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babyjakes · 5 months

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lock them out and throw a feast.

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event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | food play

pairing | soft!dark!curtis everett x front-ender!reader

warnings | soft!dark!curtis. non-con. crying. restraints. use of gag. fingering. minimal dialogue (curtis is a quiet guy.) oral (f receiving) with plenty of clit focus. messy food play (a whole bakery's worth of sweets.) forced orgasm. squirting. implied multiple (forced) orgasms. written in 3rd person for some reason. showered!curtis :D

word count | 1,698

an | my snowpiercer knowledge is soooooo rusty i haven't watched the movie in years. this is kind of written in a universe where curtis and his rebellion were able to take over the engine. he picks out a pretty little front-ender as his reward and throws himself a feast... anyway, please ignore any details that might not align with the movie plot. this fic is dedicated to my sweet precious wonderful somny @onsunnyside, she isn't active much these days but of course i wanted to write her a kinkmas piece still, she is so special to me. and i know she loves curtis, so this felt like the perfect opportunity. love you, sonson<33 hope you're well and having happy holidays!

Everything was just the way he ordered it. An empty car all to himself, with both exits locked, dark curtains drawn. Lights dimmed, just bright enough to see through the stilled air. One shining down stronger than the rest in the center of the room, illuminating his long-awaited bounty. His final reward. His feast, fit for a king.

The moment he had laid eyes on her, cowering and weeping as her family's luxury quarters were broken into, he knew she was his endgame. He promised himself he'd have his way with her once he made it to the engine and overthrew the elite. Now that the hard work was done, it was time for him to revel in his victories. And there was no better way to do that, he had decided, than to feed the hunger that had been eating away at him for as long as he could remember.

He stood back in the shadows for the longest time, just taking in the glorious scene before him. Sucking in a strained breath, he pressed a tentative hand over the bulge in his pants. They were new; everything on him was. As his trusted second-in-commands were preparing his private car, Curtis had disappeared to care for himself and his body for the first time in seventeen years. He had a long, tedious shower, taking his time to remove nearly two decades of filth from his tattered body. Once he was clean, he had first choice from an entire car full of clothing- everything brand new. He remained modest with his choices. All the glitz and glam of the elite had no appeal to him.

Taking a step forward, he let his dark brown overcoat fall to the floor, leaving him in the simple gray t-shirt and utility trousers he had claimed earlier. Biting his lip, he pried his hand from his raging hard-on. He would relieve himself, in time. For now, he wanted to savor every moment he spent building up to that release.

Her quiet whimpers were the loudest thing in the room, accompanied by the low rumbling of the train's machinery in the background. Her crystalline tears only made her more beautiful, Curtis thought to himself. There was something so exquisite about her agonized expression; it didn't matter how wrong or cruel this was. He had given it all, risked his life for that damn train. This was his; he had earned it. He would allow himself that.

His men had done a fine job with the setup. She was as captivating as he had dreamt for all those years- no, she was better. Her body sprawled out elegantly over the smooth oak finish of the table below her, tied to the corners by her wrists and ankles, she was nothing more than a piece of meat to be feasted on, a meal to be devoured. And Curtis hadn't had a proper meal in years. The rest of the table's surface was covered in all the sweets and confectionaries his subordinates could find. Ripe fruits, delicate cakes and pastries, bowls of thick chocolates and creams- and to top it all off, his main course had been decorated lavishly to the likings of the delicacies surrounding her. Her most sensitive places had been drizzled and dipped, sprinkled and powdered, making her the most divine-looking creature the man had ever seen.

He took another step forward, surveying her as a vulture would its prey. Her dewy eyes peered up fearfully at him as he slowly approached the side of the table. Voice slightly hoarse from all her crying and struggling, she whined weakly through the thick cloth gag secured snugly between her chocolate-smeared lips.

"Shhhh," Curtis breathed out, the steadiness of his voice and posture such a stark contrast to the girl who lay weeping and bound before him. As he turned to make his way to the end of the table, her bare feet thrashed and kicked uselessly in protest. He simply shook his head at her pitiful displays of defiance. "No use fighting it, sweetheart," he hummed, his voice almost consoling in tone. "You're not going anywhere. Not until I get a good taste of what's mine."

With heedless, eager motions, the man cleared the portion of the table that sat between the girl's trembling legs. As mouth-watering as everything he was pushing aside appeared, his only focus was closing the space between him and the one thing he was truly starving for. Lowering his front down onto the now empty surface, Curtis' greedy eyes trailed up his victim's messy legs, finding the sacred point at which they joined. He drooled at the sight of her perfect cunt as it sat before him on display, dribbles of cream and what appeared to be nervous arousal collecting beneath her rounded ass.

"Mine," he repeated, this time nearing a growl. His rugged hands came up to squeeze at her soft, heavenly thighs, earning tiny squeaks of fear from the poor girl as she shook her head pleadingly- but it was no use. He had her before him now; nothing would come between him and his feast. "This body belongs to me now, angel. Do you understand?" He brought a hand up to push back her mound, exposing her swollen clit and leaky hole to his prying eyes. The confidence he was speaking with was impressive, given the fact that he'd never spoken to a woman like this in his life. But after all he'd lived through, he felt entitled to that sense of authority. He held her life in his hands, quite literally. And he sure as hell was ready to make the most of it.

"This pretty cunt-" he dared to take his words further, his other hand dragging a finger up through the streams of sugary icing coating her thighs to begin prodding at her tiny hole. "-is mine. All mine," he hummed, perfectly happy to be stating these truths to only himself, if his new possession was so insistent on denying them with her angry sobs and harsh glares. She would come around in time; he knew she would. She wouldn't have any choice in the matter.

His finger nudged and teased at the opening a bit more before gently dipping inside, the man's patience wearing thin. At the feeling of her tight, slippery walls doing everything in their power to fight off his intrusion, Curtis wasn't ashamed of the way his cock only grew harder from her unwillingness. He savored the distressed grunts and groans she let out as he forced his digit in up to a first knuckle, then a second. Turning his hand in a fluid motion, he began fucking his finger up into her, groaning lowly at the sight of her quickly growing increasingly responsive to his efforts.

Free-hand momentarily moving back to grab harshly at her hipbone, Curtis licked his lips as his gaze settled in on the tiny nub sitting at the top of the girl's messy slit. Bringing his thumb and pointer finger back down, he forcefully spread her upper lips apart, exposing her poor little button to the cool air of the room. Her legs kicked and struggled as he drew his face in closer, letting out a low groan as the bundle of nerves was finally taken between his parched lips.

The girl let out a howl through her gag, choking on her cries and spit as Curtis worked her aching clit. Closing his eyes, the man savored the feeling of the tiny bump twitching and trembling against his steady suckling. Letting go of any last hesitations, he submitted to eating her fresh cunt like a beast that'd been starved. He paid no mind to being gentle or polite as he latched onto her helpless core, delivering punishing waves of pain and pleasure well outside the realms of her wildest nightmares.

When his lips grew sore from sucking, he switched to dragging his tongue over the pulsating nub, starting with slow, teasing licks before switching to fast, merciless swipes in the blink of an eye. The alternating paces reduced his victim to softer sobs and hiccups, her hips bucking up wildly as her body struggled to tolerate the intense stimulation. And as soon as he'd had enough of the tongue work, he was back to nursing at the poor button, now so puffy and swollen from receiving his undivided attention.

As the girl's thighs shook, Curtis could see something shifting within her. The noises she let out were becoming more desperate, more panicked, with an expression of impending doom appearing on her tear-stained face. At the realization that she was being brought to orgasm against her will, the unrelenting hunger in Curtis' gut only rose. "That's it," he grumbled lowly, her sweet, sticky juices coating his reddened lips. "You're gonna come for me now, babydoll. Come on, give it to me," his face was hardening with determination, his finger thrusting more forcefully up into her fluttering walls as she hurled towards her climax at full speed.

The cry she let out as she finally came was the closest thing Curtis had ever heard to an angel on earth. As the incredible pressure in her tummy finally shattered, her poor clit spasmed helplessly in the man's awaiting mouth. A flood of sweetness sprayed against his scruffy facial hair as she squirted, the sight of her body coming helplessly against his efforts nearly too much for Curtis to bear. Groaning loudly, he coaxed her through the spectacular high. Only when her sobbing turned to weak sniffles did he finally pull away, his darkened eyes trailing up to find her tender face.

As he went to remove his digit from her soaking heat, he could've sworn she almost seemed to cling to him, in a way. He brought the creamy finger up to slip into his eager mouth, the sugary taste of her climax making his head pound with want.

His next words sent her into a fresh fit of tears. "One more," he decided, lowering his head back down to her sticky cunt. One more, he told himself, before he'd finally seek some relief of his own.

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imyourbratzdoll · 10 months

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I can't stop thinking about lumberjack Ari/Curtis that built a huge library for his wife reader 🥹

She always complain that she has too many books but no space for them, so he turns one of their spare room into a library for her, he also put a little fireplace and this room has a big window that overlooks his workplace, it has a space to sit too so she can watch his husband at work while she read

He put a couch with some cozy and soft pillows and some blankets, and when they'll have kids, she'll pit a rocking chair too, so she can read to their baby 🥹 but in the meantime she reads for him in the evening before they go to bed

-🌻

hello baby! I'm so so sorry for taking so long to get to this request! but I do hope you like what I have written.

summary - your husband built you a library, and it's a dream come true for you.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Curtis clears his throat, gaining your attention from the book in your hands. You look up at him with a soft smile, “Can you follow me, honey? I have something to show you.” His hands are behind his back as he gestures with his head. You nod and place a bookmark in your book before gently placing it down and standing from your seat. You walk toward him and interlock his hands with your own, following as he leads you through the house to the empty room that you haven’t decided what to do with it yet.

You look at him, confused, but he replies by opening the door, and a gasp falls from your lips. “Curtis?” You walk into the room and look around, shocked. He built you your very own library, which you drew up on a piece of paper once. You turn toward him with tears in your eyes, “You built me a library?”

He nods, holding his breath, hoping your reaction is good. “You are always talking about how you don’t have any more room for your books, and I thought this would be a good place to keep them, and for the future when we have kids….” You grin widely, walking over to him and wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

“I love it, Curtis. Thank you, this means a lot.” You lean up on your tippy toes and press your lips against his. You let go of him and walk over to the shelf, picking one of his favourite books and sitting on the comfy chair, patting the spot next to you. “Why don’t we practice for when we have kids?”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year

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Hi Ro😌❤️

comfort character ask：🛁？

A Nice Relaxing Bath, a Curtis Everett x reader fic

Summary: Your roommate's brother crashes at the apartment while he works in the area.

Pertinent info: not on a train! I went very overboard on the idea that Curtis is the sweetest man on the planet, and I am not ashamed.

Warning: this, uh, it got steamy. Literally. Smut-adjacent. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Minors, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist instead, but this one is not for you. WC 2.1k

“I’m fine.”

“You’re filthy,” you bite back as your roommate’s brother peels off his dingy coat in your living room. “You should take the bath.”

Curtis waves you off weakly. “No need. I’ll shower after you’re done…or in the morning.”

He lays a bed sheet over the couch, dead tired and mentally vacant.

“There won’t be enough hot water.” You had no idea when he’d be coming in. He was supposed to arrive last night but got so delayed he drove in this morning, heading straight to his job site instead of dropping his things off first. That was twelve hours ago.

You’re well aware of how exhausting shifts like that can be from your time at the hospital.

“Then morning it is,” Curtis huffs.

“My couch will smell bad far longer than you will. Please—“ you point to the bathroom, wearing only your towel “—it’s all yours.”

Your guest shakes his head and pulls off his beanie. “I’m serious. I’m too tired.”

You shrug. “I promise you’ll feel like a million bucks after and sleep like a baby.”

Perhaps the smell of lavender wafting from the washroom entices him, or perhaps he finally catches a whiff of himself, but Curtis stands and walks all the way over, stopping a few inches in front of you.

He smirks.

“Promises, promises…” he drawls, side-stepping into the bathroom.

From force of habit, you always quickly shower after a shift, but you weren’t expecting the doorbell to ring or Curtis to announce his arrival. Now that you’ve checked your phone, after sifting through your bag discarded immediately onto the other side of your bed, you see a text from his sister…from half an hour ago, saying he’s on his way.

You can’t very well hand him the towel against your skin currently. You’ll need to get him something fresh.

You throw on a t-shirt and shorts before rummaging in the linen closet for the spares. Just as you’re about to knock on the door to hand them over, you hear grunting and hissing, not from the water. There’s a muttered curse that sounds very pained.

“Curtis?” you call.

He only takes one step, meaning he was not close to the bathtub yet, and cracks open the door. He hides most of his body behind it, except you see his left shoulder. Purple and brown bruises litter the joint.

“Jesus, buddy!” You can’t help it. Against his pale skin, any trauma would look serious.

“It’s fine. Those for me?”

You don’t move.

“Can you even lift that arm, Curtle?”

His nose scrunches in distaste of his childhood nickname, shoving a hand out. “I said it’s fine. You giving me the towels or not?”

Every effort behind every word drains a little more life from Curtis’s eyes and voice. It’s like watching someone scrape the last shrivels of food from a to-go container—pathetic and sad.

You press the linens to your own chest.

“Let me help you.”

“You’re not bathing me,” he scoffs.

“I’m a nurse. Please. It’s not anything I haven’t seen before.”

Curtis glances back inside the bathroom as if searching for answers elsewhere, but when he turns to let his sky-blue eyes meet yours, he neither fights nor flees.

“Hey now,” you soothe. “I’ve lived here two years. I can fake your sister’s tone like you would not believe. Don’t make me use the voice.”

One corner of his mouth ticks up beneath his dark beard.

“Fine, but this was your idea and I’m not getting yelled at later for being a creep, ya hear?”

“Got it,” you nod, closing the door behind you once he lets you in.

He turns around to unbuckle his belt and pull down his bottoms. More and more bruising is visible with every inch exposed, some yellow and old, some nearly bleeding out the surface. There’s a line of dirt and grime along his neck where his shirt blocked the soot. You set the stack of towels on the closed toilet and reach to help him in, avoiding looking by professional default.

This is pretty much exactly what you do all day, but most of your patients would be sponge baths. In fact, Curtis will be easier because he has all his faculties, use of all his limbs, and doesn’t need help washing anything below the waist. He’s just too beat up and tired to lift his arms much.

“Holy fuck, that’s hot.” He winces and curls the dipped toes away from the water again, but once you move to start the tap and add cold, he grips your hand harder. “No, no. Don’t. I’ll get used to it. Just gimme a sec.”

Somehow, spending the time holding a six-foot man upright in the humid, aromatic air is just as relaxing as if you were submerged yourself, so you wait while his toes, feet, ankles, legs, and finally, butt are all acclimated before lathering a washcloth. The loofah would be too harsh across the bruises.

“Back first and then I’ll leave you to soak?”

Curtis doesn’t really answer. He simply leans forward and tilts his head down.

He moans involuntarily when you splash water over the whole area and tenses when you graze his sides.

He’s ticklish, so you poke him only one more time for fun and then start scrubbing at his neck.

As you finish up the broad expanse of his back, though he’s a little skinny considering his frame, you fold over the cloth and hand it to him.

“You wanna get your face?”

He sweeps it back and forth a few times and then splashes. You can see that he’s not clean.

“Fine. I’ll do that, too,” you grumble without real ire and plop forward onto your ass, reaching out both hands once you soap them up.

He holds his eyes closed while you circle over his forehead and cheeks, stares while you scrub into his beard, and laughs when you use the grip of your thumbs to pull him into a joker grin.

That earns you a playful splash. Curtis is still chuckling as he rinses the soap off his face, leaving a fresh hole in the thick layer of bubbles. His eyelashes are so long he has to squish water out of them before he can see you again, then he looks sad as he smiles.

“I’m sorry I stole your bath.”

Worth it, you think. “Can’t steal what’s given freely.”

“Or you could…” Curtis shuffles his hips “…join me?”

“The tub is not that big.”

His eyebrow quirks, intrigued by the challenge. “Bet we can make it fit.”

“That’s what she said,” you burst, grinning.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean…not like that.” He’s so cute when he laughs.

As adorable and tempting as the offer is, you still state the obvious. “Buddy, you’re naked.”

“I can keep my hands to myself. Promise.”

“Promises, promises,” you tsk in retort.

Curtis mountains a pile of bubbles to show how covered you’d still be, laying the washcloth over his lap as a barrier. “Better decide before the water gets too cold.”

You let out a long sigh.

Though you’re clean enough anyway, your legs ache from a long day on your feet, and it would be nice to release that tension from the muscles.

You toss a second washcloth over his face.

“No peaking, bub!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles, letting the fabric trap in his mouth for emphasis.

It’s comical to order him around—move this leg, that foot can’t be flat, scoot all the way back, etc—but once successfully sandwiched between his thighs you tell him to keep his eyes closed and take away the cloth to use as a kind of tube top.

“Need me to get back here?” he offers.

“Nah,” you say shaking your head, “just wanted the heat on my legs.”

Curtis sinks into the tub and molds himself to the tile wall behind him. “Sure feels good after a long day.”

You two compare the long hours you’ve worked today, the day before, and the day before that, and it turns into a tie for who is the saddest over-achiever.

“You can lean on me,” he whispers. “Come on, relax, honey. You’ve earned it, too.”

So you do.

You tuck your head right beneath Curtis’s chin, the roughness of his beard catching gently in your hair, careful not to put weight directly on his bruises.

You both quickly fall into that almost-dream state, the kind where time doesn’t exist between eye blinks, rising and dipping with his breaths, soaking in more than just the comfort of the bath.

It feels like hours—or maybe just an instant later—that the water feels just shy of lukewarm. Your fingers are pruney. The bubbles are gone.

Who knows what kicks you out of your peaceful reverie, but Curtis jolts when you do, wrapping his arms around you.

“S—sorry,” he stutters. A few fingers land against your washcloth top and tug reflexively.

You tilt your head to assure him you’re okay only to find his gaze locked farther forward. Your knees are bent to fit in the tub, and with your legs splayed this way, without the cover of bubbles, you’re exposed to him

Curtis stays quiet while you feel his breath hitch beneath your back. His fingers scratch over your belly gently until finally—

“You’re so soft,” he says reverently, gratefully, as if handed a present not on his birthday.

Gently, careful not to hurt him, you turn around.

His eyes are wide and questioning but don’t falter from your attention even when the washcloth topples from your breast. His lips fall apart, waiting for your choice, but all over his features is written how much he wants you.

Has that look ever been there before? Did you simply not notice?

“Sis is gonna be mad,” he mutters, swallowing loudly while you shift to your knees in the water.

You inch closer and closer, mouth brushing his. “Why?”

“Because,” he confesses, “she told me not to touch you.”

“When did she tell you that?”

Of course, you want to kiss him, but it’s quite fun to see him almost tremor with anticipation.

Curtis’s eyes find yours. “The day I moved her in.”

His warm breath dances with yours, tongue darting across his bottom lip.

“Well then…” You lift one leg at a time to coax his together, straddling his lap. “Don’t touch me. Just let me touch you.”

You’re not sure which movement garners the moan he lets rip through his chest, your mouths finally meeting or you wiggling to get comfy. Both continue. So do the moans.

The tented, sopping washcloth is tossed with a squelch to the floor as he hardens between your thighs, but each second is relished, each ounce of energy pried from your reserves.

The kisses are slow and sweet, long and dragged out like the lazy rocking of your hips.

At first, he really doesn’t touch you, his hands grip and slip along the smooth rim of the tub until you feel his fingers graze your sides. Curtis is trying to tickle you in some sick revenge. It leaves you both smiling even while you take his wrists and force his hold lower.

“Can’t seem to keep your promises, big guy.”

“I’m a rebel,” he jokes with a smile, grabbing your ass to help you move, “and this is a good cause.”

