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biteofcherry · 1 month ago

Text

Gasoline

dark biker!Ari Levinson x female reader x dark biker!Curtis Everett

summary: They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. It sure was true for you. An attempt at saving someone led to you being taken into the pits of darkness. And the devils own you now.

warnings: dub-con; power imbalance; possessiveness; threats; sex in public; unprotected sex; cockwarming; oral (m receiving); mention of oral (f receiving); fingering; pussy spanking; spit kink; forced tattoo; dark!Ari; dark!Curtis;

word count: 4.5k

Author's Note: So this is a result of a few factors ruining me - @buckets-and-trees tattoo artists Curtis and Ari story making me think of those two combining forces; musings about masked dark biker Curtis with @stargazingfangirl18 ; as well my horny brain creating a very naughty dream 🫣 It's not a story I've been working on for long. I wrote it all today, because I needed to get it out of my head.

Be ready at 9PM. Max will drive you.

The message is blunt and direct. Like most of their commands.

The upside is that at least you don’t have to figure out what they want, there are no games to be played. Still, you love when they turn a bit more playful - marginally so. When there’s a whisper of softness and fondness in their eyes as they let you tease and poke a bit.

You think it’s because you’ve learned when to do that and how to keep it just a small, acceptable dose.

You’ve learned quickly that acting a full on brat wouldn’t be tolerated.

Well, at the very beginning they shouldn’t have been surprised you lashed out. After all, they’ve taken you without your consent, stealing you away from your steady life as a punishment for daring to defend someone who crossed them.

With your fierce, empathetic heart you couldn’t just stand down and watch as they flayed someone open. But that act of humanity cost you your freedom.

Swept away on a beast of a motorbike, its roar barely covering the thudding of your panicked heart; taken into the depths of the city’s darkness and into the tower that became your new life.

Because nobody crossed Ari Levinson and Curtis Everett, without facing severe punishment.

It was your luck, or perhaps doom, they sanctioned you with life instead of death. But that life was now theirs.

You were all theirs.

So of course you fought at the beginning, which didn’t seem to surprise or faze them much. Your screams and throwing things against the beautiful walls of the two story penthouse were ignored for the most part. So were your tears. They merely wiped them away in an almost tender gesture, then coldly told you to accept that this was your life now.

“You can make yourself miserable living it, or you can let yourself accept it and find enjoyment in it.”

The way Ari's thumb brushed along your bottom lip told you exactly what kind of enjoyment they were offering you. Your traitorous body reacted, despite your mind detesting it.

They took away your clothes and when you asked for some Ari simply told you no. So you ripped down the gauzy window curtains and draped them over yourself in a makeshift dress.

You were very smug about that little victory.

Until Ari ripped them off of you and fucked the rebellion out of you.

Fucked you hard and long, ‘till you sobbed and begged for mercy. Which was granted only after you promised to follow the rules.

You were still sore and oversensitive when Curtis slipped into your bed the next morning, waking you up with his mouth devouring you. Pinning you down after wrecking two orgasms out of you, he fed you the mixture of your cum and his spit, ordering you to swallow.

“Good girls get rewarded,” he left you with that direction. And with a pile of new clothes on the chair.

Over the next weeks, through trials and tribulations, you’ve learned that as long as you followed the rules and expectations, most of your requests were met. Often they went beyond and before you even asked for something.

The only thing you would never be granted was your freedom.

You weren’t allowed outside, unless you were with them. The steel and glass tower they owned was swarmed with guards and all sorts of alarms and traps. The only time you were out without either Ari or Curtis at your side (usually the both of them) was when an appointed guard was taking you to them.

Just like now.

You stare at the message on your phone. Which isn’t your connection to the outside world at all. The only contacts in it are to Ari, Curtis and two most trusted men from their inner circle. It’s tracked at all times and you’re sure they are monitoring your browsing history, as well.

Clubbing is not my thing. You dare to type back.

The fact they told you where they were going when they left the penthouse isn’t much comforting, because it’s a way to force you to have information for which they could easily kill you, if you used it in any way. It’s also a manipulation to make it feel like what the three of you have is some sort of a relationship.

But isn’t it?

Fucking aside, they spend time with you. If they aren’t away doing bloody business, they always eat breakfast with you. Other meals depending on their workload. They aren’t very talkative, but they engage in conversations with you. Curtis taught you how to properly use the few machines at the home gym, when you were restless and searching for something to do while locked in. Ari will keep you in his lap, playing with your hair and watching movies on the ridiculously huge screen.

Glimpses of softness, really. You never fool yourself to think of them as truly soft, because even as they provide a certain tenderness, there’s always that brutal darkness lurking behind.

It shows in the way they fuck you. As well in the way Ari’s gaze glints a murderous warning when you come close to crossing the line, or how Curtis doesn’t bother wiping away enemy’s blood from his face before coming to you.

Wear a red dress - comes the reply and you know tonight they’re not in the mood to give you room for some brattiness.

You huff in annoyance, but still get up and go into the bathroom to take a shower and shave.

Sometimes, when they’re more relaxed and content, they entertain your pushing. Usually it leads to a sinfully hot chuckle, a few spanks and a lot of orgasms. But if they’re in one of their darker moods, you don’t dare to rebel. It doesn’t end well.

Yes, there’s merciless fucking that leaves you shattered into pieces, but there’s always a higher price to pay too. Like having your childhood friend and her family threatened with death, when you reached out to her via social media.

Hair and makeup done, clad in a tight, short red dress, you’re ready five minutes before 9PM. Max waits for you in the elevator, greeting you curtly, but not looking up at you.

No one ever looks directly at you. No one beside Curtis or Ari.

As you’re being driven through the city, you wistfully watch streets buzzing with life - people freely walking around, friends meeting and going out for drinks, workaholics leaving companies and trailing home. You were never a partying girl and you know you’re being summoned to the club only for Curtis and Ari’s entertainment, but at least you will be out of your beautiful prison for a few hours.

The club is pulsing with a sensual, enticing beat. There’s enough people filling the space to make it obvious how popular this place is, but there’s also a street long line at the front, because getting in isn’t that easy.

You don’t know if Ari and Curtis own this place, but you doubt they’d take you anywhere that wasn’t under their strict command.

Besides, they have their fingers wrapped tightly around so many establishments and people in this city, that it may belong to them whole.

Many would never assume that their power extended so greatly. They’re nothing like the polished, suit-wearing mafia men, or politicians that people imagine to be at the top. Not with their less classy attire of jeans and leather, their heavy biker boots, tattoos covering their bodies. And yet it’s them who hold the reins and carve up anyone daring to step out of line.

Max points toward the staircase, leading to the upper floor. VIP section undoubtedly, considering two heavily tatted bouncers guarding the entrance.

They nod their heads in greeting, but drop their gazes. One of them unhooks the red rope and lets you onto the stairs.

There's a middle floor, filled with velvet couches and chrome accessories, shiny tables set with buckets filled with ice and champagne bottles in each. You notice a few faces you know from the tv screen and social media.

Ah, so it's a floor for the celebrity kind of VIPs.

But the real important people are on the top floor. Guarded by another set of bouncers.

Unlike the lower levels, this one is instantly recognizable as belonging to bikers. Chrome details are kept in darker tones, velvet replaced by leather, a tattoo-style painted skull takes most of the black wall.

Members of the gang mingle around. Not many of them, just the inner circle, or closest to it. Brutal enforcers, sneaky assassins, remorseless bunch.

You pass them without glancing at anyone, your gaze searching and settling on the only people you're allowed to give your attention to.

Ari and Curtis are sprawled on the central, U-shaped sofa. Arms braced on the back of it, legs spread wide. Masters of the dark universe. Of your universe, too.

There's no one beside them, but in front of them, separated by the steel chrome coffee table, is a man. A battered, bleeding man. On his knees.

Everyone around acts as if there was nothing there to see. As if the man didn't exist at all. You feel that compassionate sadness squeeze your heart. The same instinct that made you act that fatal night and sealed your fate. Now you know not to show it, not to act on it, or it would lead to the man's immediate death.

Instead, you stand before them. Just a few steps away from the trembling man.

Ari and Curtis’ eyes instantly move to you. Both slowly drag their gazes up your form.

One thing that you gained from their attention is the huge boost in body confidence. Each pound, each curve, each roll - they desire you all the same.

You made sure to wear a dress that's short enough to leave your thighs exposed. They always like when their marks of ownership are visible.

Getting them was painful. Also against your will. But you stayed in place, gritting your teeth and clenching your fingers into fists. Ari held you down to prevent any squirming as Curtis personally tattooed your skin.

One thigh presents a scary black&white skull, shrouded in darkness. With a bleeding red rose crunched between its teeth. Drops of blood are painted as dripping into scratched out letters below, forming his name - Curtis.

