections and rooms inside. The anticipation is killing you as now as it is definitely horniness you feel rather than anxiety.

You feel a gentle hand meet your waist; you turn to face Carlos.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He says sheepishly. “It was a work call.”

“No problem.” You both gaze into each other’s eyes, his hand is still on your waist. “You know,” He takes a step forward, “You’re even prettier in real life.”

You can’t help but blush, turning your head away from his gaze. His fresh cologne scent is all around you now, leaving you flustered.

“I mean it, cariño.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and takes another step closer, your only inches apart now. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes, they are so brown, and so warm, like chocolate or the perfect cup of coffee with cream or lik-

Before you can even comprehend your kissing him, and he’s kissing you. Those big firm hands of his run from your face, down to your shoulder pulling you flush on his chest. Your body feels on fire in the best possible way, his presence is everywhere now. His two hands go from your shoulders then neck, then under your jaw, sitting right under your ears, cradling your face, leaning down to kiss you. His lips are so soft but firm in the way they dominate and take control kissing you.

“On the bed,” A firm slap on your ass jolts you up, “Now.” Carlos turns to watch you waltz towards the large king-sized bed in the middle of the room. You crawl into the center of the bed, before turning and facing him with a sweet smile, sitting on the bed. You wonder where all this confidence came from.

Carlos saunters over to you, with an expression you couldn’t really read, his eyes a slightly darker shade of brown. He reaches the foot of the bed and just stares at you, stares. It doesn’t intimidate you, in fact it fires you up, yearning for his touch again. Like he read your mind, he grabs your right ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You let out a squeal, taken aback from his movement. Now on your back, with his hand still on your foot, he crawled up your body, meeting eyes once again.

His lips ghost over yours, waiting, coming closer, then pulling away slightly. He takes his pointer finger from your ankle, and slowly runs it up your leg, leaving goosebumps in its path. Everything on your body is tingling and buzzing at every little movement he makes.

His fingers slide right up your leg, under your dress, stopping at your underwear. Still holding that intense eye contact, Carlos pulls your thong right down. Your jaw is slack at the action, which makes Carlos smirk, knowing he has you now.

Then the assault on your thighs begins, as Carlos leaves kisses and little nips on both outspread legs, ignoring where you want him the most. The feeling makes your back arch and your breathing hitch with anticipation. His teasing continues for some time, as your hands find his locks, enjoying the soft fluffy texture. You almost don’t notice the halt in movement, as Carlos’ eyes bore into your from between your legs. Slowly he moves closer, and closer to your center. Holding that same eye contact, he licks one long stripe up your pussy. You hiss at the sensation. Again, he repeats his movements, keeping the same slow pace, making you itch for more.

“Carlos,” You whine out softly, turning your head into the comforter, not being able to handle the scene below. The wait comes to an end as Carlos places a kiss right on your clit, before sucking the sensitive bud right between his two lips creating sucking sound in the progress.

“Fuck!” You yelp louder than intended but you couldn’t help it. The sounds of his moans, your moans, the sucking, and the licking were combining to send your mind into overdrive, no thoughts at all. Carlos takes your body language positively, starting to become very enthusiastic below, spreading your legs even wider and picking up the pace. The better it feels, the more you moan, the more it encourages Carlos. The cycle is vicious.

Your hands tightly grip the comforter beneath you, needing somewhere to release your distress, somewhere to allow you to keep holding on to this moment.

“Yes, Carlos! Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” The chant and shortness of breath brings Carlos to create moans of his own, leaving a satisfying mumming vibration to your clit.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He pulls back to swipe the pads of his fingers roughly back and forth on your clit, creating a slew of wetness everywhere. The sounds are downright nasty, as Carlos returns to sucking on your clit.

“Please! Please let me come!” You cry out, the world around you slipping away, as all you can think of is the feeling between your legs. Your cries bring a cocky smirk to his face, loving seeing you squirm, twist, and yelp out in ecstasy.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” Carlos asks, taking two long and thick fingers right into your pussy, slipping in easily. With the first thrust, your shocked at how deep inside you he goes. It’s only two fingers but you feel stuffed. Your mouth is left a gape, eyes rolled back, with the faintest whine escaping your mouth. The feeling is too much to describe so good, but so bad and you didn’t want it to stop.

“Fuck! Yes, hm, I want it so bad, please let me-“ His fingers curling literally leave you speechless as you can’t even continue your desperate pleas. Finally, the feeling hits you so hard your body stiffens in delight. Carlos takes his slender fingers and beings pumping in and out of you. There is no slow build up, just constant penetration as he shows no mercy on you.

You yelp out in pleasure as you cum all over Carlos’ fingers and drip on to the comforter below. He is relentless though, as he continues pumping in and out of you, enjoying watching your toes curl in pleasure.

Your orgasm runs through your whole body, leaving you tingling. Considering the fact that it had been a while, coupled with the beautiful man whose mouth is still attached to your clit, you were more than pleased. All that was left was the quiet hums as you came down from your high, and the rough hands of Carlos running down the inside of your legs and playing with your fucked out pussy.

“Hey, enough!” You playfully scold, turning to the side, bringing your legs together. The overstimulation is killing you in the best way possible.

“You look good like this, cariño.” He is kneeling in between your legs, staring down at your twisted naked body and the wet crumbled sheets. Fuck, your beautiful he thought. “Now be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me.” He says with a light tap on your thigh.

You do as he says, slowly but surely, flipping over to a doggy position facing the headboard. A sharp slap to your ass jolts you up, surely leaving a red imprint, but the string leaves an oddly pleasant feeling making you hum in pleasure. Carlos could touch you anywhere tonight and you would probably enjoy it.

“Again.” You say, confidence once again taking over making you bold enough to call the shots. He complies, taking his large palm and beating it against your ass, this time harder. You gasp in pleasure.

“So, she likes to get spanked, huh?” Carlos asks, rubbing the sore red mark already forming. You hum in agreeance, sticking you ass out, rubbing ever so slightly on his bare thighs. You hadn’t even noticed him discarding his clothes.

“But does she like this?” The question makes you ponder for a second, then you feel it. The weight gives it away, and then the feeling of something long and big dropped between your ass cheeks. You had suspicions that Carlos would be a well-endowed man and you were correct. You turn your head to get a good look at his cock. Neatly trimmed, good length, and definitely girthy, you were in for it.

“Fucking hell Carlos.”

He looks down at you with a smirk, taking his eyes away from his nimble fingers rolling on a condom. He leans down over your shoulder, gets right in your face, and places a kiss on your lips. You can still taste yourself on his tongue. Before you can really get into it, he pulls away.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, just like you asked me to, cariño.” He says sexily, looking right into your eyes, alluding to the direct message that began this all. You just hope you could handle it all.

Turns out you could handle it all. Well, just barely technically speaking. Carlos relentlessly pounded into you, causing your body to bounce with force into the mattress. There was a pillow placed just under your hips, slightly elevating your body, giving the perfect angle for Carlos. The arch in your back stayed, but your face? Buried into the white comforter below, surely leaving makeup residue from the force but also the tears that fall one by one from your tightly shut eyes.

Was it rough, was it nasty? Yes, and you fucking loved the feeling, relishing in the violent nature of Carlos’ thrusts. He used his big hands to tightly wrap around your waist, using you as leverage for his thrusts. He loved the sight of his large hands being almost dwarfed by the size of your ass, as he watched his cock enter in and out of you. Together your arousal made for great lube as Carlos moved with ease through your pussy.

The sounds are what really got you though. With doggy style came the infamous sound of skin on skin colliding. It was so rough, and loud, you don’t even feel sympathy for the neighbors next door for the constant sound of the rocking headboard. Lastly, the dirty talk. Carlos exsuded masculinity in every sense including his voice. The deep tone, the vulgar language all enough to make your feet curl.

“Fuck bella! What a pretty pussy.”

“You take me so well, I can feel you squeezing me!”

“Louder baby! I want to hear you beg for it.”

You could feel the beginnings of your orgasm start to creep up on you. The knot in your stomach, the tingling sensation all over, it leaves your jaw slack as you beg the man above you to finish the job.

“Please Carlos! It’s so fucking good.” You draw out in pleasure. “I want to come please!”

“Make yourself come on my cock, princesa.” With that his thrust halted, leaving you shocked for a moment. “Come on, you know what to do.” A light tap on your hips signaled you back against his cock. You repeated the movement, using your hands to guide your ass back onto his waiting cock. The feeling is just as good as before, maybe even better as you could control the pace, opting to go quickly in, then slowing down the exit. This allows you to really feel his length and girth slipping in and out of you sinfully.

“Good fucking girl, just like that. Keep going.” His voice is lighter now, just above a whisper, relishing in the pleasure below him.

You take his words as encouragement, squeezing yourself around his cock, drawing out moans from the both of you. It’s as if you could feel all the veins and lines on his member the way you were so tightly stuffed. His slight curve being the final nail in the metaphorical coffin that sent you over the edge, meeting perfectly with your g-spot.

“Fuccckkk!”

You call out in pleasure, followed by screams you could barely contain, even if you wanted. The orgasm hits you hard, leaving you tingling all over. You fell flat onto the mattress, unable to hold up your own weight anymore. That didn’t stop Carlos from placing his hands by either side of your head, lining himself back up with your entrance and plowing into you at a ridiculous pace. How he found the energy, you had no idea.

Carlos let out his own obscene sounds, closer to grunts, almost an animalistic moan, being encouraged by the way your ass bounced in response. It would surely leave a mark tomorrow. He spilled the last bits of his cum into you, finishing with one big thrust before laying half of his body weight on you.

It was now that you realized the eery quietness of the bedroom, only the sound of the AC blowing and the heavy breathing of the two of you filling the space. Both you and Carlos’ chest rise and fall in unison.

“Fuck.” He says breathlessly after a few moments. He runs his large hands over your face from behind you, brushing your hair out of the way before kissing your temple, cheek, then shoulder resting his head on your spine before removing himself from you. You both hiss at the sensation. Carlos flops onto his back right beside you, hands resting on his stomach with his eyes closed, attempting to catch his breath.

“You are something else, cariño.” He mumbles, turning his head slightly to peak one eye at you with a smirk.

You gave him a grin of satisfaction back before pushing yourself on your knees crawling to the edge of the bed, then kneeling on the floor.

“You have seen anything yet.” You say sultrily, tucking your hair behind you ears staring right at your prize between his legs. This gets Carlos’ attention, as he sits up slightly look at your doe eyes peering back at him.

“Fuck me.” Carlos was in for it.

So, there you were, perched on your knees, staring up at the beautiful man, slowly stroking him, up and down with the lightest touches, twisting your wrists. It was a sight for sore eyes, as Carlos leaned back on the bed slightly, eyes fixated back at you. He kept his hands resting on the mattress.

