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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months

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the murder at evergreen university

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

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.

“…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!”

“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.”

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…”

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.”

“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.

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…”

“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.”

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.”

“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…”

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.”

916 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 3 months

Note

For your Valentine's ask game: #7 Jake Jensen x reader, idk why but it seems fitting 😂

Shut Up, Jensen, one of my Valentine's Fics for 2024!

Oh, this poor, poor, awkward perv. He's pervy until there's a naked lady around and then 😳 "...when I was four, I shoved pennies up my nose..." Seriously, boi, shut up!

Warnings for spice, i.e. a setup to smutty times, but mostly suggestive. MINORS DNI, just to be safe. There's plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this one is not for you! WC 1042

You’ve always had a soft spot for nerds, and now, that’s translating to a damp spot on your fanciest panties you wore for this date.

Jake Jensen goofy-grinned his way through the entire evening, making you almost snort a tequila sunrise through your nose, and he never let up. The humor made you comfortable. It’s endearing to see his nervousness right on his graphic-T sleeve as opposed to being ‘manly’ and aloof.

It’s so, so refreshing to hear someone say, “I’m having a great time,” “I don’t want the night to end,” and know deep down in your bones that they mean “spending this time with you has made me happy” instead of “I’ve done enough to get laid now, right?”

Unsurprisingly, it does mean Jake’s done enough to get laid.

You give him your address so he could park his Jeep outside your building. There are parking meters, but tomorrow is Sunday when they’re free. No big deal. You left the bar (which was after the restaurant, which was after the coffee shop) a minute or two before in order to meet him at one of the open spots and walk him in. He can’t meet you at your door because there is a locked gate to your courtyard, and then a keypad for your building, and then about three corridors to navigate. It’s just easier to show him the way.

You can hear that fucking car coming a mile away.

Jake smiles and waves as he parallel parks—with extreme precision, you note—then hops out, gesturing to the meter questioningly.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrug, jumping to the edge of the curb before he steps up so you can use the height for a kiss on his cheek.

It’s adorable how flustered he gets at just that tiny bit of affection. Though it’s dark, it’s obvious he blushes ferociously, rubbing at the back of his cropped, short hair, racing to gather his thoughts.

“Did you know there are almost three hundred ways to make change for a dollar? Two hundred ninety-three to be ex—woah—“

You grab his hand to lead him inside.

At the gate, you have to pause for the magnetic lock.

“I’m surprised those things even take change anymore,” Jake muses quietly, courteous for the neighbors’ sake, “because physical money only makes up 8% today’s currency…in the whole world.” He slides past the thick steel grating. “Thank you, digital banking.”

He follows behind you in the maze of concrete paths to the next entry.

“People leave like half a million dollars worth of loose change at airport security. That’s a little shocking,” he whispers when you motion for him to take a left, “think you’d splurge for some decent toilet paper with that kind of dough, or maybe some more cup holders in those row-seats? They could, I don’t know, offset the cost of making pennies. Shit cost two cents. Is worth one. Wild…

“Meanwhile, a dime has 118 ridges on the rim of the smallest circumference.”

Doesn’t even matter what he’s saying, the more his plump pink lips move, the more insanely turned on you get. You have to crowd him through your own doorway before you start stripping in the middle of the hall.

You peel your blouse off the instant your keys clatter onto the dinette table. You spin around to grab him by the screen-printed emblem of his t-shirt.

“There are 1.4 billion $2 bills in circulation.”

He gives a little oof sound when his back hits one of your bedroom walls, and there’s a barely audible whimper as your hands snake up under soft, well-worn fabric.

Holy shit, is this boy cut!

Your thumbs actually catch on the deep ridge of his Adonis belt. Dimes got nothing on you, Jake Jensen…

His breathing has changed significantly. “Did you know they—“ he gasps and swallows “—still make those?”

Ok, why is it hotter when he’s not even trying?

“Fun fact: if you went to Zimbabwe, guess which currency you’d…use?” The neckline of his shirt has to pop over his glasses before he fixes them. “The U.S. Dollar. Seriously! Same damn mon—EH.”

His belt buckle is tricky to navigate from this angle and in the very low light of your bedside lamp. You give up on his pants to unzip your skirt at the hip and let it fall.

Jake stands perfectly still with his hands half-raised.

“You’re…really fucking pretty—sorry—really pret—sexy, not that I—but beautiful. You’re really—”

He sucks in a breath as you step within inches of him again, reaching up to carefully pull his glasses over his ears and place them by the lamp.

“Fuck…”

Your index finger tucks into the elastic of his boxers where they peek out above the belt.

“Yeah, so I’ve been—I’m—I don’t have a—what I’m trying to say is—“ he squeezes his eyes shut and wiggles his fingers higher in the air, searching for the right thought “—the most commonly printed bill is actually the one-hundr—“

“Jake,” you interrupt, gently smoothing your hands over his thick shoulders. He is so ripped, what the hell? You guess there are nerds and then there are nerds, wow…

“Do you want to continue?”

He nods super fast, eyes growing wide in panic.

“Good.”

You smash your lips to his, hauling him down and you up by the sturdy tower of muscle he is.

“Condoms are in the drawer,” you mutter between breaths.

He lets out a high, choked whine before clamping his huge, warm hands to your waist, melting into you and your touch.

You coax the both of you toward the bed, swatting at his belt as a signal for him to help, and he does, though he’s not the greatest multitasker. He huffs and smirks, breaking the kiss so he can unlatch, unbutton, and unzip.

Then he looks up at you.

“So you like movies…?”

You cup his jaw in your hand and pinch, a gentle peck on his lips as encouragement to focus. “Less talking, more fucking, Jensen.”

He opens his mouth, clearly running through a series of replies, but thinks better of it and pushes down his pants and boxers all at once.

Lloyd Hansen and a kiss on a place of insecurity ⬅️ ➡️ Steve Rogers and a kiss on a scar

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @peyton--warren Y'all getting sick of me yet???

#jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen smut #jake jensen fluff #ro answers #valentine's day fanfic #valentine's day prompts

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babyjakes · 8 months

Text

mess of a lesson.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | you refused to go before you left, and now you must pay the price.

pairing | soft!dark!daddies!jake jensen and ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | ddlg (two daddies!!!!). uhh, jakey and ari are definitely MAKING her piss/cum so,, dark/non/dubcon perhaps. holding down/restraining. fingering. clit play. anal play/fingering. forced orgasm. squirting+++. watersports: forced wetting (DUH!!!!). so much mocking/degradation holy shit. petnames. praise.

word count | 1,090

dedication | this fic is dedicated to my angel my bby my sweetie pie ms. @brandycranby, ily my fellow piss enthusiast <33

an | absolutely no one asked for this but. here are my favorite soft daddies acting out my deepest darkest fantasy with sweet little reader, i have been dying to write this smutty trio for soooo long (this is a similar matchup/dynamic to daddy!ari, caregiver!jakey, and wren in egem) and at this point fuck it, here you all go. hope this'll help you understand why i'm down so fucking bad for these guys.

"No Daddy— please!" You can't tell who your words are directed at as you writhe weakly against Ari's strong set of arms as they hold you firmly with your back against his chest. As much as you struggle, there's no getting out for you as he restrains you on his lap.

"Easy, baby. Don't make this harder than it needs to be," the brown-haired man hums, managing to hold you securely against him with just a single arm wrapped around your waist. "Quit fighting us, honey. C'mon, be a good girl."

"Oh sweetie," your other daddy murmurs as he sits in front of you. Jake's expression is much softer than his partner's, his gaze full of concern and sympathy as he reaches out and strokes your cheek. "Don't cry, pretty girl. We're gonna take such good care of you, right Ari?" he checks in with the larger man who's guiding your legs apart, holding them open with his own.

"Nooo!" you whine as your flimsy little tennis skirt is flipped up and out of the way. Jake takes a gentle hand and runs his fingers up and down your clothed pussy, nodding expectingly as a dark wet patch soon appears.

"Our poor little baby, she knows what's coming," Ari murmurs against your ear as he reaches his free hand down to join Jake's. "Seems like she's getting excited, Jake. What do you think?"

"Think you must be right," Jake agrees as he reaches down, effortlessly ripping the thin strip of fabric covering your burning heat in half. "There," he coos, using both hands to spread you out nice and wide. "Go ahead," he nods to Ari, "let's help our little girl go potty, hmm? Since she can't seem to know when she needs to, herself."

Ari lets out a low, grumbly hum in agreement as his expert fingers find your pool of juices, dragging up some of your slick to hone in on your little bundle of nerves. "There," he smiles as you jerk against both of the men's ministrations. "Keep holding her open for me, Jake. Just like that, shouldn't be long..."

The tips of his fingers burn against your throbbing button as big tears roll down your cheeks. "Don't cry, sweetheart. You asked for this, remember? How many times did we ask if you had to go before we left?" the sterner man demands. Jake watches with his brow raised, thankful that Ari is willing to be firm with you when needed.

"A-... a-... a-a lot, Daddy," you stammer apologetically.

"Mhmm," Ari nods as Jake repositions his hands, giving the man behind you the best possible access to your aching clit, and the best possible view of your soaking cunt to himself. "And only ten minutes into the drive, we had to turn right back around, because someone started crying about having to go potty. Is that right, angel?" he continues his cruel lecturing. You nod, groaning and whimpering as a familiar tightness begins building somewhere deep in your core. "So this is what you get, princess. You know the rules. Naughty little girls who don't go potty when they're supposed to need to be punished."

"That's right," Jake coos regretfully as he shifts to hold the hood of your clit back with one hand, using the other to gently begin prodding at your tiny rosebud as your wetness drips down between your spread cheeks. "This is just to help you learn, sweet thing. Now, are you gonna be a good girl for us, hm? Be a good girl for your daddies, give them what they want?"

"I don't think she has much of a choice," Ari chuckles as he feels your breaths deepening against him. "Look at her, poor little thing. Her tummy's so full, I bet if we just..." You let out a startled squeak as he moves his arm down to press his muscular forearm right against your aching bladder.