On your other thigh is a female's head - your portrait. All dark stencil, no color. Two skeleton hands gripping you. One is wrapped around your throat, letters of Ari's name written on each bony knuckle. Two fingers of the other hand are pushed in your tattooed version's mouth.

Ari bounces one of his legs and you know that it's a sign for you. You slip between the table and the couch and sit down in Ari's lap.

His arm moves from the backrest to curl around your back. You lean into him, resting your side against his chest. With your fingers you play with the chain around his neck, distracting yourself from the scene unfolding.

They ask the man something. Their voices are steady, but deadly serious. The man sounds pitched, stuttering. Others would laugh at him for such “unmanly” reaction, but you understand that core-deep terror and how the scrutiny of the two bikers turns you into a pathetic mess.

You tune out whatever they're saying. You don't want to hear the begging for mercy, because you know it won't come.

Ari and Curtis share a look. A silent agreement passing between them.

Some people make the mistake of assuming that Ari is the leader and Curtis his main enforcer. That couldn't be farther from the truth.

They both rule. Equally. Each decision is unanimous.

It just so happens that Ari often takes the talking part and Curtis the executioner’s.

It’s Curtis who moves now, too. Extremely fast for his massive body. His hand curls around the man's throat, squeezing it hard. Not just in warning. He drags the flailing man away, just by holding him by the neck.

You don't watch where he's being taken, nor who takes over. You don't want to see. Besides, Ari commands your attention.

He grips your hips and in a swift move has you straddling him. One hand moves up, to cup your chin, while he slides the other hand over his tattoo of ownership and under your dress.

He brings your face closer, with a swipe of his tongue coaxing your lips to part wider. When he kisses you, you melt into him all pliant. Your own tongue gives a little kitten lick, which you know Ari really likes.

He probes further between your thighs, tattooed fingers touching your bare folds.

“No panties, little lamb?” Ari’s breath tickles your lips. His voice is sweet and tempting like molasses, but also deceptive and suffocating like a tar.

“Is it because you’re a good girl, or a bad girl?” he chuckles, spreading you at the seam.

A moan rolls out on your tongue as his fingers expertly draw out your wetness. It was your doom from the very beginning, how easily both of them played your body, despite your emotional state being far from turned on. But they taught you to crave it. Got you addicted to their touch, to the teasing, as well to the merciless fucking.

“Both,” you roll your hips against Ari’s hand.

“Duality of a woman,” he chuckles, nipping your chin. The hand cupping your face drifts lower, his tattooed fingers curling around the front of your neck. “But you’re going to take the good girl route, lamb,” Ari hisses, clenching his fingers tighter.

With his grip around your throat, he pushes you backwards. Your back rests on his legs, head bowed backwards, almost touching the coffee table.

His fingers keep circling your clit, then dipping lower to gather your slick and rub it all over your folds. When he pushes a single digit in, your walls resist at first. But Ari’s an unyielding beast, forcing you open and making you keen.

There are people around, you’re aware of them. No protests, however, would stop either Ari or Curtis from taking what they want. When they want. Wherever they want. Humiliation simmers beneath your skin, but it’s buried deeper than arousal that Ari ignites.

There’s also a certain comfort, because while he displays your body publicly, it’s for his and Curtis’ eyes only. Nobody would dare watch you.

Your back arches as Ari thrusts a second finger along with his middle one. You stretch your arms above your head, fingers gripping the edge of the coffee table. His hand slides from your throat across your chest and down your belly, until it settles on your hip to help hold you in place.

He fucks you with his fingers long enough to have you dripping onto his lap, your core clenching as he rubs your swollen nub with his thumb.

But then he withdraws with an obscene squelch, which thankfully gets lots in the sexy beat filling the club.

Ari unzips his jeans, giving his thick cock a few strokes, smearing your slick all over. Both hands gripping your hips, he yanks you closer and spears your cunt in one stroke.

Your scream of his name makes him grin. Lips curling in a triumphant, sinister smirk, Ari moves your body to meet his thrusts. He loves the way your body just gives in to whatever he wants to do to you. And the remnants of resistance taste so delicious when he breaks through them.

“That’s it, lamb.” He taunts when your pussy tightens around him.

With you bowed back, your hips arched, his cock gets to ram into that sweet spot that turns you into a messy slut. Over and over again.

Your nipples poke through the fabric of your dress, your mouth falls open, spluttering incoherent sounds and mewls. You make a beautiful, ruined view. Though no, not yet ruined enough. But they will work on that.

Ari’s gaze travels from your bouncing breasts, nearly spilling out of your dress, down to where your puffy folds hug his cock. Glistening, pink tightness that stretches around his intrusion.

Their perfect pussy.

“Go on. Come all over my cock, like a good girl,” he speeds up his pace slightly, thumbs rubbing back and forth along the junctures of your thighs.

You fall over the edge with a helpless cry, pleasure rolling through you in heated waves. And it goes on as Ari continues to fuck you through it. He starts pulling you to him harder. Hungrier. Burying his cock to the hilt, your wetness smearing over his jeans. Rough edge of the zipper bites into your skin each time your buttocks press into his pelvis.

A silhouette appears above you. A dark, threatening shape against the strobe lights.

Curtis’ head tilts to the side as he looks down at you. He holds a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, which he brings to his lips. He takes a sip, watching you writhe in pleasure.

He dips two of his fingers in the amber liquid before bending down to slide them between your parted lips. Spicy flavor trickles down your throat. Your tongue struggles against the pressure of digits, which Curtis keeps pressing against it.

He feels your saliva pooling around his fingers. Though the music in the club drowns out the sound, he feels your gurgling as you’re kept on that edge between choking and freedom.

After a beat he pulls back and sits on the sofa beside Ari. A part of you wants to look his way and assess what torment he’s brewing for you, but you fear to know. Also the pleasure Ari keeps stoking is too distracting to focus on anything else.

Until calloused fingers circle your swollen clit with purpose.

You’re not so out of it yet to not know it’s Curtis' hand. Ari’s are clamped on your hips, moving you like a ragdoll.

He draws tight circles. Slow ones, then a few faster, then slow again. You whine, jerking in Ari’s iron grip. His low laugh indicates he won’t be coming to your aid; not when your sensitive nub being played with provides him so much pleasure, because your cunt tightens anew.

Curtis’ touch disappears for a second. Only to come back with heavy torment.

His palm lands a smack on your clit, causing you to cry out.

Your thighs tremble, muscles tensing as instinct urges you to close them and protect yourself from the torment. But you’re spread open, Ari’s body nestled between your thighs and holding them open.

Curtis slaps your clit again and your body bows. One of your arms reaches down, trying to shield yourself. Strong fingers cage your wrist.

“Don’t even try it, lamb.” Curtis leans forward and growls; he clenches his fingers on your wrist. “Keep your hands away from our pussy.”

With a whine, you stretch your arm above your head. Your wrist pulses with pain.

Curtis’ palm pats your mound. His fingers dive back to your clit, drawing wicked eights that contrast with the steady, rough pounding Ari continues.

“You may squirm and cry, lamb,” Curtis teases, “but you’re going to cum from having your clit spanked. And you’re going to cream all over Ari’s cock, like a good little slut.”

Five more swats deliver his prediction.

Your whole body seems to lock in a spasm, your very fingertips turn numb. Ari groans a curse as your pussy tightens like a vise, your silky walls clinging to him desperately. Despite the tightness, there’s so much wetness leaking around his cock and onto his lap.

Your temples are wet, too; tears streaming along with your smudged mascara.

As your orgasm continues to roll, your cunt finally eases some of the tension. But the aftershocks have your walls rhythmically pulsing, which turns out to be enough to stimulate Ari’s cock.

It twitches inside of you and your pussy clenches in response. Ari moans, digging his fingers into your skin and jerking his hips. Hot, thick ropes of cum fill you.

They keep you tipped back until the last drop of his spend pours into you. When they finally pull you up and Ari’s cock slips out, you know to clench as hard as you can, to spill as little of his cum as possible.

Ari swallows your ragged breath, taking your mouth in gentler possession than he’s taken your body. Your clasped hands rest against his chest and you lean in sweetly, with a little needy mewl. He gives you that softer kiss you’re pleading for.

They arrange you, spreading you on both of their laps. Your lower half rests on Ari’s thighs, his big hands slowly rubbing warmth into your calves and up your thighs. Your upper body rests in Curtis’ lap, head tipped on his thigh.

You look up at him; his cold, blue eyes holding your gaze.

Once again he dips his fingers into whiskey and brings them to your lips. You suckle obediently.

On the third pass, Curtis presses his fingers deeper and holds them. On the fourth, he not only pushes them against your tongue, but hooks down so that your jaw opens wider.

He spits into your mouth.