“Do you know how fucking pretty you are, bella?” He asks licking his lips and staring back down at you with a slack jaw.

You smiled in reply, humming around the head of his cock, as you brought it close to your mouth. You begin to tease him with your movements, tapping his tip around your mouth, on your cheek, never bring in inside though. You could tell this was rattling Carlos, as his ankles fidgeted and bounced by your thighs, as he tried to put his focus anywhere else in anticipation.

“C’mon princessa, you’re killing me.” He whines up above you. The pinched brow and wanting brown eyes make Carlos look so fucking sexy, as he is literally begging you to suck his cock.

“How bad do you want it though, hm?” You ask in a mocking tone, trying to supress a giggle from escaping. He tosses his head back in remembrance of those same words he uttered to your earlier. “Karma,” he whispers under his breath.

“You know how bad I want it. You can see how bad I want it.” He crocks out, alluding to the red, erect, hard cock of his being the kitten licked by you. Little drips of precum escape out from his tip, it pulls a groan out of the two of you. Both sets of eyes are locked in on the milky white bead of cum running down the tip. You lick it up before it reaches halfway down. Carlos is staring back at you in awe, with those pleading eyes, begging you to do something, anything really. You decide to put in him out of his misery and let out a thick string of saliva before lowering your mouth on his cock.

“Fuck!” He moans out loud. The sudden movements makes him sit up from his previous lounged position. You pick a steady pace, moving up and down fast, knowing Carlos had been teased enough. You suck up and down, as it doesn’t take much for him to reach the back of your throat. It causes you to slightly gag, but you continue. Dirty noises of wetness, gagging, and slurping make you rub your thighs together below. The tempo caused your hair to flow down towards your face. Carlos used his big hands to wipe your vision clear, holding your hair at the back of your head.

“There you go, just like that baby, fuck!” He draws out. The constant hums, whines, and moans from Carlos do wonders for your confidence as you wonder when you were ever nervous. You can tell he is really enjoying it based on the veins straining his face and arms.

“You taste so fucking good.” You hum, removing him from your mouth, using one hand to massage his balls. You sit back on your heels admiring the beautiful man in front of you. You give him a sinful smile.

Carlos looks spent above you, hair all tussled, sweat slicked all across his body, chest huffing up and down. He takes his cock into his hand rubbing the tip across your swollen lips, tapping it a couple times on your waiting tongue.

“C’mon baby, finish me off.” He grunts out.

And you do just that.

You take a deep breath before taking his whole cock down the back of your throat in one go. An animalistic groan comes from Carlos, but you keep going. You hollow your cheeks around him, sucking with some force up and down. Your force yourself to look up, making eye contact with Carlos as you can tell he is very close now. Removing your lips from his length, you take him into your palm, stroking him up and down.

“Fuck, princesa!” He cussing out loudly, but neither of you really cared.

“I want you to finish on my face.” You say calmly, holding eye with Carlos, above you.

“What?” He whimpers out, face softening. There is no way he heard you correctly.

“You heard me. Cum all over my face, baby.” Your eyes bore into his, becoming wide and pleading for the unimaginable. And who was Carlos to deny you.

He lets out a string of expletives as your wrist work quickly on his shaft, up and down, adding spit for good measure. At this point, Carlos’ whole body is stiff and strained, as he approaches his climax. He forcefully uses one hand to grip the back of your head, the other to take over stroking his cock. You close your eyes and purse your lips together waiting.

“Oh my god-shi-fuckkkk!”

You feel the warm liquid, spilling all along your forehead and down to your lips. It’s a heavy load, as Carlos uses his strong hands to direct your head around, making sure not to miss a spot. He groans out as he works on his masterpiece on your face, squeezing at his cock. You stick your tongue out for effect, tasting his sweet cum. Finally, the act ends, as your eyes are still close and Carlos pants above you.

As much as you want to soak in the moment, the thought comes back in your head, reminding you. You pat on the ground around you feeling for your phone that you slipped in preparation for this moment. Feeling the cold case on your left side, you flip it over, before handing it to Carlos on his lap.

“Take a photo of me.”

There is a moment of silence, as Carlos is actually shocked.

“God, who knew you were such a little slut, huh?” He replies with a chuckle, before taking your phone and pressing the camera icon on the bottom right. You feel him shuffle around for a moment, before the bright flash of your phone shines on your face. Carlos snaps several photos, getting different angles, as you stick your tongue out letting some cum drip down, even peaking one eye open. He tries to move quickly, before placing your phone back on the bed, and jogging to the bathroom. Your still on your knees waiting for him when he come back with a warm towel that he runs along your face and hair.

“Okay, I think I got it all.” He mumbles quickly, pushing some damp baby hairs behind your ear. You finally lock eyes, and you give him a sweet smile before leaning up to kiss him, which he gladly accepts. He cradles your jaw and tongue kisses you so hard you feel dizzy.

“Thank you.” You say sincerely looking at him in the eyes, after pulling away. You rub his hand that rests on his thigh.

This brings a laugh and confused frown to the Spaniards face. “For what? I should be the one thanking you.”

“I’m thanking you for ruining me.” You say seductively. You watch as his eyes go wide, before returning his signature smirk at you.

Carlos almost does not recognize you now, as he would have never accepted this confident, strong, sexy behaviour from the shy woman who walked through his hotel door a few hours ago.

“So, what exactly are you gonna do with those photos huh?” The pair of you are now cuddle up in the large king size bed, your leg draped over his middle, naked bodies intertwined. “Saving them in a spank bank for later?” Carlos jokes, he squeezes your shoulder in a playful manner.

In the events after, you both headed for the lavish bathroom, adorned with the largest shower you have ever seen. There are all kinds of buttons and settings, even a touch screen to activate the steam. But you and Carlos stayed busy, going one more round in the shower for good measure. He had you pinned against the wall with your leg wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you.

The mood is much lighter now, as you lay together, the TV playing a random sitcom as you make light conversation.

“No, actually.” You start, a light blush starts to creep up your face. “My ex-boyfriend invited me over tonight at 8, his place.” You use this time to glance at clock above the TV, you still have a couple hours to spare.

“He is cooking me dinner, my favourite. He thinks we’re getting back together.” You say with a little chuckle. Carlos looks amused, as he tries to fight back a smirk.

“Little does he know I have a surprise of my own.” You reach for your phone that’s tossed somewhere beside you. Taping the screen your phone comes alive displaying the image taken just moments ago as your new lockscreen. A break of laughter causes Carlos to almost sit up, as his hand flies to his jaw in shock.

“Oh my god.” That’s all he can say really.

It was difficult to pick just one of the sexy pictures Carlos had taken. But you settle for one in which your face is covered in cum, tongue hanging out catching the residue. If you look closely, you can spot your right hand stuck in between your thighs.

“He was a terrible boyfriend, but makes great steak unfortunately.”

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz fanfic #my writing

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lemmetreatya · 11 months

Text

Maybe It’s Foreboding (Or Not) — Miguel x fem!Reader

word count: 1.9k

content: no extreme warnings, modern au, fem!reader, reader uses female pronouns, reader commutes to work by train, reader knows basic spanish, hc that miguel speaks both irish and spanish — and that he’s irish on his father’s side (idk if this is correct or not), use of petnames, id say miguel is a bit ooc — but hes not — he just doesn’t have all that canon trauma going on sjsksk

FINALLY DID SOMETHING OF GOOD QUALITY FOR ONCE????? had to get back on my shit yktfv!!! also psa for the translations — i do not speak fluent spanish and not a lick of irish so please!! if there’s anything incorrect/needs changing, dont be afraid to tell me!! hope you enjoy ❤️❤️

Your usual commute to work was barely ever eventful. It mostly consisted of you getting onto your train — hoping you’d get a seat — and feeling despondent every time you noticed no seats were available.

Which was expected: You had to use a busy train in order to get to work on time. Any earlier and you’d have to wonder around your office’s surroundings to waste time and any later would have you clocking in late.

This timed train was so much more convenient for pace but it just never granted you those graceful minutes to sit down.

But alas, you stuck with it, because what else was there to complain about? The trains weren’t too full so it didn’t mean you were squashed like packed sardines and it was relatively quiet due to most passengers being too mellow at this time of morning to make any lucrative noise.

“Sorry, Miss.”

At first, you ignored the deep sounding words, assuming they could have been for anyone. But then a soft tap bounced just over your thigh and so you looked down to see what the disturbance was.

Looking up at you was a man with focused eyes. He wore a plain black suit with matching trousers. His white shirt had two buttons undone and he wore no tie. You couldn’t help but noticed how tossled his hair was. Clearly he was on his way to some type of occupation.

“Would you like to sit down?” He asks.

“Oh! I…”

You lean off from the pole you were supporting yourself on and adjust your bag on your soldier. Maybe this man was pitying you because you looked tired. You honestly weren’t and were genuinely just being comfortable, but you guess your lax composure compelled this reaction from him.

“No. Sorry, I was just being lazy. I’m fine, you don’t need to give up your seat for me.”

You shake your head and deny his request but the man continually persists. He was already starting to get up from his seat.

“No, en serio, sit.” He moved his briefcase over with his foot. “Can’t have a pretty lady like you standing now, can we?”

And it’s not like you agreed; Flattery of any kind from a stranger was always met with caution, but concerning he was going out of his way to give you a seat, you guess it’d be rude to deny it.

“Oh…How kind.” You stagnantly laugh.

The man took your place from before, now standing over you as he held onto the pole. He placed his briefcase between his feet. As you finally sit down and change your bag from your arm to your lap, you look up at the man with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

He only smiles at you acutely before offering you a curt nod. That was the only interaction you had the whole ride before you got off at your stop and made your way to work.

The next time you see the man isn’t until two days after the first ordeal and towards the end of the week.

He sees you before you see him, regarding he boarded the train sometime before you, and instantly flags you over.

“Miss!”

Weirdly, his call made you smile, and you pot on over, not expecting much.

“You really don’t have to.” You try as he gets up and out of his seat. He’s however already shaking his head.

“Don’t be silly. I already told you why you do so I don’t wanna hear anymore complaining.”

With rolled lips, you nod as you meekly sit down. Having an abash austere about you, you struggle to look up at him as you speak.

“Thank you. It’s very kind of you.”

“No need for thanks.”

You wait several seconds before looking up to give him a communal look of gratitude but you find he’s already looking down at you. You find difficultly baring his coarse stare and so you look back down at your lap.

Throughout the ride, you can’t help but notice how his leg kept innocently brushing against yours.

Once again, no more words were shared between you and like before, you get up and leave for your stop once it comes.

“You know how this goes.”