"Nooo Daddy! Please, s-stop!" you howl, but Ari only kisses the side of your head as he rubs your clit in faster, tighter circles, watching over your shoulder as Jake presses a single finger into your tight little bottom.

"C'mon cutie, don't fight us," Jake smiles reassuringly as he gently works his digit against your sensitive inner walls, the burning sensation the movement creates nearly unbearable. "Be good and cum for your daddies. What do you think, Ari? Looks like she's almost there."

"Just a little more, right there," Ari sings as he rolls your hardened clit between his fingers, his sadistic grin growing as he sees you nearing the end of your rope. "There it is. Now cum for us, little girl," his voice darkens. At his words, you snap, your back arching off of Ari's chest as you're forced to release against the cruel hands of your torturers. "There you go, baby. Keep cumming. Fuck, this bitch is really making a mess," he laughs.

"There, that's it," Jake croons after him, both of the men completely mesmerized by the sight of you pissing yourself and orgasming at the same time. "Poor baby girl, was holding in sooo much in that sweet little tummy of hers. It just keeps coming and coming, huh?"

"Sure does," Ari agrees as your contractions finally begin to die down, leaving you a whimpering, breathless mess as you lie limply against your daddy out of pure exhaustion. Once the last of the spasming ceases, Ari brings his hand up to brush your hair back from your face, loosening his arm around you to take pressure off your emptied bladder. "Good girl," he soothes, kissing you again against your temple.

You wince as Jake removes his finger from you, using his other hand to reach up and rub your poor little tummy under your shirt. "Easy, cutie. You're okay; you did it, sweetie! You were so good, such a good girl for your daddies."

"Such a brave girl," Ari agrees, sharing a smile and loving glance with Jake. "She's getting better at it each time. Less fighting and tears, she knows what's best. Don't you, baby?" You nod obediently, earning a pleased hum of approval from both of the men.

"Now let's go get you cleaned off, huh sweetheart?" Jake suggests as Ari slowly helps you to your feet. Your legs tremble beneath you as you look down at the puddle on the floor. "Don't worry about that, baby. We'll get it cleaned up. I think your clothes might need a run in the wash, though. What do you say?"

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royalsweetteaa · 9 months

Note

Hi! I really like your HC AU. Could you do one of how Cevans characters would react to reader flinching during an argument?

Oooh I love this idea! 🥹💔 Let’s get to it!

POV: Y/N flinches in midst of an argument.

Warning - The following HC contains: angst/fluff, comfort, reader has hinted trauma.

Steve Rogers

Steve would cut himself off and stare at you. “Doll, why did you wince like that?…did I raise my voice too loud? I didn’t mean to if I did but I….you know me…I have never and wouldn’t…” Steve begins to ramble a little with his words as he processes what just happened. “Who hurt you, my love? Please, tell me…I’m worried…this had to have come from somewhere, right?” Steve asks as he’s ready to receive an explanation while pulling you in to stroke your back gently. He listens, already plotting in his head to pay ‘someone’ a visit responsible for your trauma response.

Ransom Drysdale

Ransom raises his eyebrows as he sees you flinch and he furrows, confused. “Kitten,…did you seriously think I was about to hit you just now?” Ransom would ask with his arms crossed. “…Do you think I would steep that low?” A part of him takes offense as he first assumes that’s the whole story, but the pieces pick up slowly that this could have come from a previous encounter. He sighs, realizing he’s handling this poorly. “Darling…I didn’t mean for you to react that way. I hope you’re not scared of me…are you?” He’s relieved when you shake your head, and he decides it’s best if you both take a break from arguing. He comforts you, reassuring there’s nothing to be worried about. He hopes you’ll eventually tell him and explain on your own why you flinched.

Andy Barber

Andy would shut his mouth the moment he sees you flinch, and he would stay still as he processes the moment. When he receives your look of feeling guilty, his face softens, “Oh honey…it’s okay, let’s stop arguing about this and talk about what happened, okay? Did I scare you?” He asks first, not wanting to put much pressure on you. He wants to know right away if it was him who had caused you to flinch, and he wants you to feel safe so he speaks in his most soothing tone. When he sees you’re not reacting negatively to his closeness, he pulls you in to an embrace, making you feel safe.

Jake Jensen

Jake would stiffen, wondering what just happened to make you flinch. “Are you okay? You just flinched as if I was going to…” his heart breaks in a million pieces as he puts two and two together. He carefully takes your hands to give you reassurance. “Baby, what happened? Was it me?…You know you can talk to me about anything…I’m all ears, always.” Jake would reassure as he makes you sit down on the couch with him encouraging a chat about it. This incident would bother Jake for a long time, and he would often catch himself in future mid-arguments asking if he’s not coming across as too aggressive to make sure you won’t react like that ever again.

Johnny Storm

Johnny’s sentence would die out the moment he sees you wince and ask, “What was that?”, distraught and confused. “Did you just…” he doesn’t complete his sentence as he flattens his hands and raises them. “Babe,…I’m never putting my hand on you…my parents, while they died when I was very young raised me good enough to know that’s never okay…I wouldn’t do that even if you called me names or cursed at me like Ben always does!” He makes light out of the situation to distract you and pulls you in to caress you when he sees a small smile form on your lips, already leaving you two to forget about what you were even arguing about.

Ari Levinson

Ari’s response to you flinching would be to take a step back and give space between the two of you. He’s encountered women with traumatic responses before and knows that to deescalate the trigger, he needs to show he isn’t going to do any harm, like raising his hand. He would then say to you in a soothing voice, “Sweetheart,…I apologize if I came off as heated just now…let’s put this aside and think of something else, alright?” He would then crouch down, look up at you and making himself small to further deescalate your trauma response. You would respond getting closer to him and come into his welcoming and warm embrace, as you know Ari’s safe. It’s all forgotten and Ari doesn’t see any point of bringing up the argument again. Your feeling of safety comes first.

Thank you @imyourbratzdoll for helping me out a little on this one! ♥️🥰

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

#cevans characters hcs #cevans characters x reader #cevans characters #ce characters x reader #steve rogers x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ari levinson x female reader #johnny storm x reader #jake jensen x reader #andy barber x reader #steve rogers x y/n #ransom drysdale x y/n #ari levinson x y/n #johnny storm x y/n #jake jensen x y/n #andy barber x y/n

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rainydayandmondays · 6 months

Text

It's Cold

Summary: Ransom wakes up to a chilly, fall morning with nothing to really combat the cold he feels. It doesn’t help that Jake has you hogged across the bed to himself.

Pairing: Jake Jensen X Reader, Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, fingering (women receiving), creampie.

Author's note: It's been a while since I've written anything for a fandom. We'll see how this goes 🤷🏾‍♀️

Chapter 1 in All is Well series written with @buckybarnesisdaddy and @theinheriteddutchess.

Early November

Waking to soft puffs of air on the back of your neck, you’re aware of the bear hug hold that Jake has on you. He’s worn his favorite Stars Wars t-shirt and boxer briefs to bed. But they do little against the fall morning. The temperatures had just started changing and even though outside was no autumn landscape, the cooler air of last night had caught you by surprise. Jake pulled you tight to the curve of his body, greedily soaking up any body heat that radiates off you. He was a covers hog as much as he was a cuddler. And while most times he preferred being the big spoon, there were nights that he curled into you. Your arms did little to reach across his broad chest and left you circling his trim waist. He liked those nights, your hands always seemed to wander down in your sleep. In the morning, he would wake to your hand tucked just under his waistband. His dick somehow knew it was you and reached out for the tips of your fingers. Like it knew it belonged there.

As Jake continues to snore into the crook of your neck, you blink away the sleep to see your other companion. Ransom Drysdale was a new addition. Where Jake was nothing but ready to please, his golden retriever energy taking over most of his personality, Ransom was like one of those temperamental Bengal cats. It’s leopard coat just flashy enough to catch anyone’s attention. But those paws always ready to swat away at anyone who had the gall to get too close. He did things on his terms, living to be contrary to everything and everyone. He had fought you, ready to prove that he didn’t need anyone, especially not you. The others had tried to get to know him and all had quickly been caught on the wrong side of his harsh tongue and haughty expression. It was Jake, his complete opposite, that had brought him around. More specifically, the way that Jake was with you. Jake didn’t care how he looked tagging along behind you. He didn’t care how small he looked letting you be the big spoon. And the way you called him Jakey. Were you trying to infantilize him? Even now, Jake had so wholly wrapped himself around you, you would think that he thought you would vanish from his bare hands.

Ransom had woken up before either of you. The cold nipped at his body. He always preferred sleeping in the nude. However, you made him promise to at least wear underwear when all three of you were together. Most nights he would come to bed with your required attire, only to slip them off and kick them to the bottom of the bed. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved the squeak of surprise you would give if you rolled into him during the night. He wasn’t ashamed of what he had to offer, never had any complaints. But there was something extra special about you finding him and his little friend in the night. The fact that he disobeyed made it all the better.

But now he lay there, the cool of the room getting to him and you across the bed snuggled into Jake. He frowned as he watched the two of you peacefully laying together. He wasn’t jealous in the slightest. Never could be. It was cold, just cold. Jake’s snoring wasn’t helping either. He stared at you, daring you to wake up. You couldn’t be that comfortable. Reaching up, he drew a line down the side of your face. His fingers tingled from the warmth of your cheek. You had to feel that. You twitched slightly, letting a little moan slip out. That got his attention and he twitched himself, all be it a little lower. He reached out again, this time going down and then up your cheek. That did it.

You caught Ransom quickly lowering his hand beneath the blankets. The outline of his profile in your direct eyeline. You watched as he pretended to sleep.

“Ran?” You whisper his name, careful not to wake the IT expert behind you. You reach out to lay a hand on his bare chest. Ransom always liked to complain about the cold. Except for sleeping, he was always wrapped in some kind of sweater. Wooly, cable knight, it didn’t matter. Feeling his skin, you feel the coolness of his chest. That cool touch you felt is starting to make more and more sense.

“Ransom?” Hearing his full name causes the corner of him mouth to twitch. Smug bastard was going to be difficult this morning.

Rolling towards Jake, you ignore the small huff leave Ransom.