You’re so tired, and this is so perfect. No frantic movements make for a soft tide in the bath water, ebbing and flowing without breaching the ceramic edge, yet it’s enough to build a current strong enough that you both come, mumbling cursing and praises to each other.

“I don’t think you’re any cleaner than when we started,” you say, nuzzling the fading scruff of beard down his throat. As you recover with panting breaths, his cum washes away from his abs, diluted in the residual rhythm of the water. “Maybe a brisk rinse?”

Curtis’s eyes stay shut for most of the short shower.

He lets you lead him around to whatever angle is best and holds you for warmth when the chill gets into your bones briefly. The shock is refreshing though.

Inside a cocoon of plush towels, his sleepy, happy eyes find yours, and he pulls the wrap tighter around your bodies.

“You kept your promise,” he chuckles. “I do feel like a million bucks, and I absolutely will sleep like a baby.”

You beam in his embrace, soft trapped in strong.

“My bed is comfier than the couch,” you offer.

Curtis leans more of his weight onto you and sighs.

“Honey, you’re the comfiest thing anywhere.”

from this game of "Comfort My Characters"

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Uuuuuuuugh, guys, this was difficult to write because I wouldn't stop swooning the entire time. Just let me wash the dirty man. Let me snuggle him in the tub and fall asleep to the sound of bursting bubbles 😭 I can't handle the sweetness!!!

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish (sry, you guys are probably sick of being tagged so much, let me know if it's too annoying plz)

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett smut #curtis everett fluff #curtis everett fic #curtis everett one shot #curtis everett au

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thornsnvultures · 2 years

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open up ♧

Curtis Everett x Thor Odinson x fem!Reader

Summary: The team up no one saw coming! Except now they're coming on you! And by "you" I mean @fineanddandy cause I wrote this for her 3k/35th birthday celebration 🖤🖤🖤 😘😘😘

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: threesome, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, choking kink, breathplay, dacraphilia, pet names (sweetheart, pet), degradation kink, vaginal sex (unprotected, creampie), cum eating, anal play, spanking

a/n: holy shit it was so hard getting this out. I hit writers block so fucking hard. I literally have 10 different documents full of ideas for where I wanted this to go and none of it was working. but for some reason !!! tonight my brain went nah I got you, and I typed this out in like 2-3hrs?? so I hope you like it! I'm only sad I couldn't do more tbh 🥺🖤

unbeta'd, edited by me. if you see any errors, no you didn't :)

18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI. IF YOU INTERACT AND YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR AGE VISIBLE ON YOUR BLOG YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI.

"Nope. Hell no. There's no way I'm fitting that thing in my mouth."

Your manicured nail gestures up and down at the monstrosity leaking in front of your face.

"I appreciate the compliment, pet," Thor laughs and leans back on the couch. He rests arms behind his head, making his massive biceps bulge more.

All the machismo and raw power dripping from this man alone should be enough to intimidate you, but you're not easily swayed.

"What am I supposed to do? Unhinge my jaw like a fucking snake?"

"Or you could shut the fuck up and do it already."

The clinking of ice against glass draws your attention to Curtis standing at the penthouse suite's fully stocked bar. You wish he would go back to silently judging you from across the room, the fucking prick.

He sips his drink as you stare daggers.

"You want to come over here and do it then, boss?"

Thor looks his way and tosses up an eyebrow because of course the Big Slut is down.

Curtis grimaces and downs the rest of his drink, leaving it on the bar top.

"No thank you. I'm not interested in a mouthful of protein shake tonight."

He pushes up the sleeves of his gray henley, making his way over to your pouting self as Thor guffaws above you.

"Now c'mon, sweetheart, don't be shy. Open wide."

Curtis yanks the back of your hair with one hand once you're within reach, taking advantage of your open mouth gasping in pain to shove it down over Thor's bulbous head.

"That's it, good girl."

Your jaw is screaming around the blond's girth, tears already pooling at the corners of your eyes.

Curtis' grip on your head doesn't loosen but he waits for you to collect yourself. It takes a moment, but soon you're breathing through your nose and drooling on Thor's cock.

"Ah, look how pretty those tears are, my little pet."

Thor's deep baritone rumbles through you, almost like an electric current sending a shock to your cunt.

Your full lips ache as you suckle around his cockhead, the taste of him salty and sweet and pooling on your tongue.

It's uncomfortable but not unpleasant taking him like this, running your tongue over his sensitive head, bobbing as much as you can with Curtis' hand on your head. Your hands envelop what you can't reach, using the copious amount of drool pouring from your lips to ease the glide.

"So cute. Those little hands can't go all the way around, can they?"

You make a show of trying your hardest to touch your fingers to your thumb, but you can't and your tightened grip makes Thor chuckle and groan, more of his slick oozing into your stuffed mouth.

Curtis sees a flash of your smirk at Thor's reaction and pulls you off of his length before shoving you down a few more inches. He growls low in his chest, gripping you tighter as you sputter around the sudden invasion, only having gotten a couple gasps of air into your lungs.

"You think this is a game, little girl. Your instructions were to take his cock down your fucking throat, stop fucking around."

Thor pets your cheek as more tears fall. You'd like to think his aim is to soothe you, but the fucker just spreads those tears around, collects them on his thumb and brings it to his mouth to suck clean.

"Delicious."

You're about halfway down his cock with an entire fist still sitting under your lips, your throat pulsing around his tip.

"Suck, sweetheart. Do what good little fuckdolls do and maybe we'll give you a nice bonus."

You distantly hear a zipper coming down.

Just inside your peripherals you see Curtis pulling his thick cock out of his jeans, fisting it so slowly it almost feels menacing.

Your mind is already floating, your eyes struggling to stay open as you force yourself down further, sucking and jerking and rubbing your hand over him. The slick sounds matching Thor's groans and making the wet spot on your panties grow.

Curtis leans down next to your ear, dropping his hand from his cock to wrap around your throat.

"Fuck, sweetheart, look at you. You look so beautiful gagging on cock. Doing what you were made for."

He gives your throat a squeeze. Thor groans above you, the loudest one yet. You stroke his length faster, harder, determined to suck his fucking soul out of his balls.

When all of a sudden Curtis lets go of your hair and you're being lifted up off your knees, your hands falling to Thor's hips to steady yourself.

Thor's cock falls from your mouth and lands with a wet slap on his abs. You cough and sputter, gasping for breath and confused.

"Curtis what -"

You feel the bottom of your dress being flipped up, your panties pulled down to your knees, and in one smooth motion Curtis shoves his cock into your cunt.

You scream, falling forward from the force. Curtis gives you a moment to adjust to his thickness spreading your walls, just like he did with Thor's cock. He's mean but not impatient. He knows you can take it.

Thor's cock bobs in your face like a cobra waiting to strike.

"You did such a good job, darling," Thor's accented praise sends a shiver through you. His meaty paw wraps around his cock and he strokes it, meeting Curtis' gaze over your shoulder for a moment before tapping it on your spit-slick bottom lip.

"Open up. Let me see those pretty lips around my cock again."

You hesitate for just a moment, already feeling sore from taking him the first time.

Curtis lands a quick, hard smack to your ass.

"He said 'open'. Be good. Don't make me hold you down again."

You don't know if you sob or moan but you do listen and take Thor's cock into your mouth once again.

Curtis begins to move then, gripping your hips tight as he slams into you hard over and over. Taking his time opening you up until you're pushing back against him.

Thor's eyes are heavy and lidded as he watches you bounce in Curtis' cock. He reaches for your breasts, your nipples hanging taut and begging to be pinched and squeezed by his thick fingers.

You moan around his cock, the stimulation on both sides is building in your core and Curtis can feel it, can see how creamy your pussy is around his cock as his thrusts quicken.

"So fucking tight. Fucking pussy's like a vice. You gonna come for me? Does she deserve to come?"

Curtis' question to Thor makes your eyes snap open, begging and pleading with your mouth full of his cock to let you come.

"What do you say, pet, should I let you come?"

You're sobbing around his cock, rocking violently in time with Curtis' hips digging into you, slapping against your ass at a brutal pace now.

Thor wipes the tears from your eyes with one hand and pulls his cock from your mouth, using his wet hand to fist his cock.

"Beg, pet. Beg nicely and you'll get my cream as well."

"Please, please let me come. I'll be good. Promise. Want your come, Thor, please."

"Go ahead, pet. Let me see it."

Curtis reaches around and holds your face up by your throat as you fall apart.

Your eyes never leave Thor's as you cry and scream and shake, your juices spurting around Curtis' pounding cock.

Thor's fist flies over his cock until his legs are shaking, his balls tightening and he's growling out, "Open up, pet. Be good and catch all of it."

You come again as Thor paints your face, globs of it catching on your cheeks and nose and mouth. Once he's finished, Thor wipes what remains off your face and onto your tongue. You greedily suck at his digits, moaning on his fingers as your legs shake.

"You look so pretty, pet, covered in my spunk."

"She looks better full of it."

Curtis smacks your ass again and spreads you open, stopping only for a moment to drop a wad of spit on your hole. His hand that was around your throat rubs down your back until he's *there* pressing against your tight bud with his thumb.

"Fuck!"

You shout as he pushes it in, fucking you with it slowly as he continues to pound into your pussy, his hips grinding, searching for that spot that makes your eyes roll back. Thor leans forward and captures your lips in a powerful kiss. You groan into his mouth as he nudges in with his tongue, searching, tasting.

When Curtis gets the angle just right you shout, coming hard and fast, gripping his cock in a chokehold.

With a shout Curtis is right there with you dumping his hot load into your cunt.

"Fucking shit."

Thor gets up from the couch, leaving you to watch Curtis' jizz leak from your puffy cunt as he pulls out.

"Beautiful, pet, just beautiful."

You fall forward on the couch, not caring that your bare ass is still up in the air.

"Stop staring, you two chucklefucks. Can someone get a towel."

Thor is already on it, producing one from behind the bar and wiping you down with it. When he's done Thor plops himself down on the couch next to your limp body.

"That wasn't too bad, was it, sweetheart?"

You stand on shaky legs and stick your tongue out at Thor as you right your dress.

"This," you gesture to the anaconda hiding in Thor's pants, "was a one time thing."

Curtis is at the bar again having tidied and tucked himself away by now. He pours himself a drink and hands you an envelope.

"Your bonus."

"Oh fuck you were serious."

You snatch it out of his hands and check the contents. Content with your findings you stuff it into your purse and slip your shoes on.

You eye Curtis and Thor one last time as you enter the elevator.

"See you at work, boss. You too, slut."

Thor's raucous laughter is the last thing you hear as the elevator doors close.

#fineanddandy3s #curtis everett fan fiction #curtis everett x y/n #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett one shot #thor x you #thor x y/n #thor x reader #thor fan fiction #thor one shot #thor headcannon #curtis everett headcannon #curtis everett x fem!reader #thor x fem!reader #my fics

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Family Affair

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, violence, humiliation, biting, and other possible triggers. 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 sister surprises you with good news but you find it difficult to be happy for her. (older, short reader)

Character: Curtis Everett

Note: Happy Curtmas.

For @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge.

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. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Chatter buzzes from the front room as you brace the wall and lift your foot to unzip your wedge boot. You’re late and the guests are already in the throes of their celebration. You wiggle off both boots and set them amid the clutter of many. As you stand straight and gather up your gift bags and purse, you’re met with an unexpected sight.

You lift a brow, slightly confused by the unfamiliar man. He’s tall, his hair is cut short, and dark stubble adds definition to his well-formed jaw. His eyes are a bold shade of aquamarine but are glossed over with an almost indifferent gleam. He doesn’t say a word as your eyes meet and he just as quickly turns into the front room, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.

It’s been a few years. You’re sure a lot has changed. You head down the hall, past the broad archway of the front room, and into the kitchen. As usual, your mother is there, readying another tray of finger foods.

She looks up from her intent work and gives a wide smile, “you’re here!” She chimes, “I was half-waiting for a call saying you wouldn’t make it.”

Her arrow hits the bullseye of your guilt. You haven’t been the most reliable. You can make excuses; the divorce, work, depression. None of that can assuage her.

“Sorry, mom,” you go to put the gift bags down and she stops you with a tut.

“Ah, ah, you go add those to the pile and say hello,” she demands, “you’re not hiding in here.”

You look at her, almost desperate. You love her but sometimes you wonder if that feeling is mutual. As much as she’s right, you hoped she might have some empathy. She’s been through a turbulent split, she’s had to start again, but she expects you to do it flawlessly. As she has anything else.

“Love you, mom,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Love you too, hon,” she goes back to arrange the spiral of cocktail weenies, “make sure you say hello to your sister. She’s so excited to see you.”

You nod and a real smile breaks through. That was the one light at the end of the tunnel. Your baby sister was always your favourite. Despite nearly two decades between you, she’s your best friend. In a way, you feel like a second mother, taking pride in her like you would a child of your own.

The front room is filled to the brim. Aunt Geri and Uncle Val sit on a sofa with their son, Miko. A cluster of similarly aged cousins stand at the edge of the couch chatting. Aunt Maureen argues with Aunt Kaya, and the latter’s husband stands by the window with a glass in hand and his mind a million miles away.

You always found yourself out of place at these things. When you were a child, you were the youngest one in the room. Too immature to understand the dialogue of your elders. As you got older, the other cousins came along and were too young for your angsty teenage self. Now, you’re caught in the desert between the eras; the retirees complain too much and the coeds talk too loud.

You peer around. A set of broad shoulders draws your eye in the corner of the room. It’s that same man you saw before. He has his back to you as he maintains a casual posture. As he leans on one leg, you see your sister, Adeline, gabbing to him. Oh, he must be with her…

As you drop your gifts under the tree, you mull the revelation. You suppose the assumption wasn’t obvious. At first glance, he’s older than her, or maybe he just looks it. She’s still a sophomore in college but you suppose that makes even more sense. These are the years she gets to figure it all out.

You face the room and stop as Aunt Maureen latches onto your arm, blindsiding you with Kaya as they close in like hyenas.

“There she is,” Maureen slurs.

“Not too good for us after all, huh?” Kaya challenges.

“What? No, uh, Merry Christmas–”

“Where’s Benny?” Maureen interrupts. You blanch, nearly choking on your tongue. The mention of your ex-husband has you breathless.

“Maur,” Kaya hisses, “remember…”

“Probably with his new girlfriend,” you say tersely.

“Oh my,” Maureen lets you go and slaps her forehead, “I’m so sorry. The wine…”

“It’s… okay,” you shrug. “Not talking about it won’t undo it.”

“He was such a charming man,” Maureen hums mournfully. You blink at her.

“His loss,” Kaya pats your arm gently, trying to clean up her sister’s mess. You know they all think the same. You had a good thing and you blew it. Even if you told them he fucked his co-worker, you’d be the one who threw it all away.

“Pity you never got a kid outta him,” Maureen sighs.

“Really, divorce has been final for a year, I’m good,” you insist and shuffle past them, “I’m going to make the rounds.”

“Don’t forget to have some wine,” Maureen calls after you, “takes the edge off disappointment, you know?”

You growl and shake your head as you stalk away. You wave hello to your other aunt and uncle, hoping to avoid a similarly humiliating encounter, and weave through the sea of guffawing cousins. You come out on the other side as Adeline beams up at her guest.

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and her face lights up. She bounces in place and throws her arms out. She rushes past the man and has you wrapped up in a hug. It’s kind of ridiculous how much taller she is. You’re supposed to be the bigger sister.

“You’re here!” She rocks you in her embrace, “eek! I’m so excited.”

You croak out a breath as she squeezes the air out of you. She releases you with a giggle, apologising as she steps back. She wears a long tulle skirt and a beaded sweater. She’s beautiful. You could never pull something like that off, even twenty years ago.

“Oh, oh, you have to meet Curtis,” she snatches your hand and tugs you over the tall man as he turns to face you. Those same vague eyes fall upon you, “Curtis, this is my sister!”

“Curtis,” you repeat, “it’s nice to meet you.”

You look between them with a brittle smile. He offers his hand as he returns the sentiment. You shake, his palm rough and calloused. Adeline vibrates with joy.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says.

“And I’ve heard nothing about you,” you grin at Adeline, “Addy?”

“I’m sorry,” she cups her cheeks guiltily, a sparkle on her ring finger. Your heart drops. “I didn’t know how to– the divorce and–”

“Ad,” you wisp and nearly sway on your feet, “what is that?”

You point to her hand and she quickly swipes it away, hiding it behind her back. “Nothing,” she gulps, the same way she did when she was a child and you caught her playing with your makeup.

There’s a tense silence as you gape in shock. Your mouth hangs open as you search for the words. Your eyes tinge with hot tears but you swallow them back.

“Congratulations,” you draw her into a hug, “really, I’m happy for you.”

She hugs you back, gentler than before. As you part, she looks nervous. Curtis clears his throat.

“Both of you,” you offer him a fragile smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little… shocked. Does mom know?”

Adeline nods as she clasps her hands together. You take a breath, and calm yourself. It’s not anything that she fears, you’re not jealous. You’re nervous, you’re afraid for her. It’s a big thing and she’s so young.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around to share the good news,” you say, “I’d love to help, if I can?”

“We got it,” Curtis insists.

“Oh,” you wince, “I didn’t mean– I could help with the planning or the engagement part–”

“We’re eloping,” he crosses his arms, “we’re not wedding people. Whole lot of money and fanfare for nothing.”

You nod, holding back your surprise as best you can. Nothing? It’s marriage. Even if they don’t want a big ceremony, it means something.

“I could help pay for the trip–”

“I got it,” he enunciates each word as he sidles over to sling his arm around your sister’s back. She looks away meekly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. She’s my sister, I just want to–”

“If you wanted to help, you would’ve been around the last two years,” he interjects.

Adeline’s head snaps around as she gives him a look. She nudges him with her elbow and whispers his name. He glares at you as you wilt. You’re not sure what you’ve done or said.

“Well, I think maybe me and Addy can talk about that,” you look at your sister, “when you have a chance, of course. I don’t want to spoil the holiday.”

“Adeline,” he corrects you, “Addy is so juvenile.”

The benefit of the doubt splinters as his tone cuts through you. You bite your tongue. Perhaps a twenty-one year old is juvenile to someone his age. You’ll talk to Addy about that too.

“Adeline,” you force a smile, “I… I’m going to go check on mom.” You show a palm in deference as you excuse yourself, “we’ll catch up later.”

As you back away, your eyes meet Curtis’. He watches you with a scowl. You are taken completely off balance. How could she end up with someone like him? She’s so sweet and he’s so scary…

Maybe she’s afraid too.

🎄

Christmas Eve ends much the same as you remember. The elders sit around the dining table to play cards as the kids, now adults, disperse in the living room or outside to entertain themselves. There’s a vague stench near the front door that no one will comment on but everyone knows what it is as it wafts in from outside.

You find yourself in limbo, once more caught in the in-between. You hole up in the kitchen, staring at the kettle as you wait for it to tremble. You won’t be missed if you take a tea up to your assigned room without a good night.

You lean on the counter and sigh, your finger brushing over the brim of the white porcelain cup with the hen on it. Strange how your mother’s house never seems to change but your life is inextricably altered. Your melancholy dims the cheery decor around you as you wallow away from the voices of the merry.

“There you are,” Adeline startles you as she sweeps in, “oh, is there any of the hot choccy left?”

You smile at her question. Everything about her reminds you of the time passed, of her newfound adulthood, yet she’s just the same little girl you always knew. You turn and pull the tin forward, “one packet left, just for you.”

You pull it out and face her again. She pulls out a mug from the cupboard and sets it down. The kettle hums between you as it heats up.

She exhales as you linger in a tense silence. You both have so much to say but neither of you know where to start. She finds her words first. Despite being younger, she was always the more outspoken.