This is about the sixth time the man has offered his seat up for you, and quite frankly you do know how it goes, but it just never seems like a good enough reason to therefore take his seat.

“Señor.” You muse with a light smile as you board the train. “You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I really do. Come. Sit.”

The man is already out of the seat, hand widely displaying towards it — it’s yours.

Despite the seatless train, most people know by now not to sit in it’s stead. The man himself is tall and wide enough to deter anyone from trying, but most reoccurring passengers know the deal as well as you do.

As you take your seat, the man smiles down at you. His smiles have gotten a lot warmer over the various interactions. Per usual, he places his briefcase down near your feet and brush his knees with yours. You believe it’s going to be another wordless journey but the man opens his mouth, closes it, before saying:

“And please, call me Miguel.”

He jogs your knee with his, so you were aware it was you he was talking to, but you still looked up at him with a slight expression of confusion. For some reason, it was as if moths — the Night’s Butterfly — were flitting around within the neck of your stomach.

“Sorry?”

He sighs out of his nose. It was not out of annoyance, but as if he too was experiencing some emotions of nervousness. The man however had enough confidence to look down at you and attempt to gain your gaze.

“As opposed to señor, call me Miguel.”

Your mouth lets out a small ‘ah’.

“Miguel.” You repeat.

So his name was Miguel.

It suited him, and made slight sense concerning he seemed to know Spanish well, but even more so because it was as if he had metamorphosed right in front of you. It wasn’t a physical change, but being able to put a name to a face definitely altered your perception of him. It was as if he’d become more human.

With a soft hum, you look up at him with an inquisitive contort.

“Miguel.” You taste his name in his mouth once more. “Is that what you’d like me to call you or is that your actual, real, government name?”

The man’s expression was unreadable.

“Well, what do you think?”

You shrug, unsure why he’s asked the question, but you give your answer anyways.

“I’d think it’d be kinda stupid for you to give your government name to a stranger on the train. So I’m guessing it’s a nickname or at least a pseudo one.”

Miguel’s eyes clip towards the moving view behind you, before training back onto your face.

“Looks like I’m kinda stupid then.”

You pause, register what he’s said, and then let out a tinkling laugh as you shake your head meticulously. Miguel chuckles a few seconds after you, and he can’t help watching you as he does so.

There’s a pause.

“I’m not much of a stranger anymore though, right? We’re more acquaintances than anything.” He tries.

“But Miguel, you don’t even know my name.”

“Only because you haven’t told me.” He shrugs.

This is the most quick-fire that he’s ever been but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it.

“You want my government name or the pseudo one?” You muse.

“It’s only fair that you give me the government one.” He catches himself before adding more gently, “Only if you’re comfortable doing so and kinda stupid like me.”

Once again, you can’t help the smile that braces your mouth. You tell him your name, the government one, and Miguel knocks your knees together in concur.

“Ah. Hermosa nombre por una hermosa dama.” [1]

He says, and regardless of whether you understood or not, you knew what he was getting at. If his words didn’t convince you then it was the silky look of— admiration? That gave him away.

Your cheeks heated, and your head dipped. All you could force out was a humble Thank You.

“Where I’m from, we have this saying.”

Miguel angles his breakfast snacks in your direction and you wordlessly take a small handful.

Surprisingly, your usual train was a lot quieter this morning. Maybe it was due to school holidays season, but there was enough space for you and Miguel to both have a seat. Your journey so far had been non-stop chatter.

“Más í an ceann í, beidh a fhios ag do chroí sula ndéanann tú.” [2] He reprises wisely.

It wasn’t Spanish, and you knew Miguel spoke Irish (“That old bastard was only good for one thing.”), so the translation was pretty much lost on you.

“Is that so?” You say with a hum and a crunch.

Miguel is also crunching on some of his snack, palm covering his mouth as he chucks the small pebbles towards the back of his throat before he’s shaking his head.

“Nope, that was a complete fucking lie. No such saying exists like that, I just made it up on the spot.” Miguel leaves room for you to let out a burst of laughter. “But, if it was a saying, I’d live by it like it was gospel.”

Shaking your head, you finish the portion of snacks that were in your mouth before you reply.

“Maybe you should paten it then. Make sure no one else gets the chance in saying it’s the gospel they wrote.”

“Maybe I should patent it…” Miguel echoes to himself with a deep laugh. “Yeah, maybe I should.”

The both of you lull into a comfortable silence. The sort of silence you could fall into with a long time friend who was low maintenance, or a family member who you tolerated sharing the living room space with. It was the type of stilling that didn’t require speech but welcomed it if it came. Mornings with Miguel were the calm before the inevitable storm and the small pick-me-up that pushed you out of bed.

But then as you pondered how he made you feel, you realise that you only knew Miguel within the context of your work commute. You’d only ever spoken to this man within the short time that you travelled to work; Never before, never after. Had you gotten just one train earlier or later — heck, one carriage — different that fateful day, it would have inevitably changed the course of your life and the starting foundation of the friendship (?).

Life truly was funny in how it dealt it’s cards.

“What does it mean anyways?” You ask with piqued interest.

Miguel makes a WTF face, a face he made often, before he’s scrunching up his packet of finished snacks and dumping it within the blue convenience store bag he had. You recognise that everything he’d purchased was in Spanish.

“What does what mean? Be more specific.”

“Your fake saying you lied about.”

Miguel turns his head to look at you, those deep insightful eyes of his analysing you, searching for something. You’re not sure if he found what he was looking for. Whether he did or not, you wouldn’t know.

The man only turns forwards again and snorts.

“Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head about it.” He concludes. “You wouldn’t want to know.”

________________________________

[1]: Beautiful name for a beautiful lady

[2]: If she’s the one, your heart will know before you do

#miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel x black reader #atsv #atsv x black reader #atsv x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099

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loveharlow · 29 days

Text

SEVEN - 008

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[12.2k] based on 1x09 and 1x10.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, extreme violence, mentions of child abuse, mentions/graphic depictions of rape/non-con, mild themes of ptsd, mentions of/allusions to death, general angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ and here is the season one finale of SEVEN :(, kinda sad but excited for season two. this is a long one so grab your takis 'cause this shit's gon be goooood (UDY reference, am i old?)

also this is not spell-checked :(

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

AFTER FLEEING FROM THE AIRSTRIP, the four of you found temporary shelter in a junk lot some miles away. You camped there, for what had to be, at least an hour before you watched an unmistakable plane fly overhead.

“And there goes the gold.” JJ said disappointedly, throwing his arms out to the side. “Shit!” He yelled, kicking an already busted up lawn chair.

“Fuck!” Pope hollered, throwing hat so far that it clattered loudly against something out of sight. “God damn it!” He continued raving, picking up an old baseball and swinging at every object within his line of vision. The three of you stood back in shock, never seeing such a display of emotion from the boy.

At least not one this aggressive. He continued breaking and smashing and shattering before deciding to ditch the bat in favor of lifting a large tin trash can, throwing across the concrete.

“Pope!” Kiara called out, flinching. The boy just paced, hyperventilating before collapsing against a worn down bench. He had a look of distress on his face before bursting out into tears.

“I was wondering when this was gonna happen.” JJ spoke lowly, walking towards his friend while Kie looked aimlessly around at the even bigger mess he’d made of the junkyard. The blonde held out a weed pen in the curly-haired boy’s direction, shrugging a single shoulder. “A little weed never hurt anyone.”

“JJ.” Kiara reprimanded. “You know he doesn’t smoke.” Pope looked to the two and then to you, eyes asking for advice. You simply shrugged as if to say why not, watching him snatch the pen from JJ’s fingers.

“Well, maybe not until today.” The blonde taunted as Pope fiddled with the device, eyeing it for a few moments.

“What is that gonna help?” Kie criticized as he contemplated.

“...I lost my scholarship. Walked out in the middle of the interview. It’s gone, it’s not gonna happen.” He told you three sadly.

“You did that for us?” Kiara asked him, face falling.

“No. Not for us.” He corrected, standing from his seat as you replaced his absence next to JJ, leaning your head on his shoulder. “For nothing.”

“Pope-”

“Just let it go, Kie.” You sighed, the girl turning to you. You hadn’t spoken much since you heard the gunshot in the woods, concerned for John B’s well-being and heartbroken about the gold, and everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. “He’s right. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

The air around you all went silent, Pope taking a hit of the pen as Kiara silently judged him. You and JJ sat in silence, a comfort shared between the two of you, taking the feeling where you could get it. That was until you heard slow footsteps behind you, heads shooting up to find John B coming around the corner.

You launched yourself out of your seat, running into the boy and dragging him into a hug he didn’t return, the other three following suit. Releasing him, you all took immediate notice of the crimson color decorating his shirt and hands.

It looked half-dried, taking on a color resembling rust or dried tomatoes. It completely coated his hands, even the webs between his fingers.

“...Whose blood is that?”

“JOHN B, WHAT ARE WE DOING AT THE POLICE STATION?” JJ asked as Kiara pulled up next to the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station. It was night time now and the sun had set hours ago. John B had wasted sunlight explaining to the four of you what went down on the tarmac. According to your friend, Rafe had shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin while she was in the middle of arresting Ward Cameron.

“Somebody has to tell them what happened.” The boy in question replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, right before Pope broke out into a coughing fit, perfectly rolled joint still clutched between his fingers. He hadn't let up on the weed since taking his first hit at the junkyard.

“Easy there, Chief.” JJ advised from his place next to you in the trunk of the car, John B and Pope in the back seat while Kiara drove. Then the blonde’s attention was on John B. “I’m just gonna be real with you, right now. You might end up in the lion’s den, but you don’t go there on purpose. You should never trust cops, no matter the circumstance.”

“He’s right, John B.” You pitched in. “You gave the compass to Peterkin and somehow it ended up with Ward. Who knows how many dirty cops are littering that station right now.”

“I agree.” Pope added in. “Fuck the police.”

“You’re going to the dark side now?” Kiara judged.

“When’s the last time the police helped us?” Pope argued back, leaning forward.

“Peterkin looked out for me, alright?” John B finally spoke out after moments of silence, looking at all of you with pleading eyes. “Tried to, at least. They need to know.” He declared before giving you all one last parting look and leaving the car to go into the station and tell the precinct that the Sheriff was dead. And that Rafe Cameron had killed her.

“...How did we get here, you guys?” Kiara spoke, looking at no one in particular. She sounded sad and far away, hands clutching the steering wheel.

“Greed?” You offered, shrugging your shoulders. “A part of me regrets not leaving this alone the moment we found out the boat was Scooter’s and that he was dead. But once we found that compass, there was no stopping.”

“Well, I don’t regret any of it.” JJ piped up, leaning over the backseat, over Pope’s shoulder. “What’s this pity party y’all are throwin’? We found the fucking gold.” He laughed out triumphantly. “And yeah we got screwed but we’re gonna get it back.”