“Jakey?” Reaching out to put a hand against Jake’s cheek, you feel him pull you closer, his legs locking with yours.

The small moan he lets out as you start to follow the lines of his sideburns, let’s you know that at least one of them would listen to you this morning.

“Jakey, wake up.” Your second call to him has his eyes fluttering open. You see as he tries to focus in on your face without his glasses. Once he zeroes in on your soft smile, he sighs softly, leaning in to give you a small peck.

“Morning precious,” you smile at the nickname. After making the mistake of letting him know how you never really got The Lord of Rings, he set out to show you the entire trilogy over the span of a holiday weekend. By the second movie, he had taken to quietly mouthing Gollum’s lines. When calling him out on it, he turned to you and whispered “My precious.” The nickname had stuck ever since.

“Can you go see if Bucky’s made breakfast?” You watch as his forehead creases. The three of you are usually the last to the breakfast table each morning. The sun was barely breaking its way through the curtains. It couldn’t be time to go down just yet.

Staring down at you, he goes to question your request until he sees Ransom shift behind you. The way he subtly inches towards you, feigning sleep while his mouth inches into a slight smirk. Jake looks back to you, seeing your eyes silently pleading that he understand.

Jake understood. He always did. Your arrangement maybe different from societal norms, but when had he ever worried about that. When you found him bent down picking up small baggies of orange slices outside of his niece’s soccer game, you hadn’t judge him. Just smiled down at him and helped get the remaining bags into his backpack. Even after months of dating when he let you know about his real job, not the fake corporate IT one that he told everyone, you had just smiled. He moved into the house shortly after and readily took on the role of your person. There were others in the house, but he was yours.

When Ransom entered the picture, he saw how hard he fought everyone. It was going to take time for him to trust and be trusted. Jake pitied him. He just needed someone to not judge him. You, who hadn’t judged all his dorky attributes, laughed at his awkward jokes, and didn’t run after learning about his elite task force, you could help Ransom. Lying in bed a few months into Ransom being here, he suggested that he move to your room. And as before, you just smiled up at him.

“Okay,” Jake nodded leaving you with a longer morning kiss this time.

Watching Jake grab his hoodie off the back of his desk chair and hustle out the room, you turn back to Ransom. This time you find him facing you, eyes staring down at you, the smirk full blown.

“It’s cold,” at his remark, you give him your own smirk and scoot over to snuggle into his chest. Ransom would never ask specifically to be held. He didn’t need that. Two people embracing without it leading to fucking. What was the point of that? He just needed you to get close enough and his little friend should be able to take over.

Moving closer to him, you quickly gasp as you figure out just why he’s so cold. Little bastard broke the rules again. Looking up at him, you see his tongue quickly jut out to lick his bottom lip, “What’s wrong, princess?”

You shake your head at him, bowing it to fit beneath his chin. You’re not sure where the nickname came from. Knowing Ransom, it was to either get under Jake’s skin with a term of endearment too close to his for you. Or he probably thought he was being smart by playing off the fact that when it came to this room, you were in charge.

Feeling you breathe against his collarbone, Ransom runs his hand down your thigh, grabbing just under your knee. Hiking it over his hip, he leans into you. Fuck this cuddling.

“Ran,” you chastised him as he griped your hip and began palming your ass cheek.

“It’s. Cold,” he punctuated each word, moving your hips closer and causing your breath to hitch. The heat from you radiating through your underwear, giving him just a taste of what your warmth felt like. If only he could maneuver the both of you just right, he knew he could slip in. He was confident you would be ready for him.

“What do you need, Ran?” His eyes snapped down towards you. So concentrated in pressing you against him, he hadn’t noticed you staring at him. He hated this question. What could he possibly need? You always did this. Tried to reduce him to some needy little thing. You had Jake the puppy to be that for you. He was Ransom Drysdale for fuck’s sake. If anything, you should be needing him. You did need him, he could tell you that you needed him in your pebbled nipples he could feel through your nightshirt and your thigh tightening around him.

“I need you to stop being a bitch so we can fuck,” he growled down at you.

Your answer was instant, as you quickly untangled yourself from his grasp and started to roll towards the other end of the bed. You don’t get to roll away. Not from him. His hand shot to your wrist pulling you back. You looked at him incredulously, body tight, as the corners of your mouth pinched in. He could tell he fucked up. But what’s it to him. If anything, he could go find one of the others and have them bounce on his cock for him. He didn’t need you. He didn’t need anyone.

He stared back at you, willing you to break first from this Mexican standoff. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. That should do the trick. You hated his smirk, knowing he only did it because he’s an asshole. You would throw him out of the room, send him downstairs to think about what he said. Any second now, you would yell at him to get out.

Looking at Ransom, purposely wearing that smirk, you see his eyes flicker down in almost regret. It’s a split second, if anything, and he quickly recovers his smug mask. You sigh, knowing that he was a spoiled brat. But only because he had learned that was only way to get attention. Ransom needed attention, constant attention. For him, your attention meant you cared, and if you cared, maybe you could like him. If you liked him, maybe you could comfort him. If you comforted him, maybe he could feel loved.

The tension leaves your body and you relax back down next to him. With your wrist still in his hand, he doesn’t notice your other hand reach under the covers. Sure that he has won, his smirk falls into a true smile until he feels you grab onto him. It’s not your first time handling him, you know how to tight to squeeze and where to rub. You slide up and down, giving him a few languid strokes before using the type of your fingernail to gently scratch along the head. His body’s response is immediate. A low groan leaving his throat, as he dribbles onto your fingers.

“Is this what you need, Ran?” Exhaling harshly through his nose, he bites down on his tongue to stop from answering. Gazing up at him, you stroke him a bit more, running her fingernail along the vein on the underside of him. You notice the tick in his jaw as he bares down, refusing to admit to needing this. Your shirt having ridden up, you trap him between his pelvis and your tummy. Rubbing him along your soft belly, he slides easily as he continues to drip onto you.

Jolting at the sensation of your skin against him, he tightens his grasp on your wrist still trapped between your torsos. Peeking up at him, you catch his blown pupils gazing down at you. You let a quick smile go just to push his buttons that bit more. He answers by grabbing onto your leg, hiking it back over his hip. His hand inches over your ass before disappearing under the edge of your underwear.

The slick his fingers encounter quickly coats them and he runs his index and middle over your lips. He could feel them getting puffy, imagining how they looked cushioning his two fingers. He slid them back and forth, just nudging at your little hood that was just starting to pull back. One more pass and he shoves them into you. You audibly gasp into his neck and he just watches you, dazed at you crumbling under him. Your own hand continues to press him against your tummy, encouraging him to rut onto you.

“Stop,” your response is strong given your labored breathing. He stops the glide of his fingers but gives one final tap to that spongey spot that always leaves you humming. You glare at him as you untangle your wrist from his hold to push him onto his back.

Swinging your leg over his hips, you straddle him as his hands on your thighs steady you. Pushing you your underwear to the side, you hold him in place as you lower onto him. His fingers dig into your hips as you drop. There’s that warmth he needed.

Fully seated, you lean forward placing your forehead against his. He was sure you were going in for a kiss. If you needed a kiss, he figured he could give you that. He mouth parts, waiting for your move, only for you to whisper against his lips, “Fuck your princess.”

Well, fuck him if that didn’t make something in his head switch on. He brought up his legs, using the purchase the bed gave his feet and started pumping into you. You bounced atop him, your arms wrapping around his neck. The needy little moans spilling out of you and onto his lips, as your fingers tangled into his hair. He could feel you clenching around him and he knew he had you. Reaching a hand over, he rubbed at that little pearl, tapping at it on every downstroke. You finally broke with a choked yelp and he felt your vice grip surround him.

“Take it. Take it,” he babbles as your walls flutter around him, urging his balls to pull up, and let go. He heard your little squeak as he held you to him, shooting what had to be a week’s worth of cum. He feels you kiss him as he pumps into you. He knew you needed that. As he came down, you milked him a couple of times, squeezing gently as you laid on his chest.

Rolling off of him, you turn to him, his eyes closed and his breathing quieting.

“Still cold?” He chuckles at your question, licking his lips and turning towards you.

“It wouldn’t be such a problem, if your other one didn’t insist on hogging the covers.” Sighing, you read his comment for what it is. Ransom would never ask to be held. Ransom doesn’t need you.

“It’s not that you’re cold. You’re actually hot. You’re a furnace. You don’t retain heat, you radiate it.” He smirks at your analysis, readying a smart comeback, you cut him off, “Go take a shower.”

He snickers before sitting up and searching for his underwear that’s bunched at the bottom of the bed. Purposely bending in front of you to bring his boxer briefs up, he makes sure you get a show of it. He knew you needed that.

Opening the bedroom door, you hear him remark, “You can go in now, puppy.”

“Ran,” you scolded him, to which he holds his hands up and walks out.

Grabbing the duvet from the edge of the bed, you see Jake come in with a mug of what hopefully is Bucky’s freshly brewed coffee.

“Okay to come back in?” You nod at his question as he nudges the door close with his foot, before approaching you with a Yoda mug.

“Bucky is still working on breakfast. It’s French toast day. He was still dipping the toast in egg when I went down, so the coffee wasn’t ready yet. But he walked me through the whole process.” You smiled at Jake as he rambles. More than likely he’s already had his morning cup waiting to return to bed. Accepting the mug, you take a few snips before putting it down on the nightstand.

“Come back to bed,” Lifting the duvet, you reach for Jake. He doesn’t need to be told twice. Hurrying to his side of the bed, he whips his hoodie off and throws it towards his desk. Climbing in behind you, he’s quick to pull you against him. Griping your waist, he slips his hand into the front of your underwear. Hooking his hand around you, he feels your swollen lips and the stickiness of Ransom slowly leaking out of you.

“He left her here like this. She’s all puffy, but still needs something to fill her. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her,” you whimper as he gathers the little spend that has leaked out and pushes it back into you with his fingers.

Relaxing behind you, he leaves smalls kisses onto the nape of your neck. His fingers still inside you, sporadically tapping at your sweet spot.