“Do you like him?” She asks.

You poke your tongue into your cheek, “well, I’ve barely spoken to him. He seems to like you though.”

Her cheeks bulb as she grins bashfully, “I love him.”

Your chest seizes as you recognize that glimmer in her eye. She’s genuine, she feels that love so deeply it consumes her. It’s a naive love but real nonetheless. The sort you can’t see for what it is until it turns sour.

“I can tell,” you reach forward to fix the bow on her headband, “I’m happy for you. And my offer still stands. Maybe if it’s not the wedding, a honeymoon, or help with a house…” you wet your lips and steady your voice, “I only want you to be happy, Addy– Adeline.”

“Oh, he’s just… he’s like that. I can’t even call him Curt. He balances me out,” she beams.

“Yeah,” you say noncommittally.

“What?” Her voice dampens.

“Nothing,” you distract yourself with the variety of tea bags in the wooden chest next to the breadbox, “it’s… a lot. I’m surprised, is all. I just hope it goes well.”

She sniffs and lets her breath out long and heavy, “I’m sorry, I knew– he kinda said you’d probably be upset. After Benny–”

“This has nothing to do with him,” you narrow your eyes at her, a bag of chai in your hand, “this is about you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“He’s so good to me, you don’t have to worry.”

“I can worry, you’re my baby sister,” you insist, “and…” You shake your head, refusing to let the thought escape.

“And what?” She challenges, her pitch squeaking.

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me. I can always tell when you’re dying to say something. What?”

You shrug, “it’s just… how old is he?”

She scoffs, “wow.”

“What? I’m just asking.”

“It’s not like he’s old enough to be dad,” she pouts and crosses her arms.

“I know, I didn’t mean– Ad–Adeline, I just— you have time to figure it out. So I hope you’re not rushing this.”

“I’m not,” she snips, an uncharacteristic edge in her voice.

“I believe you… but what about him?”

She’s quiet as the kettle clicks, signalling the boiling point. You turn and drop the tea bag into your cup and pour the water. She tears open the packet and empties it into her own mug.

“Sorry,” you utter, “forget it. I… I don’t know him so maybe I need to get to know him. I’m here, Ad, and I will always be here for you.”

She nods and reaches for the kettle, not looking at you.

“Really, I trust you. I just worry about you,” you clap your hand on her shoulder, “you’re my lil teddy bear.”

She chuckles and looks down at you, your statement made absurd by the difference in your heights.

“And you’re the big grizzly, scaring off the wolves,” she kids back.

“Adeline,” the deep rumble thunders in ahead of the man, making both of you jump. You pull back your hand as Curtis strides in, “hey, I’ve been waiting on you.”

“Oh, sorry, baby,” she preens at him, “I was just–”

“You said we’d call my family after dinner,” he interrupts.

“I forgot,” she squeals, “oh, I’m so sorry.” She glances over at you, “I did promise.”

“Go on,” you try to smile but you’re not sure it’s showing.

She spins and flits over to Curtis. His eyes meet yours over her shoulder. His brows arch as his jaw is set in stone. A chill runs up your spine at the ice in his dark pupils. He grabs Adeline’s hand and drags her out.

You’re left in silence. You look over at the unmixed powder floating in the steaming water. You chew your lip as you stare at it. It’s just hot chocolate but there’s something about her abandoning something she loves so much for him. You try not to let your own failed marriage echo over her relationship, but it just feels off.

Well, Benny always did say you never did handle change very well.

🎄

The night before Christmas is rarely a restful one. Even without the childish belief in Saint Nick, you find yourself awake, anxious but not for presents. You keep replaying the night through your head; not the awkward interactions with aunts and uncles, or the silent judgment from the younger crowd, but Adeline and Curtis. Let it go, it’s none of your business.

You huff and roll on your back. Sleep eludes you. You sit up and bend over the side of the bed. You hold your head. You’ll sneak out the bathroom and hopefully an empty bladder will help.

You drag your feet across the floor, the legs of your pajama pants too long and trailing down your feet. You open the door and yawn as you enter the hall, only to collide with another unexpected barrier. Before you can react, you’re being forced back into the guestroom, stumbling as your fingers claw at the door frame and slip off.

A hand smothers your mouth, rough against your lips, as a foot kicks the door shut with a sharp click. You murmur into the calloused flesh as an arm loops around your back, trapping you as you’re urged further into the dark. You grasp at the cotton clinging to muscular shoulder. You’re kept off balance by your attacker’s certainty.

“I fucking heard you,” Curtis’ silty grit seeps into your ears, “you think I’d hurt her?” He snarls as he stops you at the foot of the bed. His shadow looms over you, breath puffing from his nostrils as he growls like a beast, “I wouldn’t, but I’ll hurt you.”

He pushes you back so your legs meet the side of the bed. You teeter and clasp your hand around his wrist, squeaking as he easily takes you down onto the mattress. He pins you, your legs hanging off the end, kicking weakly as his other hand curves around your throat.

He bends over you, straddling your chest heavily. You can’t breathe. Your heart pounds until your ears throb. Your temples pulse violently and your throat dries to a sandy scrape.

“Stay out of my fucking business,” he snarls, sliding down your body.

You whimper into his hand as he drops his knees off the bed, holding himself over you. He squeezes your neck, choking out your voice as he drags his hand from your mouth. He feels along your chest and flicks open the top button of your shirt. Your eyes wet in horror.

“Fucking show you…” he sneers as his breath scours over your flesh.

Another button undone as his lips tick along your shoulder. You squeak once more as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, biting a mean pinch until you spasm. The pain is unbearable. You feel the skin break as the hot flow of blood mingles with his spit.

He detaches only to bite you again. You can’t make a noise as his grip grows tighter on your neck. Even if you could scream, you’re too terrified and confused to understand what he’s doing. He’s like an animal tearing you apart.

He lays a tortured path down your chest, lingering on the rise of flesh, gnawing into the tenderness there. His nails dig into your side, pushing up your shirt as he scratches hot lines into your skin. You push on his shoulders desperately but he’s too strong.

“Stop filling her head with your bitterness,” he growls before he bites into your nipple.

You shake and beat on his head, shoulders, and back. You writhe and wrestle, trying to free yourself from him. He continues on, down your stomach, lingering on the soft flesh as his fingers hook into the elastic of your pants.

Your panic overflows with your tears. This can’t be happening. Why would he do this? He could talk to you? You would listen. You didn’t say anything wrong, you just want Adeline to be careful.

The very thought of your sister throttles you. Does he do this to her? Is this why she’s so defensive? The idea makes you sick to your stomach.

He lifts himself, his weight centering on your neck. You think he’ll crush your windpipe as he looms over you, snarling in the blackness. He pushes you higher onto the bed, forcing your legs open with his knees.

“Don’t make a fucking noise or I’ll make sure you can’t,” he threatens, giving a last squeeze before slowly slackening his grip.

You hold your breath. You believe him. Your body goes limp and you close your eyes. The bed shifts as he sits back on his heels. He pulls your pants down your thighs and you whine. He hushes you, a harsh tap across your cheek to get his point across.

You let your head drift to one side as you clench the blanket beneath you in tight fists. He keeps your legs trapped in your pants, knees bent as the fabric strains across his stomach. He tilts and movies around, his fingernails scratching the back of your thighs.

“Bet the husband couldn’t stand your fucking mouth,” he snarls as he pushes roughly against your cunt. “Didn’t know how to train you.” He jams two fingers into you, jolting your entire body, “dry bitch like you, he was probably thirsty as fuck.”

You seal your eyes tight, tears trickling through as a sob bubbles in your throat. You want to tell him to stop. You want to ask why. You want to scream. You can’t do anything as your body locks up.

He fingers you meanly, pulling his fingers out only to ram them in again, each time his knuckles hit you painfully. He keeps it up, growling with each intrusion as your muscles knots and pathetic noises rise from your throat.

He forces your legs higher, tearing his hand away from your pelvis. He adjusts his knees and you feel something else against your cunt.

“No…” you whisper right as he ruts into you.

He splits you apart around him. You let out a holler and he quickly silences you with a crack of his knuckles. The back of his hand snaps off your cheek and turns your head to the other side. You gulp and sob, choking back any noise that threatens to bubble over.

He holds himself as deep as he can. He puts his large hands on your shoulders and pins you flat. He bucks, agony rippling up your spine. He snaps his hips, again and again, each time harder than the last.

“This is what you need. So fucking jealous, aren’t you? Dried up old bitch,” he pumps into you as his breath picks up, “why kind of sister are you, huh? Fucking your baby sister’s man. Fucking slut.”

You cover your face and heave. You’re drowned in pain and humiliation. You’re disgusted with him for doing this to you; and yourself for letting him.

“You don’t wanna hurt her, do you?” He growls, “that’s why this is happening… cause you wanna keep her safe, right?”

He puts his hand against your head and pushes it down into the bed, fucking you into the mattress. The frame pounds the wall, matching his furious rhythm. You reach to brace his thick arm, begging silently for it to end.

“Oh, it’ll be over soon,” he rasps as his hand once more frames your throat, “fuck, you got me ready to blow quicker than I thought.” He puffs, each thrust rattling your bones, “I love how weak you are.”

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #snowpiercer #au #christmas #naught or nice

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recschrisevans · 2 years

Text

y\n - i'm cold

Jake, Syd, Lucas - I can't change the temperature

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y\n - I'm cold

Colin, Ari, Jonhy, Nick, Jake, Steve, Me, Mace(Hugging you) - Come here baby, I'll warm you up!

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y\n - I'm cold

Curtis, Frank, Paul, Andy (taking off his surly coat) - I told you to bring a jacket, take mine!

-------------------------------------------

y\n - I'm cold

Bryce, Ransom, Mr Freezy, Lloyd (taking off a jacket from a random person and giving it to you) - Here, dear!

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bigtreefest · 3 months

Text

Fic Rec Masterlist

*This list is constantly being edited as I read more that’s so good I feel the need to share

Fluff 💞| Smut 🔥| Angst 🧊 | ST’s Favorite 🌟

Bucky Barnes

Series

🌟An Offer by @wntrs0ldier

I Thought You’d Never Happen to Me by @nickfowlerrr

Van Helsing Retold 🧊by @gaysindistress

New Tricks by @sebstanwhore

The List by @srgntjamesbuckybarnes

Catch Me if You Can by @buckyalpine

Treat You Better by @notafunkiller

Wedded Bliss by @gutsby

I Think He Knows by @delicatebarness

One-Shots

Wrapped Around Him by @angrythingstarlight

Back Again by @delaber

Are You Bored Yet? By @pellucid-constellations

Curiosity Killed the Cat by @queers-gambit

My Everyday by @pellucid-constellations

Traitor (technically a 2-shot) 🧊🔥 by @insomniumstella

Details by @soulgazingwithbucky

When we are Older by @buckys-wintersoldier

Hell Hath no Fury Like a Farmer Scorned by @eat-limes-bitches

You Know Just What I Need by @sinner-as-saint

Right Here by @ellemj

I Hate You by @ellemj

My First and Only by @buckyalpine

Bake Nights by @jobean12-blog

Steve Rogers

Series

Reckless 💞🔥🧊 by @kinanabinks

The Gemini by @rogersideup

One-shots

With You by @buckets-and-trees

I’m So, So… Sorry by @ronearoundblindly

Stucky

Series

The Brooklyn Boys by @buckets-and-trees

Backstage Pass by @luxeavenger

Mafia!Stucky by @myfictionaldreams

The Fuckboy Committee by @kinanabinks

Ari Levinson

Series

Highways & Heatstrokes (trucker AU) 🔥 by @oh-my-damn

🌟Bedrock and Blueprints by @ronearoundblindly

Sweet Renegade by @cevansbrat0007

Being in Love (ex Bucky) by @imtryingbuck

Pearls & Sunflowers by @chase-your-dreams-away

Flamingo King by @onsunnyside

One-Shots

Stoner sex 🔥 by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

I’ll Wait, Angel by @buckyscombatboots

Jake Jensen

Series

One-Shots

A Helping Hand by @buckymorelikefuckme

Curtis Everett

Series

Live Is Short So Make It Sweet by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

I Know I Should Know Better by @krirebr

Dream Come True by @thezombieprostitute

One-Shots

Andy Barber

Series

Like I’m Gonna Lose You (with Ransom Drysdale) by @paperweight91

One-shots

Ransom Drysdale

Series

Precarious Agreements by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

The Root of All Ransom by @ronearoundblindly

More Than This by @krirebr

One-Shots

Afterglow by @stargazingfangirl18

Johnny Storm

Colin Shea

Sprawling Multi-character AUs

Lucky Charms by @yenzys-lucky-charm

We’re All Monsters by @krirebr @paperweight91

Come Hell or High Water by @imaginedreamwrite

#Bucky Barnes #Steve rogers #Ari Levinson #Jake Jensen #Curtis Everett #fic rec Masterlist #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Steve rogers fanfiction #Ari Levinson fanfiction #Jake Jensen fanfiction #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #Curtis Everett fanfiction #stucky #stucky fanfiction #chris evans #sebastian stan

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babyjakes · 1 year

Text

angel's aid. [blurb.]

event | feb '23 blurb night

summary | when the tail-end's chaos gets to you, curtis knows just what you need.

pairing | friend!curtis everett x reader

warnings | me not (ever) really knowing how to write snowpiercer, curtis and reader don't have any established relationship (i imagine they're just friends in this), mentions/depictions of sensory overload and being overstimulated, soft sweet comforting understanding curtis, this seems to be some sort of routine for the two of them- curtis helps whenever she needs it

word count | 474

requested by @brandycranby | for the hc blurb night, maybe curtis + reader being sensory overloaded? 🥺

an | ooooh yes yes yes yes yes thankyou for this request friend!! i was hoping to write soft!curtis for this event and i love this idea so much, i imagine being on that god-awful train would just feel like a literal prison at times so i love the concept of curtis trying to help you through that- i hope you enjoy!! (also thanks so much to my bestie @starksbabie for helping me focus on writing this lol you are such an angel and a blessing i could not do this life without you)

"Come on, y/n- I got you. Almost there."

All you can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other as you trail along behind Curtis, your hand wrapped firmly in his as he guides you through the mayhem of the train car. It's nice to have his hand; it always is- it's something to focus in on, a singular sensation to hold your attention amidst the whirlwind of chaos surrounding you. Warm and steady, his support is tangible.

When the two of you reach your destination: the tiny closet tucked away at the back of the cabin, Curtis ushers you in gently before securing the door behind you. "Alright petal, we made it. You're okay, you're safe."

Your body knows where to go- over to the small makeshift bench in the corner where you can finally collapse into a mess of shaky, uneven breaths. Curtis is down beside you before you can even blink. Not too close, careful not to crowd you in, "Easy, angel," he soothes, "let's get that coat off of you." It's amazing how he knows, he just knows. This is certainly not the first time he's been through this with you. "Can I help?" he asks, not wanting to bring his hands near you without your permission. Trembling, you nod.

His movements are heedful as he eases off your outer layer. Noticing just the slightest improvement in your state after the simple modification, Curtis smiles mildly at you. "There you go, sweet girl. You countin' your breaths for me?" You offer him another nod. It had been surprising the first time he guided you through the breathing techniques; you never would have guessed the cold, rough man would be so adept at aiding in a situation like yours. But if there's one thing you've learned about Curtis over the course of your friendship, it's that he's so much deeper than he might seem. Beneath his grumpy, distant, quiet-and-damaged front, so much empathy and care exist within him.

"You wanna talk, honey? Or not yet? It's okay, there's no rush, y/n." You raise your hand slightly, signaling the need for more time. The man nods understandingly.

"Curtis?" As he glances up at you, a hint of warmth shines in his eyes, his brow softening at the sound of your voice. Swallowing down your hesitation, you ask, "h-hand?"

There isn't a word that could describe the tenderness that graces his face as he stares back at you, there in that dark, lonely closet. "Of course, angel," he coos, taking both of your smaller hands in his. "Just focus on me, sweetheart. Hands and breaths, that's all you gotta think about."

"Hands, breaths," you repeat.

Curtis smiles kindly at you, giving one of your hands a gentle squeeze. "That's right, petal. Doing so good, you're sounding better already."

#eun's writing #angel's aid #eun's blurb nights #feb ‘23 blurb night #curtis everett #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x y/n #curtis everett fluff #curtis everett blurb #curtis everett drabble #curtis everett headcanon #curtis everett one shot #curtis everett imagine #hurt/comfort #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfiction

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

Curtis Everett gives me major stepbro vibes

I cannot explain it but he’d tease so much, touch you when he shouldn’t, make you sit on his lap all the time, have sleepovers

Anything smutty with him would be🫠

hello, sorry this took so long. I hope you like it.

summary - your stepbrother is a menace that likes to tease you and make you feel good, even if it's wrong.

warning - smut, stepcest, grinding, rubbing, voyeurism, oral sex.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, dividers by @firefly-graphics and @newlips

Your legs are opened as you sit at the table, your stepbrother Curtis beside you and your parents in front. You begin to scoop food onto your plate, ignoring Curtis as he rests his hand on your thigh. You give him a soft smile, listening to your parents talk about going on a trip tomorrow and saying that you and Curtis will be home alone.

“That’s okay, mum! Curtis will look after me!” You smile, stuffing your mouth with food when you feel your big brother begin to rub your cunt through your pyjama shorts. “This is good, mum!” Your mother smiles, thanking you.

Your leg begins to bounce, feeling close to your release but a soft whine leaves your lips when Curtis pulls his hand away, smirking behind his glass of water. You quickly cover your cry with a cough. Picking up your drink and taking a sip, whilst you shoot a glare at Curtis.

You walk into the lounge room where Curtis and his friends are, wearing your short white and a soft yellow cardigan over it. Curtis glares at his friends as they whistle. Your cheeks turn a cherry pink from the attention, and you walk over to your stepbrother. Giggling as he opens his arms for you to sit in his lap, his friends groan in jealousy. Annoyed that he gets all of your attention.

“What are you guys watching?” You snuggle into your burly brother, lifting his hand as you play with his fingers. Your cute tiny cotton-covered core rubs against Curtis’s jean-clad bulge, and subconscious moans escape you.

Steve leans forward, and his hands try to catch your kicking feet as he grins at you. “Friday the 13th, little one. Probably not a movie for you, huh?” Your eyes widen, and excited squeals leave you as you bounce on Curtis’s lap, causing him to groan.

“Oh my god! I love that movie!” All of Curtis’s friend's eyes widen, wondering how someone as cute and innocent as you could like a movie involving death. You pout as they stare, curling into your older brother, which causes him to glare at them. “A–am I not supposed to like the movie?”

“You can like the movie, sugar. The boys are just being mean, but I’ll make you feel better.” He holds you close, subtly rocking you into his bulge as you all begin to watch the movie. Soft grunts and moans escape you both. The guys shift awkwardly in their seats as their cocks harden, deciding to watch you instead of the film as you get off from grinding on your stepbrother.

Curtis walks into your room, hands full of snacks, and he gives you a big smile. “You ready for our sleepover, sugar?” You nod excitedly. Pulling the blanket open as you beckon him closer, Curtis can feel his cock harden when he notices you wearing one of his shirts. He gets in, puts the snacks down and then pulls you close to him.

You put on a movie and lay snuggled into him. You feel your lips dry and grab your chapstick, and Curtis’s eyes follow your movements as you apply it. “What flavour is that?”

Your eyes connect with his darkened blue ones before looking down at the tube in your hand. “Oh, it’s vanilla flavoured.”

Curtis licks his lips, his eyes darting down to your plump ones. “Can I try it?” He holds back the smirk that threatens to come out as you hand over the chapstick.

“Sure.”

Curtis ignores it as he leans forward and kisses you. His tongue sweeps over your sweetened lips. A groan escapes him, bringing you deeper into the kiss before he pulls away, a string of saliva attached. “Holy shit, it does!”

