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nymphie66 · 6 months

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God Bless America pt 2

Part One

Part Three

Author's notes: due to the slightest positive reaction I'm back on my bullshit again, you're welcome??

Soldier boy x f!Supe reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, minors dni - for your own sake, pregnant women get horny too sometimes, dark fic, ben trying to assert dominance - too bad he's a bit of a simp for reader, mentions of a wedding, haven't ramped up to full smut yet but there's always time for that ;)

Find part one here xoxoxo

"Going to the chapel and we're gonna get married.." Ben sang quietly between sips of his beer - he had recently learned that smoking, was not in fact good for your health, let alone the baby's. He carried on cooking, ignoring your struggle against your restraints. The power-subduing cuffs still gracing your wrists, the gag pulled tight against your mouth. You were tied to the kitchen chair, a plate of chicken, potatoes and veg in front of you - whether you wanted it or not, you were going to eat it. It was good for you and the baby after all. Ben sat opposite you with his own plate of bacon, sausage and egg - an American meal for an American man. He looked at you with such content, such joy, he had you, right where he wanted you, all you had to do was comply. "So, baby, you gonna behave or what?"

You stilled, and nodded your head, you didn't need to be honest just no longer gagged and bound. Ben smiled and walked over, removing the gag and untying the rope that bound your arms to the chair. Although still cuffed you could now move your hands to pick up a knife and fork and eat - if you wanted to.

You quickly swallowed the excess saliva that had formed because of the gag and tried not to glare at him. Instead, you just bowed your head looking down at the plate of food. It was bland, the chicken unseasoned and the potatoes looked pale and meek, the vegetables practically soggy over how overcooked they were. Ben never was a good cook.

"Eat up, my son has to get his protein somehow." Ben told you as he took his seat opposite you.

"What about your daughter?" You posed, slowly taking a fork and pushing the mushy carrot around your plate in masked disgust. You knew of Ben's less-than-modern views, but you weren't afraid of them. In fact, you revelled in proving him wrong, in putting him in his place, it often led to more than favourable situations, situations that got you in the predicament that you were in right now.

"She'll need her protein too, to keep up with her old man of course," Ben responded with a smile, and you were at least somewhat comforted by the fact he didn't just ridicule the thought of having a daughter. "Though if she's anything like her mother, she'll be enough to keep me on my toes."

You couldn't help but laugh, an empty one, but a laugh nonetheless. It seemed to encourage him, that you were happy right now, happy to make conversation with him. When in reality you were just waiting, waiting for an opportunity to break free of the cuffs and give him hell.

"You're going to look so pretty in a wedding dress. Fucking divine." Ben commented before taking another sip of his beer, his eyes hungrily darting across your form. You averted your eyes, your heart beating faster under his watch. You were well aware that without your powers, Ben could very much just take what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was evident.

"You are going to have to practice your vows y'know, practice being committed to me till death do us part. No more hotel flings, honey." You told him sourly, and you could see him recoil. You took satisfaction in that and happily stabbed a piece of chicken before putting it in your mouth and chewed laboriously, it wasn't just the vegetables he overcooked.

"Hey, I told you I'm sorry for that, okay? It's never going to happen again, this, this changes things." Ben tried to assure you, pointing his fork at you accusingly, as if it was your fault for taking issue for such a matter.

"Oh so our baby is enough, but I wasn't? I get it Ben." You retorted, finally being able to swallow the driest piece of chicken you have ever had in your life. Ben slammed his hand down onto the table and you would have flinched, if you weren't so used to his dramatics.

"What is it going to take for you to believe me? Huh? I'm marrying you for god's sake-"

"-not by choice, can I add. Don't pretend that your decision to marry me is nothing but you trying to absolve yourself of your guilt or Vought's efforts in damage control." You practically spat, throwing your fork down, for the baby or not, you couldn't put yourself through another mouthful of that godforsaken chicken.

Ben violently stood up from the table and leaned across to you, taking issue with the smile that blossomed across your lips from his agitation. He grabbed your face with his hand and he forced you to look at him. "I am marrying you because I love you. And you love me. And my baby will be loved."

You took particular exception with his declaration that the baby was his, considering you were the one throwing up every morning, and it was messing with your hormones. You used your bound hands to lunge at his throat, and he quickly forced them back down with a brutish strength. To his detriment of course, as from the force of his actions, the cuffs broke against the table. No longer intact and no longer efficient in subduing your powers.

Ben seemed to realise his mistake and quickly retreated backwards, his hands flown up in a surrendering motion. You gasped as your powers returned to you, coursing through you in a form of ecstasy that rivalled anything else. Your eyes glowed in a surge of pure power and you turned to Ben with nothing less than an evil smile. Your powers matched his on a good day, but with this sudden resurgence and hormonal rage, he was putty in your hands - and he knew it.

"Ben, honey, how much did you say you loved me again?" You drawled, running a hand through your hair as you stalked towards him. All caution thrown to the wind, you were on an unparalleled high from days of withdrawal from your powers. Ben stalled and steadied himself against the kitchen counter. "And our baby of course."

"Tonnes, doll, tonnes. Only one for me." Ben quickly tried to assure you, he knew that considering his recent actions, woman or not, you were going to beat his ass, but you just laughed. Usually, he would mock those pussy-ass men who cowered in front of their woman, their bitch. But with the look in your eye, it was just pure survival at this point.

"Those are just words, Ben! Words!" You shouted at him, a hand remaining possessively on your stomach as you continued to walk towards him. "I need more than words Ben, we need more than words. Especially if we're going to get married."

Ben seemed to relax slightly at your concession of a wedding, but he did not at all fall for the bait of a false sense of security. "What do you want?"

"I want them dead. All of them." You responded starkly, your body close to his. Blame the hormones, blame the power rush, but you knew what you wanted. Your mouth then hovered over his ear. "Every bitch that you've bedded, every fling that's screamed your name, I want their head on a goddamn stick, their hearts in a fucking chocolate box. Call it an engagement present."

Ben swallowed thickly and nodded his head, it would be a long list but he was willing to do it, if it meant getting you back, if it meant getting the family he always wanted. You pulled back and looked deeply into his eyes, your head tilting in morbid contentment. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, and you pressed a harsh kiss against his lips. Your arms looping around his neck, your hand tangling in his hair.

Ben seemingly determined to regain some sort of control over the situation, swiped his tongue over your bottom lip before biting it when you didn't grant him access to your mouth. You gasped and allowed it, tugging on his hair violently in acknowledgement of his action. The two of you then engaged in a battle of dominance, that resulted in you getting put on the kitchen counter, thighs spread apart as you felt his hardening cock press against your core. But if Ben thought that he was getting his way, he was wrong.

With a determined shove to his chest, Ben stumbled backwards and looked at you with betrayed eyes. You wiped his saliva from your lip with your thumb and hopped off the counter. Striding towards him before putting a hand on his shoulder and the other grabbing his jaw.

"Sort out the affairs, and until then be grateful that I'm even touching you right now." With that, you released your grip, slapped his cheek lightly and walked off.

"Fucking woman." Ben huffed flipping the table in a fit of anger as he followed your leaving form. The food spilling across the room. You were right, you were always right, and it pissed him off. But that's why he loved you, he supposed, you never gave in to his bullshit beliefs and challenged him at every turn. Which is exactly why he wanted to bend you over, and the fuck the life out of you until all you could say was his name. But that wasn't going to happen until he sorted out those women. Seems like he had some work to get to.

#dark soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x supe!reader #soldier boy #tw: dark content #dark fic #the boys tv #the boys #the boys amazon #jensen ackles #soldier boy x pregnant!reader

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foxgloveprincess · 1 year

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𝕬𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖂𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝕬𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖞𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖘

Welcome to the Attic Wives Anonymous A.U. Here you will find individual stories for our men as well as peeks into their monthly meetings. Each chapter will have its own warnings and summaries—be sure to read them. However, dark themes of kidnapping, stalking, yandere behavior, nonconsent, etc. are prevalent in all the stories or implied/discussed in the meeting chapters. This series is for adults (Minors do not interact, 18+).

Status: Ongoing

🐻 Finish What We’ve Begun 🐻 DBF Ari Levinson x Female Reader

👑 Like A Moth To You 👑 Robert Pronge (aka Mr. Freezy) x Female Reader

🪽 A Bit of My Heart 🪽Jake Jensen x Female Reader

🗝️ A.W.A. Meeting One 🗝️

💍 On Another Level 💍 Andy Barber x Female Reader

🪶 Connection 🪶 Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

🗝️ A.W.A Meeting Two 🗝️

🐻 Finish What We’ve Begun Drabble 🐻 DBF Ari Levinson x Female Reader

🍭 Trapped By Your Love 🍭 Lloyd Hansen x Female Reader

💍 On Another Level (2) 💍 Andy Barber x Female Reader

👑 Like A Moth to You (2) 👑 Mr. Freezy x Female Reader

🪽 A Bit of My Heart (2) 🪽 Jake Jensen x Female Reader

🗝️ A.W.A. Meeting Three 🗝️

🪶 Connection (2) 🪶 Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

🐻 Finish What We’ve Begun (2) 🐻 DBF Ari Levinson x Female Reader

👑 Like A Moth To You Drabble 👑 Mr. Freezy x Female Reader

💍 On Another Level (3) 💍 Andy Barber x Female Reader

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vellicore · 4 months

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IMPORTANT INFO ~ As always this is intended for an adult audience only. Minors do not interact! 18+ only - no exceptions. You do not have permission to translate, copy, or steal my work. If you see my work any place other than here or ao3 it has been posted without my consent.