“I love you, Jakey,” you whisper, as you begin to nod off to sleep.

Jake smiles behind you, tugging you closer, “My precious.”

@theinheriteddutchess, @buckybarnesisdaddy, @sarahdonald87

#jake jensen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #jake jensen #ransom drysdale #basement harem #the losers (2010)#knives out #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen smut #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut

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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months

Text

𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒅

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - jake finally got time off work, and desperately needing some release, he decides to test out the strawberry shack.

warning - smut, gloryhole, swearing, slightly sub jake, creampie

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Jake headed inside The Strawberry Shack, feeling slightly nervous and giddy. He desperately needed a release, and he hadn’t even been able to touch himself because of how complicated, tiring and busy the mission had been. He had heard many good things about this place, knowing the women were well looked after and treated right. Jake decided to give it a go, dressing in comfortable pants and a band t-shirt, his hair spiked and glasses perched on his nose.

He walks toward the woman at the counter, giving her a small smile. “Hi, I uh…” Jake turns pink, clearing his throat, not exactly knowing what he wants. The woman before him smiles, telling him where to go and how much. Jake hands the money over. “Thank you!” He blushes as he walks past her, heading down the hall and into the room. He chokes on his saliva, staring wide-eyed at the many holes and women. He didn’t know where to go or who to go to.

Jake looked around until he settled on you, noticing how his cock twitched as his gaze landed on your plump arse. You looked like a peach, a delicious juicy peach from where he was standing. Jake begins to head in your direction, practically drooling and nearly tripping as Jake continues to stare, not taking his eyes off you. He whispers gently before touching you, not wanting to startle you. “Hey, peach. I uh, this is my first time at one of these places, and I want to make sure it’s okay to touch you…” He pouts down at you, unable to stop his cock from twitching.

You giggle, feeling your heart warm as he asks. You wiggle your arse, pushing it back against his clothed cock. “Yeah, sugar. You can touch. I’m all yours for however long you need me.” You release a breath as he skims your plump cheeks with his hands before moving them to the front of his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his hardened cock. Jake’s hand moves up and down as he strokes himself, swiping his tip against your soft folds. “You’re doing so good for your first time… Such a big boy.”

Jake whimpers, feeling his eyes slip closed as he places his swollen tip against your entrance and pushes in, grunting at how tight you feel around him. “J–Jesus… You’re so tight.” He groans, thrusting his hips and gripping yours. He’s never felt someone so tight and warm before. It was like Jake had entered heaven. He couldn’t stop the moment he slid into you, slamming his cock harder and faster into your soft cunt. “I–I can’t stop… It feels too good!” He cries out, one hand moving from your hip and slamming against the wall. Jake can feel your walls pulsating around him, making his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Your hands curl into the pillow beneath you, burying your face into the softness as Jake slams harder into you. You couldn’t believe you had been getting every man who knew how to bring pleasure. Your cunt throbbed at the thought, causing Jake behind you to whimper and fuck deeper into you. His mushroom tip slams into your sweet spot, causing your toes to curl and your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “O–oh, feels amazing…” You manage to moan out, feeling your end near as he continues to thrust into your g-spot.

Jake feels the sweat building and his balls tightening, but he doesn’t want to cum until you do. He holds back, gritting his teeth and moving his hand underneath you, locating your swollen clit and rolling it between his fingers. “Mmm…” He groans as your walls flutter around him, sagging into the bed as your juices flow out of you and all over Jake and the floor. He begins to thrust harder, shuddering when his orgasm hits and his balls empty, burying his cock deep into you and filling you with his cum.

You sigh dreamily, eyes fluttering as he pulls out of you and groans. Jake’s eyes lock onto your cum-filled cunt, watching it leak out, dripping down your legs and onto the ground. He gently tucks his softened cock back into his pants while he catches his breath and cools down his heated cheeks. “T–thank you…” Jake shyly replies, still not as confident. “You felt… Fantastic.” He blushes again before slowly walking off with a soft goodbye and a promise to return.

You lie there, wondering what man you will get next.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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brandycranby · 4 months

Text

ce characters + their skill at wrapping presents (based on technique, style, and enthusiasm) 🎁✨

crocheting a last minute gift rn hehe

steve: 9.5/10. the military precision comes in clutch when it's time to measure out wrapping paper. if he's not doing the wrapping himself, he's at your elbow with tape strips and scissors when you need them. gift bags? hell no, back in his day, presents were wrapped (ok old man 🙄💕) heh expect steve to come home with half a dozen new tubes of gift wrap because he just can't resist the cuteness (target snoopy paper, beloved 🥺💕)

andy: 7/10. if he did it himself that is 😌 this is a man of experience and few close relatives. the holidays are a quiet uneventful time for him (besides the odd party) and he spends it with you, showering you in gifts and treats for the new year. most of those treats come with complimentary gift wrapping that he'll most definitely take advantage of hehe if not, he's a sparkly gift bag kinda guy

ari: 8/10. he doesn't have much skill at getting those sharp corners on a wrapped box but can he curl a ribbon or what? great color sense, he doesn't look like it but he can tell a french silver from classic silver 😌💕 whatta man whatta man. eight presents though, that's a lot of gift ideas to come up with. defaults to cash and gift cards for some nights, slaps a ribbon on top and adds mesh bag of chocolate coins and calls it a night

johnny: 6/10. look, he's a guy. still, he's a guy with a big sister. sue comes over and they make a night in of it. wrapping paper is everywhere, someone gets hit with a tube, nothing's lit on fire but reed's gift is singed and labeled "to: asshole". it's probably just fruit of the loom boxers. your gift though? he keeps adding stocking stuffers until sue makes him use a wicker basket to hold everything bc "it's chic, johnny, and a paper bag can't hold all of that."

ransom: 5/10 +3 effort points. ONCE HE TRIES?? HE TRIES!!! i mean not for his parents' gifts, he probably amazon shipped those to their house. but he'll pull out the ribbons, the glitter, the tinsel, the special wrapping paper just for you 🥹💕 ransom doesn't really Get It, not until you have a day of present prep with him. cups of hot drinks and a movie on in the back, that sort of warm nostalgia that's so familiar yet distant from what he's known 🥺surprisingly good eye for it

jake: 4/10. oh lord he tries. he tries so damn hard. the living room is a wreck, there's tape everywhere and mismatched wrapping paper. he measures a length of paper too small and worries about cutting another one because you like that paper!! you'd probably cry if he wasted it!! so he takes a discard piece and kinda... band-aids it together... oh baby 😔 also how do you wrap plushies??? (put it in a box, jake, please put it in a box)

curtis: 7/10. solid score because he goes for maximum efficiency and doesn't take a break until every single present is completely hidden in gift wrap, tissue paper, ribbons, bows, and a gift tag. would be a 10 if he was a little more fancy and a little less practical about his present style. but he has the assembly line efficiency and it helps you get everything done in one day so kudos 😊 points off for getting suspicious when you take a long pee break tho

---

since i've started writing this hc list, i've redone my amigurumi THREE TIMES. why do i do this to myself. i also wrapped last minute gifts like a jake today heh

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krirebr · 5 months

Text

Relax

Pairing: Jake Jensen x f!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~500 words

A/N: I watched The Losers this afternoon for the first time in years to try to combat the Migraine Sads™ and I immediately wanted to grab Jensen's hand and tell him, "Oh no, baby, just stop." So here that is. 😂

It was the middle of a Tuesday afternoon and the bar was predictably dead. A couple was finishing up an appetizer sampler in the corner booth and a man and a woman sat a few seats apart at the bar. That was it. You were working alone, busying yourself rolling silverware.

As you worked through your stack, you saw the man at the bar leave his seat and move down towards the woman. He was cute with spiky blonde hair and a goatee that was kind of dorky but worked on him. Most importantly, he was fucking built. That fact forgave a lot of follicular sins. The woman was pretty. Brunette with a soft round face. But she'd been nursing an Old Fashioned for the last hour and was giving real fuck-off vibes as she compulsively checked her phone. This wasn't going to go well, but you were bored and kind of wanted to watch the train wreck, so you moved down to their end of the bar as subtly as you could.

"So, uh, you come here often?" he asked her, then grimaced. You resumed your rolling, trying to act like you weren't paying attention. "Yeah, no," he continued when she didn't respond. "I've been here a few times." He nodded to her drink. "I also like drinking. It's fun." He scowled but didn't seem able to stop himself. "And good." He shifted his eyes to the corner of the ceiling, looking like he wanted to die. This poor baby. She shot him a glare and moved to one of the high tops on the far side of the room to finish her drink. He just nodded in response.

You filled a shot glass with top-shelf whiskey and placed it in front of him. "On the house," you said.

He took and drank it without looking up then put his face in his hands. "I'm so fucking embarrassing," he mumbled. "Why is it so hard to talk to chicks?"

"Well, my first piece of advice would be to not use the word 'chicks' so much."

He chuckled, still looking down at the bar. "Any other advice?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said. "You gotta relax, dude."

He huffed. "Yeah, easy for you to sa-" he looked up at your face and stopped mid-sentence. His mouth just hung open for a moment then he took a breath to say something you were sure would be horribly awkward.

"Relax," you said again and poured him another shot. "Can I let you in on a little secret?"

"Uh, sure," he said, taking the shot seemingly unconsciously.

"You're really hot," you said with a grin. "You don't need to try so hard."

You could see his brain short-circuit. "Uh, what?"

"You heard me," you smirked.

"Why does it feel like you're flirting with me?" he asked, adorably confused.

"Because that's exactly what I'm doing," you said. "I guess I like the awkward ones."

He blushed and ducked his head bashfully. "I'm Jake," he said, extending his hand to you. You took it and gave him your name.

You checked your watch. "Well, Jake, I'm done here in about two hours," you said with a significant look.

He gave you another cute, little confused look and then, "Oh! You mean-?" You just smiled at him and he matched it with a grin of his own that lit up his whole face. "Ok, two hours then."

Masterlist

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

#jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen #drabble #the losers (2010)#reader insert #jake jensen x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #kris wrote something

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holylulusworld · 4 months

Text

Kidnapping Miss America

Summary: It was an easy job. They had it planned well. They weren’t prepared for you.