The three of you pondered on his words, more like the two of you considering Pope was getting higher than the Empire State Building. Maybe JJ had a point. But you couldn’t think too much longer when John B came barrelling back into the vehicle.

“Kie! Start the car!”

“What did you do?” She asked, fear written all across her face as she switched gears, two officers coming up on the vehicle and attempting to open John B’s door.

“Kie, just drive!” He commanded, the car speeding down the dirt path.

One of the deputy’s refused to admit defeat, running along the car with her hand still on the handle. “Pull over!” She shouted through the window, banging her free palm against the glass.

“Open it!” Pope ordered from John B’s side. JB looked side to side in confusion before doing as the intoxicated boy said, opening the door and effectively sending the deputy tumbling on her feet and leaving her behind as Kiara kept driving.

“What the hell was that?” You asked incredulously, looking out the back windshield as the two officers disappeared out of sight. But the boy didn’t answer, just looked straight ahead with his lips slightly parted. You reached over the seat, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, John B, what the hell was that?”

“...They think I killed Peterkin.”

IT WAS MORNING NOW AND THE FIVE OF YOU HAD BEEN RUNNING FROM THE COPS ALL NIGHT. There was nowhere for John B to go. The Chateau was no doubt flooded with cops, JJ’s house was just as unsafe, Pope’s parents were mad enough at their son as is, Kiara’s parents would shun him at the door, and you weren’t even sure if your home was your home anymore.

You all were camped out in Kiara’s car on the side of a windy road, camouflaged by the plethora of trees. The Kildare County AM Radio Show playing as you all sat in exhausted silence, seats reclined in uncomfortable positions as you all attempted to get some rest and hide from passing cars.

“...And good news for the residents of the Outer Banks. Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to ninety-percent of the city, should be functional within the next twenty-four hours.”

The host exclaimed as you and JJ nearly jumped when police sirens were heard over the station, two police cars zooming down the road and right past the car you were all hiding in. You let out a breath of relief, letting yourself fall back into the seat.

“..And still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-” The rest of whatever the radio host was going to say was cut off when Kiara turned the radio off entirely.

“...So, Yucatan it is?” JJ started the conversation.

“Enough with the Mexico bullshit.” John B cringed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just being realistic here. Who are the cops going to believe? Lord Cameron or us?” He spat out, irritated.

“Sarah will bail me out, okay? She’ll come through.”

“She did witness everything…” Kiara supported the brunette’s ideology. You just scoffed, yawning and rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes.

“If you two believe that Sarah will turn her dad or brother over to the cops, you are beyond delusional.” You threw out.

“Thank you.” Pope agreed.

“We gotta get you off the island.” JJ spoke his mind, sparking up a blunt and shifting to lean on his shoulder.

“The ferry’s his only option.” Pope informed.

“That's do-able, right? Dude, you gotta dip before the entire island’s on lockdown.” JJ told his best friend as you all ducked once more as three more police cars sped by, only rising slowly once the sound of sirens was gone.

“Look, Sarah’s not a Pogue, JB.” You offered the boy a reality check. “She’s not one of us and you can’t rely on her to save you. You gotta think about you.”

“SO, BAD NEWS.” Pope threw his hands out, looking around nervously while also trying to act normal as he walked back to the car. You all were parked at The Ferry dock with John B reclined fully inside the car to remain out of sight. “The Ferry’s closed and there’s this…” He spoke through the rolled down window from outside of the car, passing a paper inside for the rest of us to see.

“...Shit.” Kiara cursed, passing the paper back for the remaining three of you to see. JJ took it as you leaned over his shoulder, you being the only one in the trunk now since Pope took over driving and JJ moved to sit next to JB.

“Twenty-five thousand?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide as you read the ‘WANTED’ poster for John B. His picture and all listed on the sheet. JJ was quick to turn around a throw a palm over your mouth, instructing you to ‘shh’ before slowly removing the hand. “Sorry. But twenty-five thousand dollars on your head?” You directed at JB.

“Congrats, Bree. You’re famous.” JJ said sarcastically, annoyance seeping through his voice.

“So, the whole island’s looking for John B.” Pope sighed, drawing his lips into a thin line, getting into the driver's seat.

“Guys, we can get to the HMS Pogue. It’s small, no running lights-” Kiara started before JB cut her off, little emotion left in him.

“It’s at The Chateau, Kie.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the vehicle. “The cops are probably staked out at every corner.”

“JJ.” Pope perked up, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned around to face the blonde in the backseat. “Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, The Phantom. The one he used to race.”

“Maybe.” The boy in question replied simply, face void of any emotion.

“Okay, then. We could get it up to the coast, no problem.” Pope said, turning back around and putting his hands on the wheel.

“It won’t be easy, Pope.” JJ advised. “I don’t even know where the keys are.”

“Well, find them.” The curly-haired boy spat out, jittering in the driver’s seat. “Why is nobody moving forward?” He motioned for the line of cars in front of him.

“Should he be driving?...” You threw the question out, noting his behavior and the amount of weed he’d consumed in the last couple of hours. “Pope, buddy, I don’t think you should be driving.”

“Kie.” John B craned his neck to look at the girl in the passenger seat. “Your car is on the poster.” Nobody could say anything before Pope started rapidly honking the horn.

“Hellooo? Can we move it?” He urged. “Come on!”

“Pope!” Kie tried to grab the male’s attention. “Don’t honk the horn! Jesus…”

“Mom, look! It’s that guy! Right there!” Some blonde little shit standing in the grass pointed at the car you were all hiding in, his squeaky voice traveling through the rolled down window. “We get twenty-five thousand if we find him!”

The kids excitement started to draw other civilians attention, the car soon surrounded by curious eyes. One man had the nerve to bang against one of the back windows, smiling as he pointed at John B’s flattened figure inside of the car. You banged back on the glass, startling the middle aged man before yelling at him to ‘back the fuck up’.

“We gotta go. Pope, turn the car on.” Kiara demanded. “Pope, turn the fucking car on!”

“I’m trying!” He protested, fighting with the ignition key. When he finally succeeded, the car flew forward, hitting the back bumper of the car in front of you all. You all shouted at the boy to back up but he just continued driving forward, pushing the car in front of him before swerving to the side and into the grass.

He managed to drive away from the scene and onto the main road, not getting far before he was swerving back into the grass, sending a mailbox flying into the air in pieces. The four of you gripped onto the seats and safety handles for dear life as Pope cheered in the driver’s seat.

“I am livin’ my best life right now!” He hollered with the biggest smile of his face, right before he hit another mailbox, the impact sending you all forward, your forehead coming into hard contact with the back of JJ’s head.

“Ow! Dammit! Pope, pull over!” You screeched from the back seat. He did as you said, bringing the SUV to a complete stop, making the car jerk. Kiara turned in the passenger seat to look at John B.

“You, get out.”

“What?” He looked bewildered at the suggestion.

“We’ll draw the cops while you run. Get out!” She commanded, John B turning to JJ as the blonde spoke quickly.

“I’ll get the boat and we’ll meet in the dump tomorrow, okay? Three o’clock.”

“Yeah.” John B confirmed, nodding as he barrel-rolled out of the car, running through the field and into the woods.

“Three tomorrow at the dump!”

“YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” JJ piped up, getting out of the car with Pope as you and Kiara followed suit, the SUV that was parked on the side of Tannyhill, just out of sight. Kie had taken the wheel back after it was clear Pope was far too impaired to drive. It was nighttime once again, the chaos causing the hours to tick by.

“She’s the only one who can clear John B.” The brown-haired girl told him simply, getting ready to climb the fence with you next to her, flashlight in her hand with yours clutched between your teeth. “I have a plan.” She muttered, you all landing in the grass and marching through the yard.

“I can do a plan. Plan, plan. Can totally do a plan.” Pope spoke nonsense, the smile never leaving his face as Kiara turned around to face him, irritated and annoyed.

“Can you handle a plan, right now?’ She criticized.

“Of course.” Pope brushed off, dismissing the girl's concerns. “I’m Mister Plan-o-matic.” He assured before breaking out into a rap, a terribly bad, off-beat, and loud rap. You couldn’t contain your laughter, almost snorting at the random action before Kie shot you a look, wiping the smile off of your face as you tried to hold in the laughter.

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” You lied, turning to Pope. “Pope.” You whisper-shouted in his direction. “Let’s…save the freestyle for later.” You suggested, a small smile on your face as he quieted down.

“This is a quiet plan.” She talked to him like a baby while you and JJ stood off to the side, watching as she put her pointer finger against his lips. “Okay?” She asked, receiving an absentminded nod from the male in response to which she retracted her finger slowly.

“...I love you, Kie.” Pope said when the girl moved her hand, both you and JJ’s jaw dropping simultaneously.

“What?” Was all the girl offered in response, sighing. Ouch.

“I’m in love with you.” The intoxicated boy clarified, JJ scratching his head and turning away while you stared at the flowers and trees like they were the most interesting things in the world.

“You’re… wasted.” She dismissed his confession, disgust written all over her face as she turned around with the intention to keep walking before Pope pulled her back gently by the wrist.

“I know I’m wasted and that’s why I’m saying this now.” He tried again. “I really feel like this. I love you. I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” She cut him off angrily. Pope look stunned, hurt.

“...I’m trying to tell you how I feel-”

“And that’s very sweet, but it’s not gonna happen.” She stated softly but firmly. In his incapacitated state, he took the rejection lightly, a small smile edging it’s way on his face as he scoffed.

“Okay, well, why not?” He asked. “Is it the no pogue-on-pogue macking rule? Because it doesn’t make sense and no one follows it–”

“Look, I want something different.” She blurted, throwing her shoulders up. “I wanna go to Anarctica, I want to ride camels-”

“And I want to do those things with you-”

“No, Pope, it’s not gonna work!” She told the boy, louder than intended as she looked around before looking at him. “It’s not gonna happen...” She said, finality in her voice as Pope’s face fully fell this time, the rejection settling in. Even from your place, several feet away, you could see the tears welling in the boy’s eyes.

“...We should probably get on with the plan now.” You broke up the interaction, figuring someone should step in and lead the group back on the right track. They both agreed, being the first two to walk off, leaving you and JJ stranded in silence.

“I had no idea he felt that way about her.” You said shocked, blinking rapidly. “I mean, I had a hunch but, man.”

“Girls never know when guys like them.” The blonde said from beside you, your face twisting. “Poor Pope.”

“That is so not true.” You disputed as you both started walking after the other two. “Guys are the most oblivious creatures ever.” You told him,

“You're literally a walking demonstration.” JJ threw out humorously, an immediate look of regret on his face.