You blink and then blink again, feeling your entire being stop functioning as your mind becomes fuzzy and your lips tingle, your tongue darts out as you lick your lips. You were trying to keep the taste of Curtis with you forever. His eyes move down, and a smirk appears as a thought arises.

“Do your other lips taste as sweet?” He begins to move down your body, and your mouth opens and closes as you watch Curtis get between your legs. “Did you enjoy my kiss that much, sugar?” He begins to kiss your inner thigh gently, feeling his cock twitch from the soft whimpers that escape you. Your back arches when you feel his breath against your weeping cunt. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“C–Curtis, please. I’m all tingly.” He groans, lunging forward, attaching his lips to your swollen clit. Sucking it into his mouth before his tongue begins to ravish your puffy lips, thrusting it in and out of your cunt. Lapping up all of your juices and grunting as he tastes you, his nose nuzzled into your clit, rubbing it against you.

“You’re doing so well for me, sugar. Cum for me, cum for your big brother.” He laps at your cunt, switching between thrusting his tongue inside you and sucking your clit. He rubs his cock into your bed, his hips moving as he feels relief.

Your hands move down and grip his head, panting and moaning as your eyes roll back and you let go, whimpering as Curtis slurps up all of your cum. He groans from the taste, cumming into his pants like a teenager. You pull him up and place a soft kiss on his tainted lips. “N–need to do that more… Felt good.” Your eyes are wide and innocent as you stare at him.

He smirks, bringing you into a deeper, more feral kiss.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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georgiapeach30513 · 8 months

Text

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

This year's Kinktober is going to be featuring moodboards that YOU guys help decide. Each of these were created by the moodboard events. Each day in the month of October you will get a new ONE shot. These are not one big universe. Each one will be a stand alone story. Without further adieu

The Girls Come Easy with Lloyd Hansen/Mickey Henry/Clark Kent Just Pull the Trigger with Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Take A Look with Paul Diskant The Spike in My Heart with Cole Turner We Don't Need No Thought Control with Ransom Drysdale Take the Time with Bucky Barnes This Hole In My Chest with Johnny Storm Losing My Mind with Ryan Ackerman Kiss the Stars with Ari Levinson An Open Page with Jefferson Nasty Naughty Boy with Andy Barber/Cole Turner Things I Can't Escape with Johnny Storm Last Night with Colin Shea Watch & See with Kyle How You Scream My Name with Jake Jensen No Privacy with Johnny Storm He Offers Me Protection with Dean Winchester/Soldier Boy Saints and Sinners with Curtis Everett Keep Coming Back For More with Lucas Lee Diamonds In His Watch with Steve Kemp Warm Up To Me with James Mace In Mysterious Ways with Mr. Freezy/Steve Kemp Fade Away with Ari Levinson It's Yours All Yours with Andy Barber Cause We're All Alone with Dayton White When I Crack That Whip with Mike Weiss What Lightning Sees with Frank Adler The Way You Did Last Night with Jimmy Dobyne Made To Be Mine with Jake Wyler Double Shot of Crown with Chase Collins Fear the Reaper with Ransom Drysdale/Curtis Everett

A/N: This one shots will have various forms of kink. They will range from sweeter kinks to dark. Read ALL warnings before each one shot. You are the one responsible for the content that you consume. Minors DNI!

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #chris evans #sebastian stan #henry cavill #jensen ackles

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thezombieprostitute · 3 months

Text

Dream Come True - Part 5

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Violence mentioned and referenced but not written. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

Ransom was shutting down his computer for the day, dismissing his new assistant. It was taking some time but they were working through what they each needed to have a good working relationship. She was a lot more expensive and whiny than Y/N but he had to make peace with that. He checked the mirror, seeing the last traces of the black eye Curtis had given him. It’d been over a week and he’d be happy to see it finally gone.

He turned when his door opened, expecting his assistant, but stopped in alarm when he saw the familiar, mustachioed face of Lloyd Hansen.

“Ransom,” Lloyd smiled, holding his arms out. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Lloyd,” Ransom hesitated. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What? Can’t I just visit?”

“Well, given your current status of “exiled” I think you can understand my confusion.”

Lloyd’s grin faded a little, “oooh, who finally got the balls to punch you, Ran? I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before.”

“Well,” Ransom stalled, “it’s only fair. I was harassing one of his employees.”

“Fair? Ran how hard were you hit? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I’ve grown, Lloyd. Now, I’ll ask again, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Lloyd’s smile widened, “always the kiss ass. No wonder the Bosses put you up in the elite tiers. Schmoozing the old ladies to get them to vote, donate, whatever. That was never my forte.”

Ransom huffed, “certainly not for a lack of willingness to talk. Can I get you a drink?”

“You got the good whiskey,” Lloyd asked before snorting a laugh. “Who am I kidding? Of course you’ve got the good stuff! Make it a double.”

Ransom turned to get the drinks and positioned himself so he could keep an eye on him while also seeming to not pay attention. He poured the drinks and handed Lloyd one before sitting down, gesturing for Lloyd to do the same. Lloyd took a long sip and nodded appreciatively.

“So,” Lloyd remarked, “of course I am here on unfinished business.” Ransom nodded in understanding. “I was kicked out of my territory because the higher ups didn’t like how I handled things. You’d think guys with their background wouldn’t mind a little more blood on their hands. I got results, they kicked me out. I’ve finally got things sorted out and built up to take over everything. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Ransom's eyebrows shot up, “everything? You don’t want to be in charge of just the Gar- intel gathering anymore? The empire’s grown since you were last here. Are you sure you can handle it all?”

“That’s where you come in, pretty boy,” Lloyd retorts before taking another sip. “We both know public relations ain’t my thing. You be the face of everything, keep your nice lifestyle, maybe even make it cushier, and I’ll handle all the dirty work. You know, the fun side of things.”

“Such a generous offer. How long do I have to think about it?”

“By the time I’ve finished my drink.”

Ransom nods, “so I’d still be doing all the schmoozing and kiss-ass work?”

“Yes,” Lloyd acknowledged, taking another long sip. “But you’d have a much bigger allowance and a lot more support in the harassment of employees.”

“It’s a very tempting offer,” Ransom conceded. “May I ask the repercussions if I decline?”

“Well, I can’t exactly have you telling the others that I’m in town, let alone that I have plans.” He raises an eyebrow while opening his jacket, showing Ransom the gun he has strapped to his chest.

Ransom nods and contemplates, watching Lloyd’s drink slowly disappear. “It is a good deal, but what assurances do I have that your plan will work? I’m already on thin ice with the Bosses. If they find out I helped you in any way, even by not mentioning your visit, it’ll be a death sentence for me, too.”

“Ransom, I’m hurt,” Lloyd mocked. “You think I would even tell you this much if I wasn’t certain of my victory?”

“In my defense, you’ve been found out before.”

Lloyd sighed, “I suppose you’re right. Fine.” Lloyd drinks the last of his whiskey and sets the glass down before standing up, “either you agree to help me and get a much more self-indulgent lifestyle, or you turn me down and end up dead. You have no other guarantees in life.”

“How do you know I won’t just tell them you’re here?”

“Because you know, damn well, I’ll do so much more than just give you a black eye,” Lloyd glowered. “I’ve got my own comm guys monitoring all of your devices as well as a few well placed bugs. You won’t be able to do anything to warn them without my knowing. And neither of us would really enjoy your screams as I make an example out of you.”

Ransom glared up at Lloyd, “well. I guess I don’t have much of a choice then. I’ll be expecting my first paycheck soon. I’ve got an assistant to win over.”

“That cute one who just left?”

“No, she’s the temporary replacement,” Ransom huffed. “My last assistant was the fat one?” Ransom searched Lloyd’s face for any sign he knew of the woman he was talking about but found none.

“Huh, never would’ve taken you to be interested in the bigger ladies,” Lloyd smiled. “That’s usually my demographic.”

“I have a new appreciation for them,” Ransom professed. “I blame you for getting the idea in my head.”

Lloyd laughed, “now that’s something I’ll happily take the blame for.”

“Hey, Jake,” you ask as you hesitantly approach Jensen.

He looks up from his work, “Hey Teach! What are you doing here? I thought it was your day off?”

“I thought so too,” you admit. “This…this is going to sound weird, but I think Ransom might be in trouble.” Jake’s brows furrowed in confusion and you continue, “I’ve been getting a bunch of gifts from him. They’ve been getting delivered seemingly nonstop since yesterday. I was gonna just throw them out, let him waste his money, but then I…I may have picked up a pattern?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” you hesitate, “this is going to sound paranoid, but I noticed that all of the gifts he got me were the same gifts some of his characters used when they had to silently indicate they needed help. He sent me begonias. Begonias mean “Beware” in flower language so whenever Mrs. Nylund wanted to warn her secret lover her husband was home, she’d spend hours working on the begonias. He also sent me orange lilies. When Miss Petrillo sent her mother yellow lilies, it meant she was fine but orange lilies meant she was in danger.”

Jake was listening patiently, nodding, “I dunno, it could just be those flowers were on his mind.”

“I thought that, too,” you admitted. “But then the jewelry started coming in. A necklace and earring set that are an exact match for the ones Lady Devereaux would fidget with as a signal to her security to remove the person she was talking to. An amulet with a challenge coin, just like Mr. Bryson sent to his brother as a silent signal for help. The list goes on.”

“That is pretty strange,” Jake admitted. “Since he was put on notice by the higher ups we have had a couple bugs added to his place.” He turns to his computer and starts typing, “let me check if they’ve picked up any unusual ac– No. No, you don’t.” Jake’s demeanor suddenly gets serious as he gives the computer his full focus, typing faster than you can register. “Oh, you’re a feisty one. You’re not getting into my systems you bastard. Aww, you really think that’ll work? Well watch me counter with this magic!”

He goes on for several minutes before finally sitting back and letting out a big breath. He looks at you, “I think you’re right. I think Ransom is in trouble.”

Part 4 -- Part 6

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x plus size!reader #curtis everett x insecure!reader #mafia!curtis everett #mob!curtis everett #curtis everett #plus size!reader #ongoing series

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dbnightingale24 · 2 months

Text

Fog In The Mind, Desire In The Heart

A Dark Curtis Everett Love Story

Surprise! I decided to take a small break from the three novels I'm writing (I promise that your updates are coming!!), and finish the damn Curtis Everett one shot I promised you guys years ago. It may take me forever to get to the point, but I do eventually get there, in my defense. Anywho, this is a lot shorter than what you all are used to, but I hope you all enjoy it just the same! As always, thanks to the amazing @fuckingbyefor the moodboard! Here we go!

Word Count: 9911 (yes, you read that correctly)

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18+), Slight Snowpiercer AU, Slight Age Gap between Edgar and Reader (work with me people), Curtis Everett, Daddy Kink, Non Con/Dub Con, Drinking, Plotting, Self Hate, Loathing, Betrayal, Swearing, Angst, Mild Violence, Anger, Pining...I think that's it?

Songs That Inspired This Story: I'd Walk Through Fire For You, Just Let Me Adore You

Summary: Everyone stuck in the tail section dreamed of a better life for themselves. Everyone except for Curtis. For him, his better life would start when you were happy and by his side, no matter who he had to force out of the way.

I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted/published elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

For as much as you hate Curtis, he lives rent free in your head all day. You sit at the bar that Nam so lovingly bar tends day in and day out, listening in and out of the conversation he makes almost every night.

“Right now isn’t the time, but you’ll see...the world will be livable again. Maybe another year or so, but we’ll be able to get off of this fucking train,” he tells you tonight, an echo of the same thing he’s been saying every night for the last two years.

“What did Curtis say?” you snicker, putting your empty glass down as he reaches for your favorite poison: whiskey.

“He’s busy,” Nam simply shrugs, refilling your glass with ice and the dark brown liquid.

“When isn’t he?”

“Y/N, you know what happened to Edgar-”

“He’s gone, Nam,” you snap unintentionally. “Whatever the hell Curtis meant to happen, didn’t. Edgar has been dead for two years and all the while we wait for the great Curtis Everett to come up with a fucking plan to make all of this not seem so shit as it is,” you sigh before downing your drink.

Your reasons for hating Curtis are very simple and clear for everyone to understand.

Everyone except Curtis.

You remember when you first boarded onto the stupid train that “saved” your life. You remember them ripping you away from your Mother, who sacrificed herself so you could have a chance at life, and her promising you that she’d meet up with you later on in the train.

She never did.

You know she only did it because she knew it was the only way you’d board the train, but the anger feel towards her never leaves.

It never has and it never will.

That was the first time you saw him.

You were put into a group of young teenage girls, a place you barely belonged since you were almost 17, and you felt a pair of eyes on you.

It’s not like that was uncommon, but it didn’t help anything. In fact, as time went on, on the train, you found that a lot of men had their eyes on you. You were beautiful, soft spoken but also opinionated, and kind. You were so understanding and helpful, unlike almost everyone else on the train who gave up hope as soon as the doors closed.

They all did their best to make you notice them, Curtis more than most, but you were more than happy to keep to yourself.

At least, that’s until Edgar came of age. While he was younger than you by a few years, he was persistent and the only one who could truly make you smile and laugh. For as tense and gloomy as things could be, Edgar always found a way to soften everything. The first few times he asked you out (well, too hangout on his bed), you said no because of the age difference.

“Who cares?” he laughed as he followed you to the little hospital section they had set up in one of the train cars.

“Clearly I do!”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Edgar-”

“What could it hurt? We’ll split a protein block, a cup of water, talk a bit, and I’ll walk you back to your bunk. It’ll be fun!”

“Edgar-”

“You know you want to, I see it in your eyes.”

“No Edgar,” you smiled softly before making your way to the children’s bunks to read them a story.

“You’ll say yes, you’ll see!” he called with a soft smile, before he turned and made his way back to his bunk.

After that, he didn’t let up. He asked almost every day until you finally caved and said yes. From that moment on, you two inseparable (after you both finished your daily chores). You loved to spend time reading to the children and he was more than happy to accompany you. The kids loved him anyway.

“What do you think about us having one?” Edgar asked one night as you two laid together after sex.

“Having one what?”

“Child?”

“Fuck no!”

“Shh,” he laughed softly, stroking your hair. “Why not?”

“You can’t be serious, babe. We live on a fucking train, the shittiest part of the train I might add, the world is frozen, the front end comes and randomly takes children whenever they please-”

“It won’t always be like this, plus, Curtis has a plan.”

“Oh? What plan is that?” you scoffed

Edgar had always been Curtis’ biggest supporter.

“Why don’t you believe in him?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in him, but I’m not willing to follow blindly behind him. Everyone else is, and I just don’t see a reason to,” you shrugged.

“Y/N-”

“You asked me a question and I gave you an answer. It’s not my fault that you don’t like the answer, baby.”

Curtis had always been the one thing that got in the way of your relationship with Edgar. Edgar would willingly follow Curtis, no matter what he said or what he did, and you weren’t buying into any of it. Sure, Curtis seemed nice enough and he was kind when he wanted to be, but there was also a silent anger to him. A silent anger that always seemed like it could go off at any time.

Plus, it’s not exactly like he was thrilled when you and Edgar started seeing each other. Once again, a lot of the men weren’t, but everyone could see how happy you were. How well you and Edgar fit together. Curtis, on the other hand, rolled his eyes whenever he saw the two of you together.

“Why don’t you come and help us tonight? You always have an idea-”

“No,” you laughed and Edgar scowled. “That’s your thing, not mine.”

“If you’d come, you’d see there’s nothing to hate about-”“I don’t hate Curtis!” you snapped softly and he rolled his eyes, “I just...something isn’t right there. You all just follow and believe everything that he says, and that’s not okay.”

“You always find a reason to doubt him and hes never given you a reason to.”

“And hes never given you a reason to trust him so much!”

“I’m not having another argument about this-”

“Good, because I’m tired of him somehow always becoming the center of our relationship.”

“Y/N-”

“You’re gonna be late. Go.”

You hated arguing so much with him about Curtis, but he didn’t know the things that you knew about him. Besides the fact that his eyes always lingered on you for far much longer than they should have, you knew about the things that Edgar was too young to remember. You knew what happened to his Mother, you knew what almost happened to Edgar, and you knew that Curtis would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

Besides, by the way he watched you like you were his prey, you knew he’d stop at nothing to get you. So, when it was finally time for the “great uprising” you begged Edgar to stay behind with you.

“We’ve spent too long planning and plotting for me to stay behind-”

“You can stay with me!” you sobbed and he shook his head.

“Trust me! Believe in me! I can do this!”

“Edgar-”

“We’ll have a future, children, space-”

“I just want you! Please-”

“I’ll come back to you and you’ll see. I promise you, it’ll be okay. I love you.”

That was the last time you saw him alive.

When word got back to you how he’d been killed, and who let it happen, something inside you snapped. You became violent, you lost all patience, you attacked anyone who got in your way as you started on your own journey to the front, and you led everyone who had stayed behind to the front of the train with you. By the time you got there, Wilford had been killed and Curtis was the new leader. Of course, no one noticed all of the changes in Curtis’ attitude, as if you all owed him your lives, because he’d apparently made your lives better. He made changes that made years of suffering finally seem like they had been worth something.

Everyone except you.

“Curtis wants to see you,” one of the girls tells you as she approaches the bar.

Sansa, who’s his regular girl.

“Just give him time,” Nam repeats softly, filling your glass one last time.

You roll your eyes and down your drink before you follow Sansa to the very front of the train.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been called to his bedroom. Hell, it isn’t even the 100th time. Not long after the battle ended and changes were made, Curtis Everette made it very well known to everyone on the train, that you are his absolute favorite. Not so much with his words, but with his actions. He’d made it seem as if it were out of honor for Edgar, but the way he watched you let you know that, that was bullshit. No, he never called you into his bed, but he also made sure to never let you get close to another man again.

He made sure you never had to work, you never wanted for anything, you always had fresh clothes waiting for you, and you had one of the best rooms on the train.

“Edgar sacrificed his life so you could have a better one. It only makes sense that you have the best of everything,” he whispered the night that he’d helped you settle into your new room.

In return, you’ve made it known that you’ll always despise him.

“What?” you snap the second you step foot inside his room.

He looks at you with his bourbon shot eyes, and you scoff. He’s in one of his moods.

“You could be a little nicer to me, Y/N.”

“Everyone on this train is nice enough to you. Now, what do you want? What’s the point of giving me a room if you never actually let me stay in it.”

“What’s wrong with you today?” he sneers, pouring himself another drink.

“You’re still here and Edgar isn’t.”

“Edgar made his choice-”

“Edgar worshiped you and blindly followed you into battle, and you couldn’t give less of a shit about what happened to him.”

“That’s not true!”

You scoff and narrow your eyes at him, “then why do you call me here every fucking night?”

“I’ve never done anything-”

“I know you’re not drunk enough to lie to me,” you warn with a snarl.

No, technically Curtis has never done anything to you, but hes found ways to...mess with you.

He’s had you stay in the rooms while hes fooled around with other women, sometimes multiple at once, if he gets drunk enough, he watches you bathe and get dressed, hes gone out of his way to show you just how badly he wants you, and he never lets you stay away from him for too long. No, he’s never forced himself on you and taken you, but hes always been just a few steps away from doing so.

With Edgar out of the way, he’s free to do whatever he pleases.

However, the problem is, Curtis wants you to want him. He wants you to burn for him just as bad as he burns for you. At one point, that would’ve been possible. It was never that you found him unattractive or unapproachable, something just always seemed...off. Now that, that’s been confirmed, you’re repulsed by the man.

Even if you do still find him painfully attractive.

A sick smirk comes to his face as he makes his way over to you, “I’ve never done anything that haven’t found yourself enjoying.” “Yes, because I love spending my nights watching fuck other women.”