Pairing: Criminal!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Criminal!Jake Jensen

Warnings: bitchy reader, arguments, banter, biting (not the sexy kind), violence against kidnappers, mistaken identity, fighting for dominance, dumbass kidnappers (kinda), grumpy Bucky, tension

A/N: Here's the dream pairing we have been waiting for...😂

Words: 2,7k

“Fuck, she’s heavier than she looks,” the guy carrying you inside the hideout pants. He complains loudly as you hang over his shoulder. “I thought she was a model or something.”

“Hey, asshat! Say that again and I’ll scratch your eyes out! Never call me heavy again!” You wiggle in his tight hold. “I will kill the both of you and rip your balls off if I see one hair of your dick!”

The other guy chuckles at your antics. “Yeah, never call her heavy again. That’s not nice. And I won’t show you my dick. I don’t get hard for bitchy bitches.”

“Who asked you?” You growl and blindly grasp for your second kidnapper. “How about brightening your horizon and learning some new words? Bitchy bitches my ass.”

“She has claws and teeth,” kidnapper number one drops you to the ground, making you cry out as you land hard on your ass.

“You fucker!” You jump up faster than the guy can blink. They believed you were a damsel in distress and didn’t restrain your ankles or wrists. Now they regret their lapsus because you jump at the guy dropping you to the floor. “I’ll kill you.”

“What the fuck!” The guy exclaims as you tackle him. He ends up on the ground, you on top of him. You dig your nails into his chest and twist his left nipple. “OUCH!” He squeaks ungracefully as you do it again.

The second guy snickers behind you, but you won’t have it. You get up and rip the blindfold off your eyes. “Bastard!” You kick the first guy’s balls before jumping at the second guy. “I’ll kill you!”

“Help me!” The second guy calls for help as you sink your teeth in his neck and repeatedly bite him like a feral dog. “She tries to rip my flesh out! BUCKY! HELP!”

“I’ll get my pound of flesh!”

“Whoa, is this how Miss America acts? I thought you all dream of world peace and American pie!” The first guy slowly gets back up. He limps toward you to drag you off the second guy. “Let him go, you crazy bitch!”

“Eat shit, loser!” You snarl and twirl around to punch the first guy’s nose. “I’m not some girl you can just kidnap! Who do you think you are?”

“What the fuck, Jensen!” The first guy cups his aching crotch. “I wanted to make fast cash, not get my balls rearranged.”

You snicker as the first guy pleadingly looks at you. He’s much taller than you and strong. It shouldn’t be too hard for him to take you down. But he seems to be afraid to get close to you now.

“He said this is an easy job to make fast cash! All we had to do was grab Miss America and make sure she couldn’t win this contest,” the second guy, Jensen, grunts. “That’s not my fucking fault, Bucky!”

“Of course, it is your fucking fault! You listened to that dumbass,” Bucky bites back. His balls are bruised, and he won’t take this lightly. “I can’t believe I listened to you! I could’ve made more with poker tonight. Instead, I got my balls bruised.”

“More like your ego, wannabe kidnapper,” you chuckle darkly. Bucky’s eyes darken and he takes one step toward you.

You grit your teeth and ball your hands into fists, preparing for a fight.

“What are you? A ninja or shit?” Jensen panics as you look like you know what you are doing. “I think she wants to use karate or something.”

“It’s called Krav Maga, dumbass,” you snap at Jensen and get ready for his attack. “Come and get some.” You prepare for a fight with both men. Two tall guys against you, a fair fight. Your trainer didn’t call you firecracker for nothing.

“I think she’s crazy,” Bucky looks at his accomplice. “Jensen, this was a stupid idea. Miss America is a crazy bitch.”

“Dude, I’m not a miss nor Miss America,” you grit your teeth at Bucky. “You are the crazy one here if you think I’ll just roll over and let you pervs touch me!”

“Wait!” Jensen raises his hands in surrender. “You are not Miss America?” He cocks his head to look you up and down. “Hmm…yeah. I guess those girls don’t have a nice ass like you do.”

“Did you just call my perfect bottom fat?” You narrow your eyes. “Say that again if you want to lose a testicle. I dare you four-eyes!”

Jensen looks offended and pouts. He sniffs and turns away for a moment while his partner in crime tries to charm his way out of this situation.

“It’s a perfect peach,” Bucky shamelessly stares at your ass. He hums and cups his crotch again. “If I didn’t risk another kick to my crotch I’d offer you to take care of your peach.” He grins like he made you the nicest compliment.

“Calling my ass peach won’t get you out of trouble! You kidnapped me, the bookkeeper of the year, and I missed the prize-giving because of you. They wanted to give me a golden pencil and a coupon.”

“Bookkeeper of the year?” Bucky groans. “Jensen don’t tell me we were at the wrong place. Again…”

“How shall I know?” Jensen shrugs. “Dude said she’ll be in the room and wait for us to grab her! It’s not my fault he gave us the wrong information.”

“Seriously? You wanted to kidnap Miss America?” You snort. “Dude, they protect her better than the president. Did you honestly believe Miss America is sleeping at a sleazy motel? She sleeps at the four seasons!”

“Great. We grabbed the wrong girl then,” Bucky sighs and runs one hand down his face. “We fucked up big time.” He pouts and stares daggers into his partner’s skull. “You fucked this up, Jensen!”

“He gave us the wrong information! That’s not my fault.” Jensen sniffs. “Why do you always blame me? I’m only the tech nerd to you. You do not respect me at all.”

“Aw, are you having relationship trouble? Do you want me to wait outside so you can make up?” You tease.

Jensen drops his gaze and sighs deeply. He shrugs and mumbles an apology under his breath.

Somehow, you pity these two. They don’t seem to be the smartest criminals and you can’t help but feel sorry for them.

Bucky slowly sits down on the worn-out couch. He switches the TV on, to distract himself from thinking about the money they lost tonight. Bucky switches through the channels, making comments about the shows. “Boring…nonsense…wait..”

“What is it?” Jensen gapes at the TV. “Pump up the volume. I want to hear this.”

You look at the TV, listening to what the reporter has to say. According to them someone tried to kidnap Miss America and got shot. They didn’t make it out alive.

“Whoa, this could’ve been us.” Bucky huffs. “Take that, Walker. I knew it was a stupid idea to work with that fucker! He gave us the wrong address to get all the money!”

“You only work with idiots, huh?” You sit next to Bucky. “So, tell me, how much money do you make with crimes.”

“Not much lately. We used to make a lot of cash, but our concurrent fucked us over,” Bucky grumbles. “We need fast cash to keep our business running and stop Rumlow from taking over our club.”

“How do you usually make cash if you don’t kidnap women?” You grin darkly as Bucky’s frown deepens. “Come on, we are kidnapping buddies now. You can trust me.”

“You kicked my balls, lady!” Bucky snaps at you. “I don’t trust you at all. My balls don’t trust you. And my gut instinct doesn’t trust you.”

You snort. “Fine, I’ll go home, grab my prize on the way, and tell Rumlow greetings from you two losers…”

Jensen stares at you with wide fearful eyes as you make your way toward the door.

“Rumlow?” He hiccups. “You know Rumlow?”

“He prefers when I call him Brock and rub his shoulders after a long day,” you look over your shoulder to flash Bucky, who suddenly stands behind you, a smirk. “Did I forget to mention that I’m his bookkeeper?”

Jensen makes an odd noise. He wrings his hands and tries to not show he’s scared to hell and back at the mention of Brock Rumlow.

“What? Not so cocky any longer?” You turn on your heels to jab two fingers into Bucky’s chest. “Miss America my ass. I’m worth more than that bony bitch!”

Bucky looks you up and down. He hums and immediately pounces on you. “You’re right,” you squeak when he throws you over his shoulder again. “Rumlow will pay us a fucking lot of money to get you back.”

“Uh-Bucky,” Jensen watches his partner restrain you to the heater. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to treat her this way. Rumlow will kill us,”

“Aw, your little partner is scared,” you snicker. “How about you two play by my rules from now on, and I help you get more money than you could ever spend?”

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. He sniffs and turns to leave the room. “I don’t trust you.”

“Wait, maybe she can help us,” Jensen doesn’t want to end up dead because they kidnapped you. If you are willing to help them, he’ll do anything to get in your good graces.

Bucky sneers as his partner looks at you like a lost puppy. “Get out of the fucking room, Jensen. We don’t negotiate with girls kicking a man’s balls.”

“It’s called massage,” you giggle and snort as Bucky turns around to glare at you. “Don’t tell me you never got kicked in the balls before. You scream awful first date.”

“Watch your tongue!” Bucky points his index finger at you. “I’m an awesome first date. The ladies never complained.”

“Yeah, because you bored them to death.” The look he gives you makes you giggle again. “You’re not used to a woman talking back, huh?”

“What you said about the money,” Jensen clears his throat to get your attention, “is it true? Can you help us?”

“Well,” you look at the handcuffs around your wrist. “I will talk if your partner takes these off again. If not, you will regret putting your hands on me.”

“How do you want to help us? Talk,” Bucky barks while his partner expectantly looks at you. “I don’t have all night.”

“I got more than enough time,” you stretch your body and yawn. “How about you get some food and beer first? I’ll talk after I eat. You fucked my day up.”

“Uh-I don’t have much money with me,” Jensen looks inside his wallet, sighing deeply. “I got ten bucks. What do you have, Bucky?”

“Guys,” you sigh and shake your head. “How did you survive for so long without my help?” You get up from the couch and grab your bag. “Christ, you should have at least one hundred bucks with you. You never know if you need to run.”

“What?” Bucky furrows his brows. “What do you mean you must run away?”

“I’m working for a dangerous criminal who likes to kill people if they look at him for too long. I have a plan, always.”

“Making plans is my job,” Jensen grins proudly. “Not this one, of course. Walker made the plan this time.”

“Hmm…” you open your wallet and hand Bucky fifty bucks. “Here, get us some food and beer. I think you know where my car is. Get it here, and don’t get caught. I trust you that you don’t run off and leave me alone with your partner.”

