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#Scruffy!Jensen
mvdeanw · 3 months
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Dean // SPN - 9x12
Dean ( Jensen ) love club: @jillmariej @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @brilovesdeanwinchester @waywardbaby @spnfangirl1314 @shawnie74 @kwistowee @queenofallerdalehall @charred-angelwings @girlshunttoo @adoptdontshoppets @ddriverpicksthemusic @milo-winchester-4ever @wickedinspirations @quicklymybasement @jensensgotyoudean @lequisha @deansraspberrypie @thoughts-and-funnies @raidens-realm @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @eevvvaa @doublebill @avanatural @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @catnipster69
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avanatural · 2 years
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SPN 09x13 “The Purge”
Edits tag list: @eevvvaa​ @deansraspberrypie @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ 😊
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charred-angelwings · 1 year
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ok ok but WHY does he look so good all dirty and grimey like this 😭😭
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clairedelune-13 · 1 year
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I’m obsessed with his facial hair.
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found--family · 4 months
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i'm probably in the minority here but i much prefer stubbly misha to bearded misha and short-haired misha over shaggy haired misha
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the-gayngel · 4 months
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i think it's time we consider destiel looking like current jensen and misha if we ever see the characters again. picture long ass hair and scruffy beards. old grumpy men looking like if you even breathe in the wrong direction they will give you a look so devastating that it might just wither you from the inside out. they're not dealing with any more shit after everything they've been through. and now they get to live out the rest of their lives unfiltered, authentic, and slightly grouchy while they age together.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months
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the murder at evergreen university
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a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡
summary:  just a slutty murder mystery
warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive
word count: 11.100
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist
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Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 
Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 
“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 
“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 
Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”
“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 
Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 
“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”
“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 
“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”
“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”
Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 
“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  
“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 
“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”
“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 
Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”
“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 
“Yeah.”
“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”
Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 
“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.
“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”
“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”
Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 
In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 
“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”
“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”
“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”
“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 
Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.
“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.
“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 
Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 
Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”
After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.
“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”
Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 
“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.
“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 
“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”
“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 
“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”
“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.
Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”
Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 
Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 
“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”
“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”
“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”
Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.
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“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 
“What do you mean?”
Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”
“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 
“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”
“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 
“None of us have.”
“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”
“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”
“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”
“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”
Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 
“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”
“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”
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“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”
As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.
Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”
“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.
Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.
“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”
He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 
“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”
“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 
Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.
You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.
“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”
“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 
“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 
“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.
Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.
“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”
“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”
“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”
“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”
“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 
“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 
“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 
“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”
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Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.
“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 
Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”
“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”
“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 
Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”
Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”
“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”
“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 
“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”
“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 
Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”
“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 
“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”
Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”
“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 
“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”
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Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 
“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”
“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”
“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”
“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”
“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”
Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”
“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  
“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 
Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.
“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.
“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”
“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.
“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.
“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 
Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 
Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 
“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 
His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 
“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 
A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 
“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”
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“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 
“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”
Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”
Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 
“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 
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Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 
Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”
“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 
“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 
“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 
Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 
“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.
“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 
“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”
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“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 
“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 
“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 
He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 
“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 
Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 
“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 
You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”
“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 
“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”
Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”
“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 
Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”
Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 
“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  
Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 
“Yeah.”
Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 
“Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”
“I am.”
Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 
“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 
“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 
“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 
“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 
“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 
“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”
“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.
“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”
“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 
Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  
“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”
“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 
Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 
“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 
Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”
Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 
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It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 
The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  
The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 
“Why don’t you go ask him?” 
“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”
Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 
Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”
“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.
Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”
From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 
“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”
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“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 
“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”
“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”
“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 
“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 
Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”
“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”
“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 
Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”
“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.
“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”
“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”
“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”
“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”
Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”
“So…” he echoed.
“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”
“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”
Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 
“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 
“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 
“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”
“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”
“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 
“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”
“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”
Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”
“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”
“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  
Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 
“Know what?”
“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”
Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 
“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 
“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”
“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”
“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”
“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”
“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 
“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”
Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”
“What?” you blinked. 
“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”
“What? Why?”
Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”
Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”
“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 
But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”
Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”
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You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 
You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 
“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 
Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 
The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 
“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 
“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 
“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 
Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”
“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 
The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 
Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”
Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 
“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.
“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”
“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”
Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”
Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.
Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 
“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”
Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 
Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”
“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.
“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”
“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 
Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”
“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”
Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”
“Yes.”
“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”
“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.
“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”
Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”
“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.
“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”
Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.
Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 
“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 
“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 
“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”
“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 
“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”
“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”
Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”
Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”
The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”
The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 
“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”
“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”
Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”
Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”
“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”
The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.
“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”
Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”
Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”
“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”
“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 
In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 
“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 
“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”
After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 
“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 
Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.
“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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gummydummy19 · 5 months
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Weird ish question but what are the Chris Evans characters of his that you think are hairy? Like what ones do you think have hairy asses, ect. Yk?
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Not weird at all!! Alright...how are CE characters groomed? Let's get into it;
Steve Rogers:
I think Steve Rogers at first would be perfectly shaven (not waxed, he is far too scared to let anyone strange near his bits)
but Infinity War Steve....oooh that man is definitely hairy
Just imagine it: He has been on the run. His beard is growing, and his hair is a mess
He barely has time for/access to showers, so he doesn't have time to shave
definitely hairy all over
Ari Levinson:
hairiest mf alive
no questions asked
Especially if we are going timeline accurate
70s bush babe
Hairy face, hairy balls, hairy ass
No wonder you call him 'bear' all the time
Nick Grant:
DEFINITELY hairy
All over
Just look at that scruffy face???
Colin Shea:
might shave every once in a while but I don’t think he cares enough to go all the way back there
so I think he gets a bit hairy from time to time
Frank Adler:
hairy too, no doubt
This guy gives me big stinky man vibes but like in a good way
Trims his bush every once in a while
But definitely can't be bothered to go past his crotch
Hairy balls/butt for sure
Andy Barber:
hmm
this is a hard one (no pun intended)
I mean....his name is Barber
He is a fuzzy teddybear but he is always well groomed
Like??? That beard??? Perfection.
I think he might trim as well
Just to keep everything tidy
....might let his partner give him a wax if he's had enough beers and he feels playful enough
Jake Jensen:
seems like the type to try and shave before a date
because he is embarrassed and wants to look clean and well-groomed
accidentally cuts himself while shaving
gets even more embarrassed because now he walks funny
Luckily you find it charming lol
Lets his partner give him waxes every once in a while
gets embarrassed AGAIN when he gets hard and discovers he has a tiny bit of a pain kink
(I have a filthy brain sorry)
Johnny Storm:
Another difficult one
I think he trims
proud owner of a delicious happy trail
Lloyd Hansen:
my favourite mustache man
He is shaved but he always has some weird shit like a lightning bold
Pornstar looking ass
Gets you to give him waxes because he likes the pain
he is just a filthy little man with no sense of shame
like at all
Ransom Drysdale:
This motherfucker gets waxed every couple of weeks
At the salon where you work
Asks for you specifically every single time
Doesn't even try to hide his boners
Pete Brenner:
Kinda same vibes as Ransom
Definitely feel like he'd be hairless down there
Also feel like his explanation would be that it makes his huge cock look ever bigger
He would go to the gym a lot and book weekly appointments at a wax salon to show off his “perfect body”
Shamelessly flirts with the employees
Tries to get a happy end every time
A/N: alrighty I enjoyed this way more than I should have jhdiugudbua let me know what you think besties...
and THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!!! *mwaaa*
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j2-are-eternal · 3 months
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The thing I love (one of the many actually) about these two bing bongs is the way they present themselves. This is Jared's wedding. He's the groom, the main man.
Jensen looks very sharp, he's always got that 'blue-steel' thing going on at the best of times but put that man in a suit and he's looking ironed, pressed, steamed etc. As I said, sharp. Put together, styled to oblivion.