Now to the good stuff...

About the event: New year means a new writing event. It's been awhile since I did my last one so I thought the new year would be the perfect opportunity to have one. Plus, kiddo is now back to school so I have more time to write. Yay! How to request: Please use this form to send it your requests.

Format of the requests: For this writing event you will select one character, an AU, a writing prompt, and one kink. If you do not wish for your request to be an AU there is an option for it to be Canon universe.

Time table: This will take place from now until January 31st. My goal is to have all requests completed by then (unless I get some on the 31st.) Please note that this is a dark writing event. If dark fics are not your thing then please do not participate.

If you have any questions or concerns, don't be afraid to reach out.

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

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Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

We’re back with some more smutty, kinky, and dark fun for the month of October. These one shots are not from any existing AU. These will get very dark so read ALL warnings before hand. My blog is an 18+ ONLY space. All minors and hate will be blocked. This is fiction, have fun. This year I’m introducing a few more characters instead of just Chris and Sebastian characters...

Ablutophilia with Chris Beck Breath Play with Ari Levinson Candaulism with Nick Vaughan Dacryphilia with Mike Weiss Ejaculating Toy with Chase Collins Forced Voyeurism with Nick Fowler Grooming with Napoleon Solo Hate Sex with Ransom Drysdale Innocence Kink with Frank Adler Jealousy with William ‘Ironhead’ Miller Key Party with Andy Barber Lactation Kink with Jake Jensen Mutual Masturbation with Mickey Henry Non-Con with Jax Teller Objectification with Lance Tucker Possessive Behavior with Angel Reyes Quirt with Steve Kemp Ravishment Fantasy with Jefferson Somnophilia with Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes Tea Bagging with Dean Winchester & Soldier Boy Uteromania with Justin Capshaw Vampire Gloves with Sam Winchester Water Play with Captain Syverson Xenophilia with Tyler Rake Yandere with August Walker Zipper Dinner with Lloyd Hansen Electrostimulation with Mr. Freezy Harpaxophilia with Curtis Everett Housewife Kink with Clark Kent Kidnapping with Walter Marshall Coercion with Carter Baizen & Bryce Langley

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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Mean Jake hensen with a dummy prude crybaby reader

Like her family is super conservat8ve but they let her date jake because they thi k he is harmless but what they dont know is that he is pouding they daughter in the classroom

Jake deserves more love

they think he's such a good guy, a great influence on their daughter who will help her navigate her new college. he's fooled them with his charm and his bright smile, he's got good grades, a good family, and a good future ahead of him, what harm could he do? they don't know he's slowly corrupting their daughter, sneaking into your bedroom to touch you, gagging you so you wouldn't wake them up. he introduces you to all the kinks: daddy kink, degradation, dumbification, size kink, spit kink, breeding kink, cum kink, and the list goes on. he pushes the boundaries, touching you under the blanket during movie night, fucking you in his car in the driveway, and demanding you don't wear panties so he has easy access 🫣 "That's it, give daddy those pretty tears. Love it when you're a dumb, little crybaby."

#AHHHH #JAKE JAKE JAKE #I LOVE HIM #mean bf jensen #ask sonny #jake loving hours #sonny drabbles #jake jensen #mean jake jensen #jake jensen x innocent!reader #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen fanfic #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen smut #dark jake jensen #tw dark fic #dark!jake jensen

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darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

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Roo’s Campus AU Masterlist

First Semester (Timeline)

Book Smart (Steve Rogers, MCU)

Below Average (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

Overdue (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

Straightlaced (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob)

Apple of His Eye (Jake Jensen, The Losers)

Heated (Johnny Storm, Fantastic Four)

Quick Study (Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Second Semester

Fresh Meat (Thor, MCU)

Messy (Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Unspoken Crimes (Frank Castle and Billy Russo, The Punisher, MCU)

Prerequisite (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

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writethelifeyouwant · 1 year

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Shadows | Masterlist

UPDATE:

Hi everyone! Thank you so much to all who had an interest in this fic, I really appreciate your support! This story idea originally came from the fantastic brain of another writer and I was honoured to be asked to write the idea for them. However as I'm sure you've all noticed I've had to take a step back from writing lately due to my health and work commitments, so I haven't been able to spend as much time and energy on this story as I'd originally hoped.

SO, I'm super excited to say that the original brainstormer - @synmorite - will be taking this story back over and taking it in a new creative direction! There will likely be some similarities in the set up but she'll be taking a different spin on what I and planned and I can't wait to read it!

Make sure you all head on over to her account and give her a follow so you can keep reading some excellent dark smutty Jensen fic 😈 and show Syn all the love!! 💜

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

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Apple of his Eye

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, age gap, drugging, somniphilia, hints of petplay, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your life on campus is a dream until you meet a overly helpful tech. (plus sized reader)

Characters: Jake Jensen

A note on reader characters:

For clarity, each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own. So far, we have:

Book Smart: Tweed

Below Average: Flora

Overdue: Cookie

Straightlaced: Brownie

Heated: Teach

Note: So this is gonna cap off the ‘First Semester’ in our Campus AU. My plans are to have Ransom in the Second Semester and some non-Evans characters to round it out. Thanks to everyone for your encouragement and ideas to this point and going forward! This has been so much fun.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖

Rustic goldenrods and roasted amber carpet campus grounds as a crisp breeze stirs the tails of your long jacket. You welcome the dropping temperatures, leaving your buttons undone and your scarf dangling loosely down your front, a knitted frilly mess you did yourself, not quite what it’s meant to be. The unusual, the imperfect, never bothers you.

You can’t even be upset that your laptop’s a brick. A black screen unsolved by plugging in the cord you lost under your bed and a button that does nothing. You sigh, wistfully. You think of a stormy ocean and a rocking boat, your fingers fidgeting to get the feeling onto canvas.

No, you have a paper due. If it wasn’t for the dead laptop, you’d be hunkered down at your dorm typing and basking in the scent of Cookie’s baking. C’est la vie. It gives you a chance to enjoy the scenery.

You have to turn back as you reach the medical sciences building, you went too far. You finally get your bearings, with some help from a lanky boy who seems in a rush, and hop up the steps of the Student Support Centre.

Inside, voices fill the space, tutors and their pupils, a row of techs behind a round desk typing away, the smell of coffee from the cafe booth stationed by the door.

You join the queue for IT Walk-Ins and distract yourself with the pamphlets set out on the counter, eyeing them. ‘Protect your PC; Antivirus and Firewalls’, ‘VPNs and Internet Safety’, ‘Cloud Storage; Never Lose Another Word’. You never understood computers very well, never got much into them, but you liked to watch your high school friend Selisha play her cooking simulator.

When your turn comes at the head of the snake cordoned off along the desk, you step up and the man who greets you seems vaguely familiar. Well, everyone seems familiar to you. You have a mind for faces but not a mind for names.

“Hi,” you chirp, “my computer won’t start.”

“Hey,” he smiles. His spiky hair and peculiar facial hair does make him stand out. “How are you?”

“Great, but my computer,” you insist, “I don’t want to forget. I need to write a paper so I need to get it to wake up.”

He chuckles, “can I see it?”

“Oh, I guess that will help,” you lift the canvas bag you tossed the laptop in, hand-painted flowers stain the white fabric.

“Thanks,” he takes the bag and slides out your laptop, “you got the cord.”

“Oh, berries, I forgot it!” you exclaim and clap your hands, he lifts a brow at the gesture, still smiling.

“That’s okay, I got a bunch back here,” he disappears as he kneels to search behind the counter. He stands back up and guides a cord to your laptop, sticking it in the port.

He hits the power button, several times then looks it over as he lifts it. You bounce on your feet.

“I hope you can save it,” you chew your lip.

“Um, I’ll do my best,” he looks at you over the top, “you don’t remember me?”

You shake your head and shrug, the smell of cinnamon teasing your nose. It makes you miss Cookie. You peek over at the cafe.

“Have you ever tried their cinnamon buns? They smell delicious?”

Another laugh. That’s usually the response you get. People are always so amused by you.

“I know your friend. Cookie?”

You face him again, “oh, she’s real sweet. I love her. So… the computer?”

“Well,” he adjusts his glasses, “can you give me a few hours to coax her awake? I think she just needs a soft touch.”

“A few hours?”

“Sure, I… I think so, things like these could take days but you can check back by closing and we’ll have a diagnosis at least. In the meanwhile, I’ll give you a ticket to get a loaner.”

“A loaner?”

“You see that desk,” he takes a pen out of a cup and points past you, “the hub? Go there, give them this and they’ll hook you up.”

He writes on a blue slip and hands it over. You take it and look it over. “Thank you.”

“For a pretty face like yours, I’ll get it done,” he winks.

You smile big. He seems nice enough. Not like the other techs talking in dull voices to the students, glaring at screens angrily.

“I’m going to get a cinnamon bun first,” you announce as you sweep away, “yummy yummy.”

You leave the counter and go over to the cafe nestled in the corner. A girl with curly hair passes with her nose in a coffee cup as you approach the till. You search your jacket for your coin purse and order a bun from the fresh batch.

“Thank you so much,” you take the dessert and bite into it as you turn back.