“I’m not your servant,” Bucky grunts and snatches the money out of your hands. “Why do you need your car?”

“I’ll tell you if you come back with food and beer…”

“Here,” Bucky slams the beer on the table. He drops three paper bags filled with takeout next to the beer, huffing as you are busy playing the blind man’s bluff card game with Jensen. “What are you doing? She’s still our hostage.”

“Jakie and I discussed the most important things,” you coo, and grab one of the bags. “I hope you brought some dessert too. This is going to be a long night.”

“Yeah? How about you answer my questions first,” Bucky grunts and slams his fist onto the table. “Why are there three suitcases and shit in your trunk?”

“Uh-“Batting your eyelashes you try to not give away too much. “That’s none of your business. I was about to go on vacation.”

“Vacation for how long?” Bucky steps closer and snatches the card from your forehead. He crumples the card up and flings it across the room. “I’m done playing games. Talk.”

“Stop barking at me like a feral dog,” you snap at Bucky. "Jake and I had a great time without your grumpy ass around."

“Stop messing with me,” the brunette pants heavily. “We’ve got no time for this shit.”

“Fine. I kinda stole the access data for Rumlow’s offshore bank accounts and his black book. I know where he’s hiding every single buck.”

Bucky licks his lips while his partner in crime nervously shifts in his seat. “He’s going to kill all of us, Buck. We need to get out of town!”

“Relax, Jakie!” You wave his concern off. “Rumlow is busy with another poker game. He’s out of town for a week. More than enough time to get out of town and transfer all of his money to my bank account in the Bahamas.”

“Bahamas? You think he won’t find you there?” Bucky huffs. “You’re stupider than I thought if you believe for one second you can rob Brock Rumlow and get away with it.”

“Aw, sweet cheeks,” you pat Bucky’s cheek. “I already robbed every single buck. I only need to get out of town, and this country.”

“She robbed all of his money,” Jensen hiccups. “What if he believes we had something to do with all of this?”

“You know,” sizing Jensen up you smirk, “I could need help hiding the money. You’re smart and reliable. If you are willing to follow me, we can be Gods.”

“Do you listen to yourself sometimes?” Bucky huffs. “Rumlow will flay Jensen and you alive. You have no survival instinct at all.”

“I got survival instinct,” you bump your chest into Bucky’s trying to intimidate him. “I kicked your balls, remember? I could have easily broken your neck too.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He dares to grin. “I doubt you’ll be able to wrap your hands around my neck. Little peach.”

“Well, if you are the survival expert you should join me and Jakie,” you challenge. “Your business is dead. So, I heard.”

“We could buy an island!” Jensen dreamily sighs. “Cocktails on the beach. The sun kissing my skin.”

“You’ll get sunburn,” Bucky grunts. He crosses his arms over his chest while eying you warily. He cocks a brow when you open a beer and take a large swig.

“I’ll pay you,” you run your fingertips over his bicep. “What’s your price? How much does your service cost me?”

Jensen watches you sip on the beer. He hums and imagines helping you for free to touch your peach. “I’ll do it for free!”

“Jensen!” Bucky mutters.

“Aw, he only wants to be a good boy for me, right?” You turn on your heels to pat Jensen’s cheek. He smiles widely. “I got more money than you could ever dream of. I only need someone to help me hide it and a bodyguard.”

“Bucky,” Jensen pleads.

“Fine,” the brunette throws his hands up. “If we die, I’ll blame you, Jensen.”

On your way out of town, you relax in the passenger seat staring at your bank account. Fifty million dollars should be enough to start a new life.

While Jensen takes a nap in the back seat, Bucky is driving the car you rented using a fake identity. He’s still a grumpy ass but you know, he’ll do anything to protect you. If only for the money you promised them.

Soon you will leave this country and your old life. Rumlow will regret firing you. He will remember your name till the end of his life.

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #jake jensen #bucky barnes x reader #jake jensen x reader #Kidnapping Miss America #jake jensen x you #female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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the-iceni-bitch · 5 months

Note

13 or 14 (angst )with jake jensen <3

13. “Just get out. I- I don’t want you here, just leave.”

14. “Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about your life without me.”

Ugh, this rang of self sabotage for me, buckle up.

Jake didn’t know what he was supposed to do. When he tried to touch you, you flinched, tears still falling from your eyes as heavy sobs wracked your chest.

“Baby…” he just ran a hand through his hair when you refused to look at him. “I just want to help. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Why would you talk to her?” You had been crying ever since the two you got in the car to go home, but this was the first time you had actually spoken to Jake. “I was waiting for you.”

His shoulders slumped as he let out a heavy sigh, looking at you with all the care in the world as he knelt in front of you while you just trembled and cried. It didn’t seem to matter how many time he told you you were the only one he loved and no other girls mattered to him, your insecurities kept rearing their ugly head because you just couldn’t make yourself open all the way up and trust him. Especially when he talked to his goddess of an ex, which had happened tonight. How could you trust him to love you completely when he gave up loving her?

“It was for thirty seconds. I just bumped into her and said hello.” Seeing you in pain made him ache, he hated this. “Honey, please look at me, I just want to make you feel better, I love you.”

“How can I believe you? I’m such a fucking mess and I ruin everything. You were having a good time and then I messed it up.” You shook your head and let out a hiccup as you continued crying like a stupid baby. “Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about your life without me. It would be easier if you just left. Just get out. I- I don’t want you here, just leave.”

Jake wanted to comfort you, he wanted to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But when you got like this, when you wouldn’t let him in, he just felt defeated. All he wanted was to take care of you but he didn’t know what to do if you wouldn’t let him. So he stood up when you still wouldn’t raise your head, his face fallen and his vision going blurry until he blinked a few times. He gave you one last glance before leaving through the front door, wanting nothing so much as to go back inside and hold you when he heard you sobbing even harder but knowing it wouldn’t do any good.

⁂❆❅ 𝒥𝑜𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝐵𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 ❅❆⁂

#natalie answers #nat’s blue birthday #anon answered #jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen angst

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babyjakes · 4 months

Text

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | threesome

pairing | stepbrothers!jake jensen and curtis everett x best friend!reader

warnings | stepcest? jake and curtis are stepbrothers, reader is their best friend. big innocence kink, almost little!reader vibes. mentions of other "sex lessons": masturbation, fingering, hand/blow jobs, eating out. sex toys (dildo used, bullet vibe mentioned.) nipple play. clit rubbing. fingering. hint of orgasm delay. she comes hard :D lots of aftercare!

word count | 1,353

an | @brandycranby and i were discussing the idea of brothers jakey and curtis a little while back and i thought it would be a fun pair to try out for this prompt- thanks for always slutting out in the dm's with me, brandy bby!! i treasure our naughty brainstorms so so much <33

what if stepbros jakey and curtis are childhood best friends with a suuuuper innocent reader (you!!), and when you all reach your early 20's they decide to help you out and teach you "how to play with boys" since you're so clueless/in need of guidance and (they wanna take all your firsts) hehe 🥺

they start out with stuff like how to make yourself feel good and how to make them feel good. little lessons on fingering yourself, giving a hand/blow job, etc. then they work up to being more directly involved: fingering you themselves, teaching you all about your adorable little clit ("this is your clit, baby. it's a very special part of your body that only us and you should touch" 🫠), eating you out, etc.

maybe they want to work up to some more substantial penetration next, but neither of them feel quite ready to put their dick in you (they'll get there eventually, ofc 😌) so jake suggests ordering a dildo to help you practice. they get you on board by telling you they have a fun new toy to show you how to use 🤠 you loooved the little bullet vibe they got you, so of course you're happy to learn about more toys!!!

you look so darn cute when curtis opens the door to let you in, he has to fight off the overwhelming urge to just pin you up against the wall and fuck you right there before jake can even set eyes on you 🥲

flouncing obliviously in your pink mini skirt, your perky tits bouncing in your flimsy white camisole. two little pigtails with bows in your hair, sticky lipgloss from the drugstore spread across your plump lips, you don't know how crazy you drive your poor friend. "c'mon bunny, jakey's upstairs waiting for us," you reach for his hand so trustingly, his heart melts 🥺

he brings you up to his and his stepbrother's shared bedroom. jakey's waiting on his bed with the toy's box sitting beside him. "there's our pretty girl," the blonde pulls you in for a hug, "are you excited, sweetie? it just came in the mail today!"

they help you into one of your usual positions: jake behind you with his legs on either side of you, your back pressed against his broad chest- and curtis in front of you, doing most of the instructing and work. there's a shared mutual understanding that you feel safest in jakey's arms when trying out scary new things, something that curtis can't help but feel a little hurt about. he's always been the more serious of the two, while jakey is more fun and carefree. in this particular instance tho, curtis doesn't mind, as he gets the most hands-on action

"remember how we said this new toy's gonna help stretch you out, sweetheart?" curtis is gently introducing the new tool to you as jake pulls down the waistband of your skirt, helping you out of it as well as your panties. by now, you've outgrown most of the initial embarrassment and shyness and don't show any resistance to being undressed by them

you nod, big eyes fixed on curtis to show him you're listening. you gasp softly when he removes the toy from its packaging. they started out at a reasonable size, but it still seems massive to you

"look cutie, we found a pink one!" jake's hooking your legs over his to open you up nice and wide before rubbing your inner thighs soothingly with his big hands to help settle your nerves

"we'll go nice and slow, bunny. you just tell us if it's too much," the man before you is saying seriously, wanting to assure you feel safe and comfortable before proceeding

naturally, you need to be warmed up before introducing the toy. by now the brothers know your body well enough to do this with relative ease. jake focuses on your tits, slipping his hand under your cami to tweak and tug at your sensitive nipples. curtis plays with your clit just how you like it, pulling back the hood and rubbing steady circles right on the head 🥺 doesn't take long to turn you into a dripping, writhing mess with their skilled hands on you

when you're appropriately aroused, they share a glance, both pulling away in unison. you were well on your way to building up to an orgasm, so their sudden abandonment earns plenty of protesting whimpers