When he withdraws his fingers, you swallow without prompting. Some responses they have conditioned into you.

Ari’s hand slides between your thighs and up. His fingers dip into the sticky mess pooling between your folds, despite your attempts at holding it in. You can’t stifle the moan that spills as he pushes two fingers into your aching hole. But that sound cuts short when Curtis’ whiskey-soaked fingers fill your mouth again.

Three this time. Forced to the back of your throat, making you gag.

Curtis holds them in, until your eyes tear up. Then starts fucking your mouth slowly, but always deep, always making you choke.

Ari curls his fingers, but doesn’t move. Just wiggles them slightly, driving you mad with the teasing so close to your g-spot.

Your saliva coats Curtis’ fingers, strings of spit smearing on your chin each time he withdraws before forcing his hand back in. He pries your mouth open, tugging your tongue out. Rubbing the pads of his fingers against your tongue, he spits into your mouth again.

You keep your mouth open, tongue sticking out, when Curtis moves his hand away. He didn’t tell you to close your lips and the jangle of the belt buckle suggests he’d be ordering to open it again, anyway. Tip of his cock brushes your cheek when Curtis takes it out. He grips the base in one hand; his other slips to the back of your head.

You turn your head as he guides you, tongue flicking against the veiny underside of cock that fills your mouth.

It’s more difficult to take a lot of him in this position, on your side, with your cheek pressed against the harsh fabric of his black jeans. Curtis forces it anyway, careless of the choking sounds you make.

Using his hold on your hair, he starts moving your head. Steady, but always uncomfortably far; causing your body to tense as gag reflex kicks in too hard.

“Want her to come, while she’s sucking you?” Ari asks, wiggling his fingers in your tight channel. They both laugh when you moan at the stimulation.

“Not yet.” Curtis shakes his head. His gaze drifts down to you as he holds your head in place. “She’s going to warm my cock while I make some calls. And wait for her reward like a good girl. Right lamb?” He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.

Everything is pulsing - from the changing beat reverberating through the walls of the club; the buzz of the gang members going across the VIP floor this and that way; the throbbing of Curtis cock in your mouth; to your clit demanding attention.

Like he said, Curtis holds two phone calls. Each long and detailed, though you’re sure it’s not because he needed all that information. He wanted you to suffer. Ari’s fingers keep moving. Constantly. But too light, too slow, not deep enough. Yet he has you dripping all over his hand; which he keeps angled in a way that deprives your clit of any stimulation.

Your whole body rouses to attention, almost giddy, when Curtis finally ends the call and tosses his phone to the side.

He looks down at you and grins; as beautiful as sinister looking.

He traces his fingers along your cheek, with deceiving tenderness. It’s gone in a blink of an eye. He fists your hair and pulls you down on him, at the same time thrusting his hips up.

Along with him, Ari starts fucking you with his fingers.

You’re gagging each time Curtis makes your nose press against the fabric of his jeans. Sloppy, gurgling noises of your mouth moving along dick match the lewd sound of squelching as Ari’s fingers push in and out of your pussy.

Though there’s relentless build-up, your orgasm hits unexpectedly, as if forced by one particular thrust. Your body tensens like a string, toes curling. You twist to the side as much as they’ll allow you, digging your fingers into Curtis’ ribs. Your moans vibrate around his cock, making his hips jerk into you sharply.

He slides even deeper and your lungs constrict from lack of air. Tears stream down your cheeks. Your throat closes around intrusion, causing Curtis to grunt in peak pleasure.

When salty warmth spills suddenly down your throat, your vision goes black for a few seconds.

Your breath returns in a sharp intake, a small coughing fit following when Curtis mercifully rolls your head away. His cock is still throbbing, spurting ropes of cum into your mouth and across your face.

He slides the tip into your mouth again and you close your lips around it, hollow your cheeks and suck the last drops.

Ari’s hand retreats from between your thighs. He licks his fingers clean, savoring the flavor of your combined spend. When he reaches for his own glass of whiskey it’s not to chase away the taste.

Curtis downs the rest of his drink, too, before tucking himself back into his pants. He unties the skull-printed bandana from around his neck and uses it to clean your face.

They help you up into a sitting position, keeping you between them. Ari brings his glass to your lips, giving you a sip. You grimace. You were never a fan of whiskey, but what’s worse is that spicy booze doesn’t help the burning in your mouth and throat. But then Ari’s scooping a half-melted ice cube from the tumbler and slips it between your lips. You hum appreciatively as the cold water soothes your used throat.

You stay curled between them for a few more minutes. They’re not touchy, definitely not cuddlers; but they remain close to you. Their warmth keeps you anchored. When they put you on your feet some time later, you stumble slightly. It wasn’t the hardest fucking they ever subjected you to, but you’re tired nonetheless.

You slide your arms into the sleeves of Curtis’ black leather jacket when he offers it to you. It’s soaked in his scent and so warm.

You bury your nose in the collar of the jacket as you sit in the backseat of the car when Max takes you back to the penthouse. The city may be shiny with lights and neons, but the darkness holding it in its grasp is undeniable. And the grim reapers behind that darkness are gliding the streets with a roar.

On their motorcycles, Ari and Curtis flank the car you’re in. Escorting you back to your forever prison.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #ari levinson x reader x curtis everett #chris evans smut #ari levinson fic #curtis everett fic #dark!Ari Levinson #dark!Curtis Everett #biker!Ari Levinson #biker!Curtis Everett #fic: gasoline

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lilacevans · 11 months ago

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𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘… 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜?

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 ༊*·˚ | take a peak here! •°. *࿐

✧* meet the brothers | meet the uncles | check out the playlist *✧

the concept *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ��｡˚ -> gif set one - pete finds out

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set two - ari meets with his uncle

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set three - the boys are arguing, again

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set four - anywhere you want | pete brenner

meet the family *✧ ༊*·˚

*updated daily!

the introduction *✧ ༊*·˚

opening night *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the regulars

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> visitor: ransom drysdale

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the staff (coming soon!)

pete's place presents: the drabbles. *✧ ༊*·˚

*minors need not interact. this is a 18+ space.

*this is a dark au, with heavy topics & triggers. happy endings do not happen here.

#chris evans #— lila’s secret project🤎#chris evans fic #chris evans imagine #pete brenner fic #pete brenner #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen fic #curtis everett #curtis everett fic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #jake jensen fic #jake jensen #ari levinson #ari levinson fic #pete's place #lila writes

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syntheticavenger · 4 months ago

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Heart of Glass - Part Eight

Since it's been a year... I give you my latest installment. A little self-conscious with this chapter but I hope I got it right. Let me know what you think. I’d like to thank Victoria Monet’s ‘Cadillac’ for the inspiration for this chapter.

Heart of Glass Masterlist

Therapist! Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, unprotected sex, aftercare.

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary | A bad breakup lands you in the office of Dr. Curtis Everett, who seeks to help you further at the request of your local therapist, due to his renowned talent in his niche profession.

Cameras flash, voices carrying over each other to get your attention. Curtis’ fingers are intertwined with yours, leading you through the small path allotted by security from the restaurant to the waiting car. The act of your hand in his own shouldn’t elicit such a reaction but the understanding that you’ve been touch starved more than you are willing to admit makes you grip his hand tighter.

He wastes no time opening the door for you, closing it while more people shout his name, the lights from the cameras lighting up the car.

“Fuckin’ vultures,” Curtis mutters when he finally gets in, looking at your face. “You alright?”

“I thought they’d be gone by now,” you admit, pressing your hand to your heart to feel your heart beating rapidly. “Does that happen every time you go out?”

“Only when I have a date so, no,” Curtis allows with a wink. “You ready to go?”

At your nod, he accelerates, the car shooting forward as he takes a tight turn, the velocity making you laugh as he heads toward the freeway.

“We’ll be home soon.”

You don’t admit how that makes your stomach flutter at the sound, especially since you know that it isn’t your home he’s mentioning.

When he helps you out of the car, he gives you a spin, letting you go before he closes the door behind you. Holding out his hand, you take it, Curtis leading you up the steps of his house.

Every single house looks like it could have been taken out of a magazine, an architect’s dream as you slightly look back, careful of your steps as you go up the stairs slowly. More importantly, you’re aware of he holds your hand in his own, his fingers warm against your own.

When he opens the door, your mouth parts in surprise, the entry like a bridge to the living room, a pond underneath the bridge.

“A pond?” you ask, Curtis standing behind you as you take a step forward to look. “How…”

“It was a surprise to me too when I saw the plans.”

When you get closer, koi fish swim to the surface as you lean over to look.

“A little surprise from my architect at the time. I take good care of these guys,” Curtis says.

“Incredible.”

You can feel his eyes on you when you finally look at him as he nods for you to continue on. Going over the bridge, he’s behind you, your hands nearly touching when you glide your palms on the rails.