Jared on the other hand always looks slightly, so beautifully dishevelled - and that's no slight because I love the man but I also love that no matter how dressed down or up he is, he always looks like he found his clothes on the floor, even at his own wedding he looks vaguely chaotic. Jared isn't scruffy, just very louche in the way his clothes wear him. There's chaos there and it's very Cancerian of him.
Beautiful. Equally. They wear their personalities and it's gorgeous.
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mvdeanw · 4 months
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Dean // SPN - 9x12
Dean ( Jensen ) love club: @jillmariej @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @brilovesdeanwinchester @waywardbaby @spnfangirl1314 @shawnie74 @kwistowee @queenofallerdalehall @charred-angelwings @girlshunttoo @adoptdontshoppets @ddriverpicksthemusic @milo-winchester-4ever @wickedinspirations @quicklymybasement @jensensgotyoudean @lequisha @deansraspberrypie @thoughts-and-funnies @raidens-realm @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @eevvvaa @doublebill @avanatural @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @catnipster69
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-laughing at their messy hair in the morning
A/n: Jensen looks so good with facial hair, and since I don’t know how I would even write for Soldier Boy I decided to write for Dean.
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It was a peaceful night in the bunker for once, after all the shit you and everyone else had to deal with you at least thought you deserved on night of relaxation.
You were thumbing through a book about creatures, Dean asleep next to you. Smiling lightly you shook your head then snapped the book closed. It looked all to inviting and you could already feel your eyes start to close. Biting back a yawn you clicked off the small light then rested your head on Deans chest, his arm curling around you as you drifted off to sleep.
+•+
Dean never expected to get such a good nights sleep though slowly opening his eyes he glanced down to find you sleeping next to him. Fingers gliding down your back for a moment he one he was lucky to have you in his life, never did he expect to find love in such a shitty world.
Feeling you stir, he watched as you slowly open your eyes. A teasing grin on the man’s face though it quickly slipped off as a snort escaped your lips followed by a few more giggles.
“Hey what are you laughing at?”
Still giggling, you struggled to stifle your laughter as your hands slipped up to pat the man’s hair down that was a complete mess. Hair sticking up widely as Dean quickly slipped out of the bed rushing off to the bathroom.
“Very cute.”
Grinning you followed Dean to the bathroom as your arms slipped around his waist. Your head resting on his shoulder.
“I really need to shave.”
Scoffing you placed your lips against his cheek as you then let your hands slide under his shirt. “I think you should keep it, you look good with the scruffy look Dean, very sexy.”
Turning to face you a smirk slowly formed on his face as he placed his hands on your hips. “Hmm really? Are you feeling a little naughty today?”
Letting your fingers trail down his cheek you hummed shrugging your shoulders. “What if I am?”
“Well we should remedy that matter, shouldn’t we?”
Carrying you out of the bathroom and back into the room he placed you on the bed.
“I think we should, so what are you waiting for Dean?”
Pushing your shirt up he pulled you in for a kiss, his beard tickling your skin and right now he really didn’t care about his hair.
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charred-angelwings · 2 years
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We are now living in the ✨Scruffy Beard and Wispy Hair✨ Era of Jared and Jensen and I am just so very grateful for it 🥹
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clairedelune-13 · 2 years
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So...does this new regular spot on Big Sky mean Jensen is contractually obligated to maintain a beard and longish hair? Cuz it fuckin’ better.
Bring on the scruffy! 💚💚💚💚💚
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Your Personal Bodyguard
Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Warnings: close to being kidnapped, daughter of a mafia boss
Summary: Your dad thinks you need a new bodyguard because you’re the mafia boss’ daughter. You can very well take care of yourself, so you do everything to try and get rid of him... doesn’t turn out so well for you.
Square Filled: bodyguard!jensen (2022) for @spnaubingo​
Author’s Note: this is based on a tiktok! here is the link. go follow the person who made the video!
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Life is hard as the daughter of a mafia boss. Your dad takes your protection very seriously after the many attempts and three successful times that you were kidnapped because of him. It isn’t always easy, but you enjoy the life that comes with it.