Where did you put the ticket? You let the but hang from your mouth and search for the blue slip, smearing the sweet glaze across it. You catch the bun and chew, your eyes drifting over as they meet another pair. Jensen waves at you as your gazes meet. You return the gesture before heading over to the hub.

📕

You're out of breath as you reach the doors of the IT Centre. You forgot. Again. You're only happy Cookie isn't there to say it aloud, or Flora to give you that mommish look.

You burst through the doors and your rainbow converse squeak on the floor. It's nearly empty as your heavy gulps fill the silence. You suck in air and sweep over to the counter, a singular tech left behind; Jackson?

As he turns to you, a brow raised, you see your error on the name tag pinned to his striped button up. J. Jensen. Hm.

"Hey, I didn't think you were coming back," he grins.

"I'm so sorry, I was staring at my lava lamp, thinking of the shapes and… I mean, I was working on my paper."

He doesn't remark on your rambling as he turns to look around, "well, good news is I figured it out. It's your battery."

"Oh? So… fixable?"

"Fixed," he confirms and puts down a paper, "just need you to sign here to finalise the repair."

"Oh, of course," you reach in your bag, searching for a pen as you sway. You pull out a long pen topped with a fluffy end as Jensen offers a plain bic.

You laugh as you wiggle the pen at him and step closer to look over the page. 'Replacement Battery $170'.

"Oh?" You bat your lashes at him, "do I owe you–"

"It's on the house," he waves away your concern, "college kids needa save their money."

"Oh, that's too nice but I have a credit card, just in case–"

"Save it for another just in case," he insists, "before I close up, you need anything transferred from the loaner? We wipe those once returned so."

Your mouth forms an O as you scribble across the line and slide the paper back.

"I… forget it in my dorm," you smack your forehead, "oh my gosh."

"That's fine," he peels off the back page and sets it on your laptop, "you take this and bring back the loaner tomorrow."

"Really?"

"I trust you," he assures you.

"Alright," you take your laptop and hug it. The stickers across the shell curl at the corners and catch on your jacket sleeves.

"Do one thing for me," he says.

"Mhmm," you nod.

"Take care of her," he points to the computer, "she's still fragile…" he leans against the counter and lowers his voice secretively, "I did a bit of a clean-up, you wanna be a bit more careful what you're clicking on in your email."

"Ah, oh, yeah, Flora says the same thing," you chirp, "well I should go. I gotta finish my paper."

"Uh," he looks disappointed, "sure, well, good night."

"Nighty night," you trill and spin away.

You skip to the doors and clatter against the handle, barely saving the laptop from falling. You carry on without looking back as you hear a stifled snort. As usual, it all just sorta turns out for you.

📕

Cookie offers to take back the loaner for you after you forget about it for a couple days. You let her as you're not sure you'll ever find the energy. A flashback of your childhood library fines briefly flags in your memory.

Your paper gets sent off before the deadline and you return to the canvas propped up beside your twin bed. Between classes and studying, you barely have enough time left to focus on your own creativity. You took art because you thought it would be simple. Well, nothing's ever as simple as you like.

Live painting is your favourite, the instructor is chill and vibrant. There's a warmth to him, not like those theory professors who assume you don't know the difference between abstract and modern styles. There's a lot of people who assume you don't know much of anything.

Your laptop is open, blaring a playlist from Youtube. You don't pay too much attention to it as it lingers in the background as you focus on your paintbrush. You hope Cookie likes it. You told her the place needs some colour and it's the perfect size for the front room.

Your alarm goes off and signals your looming lecture. You have a million timers left, a suggestion from Cookie. She's smart and organized, your idea of order gets rather chaotic.

You wash your brushes and snatch up your bag. The music on your laptop stops before you can close it. A pop-up flashes, closes, then another pops up, then the whole screen goes black.

You hit the power button, the space bar, you shut it then open it. It's broken. Again.

You huff and grab your phone. You don't have time to worry about it. You have a notebook.

You leave the computer on your night table and dig out your keys from the tray of random buttons, wrapped candies, and ribbons. For once, they're not lost in the couch or somewhere inexplicable.

You race out as the time ticks down. You'll be late as always, just less than usual.

📕

The IT Centre is more crowded than before. Winter descends on campus over night as exams approach through the gloom. There's an air of panic but you feel fine. You never study for exams and you do just fine.

You wait in line, your headphones pushed back behind your ears so you can still hear the music but also the noises all around you.

When you get to the front of the line, you go to the counter and plop your computer on the desk. You pull your headphones around your neck. The man behind the counter greets you in monotone, asking what the issue is.

"Bernard," another interrupts, "your break," Jensen nudges him, "I'll cover."

"Mm," the dark-haired tech grumbles, "sure."

Jensen takes over as he slides your computer closer, "didn't expect to see you so soon."

"You remember me?" You smile.

"Of course, it's been what? A week? Plus, how could I forget you?" He grins dopily as you sniff the air, the smell of baking drawing your gaze to the cafe stand. "So… what's going on?"

"Um," you turn back to him, "oh yeah, I was listening to music and it just… stopped."

"Hmm," he scratches his chin and looks over the laptop.

He tries booting it up with no luck then plugs it in. Still no luck. He stretches another cord into the ethernet port and types on the flat keyboard of the computer next to him.

"Aha, here we go," he smiles as a glow comes from your computer, "just a bit of clean up to do."

"How long?"

"When do you need it?" He asks.

"Well, I don't know, I don't use it very much," you shrug, "I can just go to the library…" you think of the broken statue of Atlantis left in your stead.

"I can write you another ticket for a loaner–"

"No, no, it's okay," you insist, you don't want to put that on Cookie again, "I'll be okay."

"Alright, well," he sounds disappointed but you can't guess why, "I'll call you when it's ready."

"Sure, sounds good," you say as you dig out your wallet, "oooh, I love apple fritters."

"Wait," Jensen calls, "hey, you gotta sign off on this?"

You stop yourself from wandering away and turn back. "Oh, okay," you fish out your fluffy pen as he fills out a yellow form.

He places it before you and you quickly scribble on the line, dropping the pen and walking away. You hate the old thing anyhow. You could always buy a new one.

📕

“It’s so quiet up here,” Cookie whispers as she sits and you look up from your doodling.

You lean against Flora, who is tense with her intent studying, as Tweed chews her wool sleeve and fidgets. The girls are a welcome addition and you see more of them as Cookie invites them along to your movie nights and market lunches.

“And warm,” Tweed hugs herself, “private.”

“I like it,” Flora sneers, “no fuckheads to hound me.”

Her anger makes you curious. It builds and builds and one day, it will spill over. She doesn’t listen when you tell her how toxic the energy is. No one really listens to you as they can only think of exams.

“Look,” you lift your pad and show the sketch of Flora, vulnerable and pensive, “I call it ‘Wrath’. It’s part of my series on the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Jesus,” your subject frowns at her likeness.

Cookie tisks and gives you that look. You put the pad down and go back to adding a few last-minute touches, the heaters above blasting down furiously.

Cookie sits up as you flip to a new page and stretches her arms. She's tired. She's awake when you get out of bed and when you fall into it. You worry for her, she works too hard.

“Ugh, my neck,” she rubs the muscles beside her neck, “I’m gonna stretch my legs.”

“Don’t get lost,” you look up with a grin, “I feel a presence.”

Flora shakes her head in the way she does of all your comments as Tweed sinks down further. Cookie says Tweed is scared but of what, you don't know. You feel guilty realising your remark may not help that.

She purses her lips and wanders away. She disappears down and aisle as you return to your mindless scribbles, not doing much but wasting the page.

The silence enthralls the girls as they bow over facts they won't recall in a month. Cramming for exams full of useless trivia. Your deadly sins will be your capstone for live drawing, your theory and style classes will be decided on the whims of your brain.

Your eyes drift up to Cookie’s empty seat. How long has it been?

"Um," you wiggle your pencil at Flora and she sighs as she sits up to glower at you. You point to the chair beside Tweed.

"Where is she?" Flora asks as her anger drains to concern.

"She went that way…" you wave towards the books.

"Let's just go check," Flora stands, "she's been gone a while."

You stand, Tweed slowly rising as she untangles her legs. You have a bad feeling but you can't name it. Flora leads the charge through the aisle and walks up and down the rows.

She stops at the end, hands on her hips as she faces you, the mighty leader.

“She’s gotta be in the bathroom,” Flora says.

“Right,” you agree, “we’ll go check.”

“There isn’t one on this floor, it’s downstairs,” Tweed adds.

“Well, then we’ll go there,” Flora says, “come on.”

You nod and glance over at the storage closet. Where could she be? She would tell you if she was going far? Right?

You go with the girls to the stairwell, looking up and down the aisles along the way. You get to the next floor and find the bathrooms. Cookie isn't in there, just some fourth years chatting about their GPAs.

You huff and retreat back to the stairwell where the hush is firmly locked on the other side of the doors.

"We should ask a librarian," Tweed suggests, "they have cameras, right?"

"I don't understand," Flora crosses her arms.

Tweed squirms and clasps her hands. She looks terrified.

"I don't like the library," she whispers.

"Oh, come on," Flora throws up her hands, "let's go."

You follow her barreling steps down the stairs to the main floor. She strides over to the counter but it's empty. You glance around desperately. You see a familiar face.