“What does that mean?” You asked, looking at the boy curiously.

“Nothing. Forget it.” He waved you off, you both bickering quietly as you walked further into the yard.

Catching up to Kiara and Pope, the girl in question explained that JJ and Pope would create a distraction down in the yard so you and her could sneak up to Sarah’s window.

So, you were walking around the house you hadn’t visited in months while JJ and Pope were left behind, hopefully concocting a good enough plan to distract whoever else might be in the house.

“Hey,” Kiara whispered, pausing in front of you. “Do you think I was too harsh back there? With Pope?”

“Honestly?” You started, moving your mouth around before you spoke. “Kind of. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about him and I get your frustration with everything going but rejection hurts. No matter which way you say it. And he’s high, so it probably hurt a little more.” was your honest truth for the girl.

She simply nodded, looking down before the two of you quietly climbed the balcony stairs up to Sarah’s window. You both crouched out of sight in front of the window, the curtains drawn open allowing you to see the blonde girl’s reflection in her mirror.

Her room looked just the same as it did all those months ago. You didn't expect much to change, it was just an odd observation, you guessed.

Kiara knocked on the glass lightly, just enough to gain Sarah’s attention, the girl approaching the window with a smile before trying to open it and failing. The window wouldn’t budge, even when Kiara tried to help from the opposite side.

The curly-haired girl simply sighed before deciding to pull the wanted poster from her pocket, holding it up for Sarah to read. “Were you in on it?” Kiara asked, their voices still able to travel through the glass, slightly muffled.

“Did you think I was?” Sarah asked, tucking her hair behind her ears. Kie contemplated, shrugging as if to say ‘I don’t know’ before ultimately settling on her answer.

“No.” Then Sarah’s pitiful eyes were turning to you, eyes you tried desperately to avoid. She called your name, drawing your attention.

“...I’m sorry.” Was the first thing she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I believe you. About Rafe. I didn’t think he could do something like that and I was just protecting my brother. But he…he’s worse than I thought. I wasn’t a good friend to you then. But I’ll be a better one now.” She smiled smally.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your own eyes until one traveled down each cheek. You quickly wiped the evidence away before attempting to shrug nonchalantly. “...Thanks, I guess.” You mumbled, looking up at the girl through your lashes, smiles breaking out on both of your faces as Kie looked between you both with a motherly pout.

The moment was ruined when Ward’s voice boomed from inside the house, calling out for Sarah. The girl inside jumped, whispering for the both of you to go. The two of you did as she said, fleeing the back yard as fast as you could, trying not to trip down the balcony steps.

You both bolted through the backyard, making note of the smoke coming from the grill on the patio before hopping over the fence and heading straight for Kie’s car where Pope and JJ were already camped out and waiting. Jumping in, Kiara started the vehicle and sped off, hiding between the streets of Figure Eight.

“Did you idiots set the grill on fire?” Kiara asked as she drove down the dark streets, you and her up front while JJ and Pope rode in the back.

“No,” Pope drug out. “It was a pillow that I set on fire on top of the grill. I think I singed my hairline…”

The girl couldn’t help but sigh, turning onto a fairly empty street. You just stared ahead out of the windshield, remaining silent. “What’s wrong?” Kiara questioned you, looking between the side of your face and the road.

“Nothing, it’s just…I didn’t expect her to apologize.” You muttered, looking at your fingers while you played with your nails. You never thought you'd feel anything but hate for Sarah after what happened. But after all, you were a teenage girl — maybe all you ever wanted was a real apology.

“I thought you guys made up on the boat…” Pope slurred sadly, disappointed that his plan hadn’t actually worked.

“Okay, now that we’re like part-time fugitives and our futures are on the line, I feel like we should throw everything out into the open here, full transparency. Kie already told us why she hated her guts.” JJ suggested from the backseat, behind Kie. You looked back at him as he spoke. “What happened between you two?”

You looked to Kiara for confirmation, confused on when she gave the guys the scoop on her ‘Sarah situation’. She just shrugged. “I told them a couple days after they left us on the boat. Figured it was over with so, why not.”

You let out a hum, taking a deep breath before turning back to JJ. “When I first moved to Figure Eight, I was going through a lot. It was right after my dad’s death, I was moving away from the only home I ever knew, and I didn’t fit in with the Kook kids. Kiara was my only friend on Figure Eight and she took me under her wing, even though I didn’t fully expect her to because she was in her own Kook bubble and hadn’t talked to us for weeks at that point.” You explained, leaning on the center console.

“Falling in with that crowd was the worst thing that could’ve happened to me. Late night house parties, drunk driving, just… stupid rich kid shit. But Sarah, Kie, and I were like a trio of our own. Sarah had us over at Tannyhill almost every weekend, that's why we weren’t hanging out with you guys as much…One night, when we’re staying at Sarah’s, I was having trouble sleeping because of my nightmares, I had been for weeks at that point. Months. So, while Kie and Sarah were asleep, I went downstairs to get some water, clear my mind. But I wasn’t the only one awake. I ran into Rafe in the kitchen…”

The car was quiet, the only sound being the tires against the road and the wind whipping by considering the windows were halfway rolled down. “He was surprisingly…caring. Asked why I was awake, if I was okay, and offered to talk. He let me vent and cry to him for hours, something I thought I’d never do in a million years. And I think I just got caught in the comfort of it all and I kissed him. I pulled away right after and apologized but he said it was fine…and then he kissed me again. I knew it wrong and I’m sure he did, too. Not only was he the brother of one of my best friends but I was fifteen and he had just graduated. But that didn’t stop him from leading me up to his room and locking the door.”

“...You slept with Rafe?” JJ asked, hurt.

“For months.” You replied honestly and shamefully. “I never meant for it to go that far. I had no feelings for him and I made that clear. He was a coke head, a general asshole, and just not the kind of guy I would ever want a serious relationship with. We’d just sneak around and hook up. No strings attached, was what I told him. But I guess he still felt like he had some kind of… claim over me.” You explained. “The three of us were at some house party one night and Rafe showed up with Topper and Kelce. I was flirting with some guy and Rafe just got angry, stomped over to me and yanked me by the arm all the way out of the front door and into his truck.”

Your voice started to shake, no longer able to maintain eye contact with JJ. “He just started yelling, calling me all types of names and when I tried to get out of the car he grabbed me by the neck and basically flung me into the backseat. He rap-mmph...” You cringed at your own words, not able to say what you wanted. The idea of the word leaving your lips made your stomach turn. “...He took advantage of me that night, right in front of the house,even drove me home after like nothing happened, like I wasn’t shaking and crying in the passenger seat, watching the blood leak from between my thighs. That was the last time I had seen him, up until the golf course. I told Sarah the next day, that following morning. I felt like I should, I mean it was her brother but she was my friend on top of that. But she didn't believe me. She called me a liar, told me he would never go that far and that she knew I’d been sneaking around with him and that I was trying to turn the situation into something it wasn't. Next thing I know, Rafe is making me out to be the island slut and Sarah is right behind him, laughing at the rumors.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” Pope broke the silence, sounding like he was on the verge of tears himself.

“If his own sister didn't believe me, I didn't think any of you would either. I didn't want to keep reliving it by telling you guys. I just wanted to forget any of it ever happened.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” JJ shook his head angrily, looking out the window as he bit his lip, his right hand curled into a fist. “This is what I mean. Kooks get away with whatever the fuck they want-”

“JJ, it happened months ago-”

“So what?” He shot back, turning to you with tears in his waterline. “I don't care how long ago it was. You didn't deserve that. He raped you, he hurt you and he gets to walk around like nothing happened. How are you okay with that?”

“I’m not okay with it.” You told him firmly, voice watery and upset. “I will never be okay with it, JJ. But that’s just the way it is. I can't do anything to change it now. Believe me, I wish I could do more but I can’t. None of us can.” The car fell silent, JJ shaking his head and looking out of the window angrily. You pondered on what you said, wondering if you should've said anything at all until a pressing thought entered your mind. “Kie! Stop the car,” You commanded, the SUV screeching to a halt as she looked at you. “I need to make pit stop. And no, it can’t wait.”

“HERE. I HOPE IT’S COOL ENOUGH TO DRINK.” You handed the blonde mug of hot chocolate, the two of you sitting at a table in The Wreck, blankets draped over your shoulders with the sound of Kie and Pope’s snoring filling the silence. You’d drove around Figure Eight, police at every corner until the four of you decided to call it quits and camp out somewhere safe.

Well, not before you snuck back into your house and retrieved Marley, the dog taking up space in the backseat between the two boys, never giving JJ a break as she practically curled up in his lap the whole ride to The Wreck.

Surprisingly, The Wreck was the safest place at the moment. The sky was dark, the stars still visible through the plethora of windows that littered the small restaurant.

“I think you need it more than me.” He said, sliding the drink he’d requested over to you. You shook your head, pushing the mug back in his direction.

“Don’t do that.” You said exhaustedly. “Don’t start treating me differently because you know what happened. That’s the worst thing you could do.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“You can look out for me by drinking that hot chocolate that I burned myself making.” You smiled tiredly, the blonde returning the gesture and taking the ceramic object between both hands, sipping slowly.

“Can I ask you somethin’ though?” He asked your permission, looking up at him through your lashes with tired eyes. You nodded, prompting him to continue. “I’m still lost on how you know Barry. I was gonna ask in the car but the conversation took a left…”

You sighed, hand coming up to palm the back of neck as you tugged the blanket closer to you, licking your lips. “Sometimes, when I’d ride around with Rafe, he would take me with him to buy coke. I don’t know why, he just would. I went into the trailer with him once, too hot to sit in the car. I guess Barry took one look at me and the bags under my eyes and wanted to reel himself in a new client. He offered me some pills. Something he’d made himself, a mix of Ambien and Xanax, said it’d help me sleep and so, I took it. Who knows if it was even safe…” You explained shamefully, shifting in your seat and looking back to make sure Kiara and Pope were still fast asleep.

“...I never had enough of my own money to keep buying it, so Rafe would buy it for me. That’s why Barry called me that stupid nickname, it’s what he would write down in his books. It got to a point where I felt like I needed the pills to even just take a nap when I wanted to or when I just wanted to feel good. It made me have less nightmares, feel less anxious throughout the day. But when I cut off Rafe, the drugs went with him. I walked around high for half of the summer and no one ever noticed.”

“...I can’t imagine that.”

“Neither can I, looking back on it. It’s not something I’m proud of but I’m better now.”

“You didn’t have to go through all of that alone. You could have come to us.” You just scoffed, leaning on the table as he traced the rim of his coffee mug.

“I didn’t even think you guys wanted to talk to me. Me and Kiara basically blew you guys for months for some Kooks who kicked us to the dirt.”