You’re rich, you have plenty of real friends, you go to a really good college, and you never have to worry about small things like privacy as you live in a pretty big mansion. It’s one of your dad’s many houses that he has all over the world, and by far, your favorite.
The only downside to living this luxurious life is the fact that your dad thinks you need a bodyguard.
You’ve gone through six in the last year alone to prove to him that you’re more than capable of protecting yourself. After the first kidnapping, you started taking karate and boxing and self defense classes. You’ve also taken part in shooting competitions and archery classes to get used to different weapons. Now, you’re a black belt who can whoop any one’s ass if they come for you.
Still, your dad believes having a bodyguard will be good for you. If he only knew that you can protect yourself better now.
“Do we really have to do this? You know I’ve gotten better. I can defend myself.”
“It’s not about defending yourself, sweetheart. I can’t lose you… not after I’ve lost your mother.”
“Dad, I’m twenty. I can kick anyone’s ass.”
“That I don’t doubt. This is just something that needs to happen.”
You roll your eyes, but you wait for the new bodyguard to show up. He has less than two minutes to show up or else he is going to be late. Everyone who works for your father knows they’re not supposed to be late. The front door opens right on the dot, and you sag your shoulders in defeat. You’re already thinking of ways to get rid of him, but as soon as you see him, your mouth goes dry.
He’s by far the sexiest bodyguard you’ve ever had. Tall (at least six foot), short dirty blonde hair, forest green eyes (the kind of green you only read about in books), defined muscles, and a scruffy beard that makes you wonder how much of a beard burn you can get. He may be handsome, but he’s just like the rest of them.
You’ll get rid of him easily, no problem.
“Jensen, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is your new bodyguard.”
“For now,” you mumble under your breath, but you think he heard.
“It’s a pleasure, sir,” Jensen says, shaking your father’s hand.
“Okay, I have meetings all day,” your father says, turning to you. “Behave.”
“Wait, can’t I go to the mall with my friends? We’re supposed to go shopping for her party.”
“No. You’re not to leave this house, understand?” Your father turns to Jensen, and your bodyguard keeps a stoic look on his face. “Make sure she doesn’t leave the house.”
“Yes, sir.”
You roll your eyes at your father’s overprotectiveness. Your dad gathers his things and kisses your head as he passes by, leaving the house altogether. Jensen has not taken his eyes off you since he arrived, and you turn to head upstairs. Jensen, of course, follows you without question. You get to your bedroom but before he can enter, you turn and place your hand on the doorframe, preventing him from going inside.
“I don’t think so. I’ll be changing, so unless you’d like me to tell my dad how you’re a pervert, then I suggest you stay outside.”
Jensen looks you up and down, and for a split second, you think about inviting him inside to watch you.
“Fine, I’ll be right outside.” You smile sweetly and close the door, losing the smile instantly. “You know, try as you might, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”
“You’ll leave sooner or later!” you call out.
You quickly get changed into your outfit for your friend’s party. It’s a strapless dress that goes right above your knees. Knowing you have to get rid of Jensen before you can try and sneak out, you grab your comforter and wrap it around your body to make it look like you’re naked. You open the door slightly and pop your head out, making sure to show him that you could be naked.
“Jensen? Could you do me a favor and grab me a towel from the hall closet? I’d like to take a shower.”
“Sure,” he sighs.
He moves from his spot by the door and heads to the hall closet at the end of the hallway. As soon as he has his back turned to you, you drop the blanket and quickly escape. You rush down the marbled stairs with your shoes in hand since you don’t want to make noise going down them. You think you’ve gotten away, but when you grasp the doorknob, Jensen’s veiny hand grips your wrist to prevent you from leaving.
“Nice try,” he chuckles.
“No offense, you’re a bodyguard not a babysitter.”
“For you, I’m both. Get your ass back upstairs.”
“Make me.”
“Don’t test me,” he growls. “It’s your father’s orders.”
“I’ll sneak out.”
“Not handcuffed to the bed, you won’t.”