"Oh wait, I know him," you bound forward as Jensen stands at the self-checkout, tapping on the screen in a window of cryptic text. "J…Jensen," you grasp his name from the air as you near him, "hey, do you know the librarian?"

He's surprised as he turns to you, hand resting on the thin monitor. He looks behind you at Flora and Tweed and his brows draw together.

"Curtis, sure? I'm just here fixing this damn thing for him," he slaps the screen, "what's up?"

"We can't find Cookie, you remember her, right?"

"The one with the cupcakes, uh huh," his eyes flit back and forth.

"We were on the sixth floor and she went to stretch her legs," Flora explains, "then she was just gone. You got cameras, right? Check them."

He winces at her demands and looks at you. You fold your hands together, "please, Jensen."

He thinks and nods, "fine, but Curtis hates when I mess around with his stuff. Only when it's broken, you know?"

He leads you over to the desk and you walk parallel to him as he dips behind it. He stops at the computer and clicks around. His eyes scan the screen as it glares off his glasses. He rubs the patch of hair on his chin.

"Well, do you see anything?" Flora asks.

"The angles are… off, I can't see down the aisles."

"Then what's the point," Flora harrumphs, "I swear–"

"Here, I'll help you look," he offers as he stands straight, "I'm sure she's up there somewhere. Did you check the bathrooms?"

"The one on the fifth, yeah," Flora answers.

"Not the second one on the fifth?" He asks, "see…" he taps a map laminated on the counter, "there's two because the sixth doesn't have one."

"Shit," Flora spins and races away.

You struggle to keep up as she busts back through the doors. Jensen follows behind you up the stairs and you're huffing as you reach the fifth. He directs you towards the other aet of bathrooms and you hurry over. You wait outside as Flora goes in to check.

She comes out and shakes her head, "she's not there."

"Oh no, no, no, no," Tweed chants, "no."

"Check upstairs again?" Jensen suggests.

He turns and stops short as you walk into him. Flora and Tweed hover behind, "wait, there's Curt."

He waves to the librarian and weaves between the tables to reach him, "hey, these girls are looking for their friend. You know her, right?"

"Cookie," you say, "please."

"Haven't seen her," he shrugs and tilts his head until his neck cracks, "sorry."

Flora swears and Tweed covers her face, ready to cry. You hug the latter with one arm as she begins to shake.

"Tweed, it's okay, alright," Flora turns to her, softening, "let's go back upstairs and get our stuff. We should probably call the campus PD, too. Shit..." she can't help but revert to anger, "alright, let's go."

"Thanks," you say to Jensen and his friend as you usher Tweed past, "we're so sorry."

"We'll keep looking," Jensen promises as he gives a look to Curtis.

You attempt a smile and press on. You're really worried now. You trail Flora up the stairs as Tweed drags her feet, weeping into her sleeves, distraught.

As you pass the shelves and come back to the table, Flora stutter steps, "Cookie?"

Cookie sits at the table, her mouth hidden behind her fist as she leans on her elbow and stares at her notebook. Her eyes aren't moving before they flit up to Flora and the rest of you.

"Oh my god, we were looking all over," Flora rushes over, "what happened?"

"Sorry, guys, you must've missed me," her voice scratches and she lowers her eyes quickly, "I had to... use the ladies'."

She shifts in her chair and her throat constricts. She touches it subtly, her fingers lingering on one spot as she winces. You don't understand but you suppose there's a lot of people here. It's easy to miss a body.

But something's amiss. You look at Flora, she knows it too. Tweed is silent and still as she watches Cookie.

"Well, are you gonna study or stare?" she says, "jeez, let's end this semester."

You reluctantly sit around the table as Cookie ignores your glances. You look at your sketchpad and pick up your pencil. You peek up at your roommate as she bats her lashes and wiggles her nose. Perhaps, the virtues would a better subject than the sins.

📕

The call comes when you least expect it. You quickly pull on your coat over your oversized baby pink sweater with the daisies. Cookie's in the kitchen but there's no delicious smells comforting your wintertime malaise. She hasn't done much baking lately but you don't comment on it. She's stressed about exams, just like everyone else.

She looks over at you dully, a textbook open on the table. You smile.

"Hey, I gotta get my laptop," you announce giddily, "I forgot it was even gone."

"Wish I could do that," she drones, her eyes squinting, "wait, is it that guy? J... whatever?"

"Jensen, yeah."

"Curtis' friend..." she mumbles, "be careful."

"Be careful," you trill curiously, "oh Cookie, you're so sweet."

"I mean it," she looks you in the eye, "get your laptop and come home... we'll make smores."

"Ooo, yummy," you rub your hands together before swiping up your bag, "see ya."

"Mhmm," is her only response as you dig around for your keys and spin through the door.

You take your time crossing campus, the snow crunching pleasantly under your treads. The IT building is draped in white along the big arch and you take in the splendour of season. You climb the steps and enter the mostly empty lobby, it's closing hour and campus is eerily silent when exams come around.

The door shuts quietly behind you, some voices come low from the other side of the airy lobby. You see Jensen, his shoulder curled as he faces away from you. He rubs the back of his neck as another head peeks over his, a man about the same height, broader, with longer hair. The two of them are intent on a small pink chromebook.

"Dude, I'm telling you, it works." Jensen insists.

"You sure?" The other challenges.

"Yeah, I've tested it. She's what? A history major, she won't know to look for it in the programming. No cover--" he stops as the other man looks over his head and you smile and give an awkward wave.

"Sorry, I'm late," you giggle. You're used to the meaningless apology.

The stranger folds up the chromebook and takes it, tucking it under his arm, "I should go. She thinks I'm getting coffee."

"Alright," Jensen stands as he turns to watch the other man leave. You step aside as he passes.

"Sorry about that. Client," he smiles as he comes closer, you notice the furry top of your pen sticking out of his pocket. You must’ve left it there. "I got your computer all set up. I had to hand over the repair to Tanji so it took a little longer."

"Sure," you meet him at the desk, "do I owe you anything?"

"Easy fix, just... backed up is all," he shrugs, "we're even."

"Great," you grin as he places your silver laptop before you, "thanks. Oh, and thank you... at the library."

"Ah, you know, I'm always fixing things over there, what's one more?" He shrugs.

"Yeah, but you didn't have to help us," you take the laptop, "that was so sweet of you."

"Mmm," he nods and his fingers twiddle on the edge of the counter.

"I should... I should pay you back," you say, "my roommate loves to bake. I could bring you some cookies or... Or! I can paint you something. I also knit. And I can do pottery."

"That's so nice of you," he says, "really, I'm just doing my job."

"I know, I know, I'm just trying to... be more aware," you frown as you think of Cookie. And Tweed. Even Flora. You know there's something bothering them but you find it hard to ask. Sometimes, you get trapped in your own head. "Do you like anime?"

"I love anime," he brightens up, "oh, you know, I was thinking of starting this new one-- are you busy tonight? Wait, well, you got to study, I--"

"I'm supposed to make smores," you pout, "Cookie hasn't been baking, I don't want her to stop for good."

"Tomorrow," he says hopefully.

"My exam's late. Six to nine," you sway as you hug your laptop.

"I'll meet you. I'm closing so you could stop here and we can go to my place. If that's not too weird. I have a whole set-up. New sound system."

"Erm," you chew your lip. You know it's gotten a bit crowded since exams started, Cookie could use a night without your careless blathering. "Sure! Can I bring my stuffy?"

"Stuffy?" he squints.

"It's a stuffed narwhal. He's old. Like as old as me. His name is Murtaugh."

"Like Lethal Weapon?" he scoffs.

"Sort of, he looks grumpy so..."

"Sure, you and Murtaugh are bother welcome."

"Amazing. Cookie hates cartoons. I tell her, anime isn't the same but she doesn't listen. A lot of people don't listen to me, you know." You bob in place with excitement, "except you."

"Always," he assures and plays with the button of his shirt, "I mean, you're pretty interesting...to listen to?"

"Ha, you're too much," you sigh, "well, I gotta go! I love smores."

"I'm jealous," he says as you spin away, "don't stay up too late. I want to go through six episodes, at least."

"Six? That's nothing," you call back over your shoulder.

📕

Jensen’s place is cool. A whole wall of shelves lined with figurines of characters from old martial arts movies to infamous anime to the classic comic books. Where you’re more prone to losing things, he collects them. You suspect his placement of each tiny figure is entirely deliberate as you admire them.

You step back to peer down at the colourful spines of manga on the rows beneath, beside several boxy consoles you don’t know the name of. You can guess they’re outdated, displayed as relics on the more cubish levels of the shelf.

“You want something to drink,” he calls from the kitchen,” I got these sodas from Japan; green apple, kiwi, cotton candy…”

“Ooo, I’ll try the cotton candy,” you answer as you turn and walk along the large TV.

You hear the hiss and fizzle, followed by a metal tinkle as he opens the bottles. As he enters, you look up, playing with the pom poms that dangle from the string of your lime green hoodie.

“Here,” he hands you the bright pink soda in a glass bottle, “it’s really sweet. Haven’t touched that flavour because of it.”

“Oh, great, I love sweet,” you take it as he puts his on the square table beside the arm of the couch.

“I can tell he says,” he picks up the remote, standing in front of the couch as he clicks through the menu, “please, sit, I’ll find the show– ah, I almost forgot.”

He quits his browsing and once more leaves the room. You sit and take a sip from the neck of the bottle, it makes your cheek pinch. You unthinkingly drain half the bottle as you wait for him, eyes devouring the posters on the wall; framed cartoon characters and 1970s movie promos.