“It’s very fancy.”

“I’m more of a minimalist but they’re a nice touch,” he agrees, motioning to the right. “Kitchen is that way.”

Stainless steel appliances and black lacquered cabinets await you, everything carefully decorated when he turns on the light, taking off his shoes in a swift move, padding into the kitchen.

“Pick your poison,” he offers, heading to the built-in wet bar.

“I’ll have a scotch, please.”

“Scotch,” Curtis says with a raise of his eyebrow. “I would have taken you for a gin sort.”

“Gin?”

“Sophisticated. Architects have a way about them.”

“Like what?” you inquire, Curtis handing you your drink as he raises his to yours. The glasses clink slightly before he answers you.

“Complex without being overbearing.”

You take a sip, Curtis following suit.

“Complex,” you repeat. “That’s now how I would describe myself.”

“Then you’re not giving yourself enough credit. Complex doesn’t need to have a negative connotation. Everything about you is complex because you don’t outwardly offer your feelings.”

“I think I’ve been pretty open.”

He laughs at your comment, nodding in agreement.

“But the treatment that I offered, that was complex. Broke a few of my own set rules but it worked. You’re a complex woman and I find that insanely sexy.”

You swallow the last of your drink, seeing him take another sip.

“It’s a good thing that I was cured then. You won’t have to break any more of your rules,” you add, seeing him set down his glass.

“How would you know what other rules I’d be willing to break?”

Your mouth goes dry at his question, licking your lips as he cages you against the wall.

“I was guessing.”

“Hmm,” he replies, his eyes gazing at your body. “There’s only one way to find out. Can I touch you?”

You nod, almost too furiously for your good when he lowers himself down, his hands at your hips, his fingers sliding down the fabric of your dress and down to your bare skin. He doesn’t break eye contact with you, hands slipping under your dress as he pulls the fabric up.

He leans in, kissing your thighs, your own hands rolling into fists as he inches closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. You can feel his breath, warm and dangerously close when he leans in, keeping you steady when his tongue finds your covered clit, applying just enough pressure for you to whimper.

“Satin is a nice touch,” he tells you, slipping thumbs under the band. “I wouldn’t want to ruin such a pretty pair but I need to see what I’ve been dreaming about.”

He pulls them down slowly, letting them pool at your feet, carefully lifting up each leg so that you’re finally free. The urge to hide from him, to hold your dress in place is overwhelming.

There is a hunger – a desire – in his eyes that you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.

You’re exposed to him, but it doesn’t matter, your eyes on his arms flexing when his thumb slowly swipes against your clit, back and forth until your hips move forward.

“Easy,” he warns gently, tasting you as you swallow hard. “Just like I thought. Amazing.”

You aren’t prepared for how his mouth feels, wet and hot as he’s gentle, learning you centimeter by centimeter, your fingernails scoring against his scalp. Your breath halts when his tongue laves over your clit, over and over until you forget to breathe again.

“You okay?”

Nodding, your head falls back against the wall when you feel his fingers ease up inside you.

Stretching, caressing keeping time with the tempo of his mouth on your clit.

“C…”

There’s no use in trying to finish saying his name, your hands holding him in place as he brings you to the brink, your legs buckling before you feel him hold you up as you shatter.

“One so far,” he says, looking up at you with a sly smile. “We’re barely getting started.”

He stands up fluidly, your boldness peaking when you pull on his shirt to bring him closer.

“One of how many?” you ask, seeing his devious smile.

“That depends,” he replies. “How many do you want to give me?”

There’s no set number in your mind, only the want – need – to have him that propels you forward, your lips on his, tasting yourself that only spurns you to kiss him deeper as he takes control, his hand at the side of your neck, breaking the kiss to turn your head slightly, drawing your skin into his mouth as he sucks it gently but deep enough that you can feel the sweet pressure and sends shockwaves down to your belly.

“I’ll give you a choice,” he says, breaking the kiss. “Dress on or off before you go upstairs.”

You’ve never been exposed like this before, especially knowing the only thing you’ll be wearing are your heels.

Whatever you choose, you’ll know he’ll accept without question. The freedom to decide how you’ll end up in his bed may be insignificant to him – though you hope not – it feels freeing to know that he’s letting you make the decision.

Turning around, you hear it: the slight suck in of his breath, looking over your shoulder as your eyes plead silently for him to help you.

“Bold move,” he praises, his fingers unzipping your dress.

As it slips down your shoulders, his lips brush against the tops of your shoulders and at the back of your neck when it pools at your feet.

“Absolutely unreal,” Curtis says, taking your hand as he turns you around in a circle, his appreciative gaze making you even wetter than you thought possible.

“Up the stairs and to the left,” Curtis directs. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Every step you take, your insecurities come racing back. Despite every body being a good body, you’re aware of your own shortcomings, the ones you see in the mirror when the confident façade slips. You’re aware of how your hips sway, certain imperfections that you can only imagine will be amplified with you only wearing your black stilettos.

“You look absolutely perfect,” he says behind you, as if he’s reading your mind.

“I’ve never been this… exposed,” you whisper in the darkness, Curtis right behind you as you can feel his arousal, cradled right between your ass.

“I guessed since tt’s taking you a while to get up the stairs. Not that I’m complaining in the slightest,” he assures you, kissing your cheek. “But you’re going to kill me with that perfect view.”

A slight tap of his hand against your ass makes you involuntarily moan, gripping the banister for a moment as you look back at him.

“You’re dripping,” he says, his eyes wandering between your thighs. “Making a nice mess if I do say so myself.”

You finally reach the top of the stairs, the cool air doing nothing to stop the ache between your legs when you make the left toward his room. You’ll marvel at the work of his upstairs when you’re not thinking about how you’re going to get wrecked, Curtis pushing the door open for you as you step into his room.

Black silk sheets.

“It’s not fair, you know,” you finally say, turning your body to face him. “I’m the only one underdressed.”

“I don’t think I’d look as good as you do,” Curtis answers you, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “But I can oblige if you want.”

“I want to help.”

His hands lower to his sides, letting you take over to finish unbuttoning his shirt, your hands resting on his chest. Tattoos are etched on his chest, your fingers outlining them as you trail down, unbuckling his belt as you see his Adam’s apple bob, perspiration on his forehead.

“Am I going too slow?”

“You take all the time you need.”

His voice pulls at your core, hands deftly ridding him of his belt and then buttoning his slacks. He’s hard as a rock when you accidently brush against him, his composure strong as steel when you pull down his boxers and pants. His cock springs free, long and thick, your eyes dropping down to look at it appreciatively. Gone are the thoughts of finishing getting him undressed, your hand reaching out to touch him gently, fingers wrapping around the length of him, his eyes closing in response.

“How can you be so calm,” you whisper against him. “I can’t believe I’m…”

Pre-cum makes your grip slicker, his head tilting up as you kiss his throat, his hands going to your face as he kisses you, kicking off his pants. He walks you toward the bed, stopping right when you can feel the bed behind you.

When you reach to take the heels off, he shakes his head.

“I meant what I said. Heels on until I say so.”

He prides himself on self-control. He’s lasted this long with his wits about him, to know that patience is always much sweeter but he knows he can’t wait much longer when your sweet voice pitches as your thighs try to close together, his hands gripping them so you don’t use them as his earmuffs.

All he can think about is how gorgeous you look when you come apart - three times now - just by where he touches, learning your body as you react to his touch. Your lips are parted, chest rising and falling as your hands cover your breasts. It’s laughable for a moment if it wasn’t so excruciatingly painful how badly he wants to be inside you. Your legs are still over his shoulders, Curtis caressing your calves before he looks back at your swollen cunt.

“I’m not going to get enough of how good you taste.”

Your eyes are half lidded, mouth moving but no sound coming out when he carefully eases you off of him, gently removing your heels as they fall to the ground. He kisses your brow, your hands going to his neck to keep him in place.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he admits, his cock nestled between your legs.

“I need you,” you mouth, kissing him deeply and he swears your legs are opening wider when he reaches for the drawer. “I want to just feel you. I’m clean.”

You’re bartering, his smile against your lips as you kiss him again. You’re uninhibited, vulnerable and the progress you’ve made makes him greedy, a flash of possessive that he shuts out when he kisses down your neck.

“Me too but it’s still dangerous,” he warns gently, seeing you shake your head slowly, nodding to your arm.

“Implant. You can’t leave a legacy,” you tease, your eyes closing in bliss when he’s cradled against your entrance. “I want you, I’ve tried to ignore it but -”

That’s all he needs, inching slowly inside you as your fingernails score his back. You’re tight, wet and hot, gritting his teeth as he tries to maintain what shreds of composure he has left, reaching the hilt of you when you left out a soft whimper.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you murmur. “Just…”

“Big?”