Without speaking, he bends and grisp your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You hit his back and scream, but he holds you close to his body. He walks back up the stairs with ease, heading straight to your bedroom. He throws you down on your bed, but before you can scramble away, he removes handcuffs from his back pocket and slaps it on your right wrist. He then locks the other one to your headboard.
“Now stay.”
You’re glaring at him with such hatred, but he doesn’t care. He shakes his head and leaves your room, closing the door behind him. You wait a few seconds before removing one of the bobby pins from your hair. You’ve been the daughter of a mafia boss long enough to know that you needed to have weapons and accessories disguised as normal household objects. Your bobby pins will get you out of handcuffs easily. Jensen is stupid if he thinks you won’t do this.
You actually had to practice breaking out of the handcuffs and ropes just in case you needed to get out of a dangerous situation.
Getting out of these handcuffs is child’s play, and you’re free in no time. You grab different shoes from your closet and hold them in your hand because you’re going to put them on once you’re outside. You always have your keys with you, so you grab those and your small clutch.
Using your window as an escape hatch, you leave through it and parkour your way down to the ground. You slip on your shoes and head to your car without looking back. You don’t want to give Jensen time to catch you before you could leave.
Your friend’s party is blocks away, so you head over there quickly, easily finding a parking spot. You head inside the bass-dropping house, smiling at all your friends who are inside.
“Glad you could make it!” they squeal.
Only your best friend knows who your father is and what’s really going on. Your other friends are clueless, and you’d rather keep it that way. You need someone to talk to whenever something crazy happens, so you trust your best friend to keep your secrets.
“Did your new bodyguard come today?” your best friend asks, taking you off to the side.
“Yes and he's fucking hot. But, I’ll get rid of him in no time,” you giggle.
Everyone at the party is having a good time, and you’re already forgetting about Jensen. You dance for two hours, working up a really good sweat. If you want to continue to be here, you really need a smoke. Growing up with a mafia boss, you’ve gotten accustomed to the smell of cigarette smoke. You don’t do it very often, but every once in a while, you like to enjoy a cigarette.
You reach into your clutch and pull out a cigarette, cursing when you realize that you didn’t bring your lighter with you. You look through your entire clutch, but it’s not there.
“Need a light?”
You look up to see one of your classmates smiling at you. He’s kind of cute, but nowhere as near as cute at Jensen.
“Yeah, actually. Thank you.”
He takes out his lighter just as two more guys show up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you’re suddenly conscious of those around you. You don’t light your cigarette because you don’t need the distraction.
“So, you’re Antonio’s daughter, huh?”
You were right to be cautious. These teenagers know who your dad is. That means they know what he does.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you’re talking about.” You turn to leave, but one of the men blocks your way. “Please leave me alone. I don’t know who Antonio is.”
“Your face is plastered all over my dad’s wall. Of course I know who you are.”
You start to run away, but the three teenagers grab you so that you don’t escape. You go to yell, but one of them slaps their hand over your mouth. Your life flashes before your eyes, but luckily, you don’t have to imagine a world where you’re kidnapped… again.
One of the teeangers is ripped from your body, and you look up to see Jensen there with rage in his eyes. He doesn't care if they’re kids or not, he will beat whoever dares to put their hands on you.
“Jensen, stop!” you yell.
He punches each of them to the ground, not caring about whether he broke their jaws or not. When he knows they’re not going to be a problem, he turns to you with fire in his eyes.
“Get in the car.”
He walks away without room for argument, so you huff out in annoyance before grabbing your clutch that fell on the ground.
“I could have taken them.”
“Yeah, okay,” he scoffs. He opens the passenger door of his car and turns to you. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder to get rid of me.” You’re going to leave your car here and pick it up later, so you move to get into the car. “If you even think about sneaking out again, I’ll break both your legs.”
“Are you going to tell my dad about this?” you ask, looking at him through your lashes.
“No, but try it again and your dad isn’t the one you need to worry about.”
“Kinky,” you smirk.
“Get in the car.”
Maybe having Jensen around isn't going to be such a bad thing.
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