“Here we go,” he rushes in, awkwardly sidling in front of you and sitting heavy on the cushion beside you, dropping the remote beside him as he presents the headband. The furry pink cat ears are adorable but unexpected. “I, uh, saw this and thought of you. Is that weird?”

You smile and shrug and put the bottle on the matching square table on the other side of you, “no, I don’t think so. That’s so nice.”

“Do you mind?” he lifts them, angling the band as if to slip on you.

“Uh, sure,” you bow your head, “Cookie’s gonna love them.”

You think of your roommate. You sit up as you realise you forgot to tell her where you are. Well, she knows you have an exam. Certainly by now she’s used to you and your flaky schedule. You’ll tell her when you get home.

You sit up and touch the ears as the band squeezes your head, “oh, do they look cute?”

“Yeah,” Jensen grins, “very, there’s a mirror–”

You’re up on your feet as he points to the far wall. You brush against him as you rise and jaunt over to look at your reflection. You giggle as you take in the furry ears.

“I like bunnies better,” you say as you go back to him, “but kittens are precious, too.”

You yawn as you sit beside him again and pull over your stuffed whale from where you left him against the arm. He gives you a lingering look and his hand moves as if to touch you before retracting. He turns and points the remote at the TV, his glass glowing with the TV screen as he focuses on it.

“Uh, I’m so sleepy,” you say as your cheeks burn hotly. You felt energised after your exam, the finality enlivening you, but now you feel heavy. You reach for the bottle and take another deep gulp, hoping the fizziness will wake you up.

“You promised me six episodes,” he hits play and puts the remote down before sitting back, his arm pressing to yours, “don’t you pass out on me.”

You laugh at him. He’s silly and very close. You force your eyes wide, “I won’t.”

You turn to the screen and watch the plucky intro. You swallow several yawns as he leans on you. You don’t know that he realises it but you don’t say anything. It’s comforting. You can Cookie nestle together under a quilt on your movie nights, sometimes Tweed in between you.

The heat builds under your fluffy hoodie and you sit forward, the room swirling in the faint glow of the orbish lamps. He has the bulbs set to a soft pink hue that puts your eyes out of focus. You pull your hoodie over your head and heap it beside you on the couch as you sit back and fix the cat ears that hang over your forehead.

“You okay?” Jensen’s voice skews slightly beneath those coming from the large speakers.

“Fine,” you chirp, “this is interesting, so far.”

You yawn again as you sink back into the couch, your shoulder against his as you let Murtaugh fall loose from your arm. You blink and his arm is behind your neck. You squirm but don’t push him away. He’s just getting cozy.

Your lashes droop as the bright colours burn your irises. Again, you close your eyes. A long, deep blink. This time his hand is on your knee, playing with a fold in your sweat pants. You touch his hand but don’t have the strength to shove him away.

You shake your head and squint at the TV. You can’t remember what’s going on, there’s flashes, someone’s fighting. Your eyes are on fire. You shut them to keep them from watering. You feel the world shift and you land on a soft cloud as you slump to the slide.

Gently, you’re rolled onto your back in the surreal and shallow consciousness. Something’s wrong. You’re awake but asleep at the same time. Your eyes flutter but only give glimpses of a word rippled with confusion.

There’s a weight over, scalding breath down the round collar of your tee, your legs part as the figure is cradled between them. You fling your arm out and it hangs over the edge of the couch as you babble. He groans in your ear as you feel tugging at the elastic around your hips.

He hushes you before smothering you with a soft kiss. It’s a dream, it can’t be anything else. He pulls down the wrinkled band past your thighs, caress the tender flesh as he delicately reveals your legs. You shiver as he kneads the flesh and backs up to loom between your knees.

Your eyelids meet again and suddenly, a coolness grazes your naked pelvis, your panties clinging to your ankle as one foot touches the floor. A tingle builds to a steady tickle, twisting and twining to something more intense.

You arch your back and lift your spinning head to look down at Jensen, seeing only the top of his hair as he bends between your thighs, a wet noise nesting in your ears as you drop back to the cushion.

A spike radiates from your core as you quiver and gasp. It’s a task just to make a sound, to do more than breathe and just be.

He sits up as you once more peek out with slitted eyes. His tee shirt swoops over his head, a torso muscled and hairy stains your vision as the darkness blinds you again. The rustle of fabric and movement on the other end of the sofa pricks your ears as goosebumps raise on your skin.

Your leg is lifted as fingers glide between your wet folds. Eager, exploring, he rubs you until you spasm and dips deeper. You whine as he pokes past the resistance. You grumble and push your elbows into the couch, trying to lift yourself only to collapse beneath the inextricable haze.

He drags slick fingertips up your pelvis, pushing your shirt up your stomach, bending to toy with your tits. You never wear a bra, you hate them. He takes a nipple in his mouth, the pressure plucking at your core.

His tending trails up to your mouth. He kisses your slack lips, torso flush to yours as he gropes your chest with one hand. A shuddery breath tenses his body as his touch wanders lower. You wince and whimper, head lolling as you try to latch onto reality. It’s too intense to be just as a dream.

He guides his tip along your cunt. You gasp and gulp as you clasp onto his shoulder weakly. He rubs up and down, slickening himself and sucking in air as the room turns static. He holds in his breath as he pushes into you, just enough for you to squeak in pain. What is he doing?

He gets a little deeper and you slap his shoulder, your hand bouncing off as the dizziness has your eyes rolling back. You mewl as he reaches to fix the head band on your head, petting you as he sinks further and further. Your thighs tremble from the agony cording around your hips and spine.

“Good kitty,” he purrs as he rubs his nose against yours, “you can do it– ahh!”

He bottoms out and you whine. It hurts, the pain dull but still there. He rocks against you, grasping and groping at your side, hip, and thigh. His rhythm picks up as he loses himself in you. You squeeze your eyes shut.

You’re sleeping. It’s not real. If it is, you can pretend it’s not.

“You feel so good, kitten,” he rasps as he fucks you harder, faster, “so good. Aren’t you a good kitty?”

You murmur as your arms fall straight and dangles over the edge.

“Say, kitty, say it,” he snarls against your cheek, “say your my good kitty.”

You heave, you can’t think, you can’t move. A garbled noise rises from your throat.

“Say it,” he hisses as he pinches your stomach, flesh slapping against your pelvis.

“I– I–” your voice is not your own, it sounds distant and distorted, “I’m your good kitty.”

He grunts and thrusts harder. You whimper and squeeze your eyes shut as you tilt your head up and grit through the pain. He sits back, hooking your legs around him and holding them there. He pounds into you as he pants.

“Yeah, that’s it, kitty, fuck,” he growls as his tempo grows torturous, “I’m– almost–”

He huffs and his pace grows spasmodic. He moans as you feel warmth pool inside you, coating your walls and spreading as he fucks his cum into you. He slows as it leaks out, squelching loudly until he stills. He exhales and spreads his hand across your pelvis.

He falls onto you, hugging you beneath him as you shiver. His warmth is suffocating as he clings to you, nuzzling your hair as he traces the line of the headband behind your ear.

“J-J–” you try to say his name as your thick tongue sticks in your dry mouth, you can hardly get the thoughts together, “...never…”

He hums and kisses your cheek softly, “it was my first time too,” he says, “I love you, kitty.”

#jake jensen #dark jake jensen #dark!jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #campus au #college au #apple of his eye #the losers #dc

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lilacevans · 4 months

Text

You're on the brink of homelessness and strapped for cash after a relationship breakdown when you finally find employment at a shady club. After rejecting the owner's countless advances, he takes a higher cut from your already miniscule pay. While searching for a better job, you do what you have to get by and begin propositioning private dances to club clients and not disclosing your extra earnings, like you're supposed to. What happens when the owner (and his family) finds out?

Main Warnings/Triggers:

Coercion, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Free Use, Manipulation, Blackmail, Prostitution, Kidnapping, Sadism, Lost Puppy Syndrome, Obsession. (More to be added, already plenty on the list.)

Full reveal & intro soon! | pete's place masterlist

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slothspaghettiwrites · 2 years

Note

Just thinking about obsessed stalker!jake jensen owning a custom made sex doll that looks exactly like you.

Not only does he fuck the doll but also treats it like a real person. He’s your top fan on your streaming website (the porn type😏). He showers with ‘you’, sleeps with ‘you’, has breakfast, lunch and dinner with ‘you’. Spends almost 24/7 with ‘you’, the only time he is not with the doll is when he follows real you, while you a grocery shopping or something like that. One time you even talked to him, asking if he knew where the pasta sauce is, he almost passed out. That night he fucked ‘you’ harder than ever before.

He always listens to recordings of you moaning during your life streams, while fucking the doll and just so you know, he goes for hours without a single break.

OH MY DAYS

You and You and Me

Warnings: Soft!Dark!Jake Jensen, Literal Doll!Reader/Sex Worker!Reader(afab), mentioned stalking, obsession, yandere behaviour, squirting

He groans, watching the thick purple vibrator slip inside your abused pussy. God it's like fucking torture. But he knows your body, he knows that you won't be hold back much longer. Fuck, he hopes you squirt.

"Look how fucking messy you are, doll." His fingers dig into the plastic, lube smearing across his thighs as he fucks you in time with the vibrator. Jake buries his nose into your hair and inhales. He can smell the hair products you use, so fucking happy he followed you around the store last month.