He can tell you want to laugh at his joke but he knows the truth, seeing you finally relax before you urge him to move. You’re like a vise, his control slipping with every single thrust, your soft little noises urging him on.

He needs to see ore of you, rolling you onto your side, your thigh on his hip as the new angle makes your mouth drop open, exposing you in a way that makes your fingers give him better access.

You’re close, he can feel the way your silky walls squeeze him tighter, your incessant pleas for him not to stop only urging him on. He commits the way your pretty face looks to memory, knowing that you’ve fundamentally changed how he sees you – how your body reacts to him – and how freely you’ve given yourself to him.

“Fuck,” he grits out, keeping you in place as he cums, filling you as you cling to him.

“Oh god, I… oh, I…” you pant, not letting him go. “I can’t see straight.”

“We’re not done,” he promises, smoothing back your hair as he holds you close. “Not by a long shot, four.”

“Five,” you whisper against his lips, closing your eyes.

Your eyes are barely open when you feel the slight dip in the bed, a glass of water in front of you.

“You need to drink something,” Curtis reminds you softly, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “I ran you a nice bath. Just waiting for you.”

“What time is it?”

“Two or three,” he answers, kissing your cheek.

“Mmm,” you mumble, eyes closing again. “I’ll get up if you come with me.”

“That was the plan.”

#curtis everett #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x black female reader #curtis everett fic

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 months ago

Text

Much Too Fast, Part 5

Summary: it's time for everyone to talk

Pairings: Curtis X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings: explicit language, Curtis and Tati arguing, flashing, sexual tension/frustration, skinny dipping, wet/dry humping, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.9K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“And say please,” Poet slams her hands on the high chair, screeching, and you shake your head no. “Poe, you have got to say please,” your voice is still so soft, but the sweet baby slams her hands on the high chair, screaming out no.

“Poet!” Poet looks at Tati, puckering out her bottom lip, looking up at you sympathetically. Tati’s patience with Poet was virtually nonexistent, “I am tired, and I don’t want to listen to this screaming!” Poet lifts her hands up, making grabby hands up at you. Big drops of tears hug her lash line, and she softly whispers please. You didn’t want her to say please because of screaming. But you will hold her when she needs comforting.

Tati massages her temples. Circling her fingers over and over the area, paying you no mind, so you pull Poet out of her high chair. Shushing her as you bounce her around. The rules never seem to make sense when Tati is here. She wants Poet to learn to be independent, but when she’s here she just wants her daughter to be appeased as long as she’s quiet. Whatever it takes to keep her from making noise.

“Tati?”

“What?” You hold Poet even tighter at her mom’s harsh word. She never looks at you; just stays preoccupied with nursing her tender head.

“Can I ask you a question?” A question made things seem mild. You had so many questions to ask her, and none of which involved her daughter. You second guess this conversation because it truly wasn’t any of your business, but Curtis had made it your business. Over and over again he has made it your business because he is too persistent and needy, and dammit, you’re cracking.

Her arms slam on the table, and she glares at you. Her beady perfectly lines eyes bore holes into yours for daring to try and talk to her. For someone who’s head hurts, she’s being painfully noisy with that slap on the wood. She looks so irritated that you’re talking to her that you nearly change your mind. “Are you wanting a raise or something?”

“No.”

“No? Hmm, well, fine, I’ll give you a raise,” now she massages the bridge of her nose, ignoring you yet again. So you clear your throat, “What is it now?”

“My questions,” she moves her hand from her nose, glaring at you again. Clearly multiple questions isn’t something she wants to entertain. “I’m sorry, it’s just one question,” why did you fear her? Was it because she held a lot in her hands? “Umm, it’s probably none of my business.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t ask it. Grace, can you just spit it out. I really don’t have time for this. I have a headache, and I’m tired, and ready to take a nap,” that’s what she’s always doing here. You’re aware that you’re the nanny, but who was the mother?

“I’m very confused with yours and Curtis’ dynamics and relationship.”

Tati snorts, shaking her head. Her manicured fingers roll over the table before she looks at them like she’s bored. “That isn’t a question. But I should have figured. My husband is a very traditionally attractive man. But he’s stunted,” what a weird fucking thing to say about that man that spends more time with her daughter than she does. “I know there’s a lot of things about him that you may find attractive, but you deserve better.”

That took a turn. She didn’t know that you knew about her not even finding Curtis attractive sexually. She didn’t know that you knew that she had another life with a woman. You almost have a feeling she’s in love with that woman, and you’re falling for Curtis, but didn’t feel comfortable with this predicament. You didn’t want to share, you wanted him all to yourself. And Poet.

“No, I don’t love that man,” rude. There’s something that sits so grossly in your stomach about ‘that man’. That is the father of her beautiful daughter. And one she didn’t spend much time with. One that was tapping on your arm, and smiling up at you. “Curtis and I have never even been in love. This was a mistake. I got to go,” she pushes her chair back, standing abruptly before those stilettos click out of the kitchen.

There had to be some form of warmth that she possessed at some point for Curtis to have been friends with her. But now all you see is stress, and disdain for her life here at this house. Bitterness always coats her face and actions. She slams the door behind her, and Poet looks up at you gasping with a smile before she throws both hands up, “Yay!”

“You’re rotten, you know that?”

“Yep. Uh!” She looks out the back door, and to the pool. She loves swimming and spending the days outside. She’d swim in her float or your arms all day. Tati didn’t give you any clear indications on where you were with things. She didn’t give much at all other than she wasn’t in love, and Curtis wasn’t worth the time for you. And you didn’t believe that at all. You see how he loves his daughter, and know he has so much more love to give to a partner.

There is a part of you that wants to take Tati’s advice because this is a complete mess. It’s a disaster area. But you know what you feel when you’re with him. You know the way he looks at you, and smiles at you. And you love his daughter. This is all much too fast, and you didn’t know how to slam the breaks on it, but maybe you weren’t meant to.

Tati gave you absolutely no answers other than she didn’t love Curtis. She might not have told you that they didn’t have sex, but judging by her answers, you doubt she does anything with Curtis. But…dammit, you feel so conflicted. An ache sits in your stomach because you are too attached. You want him, and Poet, and want to go on a date, and not be hidden out here while she galivants around the world with her girlfriend. You want to be proud to be with Curtis.

“Poe Poe, if you eat your breakfast, we can go swimming, okay?”

“Tay,” she makes her sweet grabby hands for her plate, and you place her back in the high chair. “Pes!” she’s learning manners, and that’s more than you can say for her horny dad or hateful mother.

Tati’s car is in the garage. Your car is here. And there’s a very cute distinctive giggle coming from the pool. His kryptonite. And now you’ve brought his daughter into it. He sighs, walking out of the garage and to the back of the house. Stopping at the fence to stare at you slightly splashing Poet just to make her giggle.

Her chunky little legs kick about, causing her tube to spin around, and then you pick her up out of the tube. You lift her above your head, fully standing up out of water, and his mouth falls open. Poet giggles down at you, as streams of water flow down your curves. You’re too sexy to be holding his daughter.

And then you squat back down into the water, taking Poet with you, and she splashes around. Continuing to giggle, and smile up at you. She crashes her mouth into you kissing your jawline. Having a time of her life in the dreaded pool. The bane of his existence. This is bad. Great, and amazing. But bad. Too many feelings and emotions course through his bloodstream. Warmth and passionate heat.

He looks down at his pants, taking a deep breath, and telling himself that he would really like to join in the family swimming time, so he needs to calm down. Inhale and exhale. Relax, and get your fucking mind out of the gutter. Who knew he had a goddamn breeding kink because all he can think about is enjoying fucking a baby into you. Not accidentally, but pumping you full of him every night until it stuck. He’s a disgusting man.

Once he’s centered himself, he slings the gate open, and Poet screams at him, “Dada!”

“Hey, baby. Do you mind if I change and come swim with you and Grace?”

“Yay!”

“I was wondering when you were going to come inside the gate, instead of lingering out there watching us,” his tongue slowly exits his mouth, and he traces his luscious bottom lip with it. Pulling the lip back in his mouth where he bites on it. Smirking and shrugging while walking to his bedroom. “He’s a menace,” a fucking menace that makes you squeeze your thighs together, and regulate your breathing because you’re holding a baby, and can’t do anything about the need to touch and rub on him.

Poet giggles, blowing raspberries and points all over the pool. Telling you, in her way, where she wants to swim to. You ferry her around the pool, letting her splash along the way. The happiest baby you’ve ever met, and when she playfully gasps, and looks towards her dad’s room, that smile gets even bigger.

Curtis and his hairy tits jog to the diving board, and he dives it. Swimming under water towards you, and you back away, “Dada go?” Poet looks at the dark figure that travels in the water, until he pops up right in front of her face. He grabs onto your hips, keeping you in place, and she begs for him to hold her. “Dada!”