"shhh bunny, easy," curtis is murmuring as he brings the toy up to gently start rubbing the smooth silicon head over your slippery slit

"c'mon sweet thing, you're okay," jake adds in, reaching down to rub your thighs again. they both watch with great concentration as the dildo is gently worked into you. curtis uses gradual pumping motions, forcing a bit more of the toy up into you each time

the stretch burns a little, causing you to whine softly. "easy baby," jake reaches down to smear some of your wetness over your throbbing clit to help lessen the pain. he and curtis work together at a steady rhythm, slowly but surely working you up to take the entire length of the object

once it's fully inserted, curtis takes a moment to push it up as far as he can and hold it there, groaning softly at the way your poor pussy flutters around the base. he can feel the tip hitting right up against something hard- what he guesses must be your cervix. "you're so tiny, sweetheart. can barely take the whole thing," he's marveling at how small your channel is, how much it's struggling to take even a smaller-sized toy "you want me to fuck you with it, bunny? want me to fuck this pretty little pussy with your brand new toy?"

you look up at him with the biggest eyes, nodding so sweetly. "use your words, cutie. tell him what you want," jake instructs you

your voice is trembling as you do as you're told, "p-please, please fuck me with it. please fuck me with my new toy" 🥺

"good girl," curtis is beaming, resuming the pumping motions of the dildo inside of you. jake quickens his finger over your clit, leaning down to kiss your forehead as you lay further back against him. grabbing at one of your tits with his free hand, pinching at your pebbled nipple

"please, p-please," you're starting to chant as curtis increases his speed and force

"you gonna come for us, bunny? gonna give us a nice big one? c'mon, sweetheart. let's see it," he's working you up further with his words

"come for us, baby. c'mon, that's it. almost there..." jake chimes in, squeezing and rolling your puffy clit between his fingers just as you tumble over the edge. they both gasp in unison, smiling widely as your orgasm washes over you. your little cunt spasms wildly around the toy, the glorious feeling of being so full and stretched out as you come only prolonging the period of burning pleasure

curtis lets you fully come down from your high, leaving you stuffed with the toy as jake gives you another kiss over your hair. "easy takin' it out," the blonde instructs his stepbrother, "poor baby must be so sensitive now"

they take good care of you, easing the toy out when you're ready and cleaning you up. they have a little basket just for you that they use for aftercare, has all the stuff they need: a washcloth, a new pair of panties for you, some chocolate, maybe a stuffed animal and blanket hehe 🥺

you spend plenty of time after snuggled up between them. they love cuddling you and doting on you after your lessons are over. they make sure to teach you how essential aftercare is; they always tell you "if a guy doesn't give you at least as much aftercare as we've been giving you, dump him and tell us where he lives" hehe 🫶they seriously love you so much, they're so proud of you for being so brave and taking your new toy 💕

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buckymorelikefuckme · 11 days

Text

a helping hand

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, handjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), jake has a big dick, my lame attempts at humor. please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: SURPRISE!! this is honestly so silly. and filthy. i wrote it in a frenzy last night after the idea randomly came to me. keep in mind it's all based off the vague info i have about him. i probably took a lot of liberties. it wasn't planned for my first jakey fic to be this, but oh well lmao! any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated :) xo

With an exaggerated, put-upon sigh, you gesture vaguely at Jake to stand and say, “Alright, let me see it.”

“What?” Jake asks, brows furrowed so deeply you worry he’ll get a migraine.

“You’re being awfully dramatic about this, so I need to see what all the fuss is about,” you calmly explain, though still skeptical.

Jake had showed up at your apartment with a look of pure despair, ranting about how yet another hookup went south when they took their clothes off and his would-be partner saw his cock for the first time. Said they almost begged him to leave and take his monster with him.

Surely his dick can’t be that big, right?

Jake hesitates, watching you warily as he contemplates, but then he sighs heavily and he rises to his feet, grumbling as he unbuttons and lowers the zip on his jeans. His thumbs curl under the waistband of both the jeans and his underwear before he unceremoniously shoves them down to mid-thigh. And then there’s only silence that follows.

You blink. You stare. You blink again.

Jake shifts his weight on his feet, settling his hands on his hips awkwardly.

Finally, you find your voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you wheeze, your voice tight and airy as you struggle to remember how to inhale.

Jake groans, covering his face mournfully. “I told you!” he wails. “It’s too big! And I know, I know—boohoo woe is me I have a big dick—but listen, this is literally a big fucking problem. I’m going crazy here. It’s just not the same with only my hands!”

Probably because not even both of your hands can cover your gigantic fucking penis, you think to yourself, but thankfully, do not say aloud. And, alright, maybe you’re exaggerating just a little, but Jake is still easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. Like, leaps and bounds bigger. The length of it isn't overly scary or anything, it's just… thick, and veiny, has the slightest curve to it.

And the thing is, you really shouldn’t be so surprised. In general, Jake himself is… big. He’s tall, and broad, and his hands are works of fucking art with his long fingers and wide palms, and his thighs—Jesus, fuck, his thighs. They deserve sonnets alone, just for how sculpted and muscled they are. Even Jake’s pecs are big. And you’re normally not a tit person, but Jake’s? You’ve cupped and squeezed and fondled them probably too many times to be appropriate.

The point is, though, that Jake is fucking hot. You have always thought so, in an offhand kind of way, like, a passing observation. Jake is also sweet and attentive, always periodically checking in on each person in his friend group, always willing to offer advice or a listening ear. He’s incredibly smart while also endearingly dumb about so much. He never asks for help with anything because he doesn’t want to be a burden, no matter how many times he’s told he could never be. So you’re pretty sure that Jake has used up all of his courage and vulnerability by coming to you with his problem. And you are flummoxed as to why he chose you, but you will not let this opportunity pass you by.

“Jake,” you start after a slight pause, “I have lube, patience, and willpower.”

And Jake says, “Huh?”

Which is fair, to be honest.

“Can you, um, put your dick away so I can think properly?” you ask after delicately clearing your throat.

Jake flushes and hastily obeys before taking his spot on the couch again.

You shift to face him fully, taking in his pink cheeks and inability to meet your gaze, and you feel bad for being so blunt, for speaking before thinking.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “I just wasn't… You know.” You wave your hand around in a way that you hope says, I wasn't expecting you to have the most perfect cock I've ever seen, when your mind blanks on how to continue.

Then again, maybe it's a good thing you couldn't figure out a way to say that verbally.

You clear your throat again. “What I was trying to say is that, um, maybe I could help you?”

Jake tilts his head. “Help me?” he repeats.

“Yeah, you know, like,” you say, licking your lips, “I could lend a hand. So to speak.”

It only takes a split second for him to understand what you're saying. His eyes widen, round like saucers behind his glasses, ears now burning a bright red as he sputters.

“What? You're offering to—no, that's. No, you're not—this isn't what I—fuck, I think I’m gonna pass out,” he stammers breathlessly, and honestly, he is starting to look a bit lightheaded. He shakes himself, closing his eyes, then takes in a deep breath and releases it slowly.

You quietly wait for him to gather himself, almost wishing you hadn't said anything. Almost, but not really, not enough to try to take it back.

Finally, he blinks his eyes open and turns to you. “I didn't come here expecting you to–to help me with my… problem.”

“Jakey,” you say on an exhale, smiling. “I know that. I offered because I wanted to.”

“But why?” he questions, bewildered.

You purse your lips, glancing up at the ceiling as you think about your response carefully this time. “Because you're one of my best friends, and you're hurting, in a way. I know it's not like, the worst thing in the world to just get off with your own hands, but I feel like getting shot down at the last minute every time you go to have sex can't be good for you mentally, either.”

Jake shifts his gaze to his lap then, mouth twisting into something disappointed, and that just confirms what you've said. He's started taking this to heart, beating himself up over something entirely out of his control. Sure, you wanna get your hands, mouth, and everything else on his dick, but a guy like Jake deserves to be brought to orgasm by someone else.

“Think of it as a favor,” you try, quietly, nudging his arm.

Swallowing roughly, he meets your eyes, searching. “Are you sure?” he asks after a long pause.

You reach out and grab his hand, twining your fingers with his. “I’m sure.” When he still hesitates, you squeeze his hand lightly. “You can say no, Jake.”

“No.” You start to pull away, and then he shakes his head quickly, holding on to you tighter. “No, I mean—I don't want to say no. I'm just. I'm a little nervous.”

His confession breaks your heart a little more. On the surface, this problem isn't all that serious, but underneath it all, Jake is craving connection. You’ll make sure he leaves your apartment more than satisfied.

“If at any point, for any reason, you want to stop then we’ll stop,” you promise.

He finally smiles, small and lopsided, and nods in agreement. You stand up, tugging him to rise with you and struggling to lift all that muscle mass.

“Come on,” you instruct, “let's go to my bedroom. We’ll have more space there.”

Silently, he follows you to your room, palm clammy against yours. The sun is shining through your windows, beams landing directly on your bed like some kind of spotlight. You let go of Jake’s hand to quickly shove your comforter to the foot of your bed then climb onto it.

“C’mere,” you murmur when you see him hovering unsurely beside the bed, patting the space between your legs.

First, Jake makes quick work of the button and zip on his jeans, before knee-walking to where you indicated. You both settle on the mattress, your back to the headboard and Jake getting comfortable against your chest and into the cradle of your spread thighs. The position really highlights your size difference, almost comically, and you have to swallow down all the things you want to say or sounds that threaten to escape.

Jake already has his jeans back down around his knees and quickly wiggles his underwear down to get his dick out. He’s jittery, his movements stilted and awkward, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“Relax, Jakey,” you softly instruct, reaching up to squeeze at his shoulders comfortingly. “It’s just me. I’m here to help, okay?”

“Right,” Jake replies on an exhale, nodding, “okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Your lips quirk slightly. “Good. I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”

“Okay,” Jake murmurs.

You hear him swallow, see his fists clench and unclench where they’re resting beside his thighs. Tentatively, as if not to startle him, you move your hands to Jake’s hips, petting over the exposed skin there. You hear Jake’s breath hitch then, so you keep going. You trail your fingers down the tops of Jake’s thighs, into the crease where they meet his groin and back up, just a touch higher than before, and you repeat the motion a few times until you’ve worked the hem of Jake’s shirt up to give you better access to his torso.