On screen you're begging, you're desperate to cum now. Jake's free hand moves across his keyboard.

Cum on my cock, doll, make a fucking mess.

He sweetens the command with a $50 tip. And fuck do you listen. Your body jerks, thrusting the vibe in harder and faster. Just at the last minute you pull out the toy and furiously rub your clit. Your juices drip from your swollen pussy and onto your blanket. It doesn't spray like he wants, but it's good enough for now.

He fucks you harder. If you can't do it, you will now with him. His dick twitches, he's close but it's missing something. Jake pulls up his favourite audio clip of you. Your breathy little moans surround his apartment and he flips you over until you're riding his cock.

His finger wrap around your loose crop top. You hadn't even noticed it was missing from your wash basket last week. He uses it as leverage to pull you down harder on his dick. As the recording of you grows needier, your gasps of pleasure being drawn out, he fumbles for the remote on the coffee table. He pushes a button, your pussy rhythmically squeezing his cock now.

Jake groans, matches the slapping sound in your audio that he knows is real. He knows you get that fucking wet for him, just like you do.

"Cum on my cock again, doll," he grunts. "Fucking soak me."

Just as you let out a squeal, a "yes, Daddy", Jake pulls the trigger at the back of you. You spray your release over him, ruining his couch with your juices. He cums so fucking hard he sees stars, his vision goes blurry at the side.

It takes him a moment to get a clear head again, for feeling to return to his limbs. He wipes you down the towel he had underneath him. Gently, he cleans up the cum leaking out of your hole and the mess on his lap. He puts you to bed carefully, promises he'll be back soon.

He bundles up the towel, the blanket and some dirty socks and heads down to the basement laundry to clean up from your love making.

"Hey, 4C," you smile at him, a basket tucked under your arm. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"You can just call me, Jake," he grins.

#sloth asks #nonnie #jake jensen #jake jensen smut #dark!jake jensen #jake jensen x fem!reader #jake jensen x reader #dark fic

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foxgloveprincess · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: Love has finally found you.

Word Count: 1,837

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: UnBeta’d, Dark, Kidnapping, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Kidnapping, implied Cyberstalking, Relationships, slightly Confined Spaces, Pet Names (angel, baby, etc.). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Jake is finally ready for his angel. I hope you enjoy! Happy Fourth and Final Sunday of Attic Wives Advent! ❄️🎉🍾🙌🏻

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

You hated the bright flashes of the cameras on the whatever-the-latest-color carpet your agent made you walk down. Feeling like an animal in a cage. Smiling until your cheeks hurt and not able to let it drop for one brief moment of reprieve.

“We’re almost to the end,” Mickey whispers in your ear.

A genuine smile threatens to eclipse your perfectly composed one. You lean closer and whisper back a quiet, “Promise?”

He chuckles and plays up your embrace for the cameras. With a hum, he kisses your cheek, letting his face linger there for a nice intimate shot. Your heart flutters in you chest. The photographers eat it up with a cry of both your names.

“I promise, babe,” he replies with one last tender peck.

You give an affectionate squeeze around his waist and turn back to the carpet. A couple steps, a hundred photos. Another carefully placed spot, a few hundred more snapped. On and on until you get to the interviews. With reluctance, you let your agent separate you from Mickey’s side and turn to the cheery reporter in front of you.

“Cara Lonquist with Entertainment Avenue,” she introduces herself.

You smile and step forward, locking your fingers together to keep from fidgeting. Despite never quite acclimating to such keen attention, a deep breath prepares you for her questions.

Most fish for spoilers from the movie or upcoming projects. You answer each with the coy script you’ve practiced with the P.R. team. Then she asks, “Did I see you walking the carpet with someone?”

You blink a moment, caught off-guard by the pivot in conversation. Of course, you expected it, prepared for it. You duck your chin and press a hand to your heating cheek. “You did.”

The reporter coos and steps closer, chomping at the bit for the scoop you’re about to drop in her lap.

“Let’s just say,” you pause a minute to think, coquettish in your performed divulgence. “There’s a very special man in my life, and leave it at that.”

“A special man?” a voice teases from behind. Arms wrap about your waist and Mickey presses up behind you. The tension in your shoulders eases and you lean into his embrace. “Don’t make me jealous.”

The reporter makes a sound high in her throat and keeps the microphone shoved in your faces. Her eyes glance to her cameraman, and he returns a not so subtle thumbs up. You swallow a giggle and turn back to your beau.

“Oh yeah,” you tease in return, twisting away from the camera, “he’s everything to me.” But looking into Mickey’s cool blue eyes, you melt. It feels good to finally go public with the romance that’s bloomed between the two of you. Never have you been so happy.

Nor has a man thousands of miles away, his gaze locked on the screen, knowing you’re talking about him.

You awaken slowly, head groggy and body sore all over. Scratching an itch on your chest, your fingers meet lace. You look down to see an unfamiliar set of frilly white lingerie—something you’d never wear on your best day. The cropped camisole provides little support for your bust. Scalloped lace trims the edges, from the low-cut neckline to the fluttery straps. The bottom bloomers bear the same lace around the high waist and each leg hole. Both pieces just sheer enough that you’re exposed.

You smooth your hands over the soft cotton and sit up fully to examine the rest of your body. It’s more than just aches. A cast wraps around your right leg up to your knee. A brace sits on your left wrist. You grimace and try to roll the joint. It twinges with pain. A yelp escapes your lips and you cradle your hand to your chest. At least you’re all in one piece—wherever you are.

Looking around at the room you occupy, you see nothing familiar. A sloped roof with a delicate chandelier shining soft light across the small space. The bed you occupy crammed into a small nook. Lace and frills and faux fur cover each pillow around you. A delicate canopy drapes from overhead, tied off to the side with pristine white bows. Gossamer fabric hanging off to the side on a curtain rod barely conceals a toilet, tub, and sink. A scattered lamp or two, dim in their light. There’s very little else to the space. No windows. No doors.

“Where am I?” you whisper to no one in particular.

“I can answer that,” a voice booms over speakers you can’t see.

A flabbergasted, “What?” whooshes out of you on a breath.

“Are you comfortable?” the voice asks. It’s masculine, concerned, even tender in its delivery. Though the volume may be high, the voice isn’t coarse or agitated.

Your head shakes, rattling around all the thoughts that puzzle over your predicament.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, an urgency to his tone. The lights brighten from their dimmed setting. You raise a hand to shield your slowly adjusting eyes. But you say nothing. “It’s okay, angel, you can tell me.”

“Where am I?” you repeat looking for the camera he’s sure to have trained on you. “What’s going on?” Your voice threatens to shake as your situation settles around you and awareness blooms. This is not a joke, this is not a prank. You keep your cool as best you can, taking your cue from scripts and episodes of crime dramas. Struggling and screaming never did those girls any good. Smarts did.

“You’re home, baby,” he says. You swallow hard at the joy that exudes from those three words. Even in the silence that follows, you can hear the buzz of his anticipation.

“But where is home?” you ask, forcing out the words that stick in your throat.

“Oh, uh,” he pauses. Tapping and mumbles follow. Like somehow he’s nervous. “I, uh, don’t think I should tell you that.”

You dip your head in disappointment. He seemed friendly enough. He might slip up or give you a window of opportunity or be malleable enough for you to coax your way to safety.

You think hard for the next question before asking, “Do I get to know your name?”

“I guess we never got formally introduced,” he responds. More confusion adds to the pile—what does he mean by that? Had you met this man before? “My name’s Jake.”

“Jake,” you repeat with a tremble to the word. You clear your throat and let yourself pretend you’re on a set. Summoning your skills for your survival. “I’m glad to meet you again, Jake.” You let a small, wobbly smile stretch your lips as you look toward the general direction of one of the speakers—you hope.

The lights brighten with a flash before dimming to their previous mood lighting. All too familiar, reminding you of the paparazzi.

“I knew it,” he crows with joy. “I knew you’d remember me. It was so brief on the street, but we connected. You felt it too, didn’t you?”

Your mind races. He’d bumped into you. On what street? When? How many others had done the same—too many. How were you supposed to remember him out of all of them?

But you say, “Of course.” Though your voice quivers and your whole mouth dries, you lick your lips and continue with trepidation fluttering in your stomach. “You seemed…sweet?”

“Sweet?”

Your heart jumps at his tone, unable to decipher his reception of the term without a look at his face. But a dreamy sigh drifts through the speakers.

“That’s exactly what you said before. God, you really are an angel.”

You chuckle, an uneasy laugh meant to sound like a girlish giggle. At least his delusion seems to blind him to the discomfort slipping through the cracks. You glance around the room, a sinking feeling in your gut.

“Am I going to stay here?” you ask.

“Of course,” Jake replies, chirpy and affectionate. “You know how it’s been. Keeping this to ourselves for so long, being apart.” He sighs again and you hear a faint scratching through the speaker. “I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve been lonely.” He pauses and part of you almost feels sorry for him—almost. When he speaks again, though, that fleeting sympathy vanishes. “But now you’re really mine and I don’t have to share.”

“Share?” you wonder out loud. The implication doesn’t evade you, and your mind jumps to escape, the outside world, your commitments. “I’ve signed some contracts for upcoming films. They’ll expect me to show up on set. Or what about my agent? My family?” Your fingers fidget with the blanket draped over your waist. “Where do they think I am? They must be missing me by now. I had a meeting with public relations.…” you trail off, dread filling you up to the brim. “What about Mickey? God, he must be so worried.”