“And we took you back in when you came back. You’re a pogue. We’ll always be here, at least I will.” He chuckled, sipping more of his beverage.

“And I love you for that. Honestly.” The blonde’s blue eyes went wide at the beginning of your statement, as if he was about to spit out his drink until it calmed as you went on. You pondered on his initial reaction before deciding to let it go.

“...And I’m sorry. For not noticing. Someone should have. One of us should have, we’re your friends.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was my mistake, not yours.” You refuted his condolences, waving your hand dismissively. “Besides, our problems have gotten a lot bigger.”

“Who are you tellin’?” He chuckled under his breath, the two of your sharing a fit of sleepy laughter.

“...and J?” You perked up, laughing dying in your throat. He hummed in response. “If you could keep this between us… The Barry thing-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He interrupted you reassuringly, mimicking a zipper on his lips. “My lips are sealed. I promise you.” You simply nodded with a small smile on your lips as you curled up in the dining chair, cocooning yourself in the blanket. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach before you drifted off that you couldn’t quite place.

“AND THE MANHUNT FOR EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE CONTINUES after he allegedly shot and killed Sheriff Susan Peterkin on a private airstrip after a heated altercation. There have been multiple reported sightings of the boy in the Figure Eight area…” The news played from the small radio box as you all scattered around The Wreck, the sun casting an orange hue over the restaurant.

It was early the next morning and still no word from John B. You hoped he was okay and would still be able to follow through with the plan. You’d woken up on a bench inside of the restaurant, laid down and tucked in with pillow under your head. You couldn’t quite remember if you’d done that yourself.

“Is that gonna be enough food for them?” Kiara asked, grabbing edible items from the cabinets inside The Wreck as you and JJ bagged them.

“I mean, for a couple weeks that’s all they need, so…” JJ replied, eyeing the items inside of the paper bag.

“...I think I actually hurt his feelings.” She spoke despondently, referring to Pope. You and JJ grabbed the two wooden crates full of snacks and ready-to-eat meals and followed the girl through the back of the restaurant.

“Maybe he was too high to remember what happened.” You threw out, watching your step as to not fall with the large bin obstructing your view.

“I hate to admit it but I miss the old Pope. At least I knew what to expect from him-” She was cut off when Mrs. Carrera stormed towards her daughter, you and JJ stacking the crates into the trunk of the SUV.

“Where have you been?” The older woman demanded to know, throwing her arms out for them to land on her hips.

“I’m..fine. I slept here.” Kiara replied, perplexed as to what her mother’s issue could’ve been.

“Well, we were up half the night scared to death, lookin’ for you.” She told her child before looking past her and at you. “And your mother has been looking for you for days. When’s the last time you been home?” You simply didn’t reply, not wanting to disrespect Mrs. Carrera with the anger that surged at the mention of your mother. “Were you even gonna tell us where you were?”

“I’m telling you right now.” Kiara said simply, tucking her waves behind her ear.

“What the hell are you three up to?” She looked between the trio of you as you and JJ stood on either side of Kiara after loading the groceries into the trunk.

“Sorry, Miss Anna, but we have to go.” You told the older woman sadly. "Also, could you feed my dog? She's inside..." You requested sheepishly.

“Sorry…” Kie muttered, walking forward as you and JJ got into the car.

“No, absolutely not.” Mrs. Carrera blocked Kie’s path. “Have you heard what’s going on? Have you seen the storm that coming? This is not safe, Kiara!” She told her daughter as if she was crazy.

“Mom, I’m sorry, I have to go…” Kie’s voice wavered as she lowered herself into the driver’s seat next to you with JJ in the back.

“These cops are armed, Kiara. They will shoot you, I am not letting you do this!”

“Mom, John B needs me!” She shouted, pointing at herself and shutting the door. “I understand, I’ll be careful!” She continued through the glass. Her mom never stopped, begging for her daughter to get out of the car and go with the safer option. Kie just apologized over and over, switching gears and driving away.

THE SUV PULLED TO A STOP IN FRONT OF THE MAYBANK RESIDENCE. You turned around to face JJ from your place in the passenger seat.

“Home sweet home.” He proclaimed sadly, his eyes teary and face red. You couldn’t help but pout, watching as he pushed the car door open and got out. Seconds later, you followed suit — unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out. “What’re you doin’?” The blonde questioned you as you dusted yourself off.

You just shrugged and looked at him, jutting your bottom lip out. “I’m going with you.” He was quick to shake his head, his hands on both your shoulders as he pushed you back towards the car.

“No, no, no. No, you’re not.” He refused your assistance. “Get back in the car.”

You simply brushed his hands off of your shoulders, walking past him. “No. C’mon-” Suddenly, you were being pulled back by your wrist, facing the boy once more.

“I’m not lettin’ you go in there. It will only take a second, just get back in the car, please.” He was pleading with you but his eyes wouldn’t work this time.

“It only took him a second to do what he did to you.” You refuted, pulling your wrist out of his grasp gently. “So, I’m going with you. And we don’t have time to argue because we need to meet John B.” Was all you said before turning around and continuing to walk towards the front door of the house.

You told him he’d never be alone with his father again and you meant it. The blonde reluctantly followed behind you, his heavy boots not making his appearance known for once as you both tip-toed into the house, the door creaking as you did.

The floor stuck to the soles of your shoes as you both crept into the house. It was a mess — flies buzzing around the dishes piled in the sink, shoes far too large to be JJ’s scattered across the floor, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingering in the air.

JJ immediately spotted his father, sprawled out on the couch and snoring loudly, a half-drunken bottle of whiskey behind him. His son walked over to him slowly, eyeing his father with caution.

“...Dad, I need the keys to the Phantom.” He spoke to his father’s sleeping figure as you stood feet away, watching the interaction happen. The older man didn’t wake up, his snoring fit just getting louder. “Dad?’ He tried again to no avail, eyebrows twisting as noticed the male’s unusually deep slumber.

He looked around, blue eyes landing on an empty pill bottle on the coffee table.

“What is it?” You asked from your place a few feet away.

“...Ambien.” He said despondently, a undertone of anger seeping through. Neither of you said anything else about it, JJ putting the pill bottle back down and turning back to his father, spotting the keys dangling from the chain around his neck.

Grabbing a pencil and an exact-o knife, he knelt next to the middle-aged man, gulping harshly as he did so. You could see the fear bubbling within him, whether it was the tears in his eyes or the way his hands shook. Luke’s eyed edged open just as JJ was lowering the tools, the boy freezing in place.

“...I didn’t expect to see you.” Luke rasped, you immediately put one foot forward in case something were to happen. But he seemed calm. Tamed… “School out already?” He questioned, the first thing the man reached for in post-sleep daze being the open beer on the coffee table.

JJ’s face twisted in on itself, his fearful teary eyes filling with confusion. “What?”

“Did you ditch?” His father coughed, JJ’s blue eyes quickly fleeting in your direction for some kind of reassurance. Security. “You can tell me if you did.” The older man smiled drunkenly, laughing. JJ’s expression softened in the slightest and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as he replied.

“Yeah… yeah, I did. Hit the break, y��know.” He shrugged, feigning carelessness. Luke just laughed, struggling to stand from the couch in his disorientation.

“I hated school, too. My boy!” He cheered, slapping a wobbly hand on JJ’s shoulder in congratulations and in order to stabilize himself most likely. Your hand clutched the doorframe, biting the inside of your lip now knowing how quickly the older man’s switch could flip. “Look, I know I’m hard on you sometimes…But sometimes, I-I see your mother in you and it gets me a little tweaked, y’know?”

All JJ could do was stare down at his feet, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to will the tears brewing in his eyes to subside. “You’re a good boy.” Luke proclaimed, smiling at his son. You didn’t know if he was drunk or possibly having a moment of clarity. “And I love you, son.” He told JJ, pulling the blonde into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

JJ’s eyes met your own over his father’s shoulder — blue eyes surrounded by trails of red, tears making his pupils shine. What bothered you the most was the fact that he didn’t blink. For the entirety of the hug, which was long enough, JJ didn’t blink, not once. You could only wonder what was going through his head.

“...Love you, too, Dad.” He said, strained. But his expression remained all the same. But his voice made it seem as if the words he spoke brought him physical pain. Luke’s arms fell as the delirious man practically collapsed onto the sofa, losing consciousness once again. JJ’s face was flushed, tears trails shining as he yanked the dog tag with the keys from around his father’s neck and took swift steps in your direction, attempting to brush past you and leave the house until you gripped his upper arm.

“JJ-”

“This?” He cut you off harshly, whipping his head in your direction as he sniffled his feelings away. “This is why I wanted you to stay in the car.” He said, expression softening as he gently pulled himself out your grip and left the house.

“THERE SHE BE…” JJ gawked as he pushed open the garage door, revealing a large, pristine boat in the middle of the room. He was in a significantly brighter mood since you’d left his house, you refusing to let him wallow in his mild-anger towards you and riding in the backseat with him. You were surprised when he let you take hold of his balled fists, whispering your apology into his ear as he simply nodded and hummed. You didn’t miss the way Kiara kept glancing at you both through the rearview mirror.

“The Phantom.” He bragged, dragging his hands against the exterior as you and Kie stood by, letting him ramble and gloat. He needed something good right now. “A 1983 Formula 402 SR1 — the first boat to make the run to Bermuda in under sixteen hours.”

“...It’s kind of a junker.” Kiara said unimpressed, staring blankly at the blonde.

“Really? She’s right there, Kie.” JJ reprimanded. “She can hear you. You would not be smokin’ weed right now if she never existed.”

“Let’s just hope she runs.” You butted in, leaning against the boat, not too far from JJ.

“She’ll run alright.” JJ spoke in confidence, winding up a wire under the boat. Tires screeched against the concrete outside and Kiara threw her hands up in the air.

“That’s Pope. Finally!” She cheered, skipping towards the garage exit when Rafe’s frame rounded the corner, your back straightening and eyes going wide as you both locked eyes.

“Hey there,” The boy breathed out, taking steps closer as Kiara retreated slowly, her hands balled into nervous fists. “What’s goin’ on? How you guys doin’?” Then a wolf-whistle was heard from behind you, the three of you whipping your gazes around to find Barry entering the garage, his signature smirk adorning his features.

“Well, well…” He drawled, getting closer to JJ until he was close to pull a gun on him. A small gasp leaving your lips as JJ threw his hands up and Rafe made his way right next to Barry. “See, don’t think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I’m here because I want… my mothafuckin’ money!” He yelled before kneeing JJ in the abdomen, making the blonde curl in on himself.

“Barry!” You protested, immediately grabbing JJ and attempting to push the drug dealer away with your free hand. It was to no avail, however, when two strong arms wound around your waist and picked you up from behind. And unless Kiara had suddenly hit the gym, you knew exactly who it was and that knowledge sent you into a frenzy. “Get your fucking hands off me, Rafe!”