“Could be you.”

“You can let go of that dream. If it never happened before, it sure as fuck isn’t gonna happen now.”

Without warning, he’s gripping your neck tight and forcing you against the wall, and you do your best to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach.

“You can pretend all you want to, but I know how bad you want it. I hear you at night when you think I’m asleep. The pathetic little moans and whimpers, and your desperate begging.”

Your eyes go wide and he chuckles darkly.

“You’re not as slick as you think, honey.”

“It’s not for you, so don’t go getting a big ego.” “It sure as shit isn’t for Edgar, even when you were fucking him regularly. He could never truly satisfy you. Not in the way you needed.” “You’re a bastard!”

“How many times did you picture me every time he fucked you, hmm? How many times do you picture me when you’re alone in that cozy little room of yours?”

You don’t know what the hell has gotten into him, because he’s never been this forceful with you before.

“Never!”

“You should be thanking me,” he growls, his grip on your neck getting tighter as he leans in close. “Maybe I should stop being so fucking nice to you and just take it.” “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“What will you do, huh? The only crying you’ll be doing is when I’m done with you and you’re begging for more of my cock.”

Of all the fucking times to be turned on.

“Curtis-”

“You fucking want it,” he continues, “even now, I know that little pussy is crying to be touched. To fucked until it’s ruined!”

You push him off of you and glare at him.

“Admit it! You orchestrated all of this so you could-”

“He knew what he was getting himself into! He knew the chance he was taking-”

“He trusted you!”

“That was his fault!”

There it is.

“So you admit it!”

“I’d do it again! Why did he deserve you but I didn’t?! I still don’t?! After all I’ve done for you?!”

“You’re monster!”

“Sticks and stones,” he smirks before pressing you against the wall again. “Maybe I should show you just how much of a monster I am.”

His lips are on yours and when you try to push him off of you, he doubles down on his efforts. Squeezing at the stitches in his other arm, he hisses in pain, dropping his glass and backs up for just a moment. He slaps you hard before going in for another kiss, but you’re quick to knee him in the groin.

“Bitch!”

You’re quick to run out and make your way to room, not sure of where else there is to hide, and before you can slide the door close, he’s pushing you in and slamming it shut behind him.

“Get out!”

“Get on the fucking bed!” “Curtis-”

“Fine, you want this to be rough? I can be as rough as you want me to be, baby,” he promises as he locks the door.

“HELP!”

“No one is going to go against me, no one is going to save you, and no one is gonna feel bad for you. Scream all you fucking want, they’ll know you’re just enjoying it,” he promises with a sinister smile.

Seeing no other way out of this, you rush him against the wall and just start hitting him with all the power you have in your body.

“I’ve never had to work for it,” he taunts, easily pushing you back. “Never had to make a bitch admit just how bad she wants me!”

“I hate you! I want nothing to do with you!”

“Is that what you’d tell yourself every time you’d make eye contact with me while he was fucking you? Looking down at me as he fucked up into you, telling you just how much he loves and adores you?” he counters, easily wrapping an arm around your waist, easily throwing you down on the bed. “When you knew I was getting off to your hushed moans? You didn’t want anything to do with me then either? You didn’t want me making you scream?”

You hate that he has a point because, to an extent, you did want one him at one point. You wanted him bad. It’s part of why you’d turn down Edgar so many times. No, you never had any intention of pursuing Curtis, but you were attracted to him. Far more than you were to Edgar, and you felt incredibly guilty about it. You would’ve been content to be alone, but Edgar never relented and you eventually found it cute.

Of course you knew what Curtis was doing whenever the two of you locked eyes, but you truly never thought he’d let Edgar get killed so he could get you. The worst part of it is, even now that you know the truth of it all, you still want Curtis. In some sick way, the fact that he did something so horrible just to have you all to himself drove you insane in the worst way. You aren’t losing the fight because he’s overpowering you, you’re losing the fight because you’re tired of fighting it.

“Don’t get quiet on me now,” he snickers as pulls his top off and throws it across the room. “Don’t tell me that you’re a filthy little liar,” he presses as he rips your top open.

“Leave me alone!” “No, I’m done waiting around,” he husks, pulling your bra down. “Fuck!”

“Curtis-”

“You’re gonna shut the fuck up and you’re gonna enjoy everything daddy has to offer you,” he warns before dipping down and enveloping his right breast in his mouth; lewdly licking and sucking on it in the most depraved way.

“O-oh! Curtis!”

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by anyone else.

“That’s right,” he mumbles before nipping on your nipple, while his other hand works on undoing your jeans, “I know exactly what you need, you little bitch.”

Your breathing comes heavier as his hand makes its way down into your panties, finding your overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“You’re fucking soaked!”

“Stop-”

“Stop fucking fighting me!” he warns, his other hand making it’s way around your throat. “You fucking want it! You’ve always fucking wanted it!”

You’re not sobbing because he’s doing something wrong, you’re sobbing because he’s right. Edgar would probably be alive if you’d just kept saying no to him.

“That’s right, baby. Just let me take care of you,” he moans, easily sliding a finger into you.

“Curtis,” you moan, bucking your hips forward.

“So beautiful, baby,” he coos, finally giving your other nipple attention, “waited so fucking long!”

“Oh fuck!”

You do your best to block out all images of Edgar and every feeling of guilt you felt. For whatever reason, Curtis wasn’t letting you go tonight and you didn’t want him to.

“You can barely take two fingers,” he groans, adding another thick finger to your sopping cunt as you rake your nails across his back. “Gonna have to get you ready for me. God, these fucking tits!” he husks.

“Please!” you whimper, feeling both pleasure and pain at the way he’s pulling you apart, “don’t fucking stop!”

“We’re gonna be at this a while,” he promises with a smirk as he picks up his pace.

He resumes his assault on your left nipple for just a bit longer, before he finally starts leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your body, pulling your pants down along the way.

You’ve never had a guy go down on you before. Before you’d been put on the train, you’d only had sex twice and the both of you were inexperienced. When you were with Edgar, you two weren’t free to explore much. The most you’d been able to do was give him a blowjob, even that was uncomfortable.

“So fuckin’ pretty for me,” Curtis purrs against your pussy lips, “been waitin’ for me.”

The first lick is just a tease and you whine in protest, the second is right against your clit and whine his name as you dig your nails into his shoulders, and with the third he’s finally diving right in and claiming you as his own with his tongue.

“Oh God! Don’t fucking stop!” you beg pathetically, your legs starting to tremble as he massages your clit with his thumb. “Fuck!”

The sounds of his of his pornographic moans and roughness of his beard on your thighs somehow make you even more feral, and you can’t resist looking down. The sight of him buried between your legs has you biting on your bottom lip to keep from screaming. As if he can sense your feral gaze on him, you he looks up with a devilish glint in his ocean blue eyes, which have now darkened with twinges of desire and lust, as he starts fucking you faster with his tongue.

Your mouth hangs open and you’re right on the edge when he removes his tongue.

“What the fuck?!” you cry out and he chuckles darkly.

“I shouldn’t fucking let you cum at all,” he bites as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, causing you to buck your hips forward, “but I’m gonna get this tight little pussy ready for me,” he promises again.

The intrusion of a third finger has you throwing your head back in both pleasure and pain, and you try to push his hand away.

“None of that, fucking take it! Take it and then you’re gonna take my fucking cock,” he demands gruffly, applying more pressure to your clit with his thumb.

“Ngh- too much! Curtis please!”

“Then fucking cum! What, you don’t know how? Was it really that bad with him?” he taunts with a condescending chuckle.

You shouldn’t clench around his fingers the way you do at that.

“Not such a fucking saint after all, huh? Just a hungry little cock whore. Say it,” he demands lowly.

Biting down on your lip to keep quiet, you shake your head ‘no’.

Slapping one of your tits hard, he repeats, “say it!”

“ ‘m a cock whore!” you cry out, squirting hard and coating his wrist.

That’s new.

“Jesus fuck,” he growls.

He fucks you through your high, lapping up the mess you made, while you try to come down from your high. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know how wrong all of this is, but you can’t focus on that right now. The pleasure is all consuming, and you can’t think on anything other than how much you want Curtis.

How, in some dark and twisted way, you’ve always wanted Curtis.

The sound of him unzipping his pants brings you back to reality, and you know you’re going to hate yourself in the morning. Hell, you hate yourself now.

“Don’t ever make me fight this fucking hard for you again, you understand me?” he warns, kicking his jeans and boxers off of him and your bed.

You watch him with wide eyes and it’s as if he can read your mind.

“Don’t you dare try and fucking run from me now. You’re mine, you’ve always been mine, and you’ll always be mine.”

He takes his angry red cock in his hand, stoking it a few times, before dipping down and kissing you like you’d finally been returned to him after years of being held captive. The taste of you and whiskey mix together perfectly, intoxicating you, and you moan into his mouth, as both of your tongues fight for dominance.

“You are mine,” he broods once you two break apart as he spears himself inside of you.

“Shit!”

He lets out a strangled groan, “gonna make you feel better than you ever have before!”

He’s relentless as he fucks into you, knowing exactly what you need as you trail kisses down his neck.

“Y/N,” he whines when you find that spot on the crook of his neck, biting down on it hard before using your tongue to soothe the pain. “Fuck! What a good girl,” he praises and you flutter around his cock. “My pretty girl likes that? Being my good fuckin girl?”

You’ve never been so full in your life and the only response you can muster is a pathetic moan, sucking even harder on his neck.

“That’s right, baby. Mark me up...make sure they know I’m yours,” he growls, using one hand to pin your waist down, while the other pins your hands down to the bed above your head.

You don’t even care that he’s using you as his own personal rag doll, because you need it. You both need it. So many years of anger, frustration, and denial have finally come to a head, and it feels good.

It feels so fucking good.

“Oh God! Daddy!” you cry out, wrapping a leg around his waist as he finds a spot within you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuck, there it is!”

“Too much!”

“No it’s not, you’re gonna make a mess for me again,” he demands as his movements start to become erratic.

The hand he’s using to pin your waist to the bed travels down between the both of you, and you let out a choked sob as he starts to massage your clit.

“So beautiful, baby. Love you so fucking much,” he grunts, and you’re not sure if he means you or your pussy.

Your mind is so full of fog that you truly don’t give a fuck.

You turn your head away as you feel the knot in your core tighten and he whines, “look at me...waited so long, let me see you, baby. C’mon...let daddy see you come apart.”

Forcing your gaze on him, there’s something equally soft in his feral blue eyes, and you know you’re done for. No matter what you feel in the morning, you’ll want this again and again.

You’ll want him again and again.

A silent scream leaves your mouth as your orgasm washes over you, the leg around his waist falling to the side as you make a mess between the both of you.

“That’s a good girl...milk my fat fuckin’ cock, baby,” he groans, resting his forehead against yours as he paints your inner walls with his love.

Well, you’ve fucking done it now.

He peppers soft kisses from your forehead to your cheek, as he rides out both of your highs, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he finally releases your arms. When he finally stills within you, half hard, you let your arms fall to your sides and close your eyes, feeling more full and desired than ever before.

Feeling more guilt than you ever have before.

You’re almost asleep when you hear, “clean daddy off, honey. We’re just getting started.”

He chuckles when he looks down at the confused look on your face.

“I told you: we’re gonna be at this for a while.”

You’re not sure what the hell has gotten into him, and why he’s so forceful tonight, but he keeps you up for hours in positions you’ve never even dreamed of. Exhausting your body over and over again, his lips covering every inch of your body that they can, and his hands exploring every part of you. It feels like heaven, and there’s a pitiful shame that washes over you with each orgasm. You lose count of how many times he tells you he loves you, and how perfect he thinks you are for him, and soon you’re just a mindless doll ready and willing to do anything he wants. You’ll give him anything as long as he continues to lessen the embarrassment that’s come with you finally giving yourself to him.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts from behind as you lull your head back, “ride daddy’s dick just like that. Like a fucking cowgirl!”

“Ngh!”

“I know you’re tired,” he coos against your neck, his beard making you shutter as he strarts groping your breasts with both hands, “gonna fill your perfect little pussy one more time, I promise!”

The thought of you leaking with his release again has you clenching around him.

“You love being so full of me, don’t you?”

You just nod as you grip his thick thighs, digging your nails into them.

“I know, baby. Just needed daddy to show you who’s boss, didn’t you? Too ashamed to accept what I was so willing to give you,” he moans, kissing your neck as one of his hands travels between your thighs.

“DADDY!”

“So loud for me and I fucking love it! You’d never be this fuckin’ loud for him, would you?”

You lazily shake your head ‘no’.

“Didn’t deserve you...he couldn’t make you happy like I can. Like I always will,” he promises as he slaps your cunt.

That’s all it takes. You scream his name as your body spasms and you make a mess for what feels like the millionth time. He pulls you close, filling you to the brim, as your body relaxes against his.

“What a good girl,” he praises softly, his own breathing shallow as he guides your waist to ride out both of your orgasms.

You’ve never been so exhausted in your life.

You honestly have no control over your body at this point, so Curtis has to guide you off of him and onto the bed. You flinch when you feel some sort of fabric between your legs, cleaning you up.

“I know you’re sensitive, just a few more moments, baby,” he coos.

Well, he’s certainly much happier now that you’re a useless and mindless mess.

You feel the bed dip from behind you as he gets in, pulling the cover over the both of you before pulling you close to him. The fight that’s left in you isn’t enough to kill an ant. Instead, you just relax against him as you drift off into unconsciousness, hoping that all of this is just a very strong dream crafted from loneliness and desire.

The last thing you hear before you succumb to darkness is, “I love you.”

“Y/N,” a soft voice calls as a pair of hands shake your gently.

You blink a few times, coming back to reality and trying to separate your dreams from reality.

“Y/N? Curtis wants to see you in his room.”

Curtis.

All of a sudden the pain in your face and body catapult you back into reality. Shame washes over you, as well as an intense amount of guilt, and you curl into yourself. God, how could you give into him? How could you get off to some of the cruel and lewd things he said? What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Y/N? Did you hear me? Curtis-”

“No,” you respond softly, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

“He told me not to take ‘no’ for an answer,” the woman responds mournfully.

You say nothing, silently crying to yourself and wishing you were anywhere else. Wishing you could get away from your one true forbidden desire.

“Y/N, please,” the woman begs.

It’s not lost on you that she’ll more than likely have hell to pay, but you can’t face him. The more memories come flooding back, the more you want to the train to swallow you whole. To add insult to injury, arousal pools between your legs as desire takes over your body. What the hell came over the both of you last night, and why did you let it win? There was a time that you would’ve fought till the last breath in your body to keep Curtis off of you, but last night, you barely put up that much of a fight. You didn’t want to.

You hear your drawers open and what you assume are clothes landing on your bed, and you just pull the cover over your head. He got what he wanted out of you, so why can’t he leave you alone? What else could he want from you?

‘I love you.’

There’s no possible way he could’ve meant that. He was drunk. He treats every other woman on this train like his own personal pleasure toy, so what makes you any different? So special?

“What did I tell you last night about making me fight for you?”Curtis sighs as he walks into your room, closing the door shut behind him.

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even heard the woman leave.

When you say nothing, he pulls the cover from you, “come on, Y/N. Don’t make me get forceful.”

You just pull your legs tighter to yourself and cry harder.

“What?”

“Please...just go away.”

“Y/N-” “You did it on purpose, Curtis. He loved you and you just...”

“You didn’t seem to mind that confession so much last night.”

“Which makes me just as awful as you if not worse,” you sob, once again realizing just how terrible you are.

Edgar loved you unconditionally and you let the man responsible for his death fuck you like a beast, willingly giving him orgasm after orgasm.

“Honey,” Curtis tries to reason, going to touch your arm, but you pull away.

It’s insane how you can long for and hate someone’s touch so much at the same time.

Letting out another frustrated sigh, he pulls the cover back over your body and steps away, “fine.”

You can hear the pain in his voice, but he should feel like garbage. You both should. The sliding door to your room opens and closes again, and you’re finally on your own again. As you continue to cry, you if you’ll ever know peace again. If you aren’t, how long will it take you to allow yourself the comfort of Curtis?

Curtis’ P.O.V.

What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s not the first time I’ve gotten drunk and tormented you, but to attack you like that? Confess the truth in such a condescending way? Of course you want nothing to do with me now that the fog has cleared. Yes, what I did was fucked up, but I’ve been right about you since day one.

You wanted me all along.

It’s not like I didn’t care for Edgar, and he deserved more from me, but he didn’t deserve you. Watching him with you was like a knife to the chest every day. Hearing your moans and whimpers every night that he was inside you? Those were mine. They were for me. That’s why you always kept your eyes focused on me. You knew it just as well as I did. Maybe you’re the real monster in all of this, because you used him just as much as I envied him.

You weren’t happy, you were never going to leave him, so I took charge. I didn’t expect for any of it to work out like it did, but it did nonetheless. I figured if I gave you enough time and space, you’d come to me, but my patience could only last so long. Venting to Nam night after night only helped so much.

Two fucking years.

Two years of me watching you, two years of me making every other man on board afraid to get close to you, two years of me being a lesser version of myself...two years and you still never cracked. I have a fucking train to take care of, I couldn’t keep spending all of my time and energy just trying make you jealous enough to give him.

I was all set to let it go and let you do whatever the hell you wanted, until I walked past your train cart yesterday morning.

“Fuck Curtis...fuck me just like that,” you whimpered so softly, I thought I imagined it.

Looking into your room made me cum instantly. You were completely naked, eyes closed, head lulled back, and riding your pillow. You’d never looked so fucking hot before, and that was my name leaving your mouth. Not Edgar’s, mine. I no longer needed you to fucking say you were mine, but you’d just confirmed it.

“Gonna cum so soon, daddy! Fuck!”

I couldn’t get it out of my mind, and my frustration wouldn’t leave my body. Why the hell were you fighting something you so desperately wanted?

Because you’re not a monster at all.

Even without my confession, you’d always known the truth. I could’ve saved Edgar, but I didn’t. I made a million excuses as to why I couldn’t, and everyone believed them. Everyone except you. Of course you wouldn’t allow yourself to be with me. Not without force. So, after I finished up everything I needed to take care, I got drunk. I had planned on being level headed, but you came in with that fucking attitude, and I fucking lost it.

How the hell were you annoyed with me? I made sure you had the best life, and you were still ungrateful. Once again, I could’ve saved Edgar, but you wouldn’t have left him. You would’ve married him and had his fucking his kids, and what right did he have to you? What right do any of the guys on this hell hole have to you? None of them will ever love you like I do, they’re not gonna satisfy you like I do, and they’re never gonna care for you like I do.

You just needed to be shown, so I decided that I was done waiting. I knew you’d put up a fight, but I didn’t expect it to get me so worked up. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard, but you were being difficult. Squeezing the stitches in my arm? You knew better than that. It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped, but when you finally surrendered, it was more than worth it. You were a fucking dream, better than anything I’d ever had or imagined.

How could I feel bad about Edgar when I finally had you right where I wanted you? Where I’d always wanted you. I didn’t have to say all of things I did, but we both knew they were true. You’d always wanted me, he’d never truly satisfied you, and you’d always wanted me. Whatever your reasons were for choosing him over me didn’t matter anymore, because you finally admitted everything. Yeah, it bothered me that you never said ‘I love you’ back, but I also know I can’t have everything I want at once. I know you do, and when you’re ready, you’ll admit that too.

“She’s not here,” Nam says softly, pulling me out of my thoughts as he enters.

“No, she’s back to hating me,” I mutter with an eye roll. “I did everything wrong.”

“Did you explain?”

“Nope, I did the exact opposite. I took what I wanted and expected her to fall in line.”

He lets out an irritated sigh as he runs a hand through his hair, “Curtis.”

“Yeah, I fucking know, alright?”

“What now?”