“Oh,” he voices with a strange lilt of sympathy. “Well, you see, the thing is…”

A television screen turns on in the corner. You didn’t notice that before in your brief perusal of the space. Your eyes squint at the bright light and watch. News coverage of an accident plays. A mangled car—a black SUV—flames on the side of a hill. Firefighters work to put out the fire with EMTs quickly packing up their equipment and speeding off. Your head tilts. What about it? Then your ears focus on the reporter’s statement.

“…actor most known for her role in Sanctified. No statement has been issued by the first responders as to her condition, but witnesses speculate that it may be dire. One witness even asserted that all he saw were charred remains when she was pulled from the wreckage…”

“That was almost two days ago,” Jake says, speaking over the story. “I recorded it for you to see.”

You blink. Images of a blaring horn and shattered glass. But no fire. You remember the driver, a younger man with a bright smile and overflowing enthusiasm—was his name Justin? He’d been pressed against the wheel and pinned in place. His voice echoes in your ear—the timbre and insistence—but you can’t remember exactly what he said.

“They announced your death yesterday on the 6 o’clock news,” he continues to explain with pride. “I think we did pretty good, and now no one will wonder where you are.”

“We?” you ask, still struggling to get through your shock.

He huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I have a friend that helped out. It was his idea—the way it went down.” You drag a shuddering breath into your lungs. “Do you like how we did it?” There’s those nerves again. His voice tentative.

You swallow down bile and blink a few times in an attempt to clear your head. “Yes,” you reply. “It was very creative.” You clear your throat and breathe deep. “And now I’m all yours.” It whooshes out of you like defeat.

“All mine,” he echoes in delight.

#jake jensen x reader #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen fanfic #dark #dark fic #kidnapping #tw kidnapping #yandere vibes #18+#minors dni

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navybrat817 · 2 years

Text

Hello, lovelies! As a working mom and writer, I often fall behind on reading and reblogging fics from fellow writers. I decided to take part in the Stardust Reblog Challenge put together by @natrace as a small step to change that! My goal is to reblog one fic a day between September 1st and December 31st, hopefully more! Below are the fics shared and will feature Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans characters (for now). Show these writers some love and please heed any warnings provided. Enjoy!

Moodboard by yours truly and dividers by the talented @saradika.

September Fics

9/1 - It Had to Be You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @s-tarksintern

9/2 - Plan B (Dark!Ari Levinson x Reader, Dark!Andy Barber) by @slyyywriting

Happy Birthday Doll (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @secretswiftymarvelfan

9/3 - Truth Conquers All - Part 1 (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @yarnforbrains

9/4 - Waiting for This (Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader) by @musingsinmoonlight

9/5 - You Really Wanna Do This Now? (Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @luxeavenger

Lap Time (Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @tumblin-theworldaway

9/6 - Infinity (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

9/7 - Chaleur (Pre-serum!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @moonstruckbucky

9/8 - Monster (Bucky Barnes one-shot) by @moonbeambucky

9/9 - Comfort (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @jewels2876

9/10 - Drunk Or Baby (Andy Barber x Reader) by @fictional-affairs

9/11 - Baker's Dozen (Dark!Steve Rogers x Black!Reader) by @boxofbonesfic

9/12 - Dangerous Dance (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @princessmisery666

9/13 - Hands (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @qu1etwolf

9/14 - Cold Little Paws (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @majestyeverlasting

9/15 - Fingers (Tattoo!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @buckycuddlebuddy

9/16 - Spooky Season (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

9/17 - Into This World, We're Thrown (Steve Kemp x Reader) by @onceuponastory

Lee Bodecker in the Fall (Lee Bodecker x Reader) by @treatbuckywkisses

Blind as a Bat (Jake Jensen x Reader) by @pagesoflauren

9/18 - Sleepy (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @sweetdreamsbuck

Prism (Robert Pronge x Reader) by @needleandhammer

9/19 - Playing For Keeps (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @tuiccim

Narcissist (Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @chrissquares

9/20 - Boring, Boring, Boring (Lloyd Hansen x Dark!Reader) by @rustytricycle

9/21 - A Gentleman in the Streets (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @christywantspizza

9/22 - Love by Moonlight (Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader) by @strangeprincex-writes

9/23 - Down a Rabbit Hole (Dark!Jefferson x Reader) by @sgt-seabass

9/24 - Happy Ending (Steve Rogers x Mutant!Reader) by @nekoannie-chan

9/25 - Once Upon a Blue Moon - Part 1 (Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader) by @sagechanoafterdark

9/26 - Hold Me Please? (Stucky x Reader) @doasyoudesireandlive

9/27 - Personal Project (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @slothspaghettiwrites

9/28 - Autumn Remembered (Ari Levinson x Reader x Andy Barber) by @wayward-blonde

Soft Ransom (Ransom Drysdale x Asian!Reader) by @brandycranby

Disarmed (Jake Jensen x Reader) by @ghotifishreads

9/29 - Would I Lie to You? (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @cockslutpadalecki

9/30 - Dirty Dishes (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @jen-with-a-pen

Parade (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @rodrikstark

Possession (Lloyd Hansen x Black!Reader) by @xsapphirescrollsx

October Fics

10/1 - Who's Your Daddy? (Destroyer!Chris x Reader) by @emerald-chaos

10/2 - In the Weeds (Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

10/3 - Meet Your Match (Dark Serial Killer!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @dreamlessinparis

10/4 - Make a Wish (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @sweeterthanthis

10/5 - Post Break Up (Hal Carter x Reader) by @writing-what-writing

10/6 - Unwell (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @msmarvelwrites

10/7 - Watching Your Footsteps (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @lokislastlove

10/8 - Abduction (Curtis Everett x Reader) by @georgiapeach30513

10/9 - Rogers Family Recipe (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Enchant (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

10/10 - I.O.U. (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

10/11 - A Whittle More Practice (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Dance in the Dark (Ghost!Steve Rogers x Asian!Reader)

10/12 - Meeting GiGi (Steve Rogers x Reader)

10/13 - See What You Do to Me? (Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader)

The Things You Do (Steve Rogers x Reader)

November Fics

December Fics

December Masterlist

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Text

A Sin For A Sin

Summary: you told Lloyd what would happen if he cheated on you.

Pairings: Jake Jensen X Reader, Jake Jensen X Reader X Lloyd Hansen

Rating: explicit

Warnings: cheating, alcohol consumption, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, voyeurism, double penetration, degradation, praise kink, size kink, spitting, implied basement wife, creampie, somnophilia, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.4K

Lloyd Hansen Masterlist

A/N: For @iamesca who had the brilliant idea to pair Lloyd and Jake together 🫠😮‍💨😮‍💨

Your finger runs around the rim of your shot glass. The haggard sound of a lonely man terribly singing an annoying country song. Hiccuping and crying through the lyrics. The smokey atmosphere, and the whiskey running through your veins, making your heart feel a dull pain instead.

All you want it to forget. You don’t want that vision of him with her, and in your bed. With a tap on the bar, the cheerful bartender walks over to fill your cup again. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here listening to this shit?”

You barely give him a smile, throwing back the dark liquor, before slamming it back on the bar, “Another.”

His eyes on you as he pours the stout drink. Somehow stopping perfectly. Your eyes finally roam over his body. Making a trail up and down him. His arms corded with sinewed muscles. His shirt hanging a bit loose. One look at the boyish cargo shorts, and you ask him for another.

“You gonna tell me, why you’re here without your husband?” he gives a quick nod to your ring finger, and you shrug, taking the useless metal off to drop on the bar. “Another shot?”

“Yeah,” he reaches behind the bar to grab his own glass, pouring himself one as well.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks, taking of sip of the liquor and grimacing. Hissing through his teeth, while he shakes his head in disgust. You can’t help but to laugh at him, drinking your own slowly. Savoring the smooth smokey flavor, and relishing in the slight burn.

“You’ve had like five shots now. Your mouth is numb to this.”

“Did you see me act like that with my first one?” his face falls flat, placing his head on his hips. Sullen that you could take it and he couldn’t. “What would you prefer to drink?”

“Beer,” he scrunches his face up when a new man starts singing a heartbreak song. “Let me shut this down. It’s past closing time. Stay here,” he announces how it’s last call, and then the bar is closing. This baby blues still drifting over to you, making sure you’re not going anywhere.

Upon returning, he grabs up a beer, to drink. Those eyes on your wedding band on the dark wood. “I went home to find him in bed with another woman,” you inform him. Your phone vibrating in your pocket, and you don’t have to look to know it’s Lloyd.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t even know how he found another woman. He’s an asshole to everyone,” you watch as the bartender’s fists clench tight, and feel a rush of slick pool in your cunt. You had been getting worked up already, but the fierce need to protect you, really did you in.

“Except to me,” you slowly add in, and his stance relaxes. “At least that’s what I thought.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Three years. Together five. You know the bad thing? I didn’t say anything. Neither of them saw me, I just left,” your pocket vibrates again, and still you choose to ignore it.

“What’s you’re story, Mister…?”

“Ew, Jake will be fine. Mister, blech,” he mocks retching. Waiting on the patrons to leave, and he locks up the bar. “Retired from the army. I’m a dead man, literally, I’m not supposed to be alive. It was all fake. So I’m here. People are interesting.”