You kicked wildly as the boy drug you farther and farther away, watching helplessly as Barry beat on JJ and Kiara laid on the garage floor, holding her now visibly bruised knee.

“It’s not you we want, sunshine.” Rafe assured, setting you to your feet in a corner and gripping your shoulders. “Where’s John B?”

“I’m not telling you shit!” You spat nastily, pushing the man away from you with all the strength you could collect.

“I really wish you didn’t do that…” He spoke menacingly.

“I don’t care.” You spoke, voice wavering as you struggled to get your eyes to leave his. But you felt as if you needed to watch his every move — the ways his fingers twitched, the way his eyes squinted, the vein that was popping on his forehead. “I know what you did.” You provoked. “You killed Peterkin.”

You don’t know exactly what you were hoping to achieve by saying it but you instantly regretting when you saw the way his face morphed — the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply, the clench of his jaw. So hard it made his head shake in the slightest of motions before his hand went around your throat, squeezing tightly.

“Don’t you ever let me hear you say those fucking words again.” Your hands grabbed his forearm as you gasped for air, the sounds of Barry kicking JJ and Kiara yelling out becoming muffled audio in your ears. “You got that?” He questioned, your own eyes drifting to the figure appearing behind him holding a weapon up. “You got that?!” The Cameron boy shook you before yelling out in pain as Pope hit him in the back of his knees with what seemed to be a metal pipe.

Rafe’s grip on your throat fell as he did, bent over in pain as Pope struck him again, the metal clanking against his bones. You fought for air to enter your lungs as you watched the boys fight, wondering where Pope learned such coordination as he dodged blow after blow from Rafe before delivering a plethora of his own.

Your attention was stolen when you saw JJ punishing Barry, wondering when he’d gotten the upper hand as a soft hand on your back made you flinch, turning to see Kie. “Are you okay?” She asked, eyes swimming with worry as you nodded. At some point, JJ had managed to incapacitate Barry, leaving the drug dealer on the ground as Rafe and Pope continued to fight.

Truthfully, the fight between them had ended once Pope delivered a nasty blow to Rafe’s temple, rendering the boy disoriented and open for Pope to continue his assault.

“Pope, that’s enough!” Kie yelled, standing back as Pope ignored her. He hit Rafe in his stomach, then his chest, then his face, sending his body spinning away from the boy.

“Pope!” Kiara tried again.

Rafe was drooling blood, eyes spinning wildly as Pope grabbed a leather rope, wounding the object around the Cameron boy’s neck and pulling tight. Kiara pleaded with Pope to stop, said that he was going too far. But you stood there, not saying anything — eyes focused on the way Rafe choked on his own blood, the way his hands clawed as the machine underneath him, the way his own eyes drifted to yours and seemed to plead for help.

The same yours did all the those months ago.

And in that moment, you started to wonder if you had ever truly gotten over what happened. Or if you ever would. Because, in that moment, you wanted Pope to kill Rafe. And you wanted to watch him do it.

JJ managed to get a hold on Pope, the dark-skinned boy meeting Kie’s eyes and deciding to drop the rope, leaving a heaving Rafe beaten and bloodied on the garage floor. You started to come out of your own haze, eyeing Pope as he looked down at Rafe in terror of what he’d done. What he could’ve done.

“We… we gotta go.” Kiara stuttered, eyes fleeting between the three of you stood starstruck as Rafe rolled around. She wasted little time in walking back to her SUV, her legs carrying her there as she wobbled from side to side. You and JJ stood back as you watched Pope’s anger rebuild, your friend leaning over the bloody boy and talking lowly.

“Stay off The Cut.” He warned. “We don’t want you on this side of the island. Any of you.” He threw his words back at him, the same words Rafe had spat at you that day on the Golf Course.

“DUDE, WHERE IS HE?” Kiara said, a tone of annoyance in her words. We’d arrived at the meeting spot right on time, but John B was no where to be seen. Pope had calmed down significantly since the incident at the garage but you hadn’t spoken since then. The moment playing over and over again in your head. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

“He’ll be here. Just give him a second.” Pope assured the girl, spots of Rafe’s blood staining his shirt. Police sirens wailed as a squad car pulled up behind you three, lights flashing as they came to a stop. You all tried to remain calm as you anticipated what the police could want now while also praying that John B didn’t pull up just as they’d arrived.

All of your worries went with the wind when John B hopped out of the driver’s side, cutting off the lights and sirens and pulling a backpack up on his shoulders with a semi-solemn look on his face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” JJ smiled from his place behind the wheel of The Phantom.

“Shoupe let me take it for a spin.” John B smiled smally, flipping his curls out of his face as he edged closer to the four of you. Kiara was the first to give him a hug, embracing the boy with a giggle as JJ spoke.

“It wasn’t easy, bro, but I got The Phantom for you.” He said triumphantly, holding up the keys between his fingers and tossing them to John B who caught them between his palms. “You ready to go?” The blonde asked, standing on top of the boat as you all watched John B’s face fall.

“...Where’s Sarah?”

Kiara looked around, lips pursed in confusion before she spoke. “She’s not with you?”

“No, no, we got separated in the swamp, she said she was gonna meet me here.” JB panicked, eyes fleeting to the trees surrounding the four of you as if she would appear from between them. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“John B, “ JJ started, kneeling to level his eyes with his best friend’s. “I know you feel bad for leaving but there’s no time, dude.” John B simply clenched his jaw and looked away. “You’ve got plenty of gas, plenty of food. Once you get around that point, it’s a straight shot across the sound to Dismal Swamp, alright? Once you get there, lay low. Hang out for a couple weeks and then go overland, cross the border at Brownsville, you got that? Brownsville.” JJ detailed, hand now firm on JB’s shoulder.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I got it.” He spoke, staring out into the distance. Snapping back, he got onto the boat as JJ hopped off. It was only then you realized that you’d been standing in the same spot when the three of them — Kiara, Pope, and JJ, had their hands on the rails ready to push the boat into the water.

“Guys?” John B gathered all of your attention. Hands gripping his backpack straps for dear life as his eyes watered. “I’m sorry for basically…throwing us off a cliff with this whole treasure hunt thing.” His voice cracked, the sound snapping you out of your stupor as you felt your face fall. In all of your years of knowing John B, being his friend, being his sister, basically — you’d never heard him so remorseful. So defeated. Not until his dad died and only again at this very moment.

Something willed you to move, carrying your feet closer to your four friends until you were close enough to grab onto the boat rails and haul yourself up next to John B, stabilizing yourself and throwing yourself onto him in a hug that took him a moment to return. You could feel the tears building in your eyes as you buried your face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your dad.” Was the first thing you could think to say, the Routledge boy chuckling sadly in your ear.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about yours.” He returned, patting you on the back. You pulled back from the hug, hands still on his upper arms.

“I’ll finish this.” You nodded sadly, biting your bottom lip as small tears ran down your cheeks. “For the both of us.” John B didn’t say anything, just nodded sadly as well, a pitiful smile on his face. “Stay safe, Bree.” You said in farewell, squeezing his arm and turning away to get off the boat, joining the other three behind the rails.

“Forget all this sad shit, bro.” JJ sniffed, throwing his arms over all three of your shoulders and looking up at John b. “Everything that happened? We did it together, man. Pogue style.” John B laughed breathlessly, eyeing the four of your gratefully, almost like he was trying to commit your faces to memory.

“Pogue style.” He sighed back.

“Now, get out of here! Please…” Kiara rushed.

“Yeah, we’ll see you down in Mexico.” Pope pointed, a sad look swimming in his eyes despite his tone.

“Love you.” JJ left the words with his best friend, John B returning the gesture before pausing his walk to the cockpit of the boat.

“...Tell Sarah I said goodbye, okay?” He choked out, the four of you nodding in agreement. He gave you all a grateful nod before settling into the boat, the rest of you putting in effort you push the boat into the water as the sound of the engine starting up echoed throughout the trees.

You could see the way John B purposefully avoided all of your eyes as he sped off, the boat getting smaller which each passing second as you said goodbye to your friend.

Once he was out of sight, Pope was the first to turn around, coming face to face with Kiara as you and JJ walked out, their conversation still able to heard.

“You okay?” Kie inquired.

“...I’m sorry for…acting like a dumbass. I was just upset.” He stammered, you and JJ leaning on the car and being nosey. “And I was being petty and-”

“It’s okay.” Kie breathed out, shaking her head.

“I just wanna be friends again.” Pope admitted, tone exhausted and shoulders dropping as thunder rumbled, the sky darkening within seconds. Kie stood there, looking at Pope’s outstretched hand. But she never shook it. Instead, edging forward and embracing the boy into a hug. Pulling back from the exchange, you didn’t expect her to go in again, this time for a kiss.

You and JJ exchanged looks, you were sure you looked confused but you couldn’t quite read JJ’s expression. Nothing was detectable from his dilated pupils or the way his eyes kept flickering between yours and your lips. And for a brief moment, you found yourself wanting to kiss him. But the thought made your stomach turn so wildly that you had no choice but to look away.

You were just vulnerable right now, you thought to yourself.

Police sirens appeared out of nowhere, somewhere between three and four squad cars surround the four of you from all angles. Your hands went up as Shoupe and a dozen other officers and FBI agents exited the vehicles, half of them with guns drawn.

“We’re too late, goddamnit!” Shoupe reprimanded himself. “Bratcher, tell your men to stand down.” He directed at the brown skinned man with an FBI jacket on, the man in question motioning for the remaining agents to lower their weapons. “Let me talk to these kids.” Shoupe shook his head defeatedly, approaching you all with hands on his hips. “Alright, where the hell is he?” None of you responded. “Where the hell is he?!”

Still no response. You guessed his next tactic was to try and interrogate you all one by one. “JJ? I see you’re livin’ up to your name.” The blonde simply huffed and shook his head, a small smirk on his lips as he stared straight ahead. “Pope, how ‘bout you?” He tried again. “This isn’t a fuckin’ game! You can do the right thing, right now. Where’d he go?” He yelled in the boys face. Typical, unmedicated Pope would’ve caved under this kind of pressure. But you think the marijuana had left imprint on him somehow as he stood, perfectly composed.

The four of you stood, wordlessly and stoic. If Shoupe wanted to find John B, he’d have to do it his damn self.

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN A WHILE AGO. Shoupe had detained the four of you, taking you all to the tent his team and the FBI had set up to overlook to water surrounding the Outer Banks — the lighthouse providing the best outlook, they were just waiting for Dominion Power to restore the power to the city. But you were praying John B had gotten away already, or that he would before that inevitably happened.