“I’ll go back and see her tonight. I’ll talk to her. She loves me, she just needs some encouragement to see it. To admit it.”

“Be gentle, Curtis. You get angry and you don’t think.”

He’s not wrong.

“Did you hurt her?”

“We both hurt each other, but it’s not like she didn’t like it.”

“Is that what happened to your arm?” he asks, pointing to the bruise.

I scoff with a nod, “yeah, little devil.”

“She’s tough, I’ll give her that,” he laughs, taking Kronole out of his pocket.

“Will you stop with that shit?!”

“You beat women, I get high,” he shrugs.

“I don’t beat women,” I quickly counter, trying to keep a lid on my anger.

I really didn’t mean to hit you so fucking hard. Fuck.

He just rolls his eyes, “Should I send Yona to look after her?”

“No, we have work to do and we need Yona and her ability. I’ll send one of the girls to check on her and give her food.”

I know I should be the one to do it but with how you were this morning, I know we’re basically right back where we started.

“Curtis, should I send for Y/N again?” Sansa asks, poking her head in, disdain dripping into her words.

I can see the pain in her eyes, but I can’t bring myself to feel bad. She may be a regular, but she always knew she wasn’t permanent. All of them know.

“I’ll see to her later. Make sure no one comes in except Yona,” I instruct dismissively.

“Yes sir.”

Yeah, I’m an asshole, but I’m an asshole who’s in love with and made better by you. The sooner you see that, the sooner things will be as they should. In time, you’ll see.

In time, you’ll understand.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Here, take mine,” a deep soft voice told you.

You looked over to your right to see that Curtis had taken a seat next to you, and he was holding out his protein block.

You shook your head and pushed it away, “oh no, it’s perfectly fine-”

“You’re hungry-”

“What will you eat?”

“I don’t like the way they taste,” he shrugged.

You laughed to yourself, “no one likes the way they taste.”

“Won’t haunt you like the taste of human flesh though.”

He had a point there.

“Go on, take it,” he offered again.

“You have to eat something. We’re all barely hanging on as it is.”

“Y/N-”

You offered him a half smile, “we can split it.”

He contemplated your offer before he nodded, “deal.”

You miss that Curtis. The one who showed remorse for his actions, cared about those around him, and was actually trying to help everyone and not just himself. Ever since Gilliam took him under his wing, there was an heir of arrogance to him, and it made you want him that much less. It got worse after Edgar got killed and Gilliam soon followed.

God, how could you still fuck him after his confession? If anything, that should’ve made you fight harder. Instead, in a sick way, it turned you on even more because it showed you just how much he wanted you. How much he’d do to make sure you’d always be his and his alone.

Maybe being on the train for so damn long that it’s fucked with you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just that awful.

The servers have been trying to feed you all day, but the only thing you’ve consumed is alcohol. It’s the only thing that’ll keep demons and thoughts of self-hatred at bay. Plus, for as much as you shouldn’t, you do feel bad for Curtis. The man told you he loves you a handful of times last night, brought you to euphoric bliss time and time again, and you let him hold you close last night, just so you could ice him out today.

As much as you don’t want to believe that the mad man loves you, somewhere deep down inside, you know it’s true. A man doesn’t let the closest person he has to a best friend die over someone he doesn’t love. Yes, you knew Edgar could get on his nerves sometimes, but never enough for Curtis ever want something truly awful to happen to him. It’s not like you ever meant for things to become a sick and twisted games, but they had and the end result was the sweetest man you’d ever known getting killed.

All of this was your fault.

“You haven’t eaten today,” a soft voice rings out, stepping into your room.

“Please go, Curtis. You got what you wanted. Just go, I’m sure Sansa and the others will be happy to keep you company tonight.”

He sits down in front of you and takes your face in his hands, “I don’t love Sansa and the others.”

“Curtis-”

“Why have you been crying all day?”

You’re more than sure the look on your face screams, ‘really?’.

“It’s not like it was something you didn’t already know-”

“Stop being so fucking callous about it!”

“Why? I’d do it again, honey. I have no problem admitting that. If I had to do it all over again, I would without hesitation.”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?!”

“I love you, Y/N. I think I’ve made that pretty clear for some time now, and I’m not going to watch you be with some other man. I don’t give a fuck who that man is.”

“You can literally have whoever else you want-”

You yelp when he effortlessly picks you up and pulls you into his lap.

“The world could be the way it’s supposed to be and I still wouldn’t want anyone else. You were meant for me and I was meant for you. If people have to die for you to understand that, then so be it. I will never love anyone the way I love you, so stop thinking that this is just some fling to me,” he warns, his gaze on you tense and serious.

His words should make you afraid of him but, instead, they make you want him more than you did the night before.

“You don’t-”

“Who else do you want me to make disappear, hmm? How do I make you believe me?”

“Curtis...stop.”

“I love you.”

“That’s not love-”

“Why should I go about this the normal way? We’ve all had to fight to stay here, and I’m willing to fight for you. I will always fight for you because you’re mine, just like I’m yours. I love you.”

For now, you’ll just blame the alcohol as you lean in and kiss him softly. Just like the night before, he runs one of his hands through your hair and grips it tight as he deepens the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you as close as possible.

He broods against your lips once you two break apart, “that’s right, baby. You’ll always be mine.”

“This isn’t right-” “Who gives a fuck about right and wrong when it feels this fucking good?”

“Curtis...”

“Just give into me,” he pleads before kissing you again, “give into me because you love me just as much as I love you.”

Once again, the fight leaves your body and you’re just giving into what you want. You kiss him deeply as your legs wrap around his waist, grinding against him.

“That’s it honey,” he breathes with a moan, the tip of his nose ghosting over the outline of your cheek. “I won’t take anything you don’t wanna give me. Just like last night.”

You know good and damn well he’s saying that because last night he did force himself on you, but you both knew you were desperate for it. You both know you’ve been desperate for him for a while. It’s evident that he wants you to acknowledge that, but he’s gonna need to work a little harder for that.

“If you truly love me, then show me,” you sigh as he bites and sucks on your neck. “Show me how much you need me to be yours.”

You must have awakened something feral in him because, instantly, he’s picking you up and standing up with almost no effort at all, and carrying you out of your room, quickly make his way towards his. Part of you wants to protest, because you’ve seen what he’s done with other women in his bed, but another part of you is desperate for it because it is his bed. Anyone else who was on it before you won’t ever matter again, because you’re all he needs.

He growls as he tosses you onto his bed, “take your fucking shirt off before I rip it off.”

You honestly don’t need much prompting. Between the amount of alcohol coursing through you, and the desire that you’ve been suppressing for years, you’re once again willing and ready to do anything that he wants. You whimper when he pulls his off and tosses it to the side, quickly getting to work on undoing his pants.

Yeah, you’re still sore from yesterday, but the pleasure always outweighs. You’ll take aspirin after.

“I thought I already fucking showed you,” he husks roughly, fitting your legs around his waist once on the bed and on his haunches. “I didn’t get my point across last night?”

You bite your lip and shake your head no, holding his gaze as you wrap your arms around him.

He smirks as that devilish glint comes back to his eyes, “let me be firmer this time,” forcing you down on his cock.

“AH SHIT!”

He keeps a firm hold on your waist as he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock, “you’re mine, Y/N. Always have been and you always will be!”

You cry out as you lull your head back, “oh fuck, daddy!”

“Eyes on me, baby. Gonna make sure it sinks in this time,” he chuckles darkly.

Honestly, all you can do is hold on to him, and he doesn’t even make that easy. He spits on your cunt a few times before easily wrapping one arm behind your waist to keep you in place, and shamelessly slapping your clit with the other hand.

“Please....please!”

His condescending chuckle only makes you clench around him, “fucking pathetic.”

He dips down, the tip of his tongue lightly licking between your breasts and moaning as he licks up the sweat, before latching his mouth onto your right nipple and sucking on it as if it’s his favorite lollipop to exist.

You whimper, feeling safe in his strong hold, as you run a hand through his buzzed hair, “feels so good, daddy! The way you love me feels so good!”

Releasing your nipple with a ‘pop’, he looks up with brooding dark eyes, “and no one else will ever make it feel this good,” he promises.

Without warning, he starts massaging your clit with more pressure than you’re prepared for, and you’re screaming out his name as you make a mess between the both of you.

“So messy and all mine,” he praises, his voice strained as continues to fuck up into you. “Always been all mine, haven’t you?”

Once again, you’ve been turned into a mindlessly babbling toy.

“No answer?” he taunts, his breathing as he stops all together, laughing sadistically at your pathetic whimper. “Guess daddy still hasn’t made his point clear.”

He drops you down onto the bed, flips you over with ease, fixes your knees so your ass is propped in the air, before thrusting himself inside of you again.

“Aht!”

“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” he growls, fucking into hard and fast.

You just whimper into his pillow as claw at his bed, but he isn’t having that. Wrapping one arm around your waist and snaking it up between your breasts, he grips your throat while the other hand grips your hair tight, and he pulls you right.

“Use your fucking words,” he demands gruffly, fucking into you harder, “you’ve always been mine?”

“Y-yes!”

“Yes who?”

“Y-yes...y-y-yes daddy!”

“Always gonna be mine?”

“A-an-anything you w-want!”

He growls into your neck as you feel him spill into you, “fuck baby!”

Once again, there’s nothing going through your mind but fog and your body is exhausted. If he wants more from you, you’ll give it to him, but you can honestly fall asleep in his hold right now. He loosens his grip on your neck, and you take a deep breath, not even realizing how tight he’d been holding onto you. Lazily fucking you both through your high, he presses small, wet, open mouthed kisses along your neck.

His breath comes heavy and he sounds just as tired as you feel, “get the message this time?”

You nod as weakly attempt to fight off sleep, “mhm, you love me.”

The next question comes with a hint of fear, “do you believe me?”

“Mhm, yes.”

“Do you love me?”

The answer comes effortlessly, “yes Curtis.”

He’s gentle with you as he pulls out, growling as he watches the mix of your juices run down your thighs, and he lays you down. Once again, you wince when some fabric gently wipes over your extremely raw and sensitive flesh, and he gently hushes you. This time, when he gets in bed with you, you’re pulling him close and resting your head on his chest.

You’re too tired to fight it.

“I love you,” you repeat before effortlessly falling asleep.

Once again, when you make up, you need a moment to adjust to your surroundings. The soreness is quicker to make your acquaintance this time, and you remember that you’re in Curtis’ room.

The very front of the train.

That’s when you realize you’re alone in his bed, and you’re slow to sit up and look around.

“I’m here,” he calls softly.

You look to the side and see him sitting across the room, sweatpants on only, hunched over, and resting his head on his hands.

“You should lay back down, I’m sure you’re sore.”

You keep your eyes on him as you slowly lay back down, “what’s wrong?”

He’s not wrong about you being sore.

“Nothing-”

Scoffing as you prop yourself up on your elbow and rest your head on your hand, “you’re gonna start lying to me after the last two days we’ve spent together?” and he laughs softly.

“It doesn’t matter right now-”

“Curtis, what’s wrong?”

There’s a softness to his features, and it’s a softness you haven’t seen in a long time.

“I love you.”

You look down and play with the hem of the bed sheet.

“That’s the problem right there.”

“Curtis-” He sighs as he sits up, “I’m not complaining.”

“It’s not so easy for me, okay?”

“It was last night when you were drunk, and I fucking knew better. I knew better, but my emotions...” “There’s a lot that I have to come to terms with, and I’ve only had two days to do it.”

“Well, do you?” “Curtis-”

“It’s a simple yes or no question-”

“It’s not simple! I was with Edgar, and no matter how I may or may not have always felt about you, I did love him and you let him get killed. No, I’m not innocent in all of this, but he loved and trusted him and you betrayed him.”

“That was different-” “How? How am I supposed to know you won’t ever do something like that to me?”

“Because this is different! This isn’t even remotely close...since I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were meant for me, and I for you. I may have been 17, but I’d never been so sure of anything in my life. I still haven’t been,” he states, slightly hurt that you would even make a claim like that. “I know what I did was fucked up, that’s not lost on either of us, and I’ve done my best to show and prove to you that I’m sorry, because it wasn’t right. Edgar didn’t know, but you did. You knew and you felt the same for me.”

“Curtis-”

“Well you did, you can deny it all you want, but we both know it’s true.”

“It doesn’t matter-” “Well, why you’d pick him?”

You scowl and lay on your back, “you don’t want the honest answer to that question.” “I can handle it.” “Lets not-”

“Just tell me!’

“I really don’t think I need to, Curtis! There’s something wrong with you! Something in you is unhinged and it shows!” you snap, sitting up and facing him.

He sits back and lets out a heavy sigh, and it breaks your heart, but he’s the one who wants to know so bad.

When he says nothing, you continue, “there’s something that flips a switch in you, and this darkness comes over you. You’re moody, argumentative, and violent. Anything can set it off and, while I get it to an extent, enough shit had happened and I didn’t want to deal with it. You would be so soft with me at times, but you could easily lose your temper with anyone else...with the exception of Gilliam. Edgar was kind, funny, and sweet. No, it wasn’t ideal, but I felt safe with him and I didn’t have to worry about him losing his shit on me. So yes, I had feelings for you, but I chose him. I know you took him under your wing out of guilt, but you were also jealous. The more he trusted you, the more you took advantage of that. It made me resent him. Then, when he went off with you for the uprising, I knew he wasn’t coming back. You wouldn’t let him.”

You can see the anger in his eyes, but he knows that he can’t call you a liar. Everything you’re saying is true and he’s not about to try and make a fool out of you.

“I did it for you,” he responds after a moment. “You don’t have to believe it, and I know you didn’t see it, but I did it for you. I’ve always wanted to keep you safe, take care of you, and have you by my side. Everything I’ve done has been for you, and while some of it has been less than humane, I’d do it again if it meant you could be happy. If it means you can have a better life, I’ll do it, and I don’t care who I have to hurt.”

“Curtis-”

“I don’t care how crazy any of it sounds, because you have to be crazy to survive in this world. I’d do anything to give you a better life and see you happy. I love you, Y/N,” he tells you softly and sincerely.

You shouldn’t feel an overwhelming amount or love and joy for him, but that doesn’t stop it from washing over you. Is there a shrink on this fucking train, because you both need your fucking heads examined.

“I’ll ask you again, do you love me?”

Slipping out before you have a chance to stop it, “yes. Yes Curtis, I love you.”

Your heart swells at the small smile that comes to his face, as he finally gets up and makes his way back to the bed, and gets in next to you. You ignore the shameful amount of guilt that overcomes you, because what happened in the past can’t be changed. All that counts is right now and the future you and Curtis will create together.

You rest your head on his chest and make little circles it, “how are you so sure, Curtis?”

“So sure of what?” he asks, stroking your shoulder and finally relaxing.

“That you love me. How do you know it’s not just an overwhelming sense of lust?”

He laughs to himself and kisses the top of your head, “because when all the fog in my mind settles, there’s still a burning desire for you in my heart. A burning desire to protect you, make you happy, hear your voice, see you smile, and to love you until there’s no breath left in my body. When the fog clears, there’s always a desire to love you with everything I have in me.”

Pressing a soft kiss to his chest, you look up at him, “I’m sorry it took me so long to finally get here.”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry, just promise to never leave.”

“I promise.”

“I love you, honey.”

“I love you, Curtis.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

Overdue

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, age gap, power imbalance, violence, name calling, 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: The library is supposed to be a quiet place. (plus sized reader)

Characters: Curtis Everett

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

Note: This is another part to my campus AU! Have 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. 💖

You plunk your bag on the counter, barely saving your stack of books from avalanching over the edge. It’s late, the library’s mostly empty, the way you like it.

You yawn, spent from hours in the lecture hall, crammed into the stiff chairs as you hunched over a screen. You just want to go lay down and forget it all but your Friday night sacrifice will let you sleep in on Saturday.

You keep the plastic container from slipping off your canvas bag, trying to sort out the chaos. You glance around as you set the tupperware down flat. There’s no one there. You hit the little button that chimes in a plea for assistance.

You wait and tap your fingers frantically on the lid. Somehow, you’re always hunkered down with a million different things. The living embodiment of a mess.

You check the time on the square clock and go to push the button again. There’s still fifteen minutes before service hours end.

“Don’t,” the dark voice frightens you as the librarian emerges from the backroom, “I hate that noise.”

“Oh, sorry,” you rub your neck.

“Self-checkout is open,” he points to the screen and scanners across the rounded counter.

“I… guess. I’m sorry.”

He tidies the stack of books and methodically scans beneath the cover of each, edging your bag out of his way as he does. His blue eyes stare past you as he doesn’t even look, working entirely out of habit.

He puts the scanner down, “card?”

You feel around your jacket then curse at yourself. You dig inside your knapsack and pull out your wallet with the strawberries all over. His gaze falls to you, then to your clutter on the counter.

“No food,” he says.

“Oh,” you hand over the card and catch the container before it tips over the edge, “I wasn’t… eating. I brought them for my class by no one wanted any.”

He nods and hums as he puts your card and the receipt for your loans on top of the books.

“You want one?” you offer brightly, not wanting to waste your hard work, or the ingredients. “They’re Halloween themed. The ghost is made of cream cheese icing and Dracula has chocolate hair–” you take off the lid as he frowns, his lips part as if stunned.

“Dude, that sounds yummy,” you flinch as another figure sidles over from down the counter. You didn’t hear or see him approach.

“What do you want, Jake?” The librarian grumbles.

“A cupcake if it’s on offer,” he steps closer.

“Um, sure,” you hold out the tray.

“Oh, I want Frankenstein,” he plucks up the green cupcake, “thanks.”

“That’s pistachio,” you tell him.

“Ooo,” his eyes round, “lighten up, Curt, that spider has your name on it.”

“I don’t eat… sweets. And it’s Curtis.”

“Bull,” the other man rolls his eyes. Jake, he called him, “here,” he takes the cupcake with the black widow spinning its web, “he gets hangry, he needs it.”

“No problem,” you pop the lid back on, “um, thanks… er, for the books.”

The librarian, Curtis, turns without acknowledging the proffered cupcake or his friend. Jake gives you an apologetic smile and follows, “hey, wait up, I’m here to fix the cataloguing issue. Jesus, bro,” he pauses, speaking again through a mouthful, “the cupcake is so good. You don’t want me to eat it for you–”

The door cuts off the rest of the conversation as you try to fit the books into your bag. You thought people would love the idea of free food.

It’s like Muse said, you’re not in high school anymore. Your roommate, the wacky and rarely wise. Speaking of, she’ll probably be waiting for you.

📕

“I just need to drop these books off then we can head over,” you say to Muse as she tries to get the buttons on her coat straight, “you don’t have anything with a zipper?”

“I like this one!” she preens as she fluffs the peplum at the waist, “it’s cute.”

“It’s cold,” you rub your cheek as you push through the door into the library lobby.

“I’ve never been in here before,” she chimes as she looks around. Your clueless roommate somehow surprises you and doesn’t, even with that statement. “It’s so… quaint. Reminds me of the Parthenon, those old paintings from the fifteenth century of a bygone era…”

That really throw you off and you give her a sideways look. Among her rambling and mindless wandering, she sometimes drops some gems of knowledge which prove her time at college isn’t entirely wasted. An artist, she flits between one thing and the next.

“Of course you haven’t,” you chuckle, “are you sure you wanna do trivia night?”

“Three dollar cocktails!” she trills, “I don’t care if I win.”

“Mm,” you nod as you pass through the gates into the main floor of the library.

“Plus, you’re on my team. You know everything.”

“You only say that because I can use the extinguisher,” you push through the plastic barrier, brushing against the side clumsily.

“Oh, look at this!” she bounces over to the bust of Socrates on a plinth beside the ‘submit a question’ box.

“Muse,” you grumble, “don’t get lost–”

“I won’t,” she waves you off as she angles around, admiring the sculpture.