Slowly, Jake sinks further and further into your embrace, getting heavier and heavier the more you touch him. You are quietly loving the weight of him, the way his head is starting to loll and his eyelids beginning to flutter. You watch Jake bite his lip when you finally tease closer to his hardening cock, running your fingernails lightly across the trimmed hair above it.

You raise one of your hands, palm up, with a soft, “Jake,” as instruction.

He blinks down at your hand for a second, dazed, and then he’s carefully holding your hand and bringing it up to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to your palm. You feel your face grow hot as you hide your smile in Jake’s shoulder, though you’re positive he can feel it anyway.

“Jakey,” you say again, painfully endeared, “I meant for you to, you know, get my hand wet.”

“Oh.” He huffs a little at himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to bring your hand back up to his mouth and drag his tongue across your open palm.

Now it’s your turn for your breath to catch in your throat, locking every part of your body so you don't make any sudden movements or do something stupid. That gets more difficult to avoid when Jake, after thoroughly licking all over your hand, tops it all off by gathering the remaining saliva in his mouth, makes you cup your hand and then spits into it. For a split second, you think you’re about to come, which would be mortifying, so you’re glad when you’re able to reign in your hormones and offer a small thank you so you can get back to the task at hand. Literally.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you finally allow yourself to look over Jake’s shoulder, and honestly, you could weep at the sight before you. Jake’s cock is fully hard now, lying against his toned stomach, looking more intimidating than ever. Somehow his cock seems bigger, and thicker too. Your mouth waters, but you tell yourself to focus.

With your dry hand, you lift Jake’s cock, holding him at the base while you bring your other hand down to curl around the head. Jake gasps lightly, but otherwise stays still and quiet, at least until you begin stroking him. Slow and steady, you drag your hand down to the base of Jake’s cock, then add a little more pressure on the upstroke. Jake makes a punched out kind of sound, his knees jerking up slightly before settling back in place. A thrill rushes through you, powerful and giddy at the thought of Jake being at your mercy, of being the one to pull out even these tiny reactions. It makes you want to see just how loud you can make him. For now, though, you continue your steady pace, feeling more than hearing Jake’s sigh when you use your free hand to start touching him everywhere you can reach again.

What’s dangerous about this is that you could get used to it. You’re pretty sure you already are, and that could spell disaster for you, because you’re just supposed to be helping him out. This is only supposed to be offering Jake some relief after being unable to get off with a partner, to give him pleasure that isn’t by his own hands. You press your lips together and speed up your stroking, just a smidge, squeeze a bit more around the head and dig your thumb into Jake’s slit.

“Oh,” he utters, head falling back to rest on your shoulder, eyes closed tight and hips twitching up into your touch, chasing the feeling.

“Does it feel good, Jakey?” you boldly ask.

Jake nods and hums. “So good,” he affirms. He moves his hands to grip your knees as he adds, “Being so good to me, sweetheart.”

And, well. Fuck. You've been trying to pretend your pussy isn't wetter than it's been in a long while, but his words have you wishing you could close your thighs for some much needed friction. Subtly, you try to shift your hips and all it does is make you more frustrated. You let out a huff, breath fanning out against Jake’s neck. He shivers against you and you pause. Your lack of movement makes him whine, low and pleading, and it jolts you back into action.

Dragging your gaze down the line of his throat only makes you want to put your mouth on it, see if you can get him to shiver again. You peek at his face and see his eyes are still closed. Softly, so soft, you lean in and press a kiss to the side of his neck, and the way he responds is beautiful.

He whimpers, tilts his head back further to give you more room, his hips bucking up into your hold as you continue stroking him at a rhythmic pace. And you really can't say no to that kind of invitation. So, sufficiently sure that he doesn't mind it, you press even more kisses into his skin, trailing them up and down his neck and shoulder, as far as you can reach. The kisses turn wet, your tongue flicking out to taste him. Jake’s stomach muscles clench, and you quicken the pace of your hand up a bit, mouthing sloppily up his neck to his ear.

“Don't know how anyone could refuse you,” you mutter, your own breathing getting heavier to match his. “How can anyone look at your cock and not want to sit on it, Jakey? It doesn't make sense.”

He groans, planting his feet on the mattress so he has better leverage to thrust up into your fist, panting and letting out needy sounds.

“God, Jake,” you whine. You suck and bite a mark on his throat, pulling away once you're happy with it. “I bet you would feel perfect inside me,” you confess in a whisper.

“Stop,” he pants, and you let go of him in an instant, stomach dropping.

Before you can start to panic too much, Jake clumsily shifts around until he's on his haunches facing you, flushed all the way down his chest, eyes blazing behind his frames. You open your mouth to ask him what's wrong, but then he's gripping you under your knees and yanking. You fall flat on your back with a startled yelp and Jake is there to swallow the sound, kissing you like it's his lifeline. A moan rips its way out of your chest, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

He breaks the kiss, glasses askew, to ask, “Can I please fuck you?”

Any other time you'd snort at the politeness of such a vulgar question, but at the moment all you can do is nod, roughly tugging at his shirt until he gets the hint and removes it, almost knocking his glasses off entirely. It lands somewhere on the floor, along with his jeans and underwear a second later. You squirm once you see his body fully naked, core throbbing in need to have it against you, on top of you.

“You too,” he murmurs, reaching for your shorts.

You lift your hips to help him, biting your lip at the way he curses when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. With a grin, you surprise him further by taking off your t-shirt and reveal you're also not wearing a bra.

“Would it totally ruin the moment if I say I’ve wanted this for way too long?” he wonders, eyes raking over your body, his hands joining soon after.

You smile softly and shake your head. “Not at all.” He returns your smile, but yours eases into something mischievous. “But what will ruin the moment is if you don't get your fingers in me to get me ready for your big cock.”

Jake’s smile drops. “Fuck,” he says with feeling.

To incentivize him, you spread your legs, hand tracing a path down to where you're dripping. He watches with blown pupils and a slack jaw. When you hum as your fingers lightly glide down your slit, he snaps into focus. He knocks your hand away to replace it with his own. You sigh at the touch of his calluses on your sensitive skin, tilting your hips up and moaning when he finally sinks one finger inside you.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to want to waste time, thrusting his finger steadily. You've never appreciated how long his fingers are more than you are at this very moment. He works you up to three of them much too fast for your liking, but you understand the urgency he’s feeling, and you can't really deny that you're feeling it too.

“That's good, Jake, c’mon, please get in me already,” you beg, shifting restlessly.

“Shit,” he breathes, “okay, yeah, let me just—”

He shuffles closer, taking his cock in hand and rubbing it up and down your slit, the head catching on your opening, making you whine. He curses under his breath some more and starts pushing in. Your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out, brows furrowing deeply as he splits you open on his cock. When he bottoms out, you let out a sharp exhale that hitches in your chest, while Jake’s chest is heaving like he's run a marathon.

“So tight,” he mutters.

“So—” You hiccup through a desperate sob. “So big, oh my god, Jakey, baby, please move, I need you to move.”

His chin drops to his chest with a pained sounding groan, but he listens. He draws his hips back, cock dragging deliciously out of you, before he thrusts back in. You're not sure you've stopped making noise since he started pulling out, high and needy and hungry pleas for more, and he's barely even gotten started.

Every sensation feels dialed up to a million. You're not sure sex has ever been like this for you; like your skin is on fire, like you can feel your pulse throb through every limb, through every single finger and toe, but especially in your clit. Your nipples even feel more sensitive than usual as they brush against his chest. Your body is positively singing with pleasure.

And Jake… Oh, that sweet, precious man is in heaven. You know you're tight around him, warm and wet, the perfect place to fuck into, and now that he's finally getting what he's wanted he's not holding back. He's fucking you like he’s gonna be graded on it after. His hips slam into yours and he can't stop making noises of his own. Grunts, soft gasps, neverending praise over how you feel, how he's so happy this is happening, how he's never going to stop fucking you.

Your nails dig into the flesh on his back, dragging all the way down until you flatten your palms on his ass and squeeze. His thrusting falters for a second, but he finds his rhythm again quickly, dropping to his elbows so that he's even closer. He kisses along your collarbones, nipping at the base of your throat before sucking at the spot harshly. You moan brokenly and clutch at him tighter.

“Left my mark on you, too,” he declares, kissing the bruise he’s made, then kisses you properly, tongue sliding across yours and dipping into your mouth.

You're not sure how much longer you can hold back from touching your clit, your need ratcheting higher and higher, but you know Jake is right there with you. He's pounding into you roughly now, chasing his climax with determination. Reaching down, you swipe your fingers through your slick and use it to rub your clit, a whimper escaping you when you tighten around him from the added stimulation. Jake growls and speeds up some, hitching one of your legs up his side. It changes the angle just enough that he's hitting that spot inside you that has you crying out, a long warble of his name, fingers quickening their pace on your clit.

“Yeah, that's it,” he encourages. “Please, come for me. Come on, baby, let me see it, wanna watch you fall apart.”

All of your breath gets trapped in your lungs as warmth pools in your core and bursts outward, your pussy fluttering and clamping down on his cock. Your body shivers through your climax, thighs trembling unceasingly as Jake groans and fucks you harder, three, four more times before stilling. He comes with a loud moan, grinding inside you as he rides it out.

After a moment, he collapses on top of you. You grunt at his weight, but smile tiredly at your ceiling, combing your fingers through his hair. You feel him press a kiss on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle, which in turn makes you clench and has Jake whining since he's still buried inside you. Gingerly, he pulls out, both of you hissing at the sensation. He runs a tender finger along the outside of your opening.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned.

“No, baby,” you whisper.

He meets your gaze then, hopeful, still flushed with exertion and glasses slightly foggy. “Baby?”

You hum with a grin. “Yes. My big, beefy baby,” you tease. “I’m keeping you all to myself now.”

“You know, I think I just might be okay with that,” he replies, beaming in a way that puts the sunlight through your window to shame.

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