The environment gave you a headache — the flood lights, the police lights, the constant ringing of phones, the news vans outside trying desperately to get a word out of you and your friends. But you all remained silent — no word on John B, Sarah, or their whereabouts.

You were all in direct earshot of the conference table. Hearing dozens of law enforcement agents talk about John B like some internationally wanted serial killer was disheartening. It made you angry.

“Do you think he made it by now?” You whispered in JJ’s direction, the blonde sat on your right with Kie and Pope to your left. Your leg was bouncing nervously against the ground, your fingers fiddling with each other in your lap. JJ’s blue eyes fleeted between your leg and hands before planting a warm hand on your thigh.

“I hope so. But something tells me he went to find her first.” He spoke honestly.

“Her?” You asked, your mind blanking from the stress.

“Sarah.” He replied simply, you nodding and drawing your lips into a thin line. The two of you sat like that for the next few passing moments — in oddly comfortable yet tense silence, JJ’s thumbs absentmindedly drawing circles into your thigh.

The FBI agent that Shoupe had called in had his entire crew on standby, his eyes laser focused on the waters in front of him. It was too dark to see anything beyond a few miles radius, but it still made your heart jump just thinking of the possibility that John B could be out there.

“We need eyes on the other side of The Point.” He snapped at the agent next to him, the man passing on the order. It didn’t seem like a routine command. It was urgent, like he saw something.

You felt a frantic hand shaking your thigh, directing your sights back to JJ whose eyes were focus on everything you all. “Shit. Look,” He jutted his head in the direction of an open end of the tent, bringing your attention to the lights turning back on throughout the island. Section by section until the island was lit up like a Christmas Tree.

And it seemed like any prayers you’d made all those hours ago never made it up to the man in charge as the one light you hoped would never work again lit up the sea in front of you — The Lighthouse giving every person around you a clear view of the boat you’d all said farewell too just hours prior.

“That’s them!” Some random deputy yelled out. “There they are!” He pointed, John B and Sarah’s figures, outlined like two deer in headlights as The Phantom waded aimlessly in the water, people crowding around the edge of the grass to see them like some kind of tourist attraction.

The bald man at the head of this operation now, taking over Shoupe, called in his radio immediately. “Bogey spotted off the lighthouse, running lights out. I think it’s them…”

You didn’t think your heart could drop so far, the feeling cause you to almost dry heave as you gripped JJ’s hand, that was still on your thigh, for dear life. Siren wailed across the waves as two coast guard boats revved up, heading in the direction of The Phantom. Right on time for John B and Sarah to start the engine and speed away, out of the lighthouse’s direct spotlight. But they were still visible.

Journalists, news anchors, and conspiracy theorists all rushed as if they could run after the boat, watching the chase take place. The crowd formed within your line of vision, making you no longer able to see what was going on. You silently thanked God for it, you weren’t sure if this was going to go as planned anymore.

And you knew this only ended in one of two ways — with John B in jail for life or with the four of you seated right now at another funeral.

You’d forgotten all about the oncoming storm, and all sorts of terrible thoughts filled your mind. Kiara got up from her seat as Pope called her name, the girl attempting to push people out of the way.

“I can’t see. What’s going on? Excuse me. Move out of the way!” She tried, the crowd just regenerating every time. Pope put a hand on her shoulder, turning the girl to face him with tears in her eyes. “We don’t know what’s happening, Pope! Don’t you care about what’s happening?!”

He just nodded, pulling the hysteric girl into him, letting her cry silently on his shoulder. You and JJ just sat in silence, hand in hand. You felt the tears running but didn’t care to wipe them. No version of this scenario played out in your favor. And though you’d never give up John B, what else was there left to do?

The thunder clapped harder and brighter, the ground beneath you trembling in the smallest of motions. The radio on the center of the conference table carrying a digital voice throughout the tent.

“Suspect is attempting to escape south. Our attempts to contact the vessel were unsuccessful. We’re gettin’ hammered here.” The man on the other end of the radio warned, probably hoping his supervisor would tell him to end it, to turn around and let them go. You could only imagine the disappointment when the lead FBI agent spoke back.

“...Hold your position, Captain. I think I’ve got one more card we can play.”

A sigh came through the radio. “Roger that.”

You couldn’t help sigh yourself, the sound coming out strained and shaky as you closed your eyes and squeezed JJ’s hand tighter. You shook your head side to side, hoping the tears would go away.

“Hey,” An all too familiar voice came from beside you, opening your eyes to find JJ staring back with tears just waiting to fall. “It’ll be okay-”

“Don’t.” You cut him off immediately, shaking your head and biting your lip. “We both know that’s a lie so please don’t lie to me right now. It’ll just make it a lot harder when…”

“When what?”

“They’re driving them right into the storm, JJ.” You reminded, angrily. But the anger wasn’t directed at him. “We all know what’s bound to happen.” But JJ’s eyes were now stuck where yours had been just seconds prior, following his gaze to find Ward Cameron at the head of the transmitter now, microphone in hand as the FBI agent stood next to him.

You watched as his thumb hit the button on the side. “...John B?” He called, hand shaking as he did so. God, this man was an actor. Putting on the performance of a lifetime. “I know you’re there, son. I know you can hear me.” The audacity, you thought. The audacity of Ward to refer to John B as son, knowing what he’s done. It made you sick. “If you love my daughter like I think you love my daughter, then you will turn that boat around and come back. You are going into a storm that you cannot survive.” He reprimanded.

The words made you wince, more tears falling from your eyes. A mix of premature grief and overwhelming infuriation. This man, this killer, had a team of law enforcement agents behind him while he framed a teenager for murder right before their eyes.

“John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around.” Silence. The entire tent was filled with tense, consuming silence. One part of you wanted John B to remain silent. But the other wanted him to speak, just in case this was the last time you’d ever hear his voice.

“...Ward Cameron, do you hear me?” The static crackled, all four of your ears perking up.

“Yes.” Ward straightened in his seat, feigning relief. “Yes, son, I’m right here.”

“...You killed my father, you killed Owen Carter, and you framed me for a murder I didn’t commit!” John B’s voice bellowed clearly. “You took everything from me!” He cried, the sadness in his voice seeping through the radio. “But I’m still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what’s mine.” JB threatened, Ward going rigid in his place. His eyes were wide and anticipating, hand shaking as he seemed to be deep in thought and rage.

“...So, you listen to me, all right?” John B continued. “I’m comin’ for you. I’m coming. For you.” The entire space was filled with that gut-wrenching silence again. Ward had nothing left to say. To these strangers, he probably portrayed as a sullen father who’d just lost his daughter.

But to you, he was manipulative killer who got his kids involved in his world of crime. And sure, maybe he regretted it. But none of you were looking for regret. Besides, if Sarah can’t forgive her own father. If she can’t find some reasoning or justification for his actions, why should any of you?

One deputy broke the silence. “We’ve lost their radio signal, sir…”. Shoupe was quick to comfort his long-time friend, removing the radio from his hand and speaking into the intercom.

“Those are kids out there. Don’t stop lookin’.” He commanded his team. Now he cared about them being kids? Not when he was right there, driving them into the storm? He planted a steady hand on Ward’s shoulder, leaning down to his ear. “You stay right here. We’re gonna needa talk to you…”

ALMOST AN HOUR WENT BY before the team started to pack up. The table in front of you all was now gone and everyone had cleared out. Apparently, the four of you had to wait until your parents showed to take you home and claim custody, which was a whole ‘nother nightmare in itself. Kie’s eyes were still puffy from crying but now she just remained with a permanent frown on her face and Pope had been running a hand through his hair for the past half hour, trying not to lose it.

You couldn’t really place how you and JJ felt. For once, you didn’t know. It felt you’d both just lost a brother.

“We got Search ‘n Rescue on standby.”

“Any response?”

“They’re not calling it off yet…”

Officers chattered mindlessly, paying no mind to the catatonic teens staring out at nothing in front of them. Shoupe came into the tent wearing a weatherproof yellow jacket, two men trailing behind him in identical attire. The four of you stood swiftly, waiting for the Deputy- Sheriff, to speak.

“Did you find them?” Pope urged, almost pressing the man. Shoupe gritted his teeth, shaking his head side to side in response.

“...No.”

“So, they got away?” Kiara spoke optimistically, her tone rising more than it had in the last couple hours. Shoupe swallowed, avoiding all of your eyes. And somehow, you just knew.

“We, uh…we lost them.” He said firmly, holding back his own emotions. How does a man go from wanting nothing more to find a “fugitive”, dead or alive, to seeming remorseful that said teen was now gone. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, voice small, strained, but still furious. “That’s all you have to say yourself? Is that you’re sorry?” You took a step closer, voice trembling dangerously as a hand latched around your wrist — JJ.

He directed his gaze to Shoupe. “What do you mean you lost them?”

Shoupe sighed, raking a hand down his face. “They took an open boat into a tropical depression.” He retorted professionally.”

“...So, they’re dead?” You asked tearfully, fists balled painfully at your sides. Shoupe eyed you pitifully.

“We…don’t know.”

You couldn’t help but snatch your wrist out of JJ’s hold, taking steps forward until you were just inches away from the Sheriff’s face. “Whatever happened to them,” You started, anger consuming your words. “It’s all. On. You.” You said, enunciating each word with a finger to his chest, no matter how watery your voice sounded. “Do you understand that?!” You voice rose as you shoved the officer.

The two men on his side grabbed you and pulled away just as Pope’s voice rang out. “He didn’t kill anyone and you know it!” One of the men turning his attention to Pope, holding him back. Then JJ was lashing out, Kie’s face morphing as she started crying again.

Two figures ran into the tent, Kie’s parents. She let out a sob as she ran and embraced her mother, the remaining three of you calming down. The officer let Pope go as his mother approached him, pulling him down as his dad trailed in right after her.

Pope broke down in his mother’s embraced as he grabbed at her back as if he was falling. Heyward set a fatherly hand on JJ’s shoulder, the blonde heaving as he looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry.” Pope cried as Heyward joined the hug.

You heart didn’t drop when you saw your own mother standing at the entrance to the tent, raincoat on with the hood over her head as your eyes connected. You didn’t cry or smile or run to her. You just stared at her with every ounce of disappointment, anger, and hate you’d ever felt in your entire life.

And when Heyward broke the group hug to let JJ into the family hug between Pope and his parents, your eyes drifted to Kiara and her parents, who were looking at you. You wondered if they knew, but then you assumed that that was a crazy idea. Her parents were more your father’s friends than they ever were hers.

When your eyes went to find your mother, she was gone. And you accepted the invitation of comfort from the Carrera’s, letting tears flow freely and sobs leave your chest.

Maybe JJ was right.

Kooks versus Pogues?

They always, always win.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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