You sigh and head over to the counter. The same man, Curtis, who loaned you the books was there, glasses low on his nose as he reads a blank hardcover. You clear your throat as you put the pile on the counter. You smile as you try to get his attention, waving at him.

“Leave em there,” he says without looking up.

“Um, okay,” you utter, “sorry.”

You frown and turn to look around. Where is Muse? Somehow she always does this.

“Curty Boy,” another familiar voice calls and you look over at Jake as he comes out of the backroom, “I think you need to put in for a new PC. That thing’s about to give out.”

“Are you still here?” Curtis sniffs and flips a page.

“All the babes hang out in the library,” he chuckles.

You wrinkle your nose, kind skeezy. You shrug and search around, jumping as Muse scares you, latching onto your arm.

“Hey, nerd, you ready to go or what?”

“Sure,” you try to shake her off, “what’s the hurry?”

“Definitely didn’t break anything,” she announces guiltily.

“What?” you hear Curtis’ gritty voice and the squeak of his chair.

“Oh boy,” Jake mutters and you look back as he fixes his glasses, staring at Muse as she looks around nervously, “hi.” He gives a pathetic wave which she doesn’t even notice.

“Alright, let’s go,” you grab her hand like a child and pull her away from the counter.

“I swear, I didn’t touch,” she keeps her voice down, “I was looking and it all happened so fast–”

You hush her as you pass back into the lobby between the alarms, “I don’t want to know.”

📕

You stand in line at the cafe and check the time. Early but you don’t expect the same as your study buddy.

You’re not quite sure how you got drawn into this, maybe you take pity on all the wrong sorts. That might explain Muse but that wasn’t really sympathy, she’s fun. Johnny is anything but. Or at least, not your kind of fun.

You take your matcha brew and thank the barista. You hike up your bag and keep your head down as you enter the library. The desk is as vacant as ever but your last run-in with the grumpy librarian makes you evasive. You take the stairs to the third level and text Johnny where you are as you settle in.

You put your bag on the seat and leave your tea on the table as you venture along the shelves. Restless after hours of lectures, you listlessly browse the spines. You hear the creaky wheels of a cart and barely avoid it as it turns the corner.

It’s him. Curtis.

He doesn’t say anything as you move over to let him replace several books in the rows. You play with the tail of your scarf. You can’t get past him, you’ll have to go around. You slowly inch away, trying to seem casual.

“You’re a good baker,” his deep tone halts you as your mouth falls open at his unexpected compliment.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, the cupcake was good,” he picks up a tablet as the screen reflects in his glasses and he taps it bluntly.

“You tried it?” you can’t help a smile.

“Mhmm,” he hums flatly, “you do that just for fun?”

“Oh, yeah. I love it. When I finished my degree, I’m going to open up a…” your voice falters as his eyes look up at you dully, “sorry,” you cover your mouth, “library.”

His brows twitch and he looks back to his work, leaning on the handle of the cart and edging it forward. You step back, trying to flatten yourself against the shelf as he rolls by. He doesn’t say a word as he swings around the other side.

You let your shoulders slump and tiptoe back to the table. You move your bag and sit, taking out your notebook and case of pencils. Accounting is your least favourite course and you get the pleasure of reviewing it with your least favourite classmate.

“Sup, doughball,” Johnny’s voice carries across the space. You cringe and give him a tight-lipped look. “Sorry I’m late, got a bit distracted.”

“Sure,” you murmur as he pulls out the chair loudly and drops into it heavily, tossing a notebook with a pen in the spiral on the table. That’s all he has. “Where’s your textbook?”

“Figure you got yours,” he sways his leg as he leans back.

“I said I’d help, not I’d do your work for you,” you hiss.

“Calm down, doughball.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Habit,” he huffs, “look, I need this class to stay on the team,” he pulls open the snaps of his branded college letterman jacket, “and you’re actually passing.”

“And the only one who’ll give you the time of day,” you scoff, “so open your book,” you slide out your textbook and find the page for that week’s assignment.

“You’re a lifesaver, did I tell you that, doughball?” he fumbles to open the curling pages.

“She said not to call her that,” Curtis startles you as he emerges from an aisle.

“Huh?” Johnny turns, leaning an elbow on the table, “what’s it your business?”

“Everyone on the floor can hear you. This is a yellow zone. Inside voice, boy.”

“Boy?” Johnny laughs, “go back to your books, you overgrown dweeb.”

Curtis’ eyes narrow as Johnny faces you again, shaking his head as he smooths out his notebook. You’re almost flattered that the gloomy librarian would defend you but feel more awkward about the confrontation.

“You got a pencil?” Johnny asks.

You hand him one as Curtis hushes him, “I gotta tell you again, and you’re out.”

Your brows furrow. Shit, you’re gonna get banned from the library because Johnny can’t talk below a blare.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever dude. I pay my fees, I got every right–”

Johnny’s chair tilts as Curtis kicks the legs. It teeters dangerously before he steadies it and stands to face the librarian. They come chest to chest as you gape in disbelief.

“You gonna make me, huh, old man?” Johnny snarls.

“If that’s what it take,” Curtis sneers.

Johnny snickers and looks at you. He rears back his arm suddenly but misses as Curtis ducks under the cheap shot and steps around him. In a moment, Curtis’ arm is around Johnny’s neck and he has him bent over wheezing. You rise as panic swells in your chest.

“Hey, let him go,” you round the table, “really, he’s just a loud mouth–”

“Jesus, Curt,” Jake rushes over from behind you, “what are you doing?”

“Kicking this jackass out,” Curtis growls as Johnny hits his arm helplessly, his face turning red.

“You gotta let him go, dude, he’s gonna pass out,” Jake pleads.

“Stop him!” you hit Jake’s arm.

“I’m trying–”

“Jeez!” you throw your hands up and march over as the men struggle.

You grab onto Curtis’ arm as Johnny reaches up to claw at him blindly. Suddenly, you fly back as his grip comes loose, his elbow cracking off your jaw as you catch yourself on a chair, the impact jarring your spine.

“Ow,” you grunt and slide into the seat.

“Fuck,” the men part, Johnny coughing as Curtis spins to face you, “I’m so sorry–”

“It’s fine,” you touch your chin and stand, “I should go. Johnny, come on.”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to–”

“Really, I’m okay,” you hide your wet eyes as you shove your books into your knapsack, “I didn’t mean to cause such a disturbance.” You keep your back to him and your head down, “sorry.”

“You okay?” Jake asks from your other side.

“Johnny,” you call behind you as you sweep up his notebook, “let’s go.”

Johnny nears, brushing by Curtis in a silent face-off, and you hand him his things. You swiftly walk away with him at your heels, trying not to show the pain radiating from your back to your hips from the collision with the wooden chair.

“That guy’s fucking crazy,” Johnny says as you wipe your eyes.

“Maybe if you didn’t have to be such a jerk,” you snap, “you can do your own homework.”

📕

You make your way slowly down the steps of the lecture hall. The classroom clears out as you watch Johnny, leaning on the podium as he talks at, not to, the professor. She seems irritated as she packs up her slender laptop and sternly responds to him.

He doesn’t notice you as you follow another student out the door, nearly running straight into another body. Tall, unfaltering, his grey jacket and starched collar betray him as another academic; older, another professor. His stormy blue eyes narrow past you as you excuse yourself and he enters the lecture hall, calling out to his colleague.

You sigh and wind your scarf around your neck as you quickly flee the scene, fearing you might become Johnny’s last resort. The night, nearly a week ago, keeps you away from the library and still has you sore. You can’t quite comprehend how it escalated so quickly.

Still, you have to write a business plan for your strategy class and you can’t do that with Muse making a mess of your dorm. As laid back as she is, you wish she was a bit more put together.

Her music is always on and when it isn’t her bluetooth speaker, she’s filling the void with her thoughts. You could just put your headphones on, but that won’t stop Muse from bursting in with her latest genius idea to fry an egg on the panini grill.

You resign yourself to an awkward encounter, but hope for less as you pull your hood up. You have a plan. You’ll just have to find someone else to be a buffer, someone a little less inflammatory than Johnny.

You enter the library and glance around. There’s a girl at a table, alone. Not doing much of anything despite books sprawled out all around her. She’s spooked as another takes the seat across from her. They chat but there’s an air of hesitancy between them. You’ve never been overly forward but they seem friendly enough.

You near nervously, that ever present fear of rejection nipping at your heels.

“Hey,” you pull your hood down, “do you like cookies?”

“What?” one says as she looks up from a thick copy of Anna Karenina.

“Um, I have some…” you put your bag down and throw back the flap, “I baked them last night and there’s too many to finish on my own. Plus, my roommate is doing this weird diet, she said Da Vinci did it or something.”

The other girl stares at the table. She doesn’t seem to hear you as the other girl considers your offer.

“We accept baked goods as our entry fee,” she kids as she waves to the chair next to her, “first year too?”

“Yep,” You sit and unwrap the cookies.

“Better not let the librarian see,” she warns, “he’s a bit of an ass.”

“Oh?” you feign ignorance.

“Tweed,” she plucks one out of the plastic, “eat something.”

“Not hungry,” the other, Tweed, speaks to the table.

“Eat it,” she stands to grab her hand and forces the cookie into it, “I know you haven’t had anything but coffee today. The way you’re jittering.”

“Is she okay?”

“Tweed? Yeah, she’s just… shy. I’m Flora,” she introduces as she takes another cookie for herself, “English major.”

“Business,” you answer.

“She’s a history nut. Once you get her talking about it, she doesn’t stop. She’s just, going through some stuff. Men, you know?”

“I… guess,” you rub your neck.

“Oh, lucky. You haven’t fallen into that trap yet,” she puffs.

“You… you have a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? No,” she scoffs, “more of a pest. And she’s no better off but she won’t say it.”

“He’s nice to me. Sometimes.” Tweed squeaks as she eyes the cookie, “what kind is this?”

“Smore, it has marshmallow and graham baked into it.”

“Sounds good,” she finally glances up at you, “it’s good you sat with us. It’s not safe to be alone.”

“Tweed,” Flora says softly, “take a bite.” She faces you again, “I’m sorry, she’s just working through a lot right now.”

“It’s okay,” you assure, “college is hard.”

“That it is,” she says flippantly and takes a bite, “oh, this is great.”

“Thanks, I, um, get bored and it’s a good distraction.”

“Very good,” Tweed says through a mouthful, “thank you.”

“So, you don’t mind that I crashed your study session?” you ask.

“The more the merrier,” Flora shrugs, “this final paper is gonna be the death of me.”

📕

Your final project comes together in the form of an all-nighter and a longer day ahead of you. Muse helps you set up the table for the fundraiser, your hard work for sale to support a charity of your choice. For once, she’s focused but not entirely graceful as you say several trays from plummeting.

Still, you’re happy for the help as the traffic flows steadily and many stop to peruse your goods or enter the raffle for the grand prize; a three tier cake of their choice. The intensive preparations have kept you distracted and most importantly, out of the library.

“Do we have any of the gingerbread left?” Muse asks as you put money in the lock box and count out change.

“Bin with the blue lid,” you say and smile at a customer as you hand over their cupcake in a carefully packed paper twist.

“Hey!” Flora steps up as her turn comes. You hadn’t noticed her in the flurry of the lunchtime traffic.

“Oh, hi,” you smile, you didn’t believe her when she said she’d show up.

“Tweed’s busy. Apparently,” she says, “can I get the strawberry shortcake? That’s my fave.”

“Yeah, for sure,” you turn and take one of the pre-wrapped mini-cakes.

“You did all this?” she asks as she counts out of her change purse.

“I had help,” you glance over as Muse as she fills her mouth from the whip cream canister.

“She’s cute,” Flora says as she hands over exact change.

“Sometimes.”

“Devil’s food cake,” a deep voice sounds from behind Flora and she stands stalk straight. An older man with a bristly mustache and short scruff steps up, “ah, somehow I knew I’d find you here.” He speaks to Flora as she shudders.

“I have class,” she says as she shuffles away from him.

He snickers and lets her go. You don’t know him but you can guess he’s a professor. You wonder if he’s the one she complains about. He does seem like a hard ass.

“We have cupcakes or slices,” you offer.

He narrows his eyes at you, “I’ll take a lemon square.”

“Lemon? Okay.” You turn and get him his order as he lays a bill down and smoothes it over the plastic table. “Thanks.”

“Keep the change,” he says as he tucks the paper bag in his pocket, spinning quickly to crane his head and setting off in the same direction as Flora.

“She wants the cherry chip,” another figure interrupts your thoughts and you smile at the man. There’s a tugging on his arm.

“I told you, I’m not hungry,” Tweed squeaks.

“Sure you are, baby,” he squeezes her hand.

“Hi, Tweed,” you greet and grab her a cherry chip cupcake.

“You know her?” He nudges her with his elbow.

“Steve,” she mumbles as she takes the dessert, “I have money, I can pay–”

“No, I got it,” he insists as he digs in his pocket.

“It’s on the house,” you assure them, “did you want anything?”

“I got all the sweetness I need,” he winks and taps Tweed’s ass, “come on, baby.”

She gives you a shameful peek before she turns away, as if running from him as he follows. Boy problems.

“We’re gonna sell out soon,” Muse grins as she lifts up another tray of peanut butter cookies.

“Good, means I’ll get a good grade and we get to give to the shelter,” you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, “a lot of people though.”

“We’ll wait for it to die down and take a break,” she offers.

“Sure,” you say doubtfully, “sounds good.”

📕

Muse leaves you as she scrambles to put her hat on and drops her mitt for the sixth time. “I got life drawing in ten.”

“I didn’t think we’d be so late,” you sigh as you stack empty containers inside of each other, “think I can manage on my own.”

The student center is mostly empty. You fold up the table and return it to the facilities room and return to your cart of leftovers. You tug your coat on as you look towards the doors. It’s snowing.

“I missed it,” the voice draws you back. “You don’t got any scraps left?”

You face Curtis and purse your lips, “just some cookies.”

“I’ll take em all,” he shoves his hand in his coat pocket.

“There’s like two dozen–”

“How much?” he insists.

You stare at him, “you don’t have to–”

“I’m apologising. I know I’m no good at it but I’m trying. I didn’t mean to scare you. Or hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” you insist as you reach down into the cart, “here.”

You take out the paper bag of remaining cookies, “you can have them.”

“Here,” he holds out a fifty.

“Really, you don’t have to–”

“For charity, right?”

You try to smile and take it begrudgingly as he trades you for the cookies. “Thanks.”

As you take out the lock box and shove the bill inside. You snap it shut and steer the cart around.

“That guy isn’t your boyfriend, is he?”

You push ahead and peer over at him, “no, but what does that matter?”

He’s quiet. He hurries ahead to hold the door for you. You proceed outside and continue down the ramp and into the light powder of snow. He catches up to you as you try not show your discomfort.

“I’m not mad. Your apology is accepted.”

“It’s late, you shouldn’t be out alone.”

“Thanks, but I don’t live that far.”

Again, silence. The paper bag crumples as he adjusts it.

“Well, good night,” he says stiffly and suddenly walks away.

You stop short to watch him. He’s almost running. You blink and return to your course. You figured you’d be used to the strange after hanging out with Muse.

📕

“It’s so quiet up here,” you whisper as you sit next to Tweed. Muse is doodling as she overcrowds Flora, who is none too impressed by her.

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

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

She seems more bitter by the day but you don’t say anything. You’re all stressed. Exams are underway and you’re all under slept and overworked.

“Look,” Muse presents a sketch of Flora looking unimpressed, “I call it ‘Wrath’. It’s part of my series on the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Jesus,” Flora mutters dryly.

You tisk as the table falls silent. You all go back to your eager studying, only the scratch of Muse’s lead tip and the steady blow of the heaters overhead. Another chapter and your eyes begin to itch. You sit back and stretch your arms.

“Ugh, my neck,” you rub your shoulders, “I’m gonna stretch my legs.”

“Don’t get lost,” Muse’s head pops up, “I feel a presence.”

Flora shakes her head at the foreboding comment as Tweed sinks down further. You’re used to her nervousness and almost understand it since your run-in at the bake sale. That man wasn’t exactly comforting.

You get up and drift away, looking back at the girls as they cluster around the table in heaps of wool, cotton, and denim. The staleness of the air scented with paper and a hint of coffee stirs around you. You slip into an aisle and take long strides, trying to stretch the tight muscles in your thighs.

You go a little far, around the staircase and to the other side of the floor. The tables are all empty. There’s a dearth of sound; no flipping pages, no pencil pressing into paper. Just your soft footsteps as you curiously eye the ancient folios and broken spines.

A shadow darkens on the other side of the shelf and you bend to try to see between the levels. You don’t see anyone, even as you come around to look down the row. Another wisp in your peripheral, you spin but see nothing. No one.

You should go back. It has to be the lack of sleep.

A hand clamps over your mouth as the wraith appears before you. Your eyes widen as Curtis backs you into the metal shelf and shushes you. You grab his wrist, quaking as you feel the strength in his bulging tendons.

“Please, don’t… let me just say what I have to say,” he begs, your confusion tamping in your chest. You nod as he keeps his palm flush to your lips. “I… don’t want you to be afraid of me. Not like everyone else. You’re the only one I don’t want to leave me alone.”

You gulp as he lets his hand slip. You brace yourself against the shelf and his hand frames your chin. You suck in air and he pushes a finger against your lips.

“Don’t,” he grips you tightly, “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially not your friends.”

You search his crystal blue eyes, the line along his forehead, the set angle of his jaw.

“What do you want?” you whisper, the words crackling in the air.

His pupils expand and he shudders, as if rabid, “you.”

Your nails stab into his sleeve and he stifles your cry before you can get it out. He covers your mouth again and drags you along the shelf. You whimper, books falling at your feet. You hope the clutter can be heard on the other side of the floor.

“Please,” he pulls you out of the aisle and towards a door marked storage. Your hand slides over the wall as you try to cling to it.

Your back hits the door and he leans into it as he pushes the handle down. You stumble back as he herds you inside, a mop and bucket in one corner and several boxes against the other wall. You whine as you frantically grasp at his wrist.

“Why are you scared?” he rasps as the door shuts behind him, sending you into darkness.

You sniff and slap his chest as you try to shove him away. You flail blindly, sending his glasses to the floor as he wrestles with you, hand falling to your neck, a subtle squeeze, a silent threat. You swallow down your shriek.

“Really, I don’t want to hurt you,” he says slowly.

“Then don’t,” you quaver, “let me go, please.”

He inhales, he’s shaking. “You’re mine.”

“Wha– Curtis, let’s talk. We’ll go out and just talk–”

“No, no,” he retracts his touch and you exhale cautiously, “No.”

He hisses and suddenly his mouth is on yours as he crowds you in the small closest. He crushes you against the cold cement wall as you helplessly feel along the heavy blocks set in mortar.

Your soles slip on the floor as his hands crawl down your neck and stretch over your chest as a hungry snarl flows from his throat down yours.

You turn your face away and squeal. He quickly stuffs his fingers into your mouth, nearly choking you as he pushes down. His other hand continues down your body, slipping beneath your cardigan and down your side. He plays with the hem of your shirt, following the waistband of your jeans.

You bite down on his knuckles and he grunts but doesn’t let go. His grip makes you wince as he pushes down and your eyes wet with tears. He plucks open the button of your pants and urges the zipper down. You hear voices, footsteps on the other side of the door. He swiftly smothers you again, wet fingers against your cheeks as you squirm.

“No one else but me,” he sneers hotly as his hand dives down the front of your panties, delving along your folds.

You latch onto the front of his shirt as he kicks your feet apart, rubbing you gently as he keeps you pinned. You feel the slickness gather as he plays with your clit, humiliation scalding down your thighs as you hear the chatter just on the other side of the door.