“Hey, baby girl. Come ‘ere,” reaching for her he makes sure to give your side more than too much of a touch. He skims his hands from your hips up your side, and you bite back a whimper. That devilish grin pops up as he stares so intently at you. “What have you and Grace been doing today? Just being water babies?” She smiles, laughing up at him.

“You got home early.”

“I liked what I was coming home to,” silence. You can’t respond to that without sounding like a twittering school girl, or a hateful bitch. He sure knows how to lay things on thick, and it just makes you weak. In an alternative life, you can imagine him coming home, and being all excited while you playfully flirt, and still have fun with the kids. You can see him smacking your ass playfully, while the kids are too busy to see their parents are setting up the long foreplay for the night.

Having hours of buildup, until each and every one of the kids are asleep, and Curtis and you lock the door, and have fun with each other’s bodies. It seems so easy, and yet this situation is a mess. Tati at least let you know that there aren't any lingering feelings with Curtis.

“I spoke with your wife today,” you begin. Curtis dips his mouth underwater, pretending to play with Poet, but he’s watching you. Too much. “She confirmed about not having any feelings. But she didn’t seem to think too highly of you, and that makes me confused.”

“Probably because I wasn’t enough to make her straight, because being attracted to women is who she is, and it’s easier to blame other people than accept that, and there’s no one at fault here. Tati being in love with a woman shouldn’t hurt anyone. The issue is that it has stalled me from moving on with you. It’s not fair to Monica either. It’s not fair to Poe because this baby knows that while her mom wouldn’t hurt her, she doesn’t want to be a full time part of her life. And I don’t think she enjoys her very much,” you can confirm that. But he already knows.

You wade the water. Making circles around his body, and he spins right along with you. Looking between you and Poet. “I’m crazy, but this feels right. Playing in the pool with my two favorite girls. Staring at your nipples poking through your bathing suit.”

“Curtis!” the bastard laughs as you circle your hands over your chest. “You are holding a baby.”

“She can’t really talk now.”

“Is all our conversations going to end up in the perverted realm of things?” Is there more than this burning desire to just fuck each other? Or is the need to have each other shadowing anything else?

“No,” you raise your eyebrows in a challenge. “No, but I think sex should be fun. I think that life is too serious, and why can’t I shamelessly flirt with a girl I find attractive?” That’s not flirting, and he knows it. That is being a horny devil.

“I don’t want that serious of a relationship with someone. I’ve done the five star restaurants, and the dinners with family and it’s this big ordeal. I don’t want that. I want to have fun. I want to be able to joke with you,” that boyish grin fades a moment. “This house is beautiful, and perfect in its way, but I don’t need this. I do like this pool.”

“Do you?” You couldn’t tell he liked it at all…

“Yeah,” his voice is menacingly low. And you feel it right to your core. You wade further away from him. Keeping your hands low in the water. It’s wrong, and you know it is. But sometimes a little teasing never hurt anyone. Poet is paying attention too much attention to her dad’s beard. That beautiful face of hair. A face that you would like to ride, and instead you’re going to rub one out alone. Again.

You grab a side of the gusset of your panties, moving it to the side. But you think twice about it, and pull it back to cover yourself. Had he not had that sweet baby in his arms, you would have asked him to look under the water. He makes you want to sin in too many ways.

“It’s hard to try and figure out what is acceptable when there’s a baby between us. But you can try that again tonight. When you meet me out here after Poet’s put to bed,” he stalks towards the shallow end of the pool. Backing you up. Up. And up, until you collapse on the stairs. “I’d really like to see what I’ve been missing. Without touching that is.”

“On one condition,” your voice is so hoarse, and you try to keep some decency. You’re too weak when it comes ot him.

“Anything.”

“You talk to Tati tonight. She can’t hold your feelings hostage forever. And I don’t want to wait on you forever. I’m greedy and I want you right now.”

Poet splashes and splashes, reaching towards you before Curtis relinquishes her into your arms. “What if…what if I talk to her, and she doesn’t like my ultimatum? Because I think she knows.”

“Knows what?” You know what time it is. If Tati is going to be here, she’s already here, and about to have her takeout delivered. She could already be walking to the door. Maybe she’s peeked outside the window, wondering what the noise was. Right now you didn’t care. You’re willing to break all the rules for just a kiss. Just a chance of normalcy for a moment.

You know exactly what he’s talking about as he gets closer. Looming over you with that giant stature, and ignoring Poet pulling down your top and exposing yourself. Curtis puts his nose right on yours, and you forget how to breathe. Have to focus on the rise and fall of his chest because you’re breathing is irregular.

“She knows I’m finally falling for someone. She knows that this has been a slow road, because she knows normally, I just fuck and move on. That’s why she chose me,” he pulls your top to cover your body again. “She thought I’d never ask for a divorce.”

You swallow deeply. Ignoring the door closing. He wanted to get caught, so he can have a discussion with her. “So are you asking for a divorce?”

“You said I have to if I want to be with you,” Curtis stands up, reaching for his daughter, and you hand her off. Letting him walk out of the pool. “And I want to actually try something real for once, so I want to be with you.”

You let out a long breath. Watching as he walks into his room with Poet. Surely going to dry both of them off, and dress so they can join Tati for dinner. Your chest heaves as you let the intensity of that moment wash over you. It leaves you in such a weird spot because Tati is your employer. And here you just were ready to flash her husband your cunt, while he held her daughter. You are losing all self control and self respect for yourself.

Curtis is making you crazy. Imagining that you and him were a normal couple that didn’t start off as a stranger fucking you within an inch of your life. What were you doing? You were risking everything. All of your morals. Ready to throw everything away for him. For this. To make this thing work. What the fuck? How was Tati even going to respond to that?

Whether you’re the one with Curtis or — you hate to think about it being someone else, but either way, it wasn’t fair. He deserves the chance at someone more than sex. And he’s somehow chosen you, and it makes you lightheaded. You’re horny and pent up as fuck. But you like him. Like his daughter, and in order for this to work, you do need to show some decorum and just wait.

Sighing, you get up out of the pool yourself. You need food. Probably alcohol. But definitely food. And to fuck yourself, so you’re not so fucking horny when you meet Curtis at the pool when the lights go outside. That pool is an aphrodisiac. You get in it and you need body parts touching. Ugh! Why is this so hard to not be such a slut with him? You’re horny. You’re just horny. It has nothing to do with actually having feelings for him.

Nope. Not you. Food. Come. Alcohol. Make yourself come again? How many times would it take so you’re not ready to jump on top of Curtis and ride him like your life depended on it? Alcohol. Just a little, not a lot. You can do this. You and Curtis were going to talk, and see where this goes. That’s all. That’s absolutely all you were going to do. Yep.

Curtis’ fingers roll on the table, and he looks at Poet. Then at the table. Then his Chinese takeout. Then his chopsticks. Then back to Poet. Everywhere but his ‘wife’. And Tati just glares at him. Chewing her food slowly, and being too aggressive with the chopsticks.

Watching the coward as he blatantly ignores her. After the conversation with you this morning, she could tell you wanted to fuck her husband. And judging by the two of you in the pool, he wanted to fuck you, too. Asshole. How dare he dishonor the marriage like that. He didn’t care about how it made her look. He just needs to get his dick wet.

She knows she’s being ridiculous, and Curtis knows about Monica. He’s met Monica. Actually likes her. But he is sneaking behind her back. He’s probably snuck right into that pool house, and fucked you already. Walking around, and pretending that he’s never touched you. Jerk. He’s such a pig headed man.

She lays her chopsticks on the side of her bowl, places her elbows on the table, and then rests her chin on her arms. That sickeningly sweet business smile spreads over her face, but lacks any warmth. “How long have you been fucking the nanny?”

Curtis doesn’t look away from Poet at first. He gives her another bite of food before his attention goes back to Tati, “Let’s not do this in front of our daughter.”

“Oh, I know she’s our daughter. I carried her for nine fucking months, because you couldn’t pull out properly.”

“And now you fuck Monica.”

“And you’re fucking that girl!” Tati’s voice is shrill as she losing control, but Curtis’ remains collected.

“Do not call her a girl! And, no. I’m not fucking her. I have fucked her,” Tati gasps, causing Curtis’ eyes to roll in the back of her head. “Yes, Tati, it was before I even knew her. It was supposed to be a one night stand with a girl that picked me up on the side of the road.”

“You’re lucky to be alive! Poet could have lost her father, and then…”

“You’d have to actually be a mother?” Her hand slams on the table, and Curtis stands up quickly when Poet’s lip puckers out, “We’re done with this conversation since you can’t be an adult.”

“You’re cheating on me!” He chuckles, pulling Poet out of her high chair, and he holds her close to him. Letting her lay her head against his chest.