Biting his lip, his eyes roam over your figure. Watching every soft dip and curve of your body. Even your smell is more intoxicating to him than the booze. Love drunk, and he knows he shouldn’t feel this way.

“You know, I always told Lloyd if I ever caught him with another woman, I’d find myself another man to lay under,” Jake gulps, pushing his glasses up further on his nose, but still leans forward on the bar. “You know anyone?”

“I-I-I could possibly know someone,” with each word, your fingers undo a button on your dress, until he’s nearly drooling on the bar.

“Who did you have in mind, soldier?”

“Oh fuck,” his voice nervously responds when you let your dress drop to the ground. Undoing your bra, he bites his fist when your tits bounce free. “I can’t take you somewhere looking like that.”

Shimmying out of your panties, you hold them out for him to take, before climbing onto the bar. Leaning back so he can fully view your weeping cunt. “Who said anything about going somewhere? You want me to lean over the bar, or are you joining me up here?” you ask starting to finger yourself.

Jake speedily undresses himself, and you let out a whimper when that veiny cock bounces up. His spongy tip red with a pretty bead of precum at his slit. A thick vein running down the side. Pulsing and aching. Not as long as Lloyd’s cock, but with extra girth at his base, and you know you’re going to enjoy the painful stretch at your entrance.

Jumping up on the bar, and clambering over to you, he runs his hand through your glistening folds, “You’re soaked,” he laments. Humming at just how wet you are.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He gives a boyish grin and shrug, “Just wanted to make sure you could take me. It might be a tight fit if you weren’t prepped.”

“It’s going to be a tight fit anyways. Fuck me,” using your fingers, you spread your pussy lips, and show him your tight channel. Letting him see how your walls are needy and clench around nothing. Whining at him to just fuck you.

Gently Jake settles in between your thighs to line up to your quivering pussy. His breathing heavy and laborious. Wrapping your hands around his ass, you pull him down to you. A shaky moan escapes your lips, when his blunt tip pushes through.

Jake is too methodical, too slow for fucking. But your thankful for how slowly he sinks into you. Panting as his cock pushes through your quivering cunt, and just the way he watches you stretch around him. Studying the way your spongy pussy takes every bit of him. Sinking down to the root, and you whine with how perfectly full he makes you feel.

He drags his length out slowly, almost completely pulling out, before he shoves into you harshly. Loving how your body responds to him. Your greedy pussy needing him to destroy her. Throbbing and hungry for a beating.

Jake gives you a tender kiss, his eyes looking at you questioningly, “I can handle it. Please, fuck me dumb,” with your confirmation he ruts into you with a demanding force, but you and your cunt want more. Sucking him back in deeper each time, and becoming addicted to his pretty sounds.

Jake’s moans eager and determined for more each time. Your bodies scooting across the bar. And when he sees your tits jerk around with his force, he gets even harder. Feeling like his dick grows an inch, when his tip kisses your cervix.

A pleasured pain that you welcome even more. Forgetting about your husband, and just living in the moment with his boyish charm, but hard purposeful thrusts have you seeing stars. He looks towards the door and windows, and gives you a devilish smirk. “If anyone walks by, they’ll see you becoming a dumb fuckdoll every time I punch into you. Where do you feel me?”

A rub on your lower belly, he looks at the bulge, that bubbles up with every stab into you. “Fucking hell, you feel me in your belly, huh? You just needed to be fucked hard and deep. You want for someone to see us?”

“Uh huh,” you pant, tweaking your nipples. Your tits have a steady rhythm of ripples causing Jake to slam into you harder.

“What about if he sees you?” Jake smirks, beginning to jackhammer into you. “Want him to see you become a desperate little slut? Ready to fuck the first man who listened to her.”

“Fuck him,” Jake smiles so big, you see his dimples, making him look even younger than he already did.

“How about you fuck me?” the two of you giggle as he struggles to get the two of you twisted and turned around. Settling back down, you ride on top of him. His fingers dig into your hips, as he shoves you down to take every last inch of him.

Eyes closed, you scream pleasured prayers up to the gods, only barely slowing down. Playing with your nipples, gets your hands pushed off of you, while he lifts up to suck on the pebbled peak. Feeling amazing and light as air when you feel the second mouth, suck on your other tit.

Opening up your eyes, you see both Lloyd and Jake gazing up at you. “What the fuck?” you ask, stopping your movements.

Lloyd pulls his mouth off you with a pop, giving your nipple a few kitten licks before looking at you.

“How does she feel?”

“She may try to deny this, but her pussy has got me in a vice grip.”

“What the hell?” you try to move, but Jake holds you down on him.

“I wanna see what she looks like hugged up against you,” he lifts you up a bit for Lloyd to stare at where the two of you connect. “You’re such a fucking slut, you know that?”

“Y-you were in the bed with another woman,” you look at him confused, and he shrugs.

“Was I? Did you see her face? Jakey here has needed to get laid for quite some time. I owed him a favor. You’re the favor. Does it feel good, Sunshine?”

“Better than you,” reaching both his hands forward, he grips your nipples tightly. You whimper, trying to protest but Jake just laughs.

“There she goes again. You really are a slut.”

Lloyd starts ripping his clothes off before, climbing up behind you. Spitting a line of saliva down to your ass, and he gives your puckered hole a few rubs. Sinking two fingers past your rim, and you beg him to stop. “Oh you’re gonna take it. What feels good, usually hurts in the end, but with time, you’ll enjoy taking both our cocks, and our loads. You wanna be a slut, we’ll treat you like one. Have you leaking of both of us, and walking funny.”

“Our pretty little cumslut. Just gonna fuck you to sleep. And when you wake up,” Jake purrs up at you, letting Lloyd readjust himself when he pulls his fingers out of your virgin hole.

Your head turns back to look at him, saline trails drifting down your cheeks. But with a swipe of his tongue, Lloyd licks them up, before spitting back on your muscled tunnel.

Jake snaps his fingers trying to quit your whining, getting you to look back at him. When it doesn’t work, he slaps on your tit, causing you to yelp, turning to look at him. “When you wake up from being absolutely destroyed, we’ll fuck you back to sleep.”

“Hell,” Lloyd grunts, guiding his dick to your ass, pushing through harshly, and laughing when you sob, needing to rest your head on Jake’s chest. “We’re not going to wait until you wake up. When we want to fuck you, we will. And you,” his voice turns into a strained moan, when he shoves his cock all the way through your throbbing hole.

The three of you a sea of weak sighs, guttural moans, and desperate whimpers. Your body overcome with a pleasured pain of being stuffed so full. “Jake, calm your shit, I feel your cock twitching, you fucking dweeb.”

“I can’t help it. Her cunt is squeezing the life out of me. Relax,” he coos, smoothly running up your thighs. “Breath, and relax. You’re taking us so well. Got you stretched over two fat cocks, and you can’t think, can you?” you don’t answer, your lip just trembles, he gives your tit a sweet kiss, before a gentle nibble.

“Poor baby. Our little slutty baby is at a loss for words. You’re doing so good princess. Each time will get easier. Maybe next time we just spit roast you, huh?”

Lloyd finally pulls out, and begins fucking you. Letting Jake just fill your hole, while he destroys you in a way he’s always wanted. “Need something in her mouth,” Jake places his fingers into your mouth, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Overwhelmed with pleasure and fullness. “We’ll have to plan better next time,” he grunts out.

“Remember you told me your fantasy. Wanted me and a few others to use you, own your body, and do whatever we wanted? Surprise, Princess. I plan on it. Every fucking day, I plan on using you. Maybe even watch you get used. Fuuuck this feels so fucking good,” he leans his head back, shaking it from side to side. Barreling into you with such purpose.

“Opp!” Jake shouts, when your head droops forward. Literally fucked out when you loose consciousness. “There she goes,” removing his hand, your salvia drips down into his chest.

Lloyd holds your body up a bit more, so Jake can fuck up in you. The two of them pushing and pulling into your heat like their lives depended on it. Fucking into you with a mixture of malice and love. Taking what they came here for. Jake is the first to bust a nut. Spurting deep inside your belly, and even passed out you moan at the added warmth.

Lloyd jackhammers into you, racing for that shocking high. Gritting his teeth, until it becomes too much. Blowing his load, and he pulls out, just to watch the sloppy mess drip out of you, flowing all the way down to Jake. “Oh, I’m gonna love this.”

Jake twists your passed out body to lay on the bar, gathering up everyone’s cum, he shoves it into your mouth.

“Look at how needy she is,” his voice filling back up with a lustful desire to fuck you again, when your lips wrap around his fingers. Sucking off their spend.

“I told you she was a slut for my cock.”

“Looks like she likes mine, too. Here baby,” straddling your head, his softening cock rubs over your lips, and you still want more. With a gasp for air, he pushes past your lips, “Cockslut. You sure two is enough?”

“Let’s get her comfortably stretched out first.”

“She really thought you cheated on her.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be able to get her to agree to this without it,” Lloyd shrugs. “She’s still thinks she chose to be my wife,” he lets out a wicked laugh at Jake. “Pick her up. Let’s put her back in her gilded cage, that she calls a bedroom.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @thedarkplume @duuhrayliegh @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands @harrysthiccthighss @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @sstan-hoe @iamesca @bambamwolf87 @whimsyplaty92

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