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

“Right,” Muse agrees, “we’ll go check.”

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

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

You can’t make a noise as your breath barely brushes over Curtis’ large hand. His fingers glide further back and curl inside you. You clutch his arm, thick and firm, and quiver. He rocks his hand as your hips match his rhythm. His touch is deliberate and devious, drawing out all you try to repress.

You twitch as the tension spikes and scatters across your flesh, lighting up each nerve from head to toe. You huff into his hand and moan, succumbing to the rush and riding it out against his rough hand.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he coaxes as he slows.

You close your eyes. It doesn’t and that’s worse.

You flinch as he removes his hand, gripping the top of your jeans and pulling them down your thighs, your panties twisting with the denim. You try to reach for the fabric and he slaps you away. He tuts and kneads the tender flesh of your leg.

He raises his foot and pushes your pants down to the floor with his boots. He grabs the back of your leg, lifting it until your foot slips free of jeans, your boot caught in the bottom. You clench your teeth as he hooks your leg around him, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“It’s okay,” he purrs as he rubs along your cunt again, “I’m gonna keep you safe.”

You hold your breath as his fingers move furiously, toying with you until you're shaking. He turns his hand to flick open his fly and shimmies until his pants slip down on their own. He grunts as steps closer, hiking your leg higher as he leans into you.

He raises his head as he prods at your entrance, forcing you to your toes as he pushes into you. Just his tip has you gasping as his hand falls down to your neck. He impales you with a tilt of his hips and you groan.

“You’re so good,” he pets your head as he rocks into you, “so good.”

Your eyes roll back as you hang your head back, arching your spin as he buries himself deeper and deeper. He gropes your ass as he ruts harder and harder, kissing across your hairline and temple as he snarls.

“Please,” your hands brush over his shirt and tangle in the fabric, “please.”

“Shh, I got you, sugar, I got you,” he bows to kiss you and swallows your moan, devouring you as eagerly as one of your desserts.

#curtis everett #dark curtiis everett #dark!curtis everett #campus au #au #college au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #curtis everett x reader #snowpiercer

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Text

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲... 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 🍆💦

well hello friends !! To celebrate Mr. Chris DILF Evans’ birthday, the upcoming father’s day, and because I’m in the mood for DILF-themed things 💦 I’m throwing another party !! focused on dilf-things in terms of vibes/being an actual father, etc. so send asks/requests, besties, and I’ll pick a few !! PSA | Updates | PSA2

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬:

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅-𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 | June 13—14 (REQUESTS CLOSED but party will continue until all chosen requests are done !!)

˚*｡:°ꨄ 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧: we can talk about anything and I’ll also be answering older asks !!

˚*｡:°☾ 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: must be related to the party theme! these can be about any of my current works or fresh ideas/prompts | (˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ | 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐬)

𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬: all things dilf-related: dad’s best friend, boyfriend’s dad, best friend’s dad, stepdad, dad!character x mom!reader, dilf/milf, age gap, silver fox, etc. open to soft dark/dark—send anything !!

Before sending a prompt, please check the list of completed drabbles in case it has already been sent. No requests are guaranteed.

all asks/drabbles/things related to my celebration will be tagged under: #daddy sorry daddy party & all drabbles will be reblogged onto my library: @onsunnysidelibrary

Reminder: my blog is 18+ — minors DNI. [time zone converter]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐬: all fics, drabbles, etc.

updated as they’re posted | [smut*]

trophy wife!reader x dilf!Ari Levinson | milf!reader

𝐒𝐚𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥; one shot: dark!bodyguard!Lloyd Hansen x reader*

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐁𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩; one shot: stepdad!Ari Levinson x innocent!reader x stepdad’s best friend!Lloyd Hansen*

stepdad!Lloyd Hansen got with your family for business but wants to knock you up*

christmas with stepdad!Ari Levinson*

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲; one shot: dark!dilf!Ari Levinson takes you to parent teacher night, innocent!babysitter!reader* (dark, vibrating panties)

dad’s best friend!Curtis Everett at his hunting lodge*

cruel: the lake house*

sick of sugarcoatin’: curtis comes over for father’s day*

boyfriend’s dad!Ari*

dad’s best friend!Chris Evans teaches you golf*

best friend’s dad!swim coach!andy is breath control training swimmer!reader by having the reader blow him underwater*

Chris finds out you’re pregnant

boyfriend’s dad!Andy finds out you’re pregnant (not set in Cruel)

#daddy sorry daddy party #onsunnyside

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 2 months

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Kiss Me, I'm-

A Curtis and Honey Holiday Special

Summary- 3.2k Curtis x Plus Sized Reader. Saint Patrick's Day is in full swing at Paulie's Bar. You and Paulie play a friendly game of flip cup, that results in the whole bar getting a special holiday round of beer. As well as an opportunity for Curtis to get you all to himself.

Warnings- Dirty Talk, Sexual Activities, Alcohol Consumption, Buzzed/Drunk.

A/N- Thank you so much @mumbles411 for reading through this piece as well as all our conversations about Curtis and Honey. I really appreciate all the times you just drop a random thought and we weave whole scenarios around it. @bigtreefest thank you so much for dropping that ask in my inbox that prompted this. To all the readers, gosh you guys are incredible. Thank you!

If you happen to celebrate the holiday, please stay safe.

If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and/or give a share.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

“You can try to kick my ass at this.” You smirked as you flicked the cap off of a jameson bottle, the top spinning across the bar's counter till Paulie smacked his hand against it to keep it from spinning onto his floor.

“Oh girl, I know I am going to.” Paulie set down a line of red solo cups between the two of you, his eyes narrowed at your challenge. “Saint Patricks Day is a bartender's Christmas, I’m not about to let you out-flip me at flip cup.” He informed you while taking the bottle of Jameson, pouring some whiskey down the line and finishing the rest of the cups with his green beer.

Edgar at your side scrunched up his face. “So instead of Santa, you have little leprechauns you look forward to? Just fucking creepy man, I hate those little bastards.” He shuddered.

You laughed while bumping your shoulder against Edgar’s. “Even Lucky the lucky charms leprechaun?”

“ESPECIALLY HIM! You know he is a scheming little bastard. You’ve seen the movies, those leprechauns will murder you just because.”

Paulie scoffed at Edgar, setting the bottle and pitcher aside.

“Oooh! That was such a terrible set of movies.” You glanced over your shoulder towards where Curtis was in a game of pool with Ella. “We should watch the leprechaun movie later!” The balls clanked loudly after he took his shot and straightened up, leveling you a look.

“Honey, you taking that line of shots with Paulie, you’re gonna be out of commission tonight.” You scoffed to hide your grin, knowing he was right. After this topped off with the green beer Paulie was serving to celebrate, you were gonna be wasted. “Okay, tomorrow then.”

Ella piped up from the other side of the pool table. “Oh, I vote sleepover and we build a fort in the living room to watch them. Curtis can make us his hangover cure.”

“Deal.” You gave her some cheesy finger guns while Curtis eyed you, a playful gleam in his expression.

“Remember that when I’m trying to get you out of bed tomorrow.”

“Wait, can I crash this sleepover?” Edgar pouted and you slung your arm over his shoulder, drawing him in close.

“The more the merrier, of course you're invited.” From behind you, you could hear Curtis and Ella debating about the best hangover cures and just how committed Curtis was to cooking for all of you in the morning.

“Okay! Back to what we were doing… Paulie, you ready?”

“At drinking you under the table? Sweetheart I was born ready.” He curled his fingers on one of the cups at one end, preparing. You both stare at each other trying to intimidate the other. “The one with the most flipped cups wins.”

Curtis came up behind you at some point, his hands resting on your tense shoulders, squeezing lightly and you saw Paulie's eyes flicker behind you. “Bet’s on that Y/N gets in more shots. I know my girl, she doesn’t back down from a challenge.”

Oh did that make you tingle all over at his praise. Now you absolutely had to win.

“Prepare to lose your money Everett.” Paulie shot back but you just gave a cool smirk at the man. Edgar watched the clock above the bar and as soon as the second hand hit the new minute mark, his palm slammed down on the bar, making you leap into action.

You were good at this game, college had taught you the efficiency of keeping calm instead of trying to rush in flipping the cups.

Meaning while Paulie was fumbling with some of his flips, yours were steadily flipping in the correct manner, wincing whenever you came across the shots of whiskey, the beer though went down a lot easier.

“Son of a bitch, flip.” Paulie sputtered, seeming to get stuck halfway up the line. You were laser focused, the whiskey making your eyes water with every heavy swallow. Curtis was whispering in your ear about how you were turning him on right then.

“Come’on Pretty Girl. Show them how good my girl is.”

Between that and the burn of alcohol, you were swimming in the rush of it. The last cup flipped and you threw your hands up in victory with a cheer, just barely beating out Paulie by a matter of seconds. From behind you Curtis gave a victory yell, pulling you into him while you were still jumping and dancing in your win.

“Ya got lucky.” Paulie huffed while Curtis reached over you to grab the Jameson bottle and took a drag off it, claiming it for himself.

“My girl has fucking talent.” Curtis praised, his arms enclosing you against his firm chest. Warmth filled you, feeding you till you squirmed back against him, his grunt quietly muffled in your hair.

“Tease.” He whispered, flexing his hold on you to keep you still for now.

The whiskey as well as the rush of excitement had you floating on that feel-good sensation that you were ready to ride till it faded away.

“Alright Y/N, how are we celebrating?” Paulie leaned against the bar after cleaning up the pile of red solo cups and the remnants of jameson spilled across the bar.

“Beers.” You demanded. “St.Patrick’s Day demands it.”

“How about the next round on me then?” Paulie offered, gathering up the pitchers of beer to refill glasses.

“THE WHOLE BAR?” came a shout from somewhere in the room, you suspected it was Ella. Paulie conceded, waving over his customers to claim their free beer.

Curtis took his chance with the rush to the bar, tugging you away from the crowd and slipping the two of you through doors leading to the back rooms and the office. You giggled as he rounded on you, grabbing your hips and swinging you up to wrap your legs around his waist. “We aren’t supposed to be back here.” You chided, teasing as your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, hovering your lips close to his.

“Paulie is too fucking busy now losing part of his profits to notice where we are.” Curtis growled while continuing his mission to get you all to himself. Pushing open the office door with his shoulder, his hand fumbled on the lock while you crashed your mouth to his,

Pinning you back against the door, your head banged back with a soft thud while he traveled away from your lips, grinding into you.

“How's that whiskey treating you Pretty Girl?”

You whimpered when you felt his kiss at your pulse point turn harder, making you tingle at the sensation. “Good, really good…”

“Want me to make it even better?” His mouth finds your ear, teasing you enough to make you bite your lip at the loss of his mouth.

This man knew how to drive you crazy, your body arching to press against his all that much more although he already had you pinned tightly against the door. “Please Curtis?” Your tone is aching and needy, lust filled.

“Fuck when you sound like that.” He growled as his mouth reclaimed yours, swinging you away from the door and falling back into the chair behind the office desk, while your hands reached between you two, tugging his belt open. “It makes me so fucking hard for you.”

“How long do you think we have?” You moved to kiss along his bristled jawline, nipping at his neck while he reached around you to shake the computer mouse and pull up the bar's cameras.

“Plenty of time Pretty Girl.” He wrapped a hand into your hair, pulling you back till you were sitting up straight and his eyes could roam up and down your body, licking his lips like you were just made to be devoured. “Get out of those pants and turn around.” His palm smacked against your ass, making a slapping sound but your jeans kept away any sting. You lifted yourself off to do as he asked, a glance over your shoulder showed him shimming his pants and boxers down off his hips. For good measure, you stripped your shirt off to drop it with your pants.

“We’re gonna have to buy Paulie a new chair.” You giggle as you finally get one of your legs free and Curtis grasps your hips to make you back up, his touch going between your thick thighs to tighten his fingers into your panties, making them rub right up against your clit. “Fuck.” You hiss, rocking your hips enough to create friction.

“Leather chair Pretty Girl, he will never know once I wipe it back down.”

The image of Curtis’s ass cheeks in the leather made you giggle between breathy moans, another glance over your shoulder catching sight of him spitting on his hand and rubbing it up and down his cock. You couldn't muffle the giggles while Curtis pushed aside your panties finally and had you start to lower on him slowly, gentle bounces and thrusts working him in. “Although your ass print should be considered a work of art.” The image of framing the chair with two distinct ass cheek imprints having you laughing harder until Curtis pushed you down into his lap.

“You're a fucking work of art, remind me to nail you up against a wall later.” He stated, his hands flexing in appreciation along the curve of your hips.

A gasp escaped you, falling back into his chest with a buzzed grin plastered on your face. “I ever tell you how much I love feeling you. Mmmhh when I first met you I said ‘Y/N, that man has a cock made to ride.”

Curtis snorted behind you, running his hands up your front to tease your breasts in his hands, pushing your bra out of the way. “Was that before you went all teacher mode or after you left?”

You moved your hands over his, making him squeeze harder till he was doing the exact pressure you wanted. “Oh definitely during, the whole time we were walking around and I had to ask those questions. Good thing I had my note cards or else I would have failed at being logical.”

You felt the press of his smile against your cheek and a groan coming from him, followed by a curse. Squeezing your cunt around him always made him a little more vocal and you loved hearing him. “Wanna know what I was thinking the whole time?” He muttered in your ear before pushing you forward to sit up, your hands landing on the desk edge in front of you and his own touch slid down to your hips.

Digging into you like he was holding on.

“How this perfect fucking cunt was made to take my cock.” He thrusted up hard, making you jolt in his lap and flutter excitedly. “Knowing how god damn sexy you would be when you went mindless, begging for more.” He started faster, making you bounce on him. Your hands tightened their grip on Paulie’s desk to keep you from falling forward, the jolts making your little sounds escaping broken sounding almost pathetic. “How you played sweet and innocent that day, but I knew that was just a show…”

Your head nodded, your ass slapping down onto his lap now, your body jiggling in the forceful movements. His cock pounding into you was making your eyes roll, how good it felt to feel him fuck into you over and over. “T’was Curtis, I wanted…”

“Wanted what Pretty Girl?” He asked, his tongue and teeth sinking into your shoulder blade and kissing your flexing back. Sure there would be a mark on you, his mark and that satisfied him on a whole other level.

“That.”

“What’s that?” Curtis let go of your hips, to roam his hands over you, palming your breast again and squeezing till you shuddered in his hold. Your own touch flew back to grab at the back of his head, holding on.

“To be dirty for you.”

He hissed when your cunt fluttered again, squeezing and sucking him back in, like you never wanted him to leave. “Fuck you are, you would get down right now and suck my cock, or bend over this desk wouldn’t you? All with the office camera rolling for a video.”

Your head nodded, tilting back with parted lips crying his name out louder than you should have. His hand at your chest slapped over your lips, muffling your cries. “My pretty little whore, we gotta be quiet.”

You didn't care, the alcohol buzzing in your system, sneaking off with Curtis and him talking like this to you was making you stupid with pleasure. Your pants were rushed, the slap of your body against his and the creak of the leather was just adding to it all. The small office felt heated, now smelled of sex, and you couldn't stop giggling behind his palm. “You gonna come for me, soak this cock?”

A firm nod had you grabbing at his hand still wrapped at your waist, shoving it between your thighs with a moaning yes when his fingertips pressed against your clit. A deep laugh, knowing that you needed to have that touch in order to get yourself off. “Come on Pretty Girl.” He grunted in your ear, the twirl of his fingers and the rub he was giving your clit making your heart race, the tension just before coming building, swiftly now. Like you were about to crash. “Someone is gonna come looking for us, and see you spread all out on this chair with my cock buried deep in this weeping cunt. You don’t want that do you?” The snap of his teeth signaling just how close Curtis was.

No? Maybe? You knew it gave you a rush, which just added to the moment. “Curtis!” His name falling from you like a prayer muffled behind his palm, ready to crash into shattered oblivious pieces, falling apart in his lap where he yanked you back, the slap of his hips underneath you had his cock pushing into your squelching cunt while chasing for his own orgasm now that you came.

Yours left you floating, giving yourself over to him to use you however he wanted while you just let yourself continue enjoying the buzz of sex and alcohol.

“Fuck, FUCK!” Curtis’s muffled roar was against your shoulder, biting onto you with a grunt as he pulled you hard onto him one last time, warmth making you clench on him again, rocking your hips slightly with a satisfied moan of your own. Your head tilted into his, both of you panting heavily to catch your breaths when his hand dropped from your mouth and rested against your heaving chest, his palm flattening against the racing of your heart.

“We should sneak in here more often.” You snickered while pushing up to sit, Curtis sliding his hands around your waist and following up to hug you from behind, letting his face press against your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I know where Paulie hides his office keys for when he starts locking the door.” He muttered, pressing kisses across the top of your back to the other shoulder. “Move that mouse, see where he is.”

You leaned forward to shove the mouse enough to take off the old school screensaver, peering at the grainy screen. "Still at the bar, busy too. Looks like Saint Patrick's Day really is his Christmas.”

“Good…” Curtis gave a push to have the chair roll back away from the desk a bit. “Turn around so I can hold you proper for a few minutes before we go back out there.”

“Does he really have cameras in here Curtis?” Your eyes bounced around, searching. You certainly didn’t want Paulie seeing this on video.

“No Honey, I helped him set them up and he just has one facing the door, not inside.” His lips pressed against your shoulder and then helped you to stand, your legs a bit wobbly and twist around to sit back in his lap, the leather chair giving a groan once more, making you break out in a giggle.

Nothing was gonna ruin your mood tonight, not even knowing the chances you were gonna have a hangover could kill the high you were feeling right now. His arms wrapped back around you, palms brushing up and down your back while you tucked yourself in against his chest, silence filling the room. “You know I am really looking forward to tomorrow.” You tucked your face on his shoulder, letting your hand rest against his chest, playing with his chain, your fingers twisting in it.

“Mmhh, is it the fact you are making a fort on the living room floor with Ella and Edgar to watch Leprechaun? Or the hangover cure I’m supposed to make you guys?”

“Both.” You lifted your head, finding his lips with yours and giving him a slow affectionate kiss. “I love you very much. For much more than you making me feel really good in Paulie’s office, which he is gonna be pissed about.” You were sure to point out as his grin grew, his arms tightening just a little more to keep you in close to him. “Although I do feel really really good, and that's only a little bit from the jameson.” You rambled on and Curtis couldn’t help his reaction, his head tipping back and a deep chested booming laughter sounded, making you feel so happy to see him happy.

Maybe you were more than buzzed.

“I'm glad that it's seventy five percent me, twenty five percent whiskey?” Curtis ventured a guess, catching your chin in his forefinger and thumb to tilt your mouth back to his.

“More than that, like ninety-ten.” You mumbled against his lips, the two of you teasing each other with soft playful pecks. “But i'm definitely drunk now.”

“Mmh, I can tell Honey.” His answer was softer now, sighing against your lips. “I love you for giving me these moments in life.” His touch lingered on your face, cupping your cheek and this kiss was moved from your mouth up to your forehead, giving you a whole other satisfying sensation, one that curled into your heart. His gaze fell back to the computer screen with a soft shit under his breath. “Incoming Honey.”

Right behind you was a pound on the door. “You two better not be fucking in my office!”

You squealed, hiding against Curtis as if Paulie was gonna come barging in, which he wasn’t, he knew better. “Busted.” You loudly whispered while Curtis muffled his laughter once again.

“Give us five minutes…. TEN!” Curtis shouted, watching the camera to see Paulie storming back towards the bar, sputtering.

“I need to bake him some cookies to apologize.” You said solemnly as you too watched the camera’s with a twist of your head looking over your shoulder.

“You do that Honey so I can taste test them.” He gripped your chin to turn you back to look at him. “Kiss me Honey? I’m-”

You didn’t let him finish, your lips pressing to his, cutting off the last of his words.

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