“No, I’m not. We’re not together. Just legally, and I’m — I’m filing. I’ve been patient, Tat, but you’re living a life, and I’m not. I’ve met an amazing woman, and we can’t even move forward because of this shame of a marriage. We were always supposed to be friends. Things went way too far, and now we’ve even lost our friendship. We’re roommates that share a child.”

Tati worries her lip, something she only did during deep thought, so it gives Curtis enough reason to sit down. She’s at least considering his words. He waits on her to work through everything, as long as she wasn’t raising her voice and causing Poet distress, he could be here. He reaches over to his daughter’s plate, grabbing her something to nibble on. He smiles at her, as she gnaws on her dinner..

“Tater tot.”

“Don’t call me that,” her voice is short, but it doesn’t raise, and her eyes linger on the immaculate table. “I thought we had a deal?” Tati being an only child is used to having things her way. Everything always worked out for her.

“That I stay married to you forever, when a woman that I may be in love with can never be my wife? You thought I was forever going to be slut, so that’s why you thought this stupid agreement would work forever. How does Monica feel about being your dirty secret?”

“I love her,” the confidence Tati exudes disappears, and her shoulders slump. He sounds just like Monica.

“Not enough. You roam around the world on your little vacations, but she doesn’t go to family dinners. She doesn’t have a relationship with Poet, and I told her she should,” Tati’s nose scrunches up, shaking her head no. “Can you at least say it?” She shakes her head no faster. Covering her eyes with her hand. “Tati. Just tell me, and we can move forward. Your therapist said you have to admit it.”

“I sound like a terrible person,” no, right now she sounds like a terrible person. Curtis wouldn’t hold those words against her.

“It’s only terrible if we continue this dance. I can take care of her,” Tati whispers something, but Curtis doesn’t hear her. “Tati, say it. Step one.”

“I love her in my way.”

“I know you do.”

“I’d never hurt her.”

“I have never thought you would.”

“Does,” Tati sniffles, looking up at Curtis instead of the table. Glancing at her daughter with a smile, “Does she want kids?”

“I’ve never really asked. I think so,” he knows you do. You’re a perfect mom, and you deserve a child’s firsts.

“You know I can’t just tell my parents?” Curtis shrugs. He didn’t care what she told her parents, he wanted her to tell him. “You know, that your life will forever be altered?”

“It’s been that way since she was born,” Curtis made all the changes in having a child, while she didn’t make any.

“I don’t want to be a mom,” relief floods over her body, and tears break through her polished veneer. She’s been living a lie, and didn’t know how to stop it from spiraling. Gulping, she wipes at her eyes, and shimmies her shoulders. Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. “I’ve got to go.”

“Tati?”

“Just…I don’t care, just don’t go flaunting her around town. And I won’t sign my rights over until you’re married to someone I approve of. You can have sole custody like we discussed. But…I don’t want anyone to know before I’m ready. I’m going over to Monica’s. Have the fucking house,” her heels start to click out the door, but Curtis clears his throat.

“I’ll give you two weeks,” Her mouth drops open. She isn’t usd to negotiations, especially with him. He always gave her what she wanted. “I’m done waiting, Tati. Poet will be one in three weeks. You’re not doing anyone any favors by avoiding talking to your parents. And if they have a problem with who you truly are in love with, that’s on them. You will always have me and Poet, and you can be aunt Tati.”

Curtis senses her frustration. Can tell that she is irritated, but she smiles. Her smile actually reaches her eyes, and the warmth he loved about her shines through. She really didn’t want to be a mom. “I don’t want Poet to know about you. I mean who you are to her.”

“That’s fine. I — I had my tubes tied anyways. I didn’t — she’s not a mistake, but I don’t want kids. I never wanted kids. It’s not in me. Do you hate me?” He shakes his head no, and Tati sighs. “Don’t make her hate me. Either of them. I was ugly this morning.”

“And then you ran away.”

“It’s what I do best with this situation. But I don’t run from Monica. I run to her,” Curtis silently thanks her. He knows it’s been a long time, and hard work with her therapist to say all of that. Everything she said, all that she admitted to.

“I’m proud of you, Tater Tot.”

“I said don’t call me that,” Tati smiles as she walks towards the front door. Leaving a house that was never her home. Leaving a marriage that she never wanted, a daughter she loved, but didn’t need. A daughter that she is okay to step back and not raise. Give up all that responsibility to Curtis and whatever woman he chose as Poet’s mom. And she’d sign everything away. Let his wife adopt her and Poet become hers.

And for once, she’s not running away. She’s finally going home.

The house is eerily quiet. Even in the pool house, the only thing you hear is your racing heart. Having to look into the mirror to see if you can see it beating out of your chest. Thankfully, it isn’t, but your chest heaves with bated anticipation. Wrapping a towel around your body, you sit and wait like a fool in love. With the blinds open, you stare at the lit up pool, waiting. You won’t be the first one out there, even if you’re staring into that water like it can answer your questions.

You have bared enough of yourself recently, and will soon physically do that, but you need Curtis to be the one to lose control this time. Need him to tell you what you deserve to hear. At nine o’clock on the dot Curtis emerges from his bedroom. He looks towards the pool house, before going to the diving board, and diving in.

He comes up on the other end of the pool, and sits at the table. Resting his elbows on the tile before holding his head in contemplation. Water drips down his face, and you want to lick him clean. No. No. One thing at a time. And with how you’re dressed, you’re already going to cause him to have a heart attack. Deep breaths.

You step out of the pool house, but his head remains in his palms. You walk right up to the steps, and drop your towel. Making your way into the pool too slowly. Your chest is fully submerged when Curtis lifts up. His mouth in that crooked cocky smirk when he wiggles two fingers to you. Beckoning you to come closer, and you shake your head no.

“Earlier today you were trying to show me your pussy, and now you won’t let me see your naked body?” His head tilts to the side. He’s always an observant one, especially when it comes to your body.

“It was inappropriate at the time,” he nods his head as he slides out of the chair, “You stay over there,” if he comes any closer, you’ll be begging him to lift you onto his cock.

“Why?”

“If you want me closer to you, tell me how the conversation with Tati went,” Curtis sighs. He settles back into the chair, and faces towards you. His hands slide up and down his thighs, and his legs spread ever so slightly. “That bad?”

“It wasn’t bad. She’s fighting a lot. But I told her essentially I didn’t care, and gave her a time frame of two weeks, and I’m filing for divorce,” you take a step closer, staying squatted in the pool. “Put your arms down,” you shake your head no again, and he playfully growls.

“She left,” another step forward. “She’s going to stay at Monica’s tonight. You know when we bought this house, she jokingly said that if we ever divorced, she knew I would keep Poet, so I could just have it. She’ll give me full custody. But I need to be honest with you, so if you please give me a little peek,” he’s cheeky. Like showing yourself is going to make this any better.

You drop both arms from around your chest, and Curtis gets even more comfortable. Leaning back in the chair. “Stand up,” you shake your head no again. He wanted a little peek. “You’re frustrating tonight.”

“And you’re admitting to needing to see my tits to tell me this?”

“Yes. It relaxes me,” at least he’s honest. You stand up out of the water. Streams of water fall over your breasts, dripping down your hardened nipples before you dip back into the water. “You are a tease. Go up the stairs, and spread your legs.”

“The only person that will be spreading my legs will be you,” he palms his crotch, groaning. “Curtis,” you warn. He could have it all. Well. Maybe. Maybe not tonight.

“Tati doesn’t want to be a mom, and I will gladly take that off her hands. But…I don’t date to have someone in my life. I date for someone to be in hers, too, and maybe eventually, no time soon, adoption. I usually don’t date. In fact, I told Tati that’s why she went along with whatever childish game this was. Because she never saw me settling down. She thought I was always going to be fucking women at their places.”

“Theirs?” You cock up an eyebrow. Of course Curtis would be into casual sex. He slept with you after knowing you for a couple of hours. But keeping things at their places, keeps them away from his home. His safe space.

“I never bring women into my life. And I’m just a dick in theirs. I didn’t care to be more than that. Because I don’t want to share my daughter with them. Stand up all the way,” you do without hesitation, but keep your arms around your chest, “Now walk closer to me, I need to see you better,” you do. It’s not a slow crawl, it’s a normal speed. But the time just drags on as his eyes roam over your drenched body.

He stands, meeting you halfway, and his hands grab onto your hips. Sliding back behind your back as he pulls you closer, and presses your body against his. Your skin lights on fire at the feeling of his body against yours. All hard lines, and even harder cock pressing against you, and wanting to be free, “And yet, I don’t mind sharing Poet with you.”

“This is too soon,” is it? Is it too soon? Or are you too scared?

“I know, and I still can’t stop it. I don’t know how. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to be casual with you. I never saw Tati making this place her home, and she won’t be pretending to anymore. But I need to know if you see yourself becoming Poet’s mother in the future. Tati wants to be an aunt, so…” dizzy. There’s no other word than that. Whiplash maybe. But you don’t want it to be.

Yours and Curtis’ relationship has been teasing, and slightly sexual. Ultimatums about the future, but this is for real. This is the future for a little girl. “What if I don’t want that?”

“Then give me this one night, and I’ll back away. Poet needs a mother, and it’s not Tati. I’m not saying you need to adopt her tomorrow. I’m saying she doesn’t talk much, she knows you more than her mother. Her mother is nothing but an entity to her, but you are the woman that takes care of her. I already see her preferring you over her mom. And I want you, but I need you to eventually want her. Or at least see you wanting to be her mother.”

Wiggling your arms off your chest, you sink a hand low, and cup his bulge. “Do you always get horny thinking about a future with me?”

“Everything about you makes me horny. Thinking about you pregnant, seeing you make supper, watching you sneak to Poet’s room to kiss her goodnight, watching you watching me. Everything you do is sexual to me.”

You back his body up to the chair, pushing him down onto the seat before you climb in his lap. Straddling his body while you grind on him. His cock throbs on your core, and you’ve never wanted anything more than for him to sink into you. But if you’re to take things slow, you need to just get this pent up energy out, “We’re not teenagers.”

“And we’re taking this slow,” you mewl. Staring at Curtis through your lashes.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not about us anymore, is it?” He groans again. Letting his head fall back on his shoulders as he looks at the stars. Staring at you was like staring at a dream that he can’t make a reality, “Was it ever about just us?”

“That night in the hotel I was not thinking about my daughter as I was fucking you, no.”

“You never thought you’d see me again?” It’s something you’ve pondered many times. Because you never thought you’d see him again. Even if he left his card. He was to be a cock for pleasure that night. And now you see a relationship.

He sits up, shaking his head no. His eyes move over your body as you work his aching cock. This clearly isn’t enough for him, and sex right now seems rushing. But you need something. You’re dying inside. You need him, but your relationship thus far has been built on forbidden romance and sex.

“And now I can’t imagine not seeing you again,” you move faster, undulating your hips with so much enthusiasm. Writhing over him, and he’s mesmerized. It’s like a beautiful little dance that you do just for him. A private performance only for his eyes. A girl he knows has this filthy streak, but you are the perfect balance of lady and freak.

You are his perfect match. A friend, a lover, a fucking porn star with the way you’re moaning, the possible mom to his daughter, his best friend, his everything. A mate for him in all walks of life. Getting off on dry humping him in the pool and it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Well…he has been inside you, but this sexiness is different.

You’re frustrated, so you use him. “The tension is clouding our judgment, we — we — we need this.”

“Aw, is my little saving Grace getting off on this?” You nod your head yes, moving fast. “There’s a good girl. Ride me like you own me,” you move hard and fast over him. Leaning forward to nip and kiss on his neck. Taking out your frustrations on his freckled sensitive skin. “Because you do.”

You bite on his neck delicately, and give him a hard suck, while he bucks up his hips, meeting you while he blows his load into the water. Your movements slow until you’re just panting on top of him. “You know you do. Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.”

“So now what?”

“You can take me on a date on your bike. You’re the father, so you’re going to have to figure out a babysitter,” you move away from his neck, and smile at him. His eyes freely roam over your heaving chest. With a smirk, you lean back. Practically laying back on his legs so you spread your own, “You can look, but you can’t touch just yet.”

“But she’s swollen,” he says looking into the water. “And she’s blurry,” he starts to lift up your bottom half, but you sit up straight, shaking a finger in his face. “That’s not fair!”

“Proper date. And then we’ll see how I feel about something more serious with you.”

“You want it,” he teases as you saunter towards the stairs of the pool. You bend over to pick your towel up, but don’t wrap it around you before walking towards the pool house. “Can you sleep in the bed with me?”

“Find us a sitter first!” You scream over your shoulder. It’s getting harder and harder to walk away from him. Almost impossible to tell him no, while you’re dying to let him take you where he wants to go. You want him. You want everything that comes with him, but this is moving too fast.

Right?

You pace back and forth in your pool house, wrapping the towel around your body because you seem so cold. Your house feels miles away from him now. Any distance between you and Curtis feels too far away. He’s leaving her. He’s leaving his wife. You have spent months avoiding the thing and person you want, and it’s him. It’s a life with him and his daughter. It’s crazy. Absurd, and still you’re walking towards the door. Holding your hand over the handle, and then freezing.

Is it worth the risk now? Have you tortured yourself and waited long enough?

You have. Jerking the door open, you stand transfixed in the doorway, staring up at the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He couldn’t wait either. Meeting you at your door because he was needy for more. His azure eyes look more soft than predatory, “I don’t want to be too forward, but I don’t want you in the pool house. You seem so…”

”Far away?” He nods, holding his hand up for you to take. Glancing down, you grab the appendage, and pull him close to your chest.

“But I’m not fucking you. Poet will probably wake up in about twenty minutes. And I think you’re right, date first. But until the date, can you just sleep in the bed with me?”

He’s walking backwards, pulling you towards his own bedroom. “Can we do no sex?”

“Sweetheart, my cock has been aching to get back inside of you for months, what’s one more night? Or a few days? It’ll be what it’ll have to be, but I can’t have you away from me anymore. And we could get in a quickie, but the next time I’m inside of you, I’m going to take such sweet precious time. Because I know what it’s like to have to live without that sweet cunt, and now, I know what the woman is like.”

It’d have to wait. You’d have to wait. You’ve made it this far. He was worth it. A crazy night of picking up a man on the side of the road has led you to this incredible man with the sweetest daughter, and the possibility of forever.

“I think we’ll manage until our date. Should I warn you I sleep naked?”

“No. Absolutely not. You’re keeping those tits, and that ass covered, or I’m sucking on something until Poet wakes up.”

“Wanna bet?” You squeal, dropping his hand before running towards his door. Curtis rolls his eyes before chasing you. A playfully little romp around the yard to get out any extra annoying butterflies.

“I’m sucking or eating something if you sleep naked, you make your choice.”

“We’re sleeping!”

“Then all of that,” his hands sway over your body, “Has got to be covered,” you were only teasing. But seeing him having fun about sex sends a divine feeling of comfort all over your body. Sex shouldn’t just sweep you off your feet, it should be fun, playful, and wet, and passionate, but still fun.

“Deal. After the first date, I’m sleeping naked.”

“And I’ll fuck you asleep, and fuck you in your sleep,” he winks, walking into the room before you, “Come on, my lady. Let’s cuddle until the baby awakes. No touching. Just cuddling,” you can do that. And you look forward to it. All night. Every night.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@slowdownbeforeyouregretit @rogersbarber @evelineangel66 @steviebbboi

#much too fast #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x fem!reader #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x y/n #curtis everett x you #curtis everett smut #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett fanfics #curtis everett fic #curtis everett fics #chris evans #chris evans character #snowpiercer

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eccentricallygothic · 1 year ago

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Summary: Your father had outdone his own selfishness when he had handed the train off to Curtis with no regard for you. But was it so bad, really?

Pairing: Dark!Curtis Everett | Cruel Brat!You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Curtis Everett. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Non-con/Dub-con, dark-ish spoilt Princess reader becomes Curtis' bitch, gun play, spanking (with a belt), humiliation, degradation, pet names, fear kink, finger sucking, age gap (reader is 20's, Curtis is 40's), leash, objectification, sloppy blowjob turns rough, untrimmed lumberjack Curtis, hair pulling, boob play, mentions of complete submission, questionable shit that I am unapologetic for.

Note: This scenario has been living rent free in my head ever since I watched the movie. Fair warning, it is pretty dark. But then again, so is Curtis. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

MASTERLIST

"I can smell you, dolly~" your heart hammered inside it's cage as you clasped your shaky lips to a halt, suppressing your laboured breathing as you peeked with one eye to see where the giant man was from your position behind one of the huge shelves in your father's cabin.

Curtis Everett took his sweet time investigating the space, searching for you calmly as he called out to you. His sweet coos caused the hair at the back of your nape to rise. He was covered in dust and blood, a gun carelessly hanging by his fingers. Your thighs quivered as you tried to breathe as quietly as you could, feeling a tinge between your legs.

The fear was messing with your body and the terror of what might happen to you once he did find you -which let's be honest, was inevitable since there was no where to run- caused all kinds of reactions within your body.

"Are you over… here?" A gasp threatened to slip past your trembling fingertips when he very effortlessly toppled over a chair dangerously close to you, chuckling to himself and tutting when your position continued to be a mystery. "You know I'll find you now or later, Princess…" Curtis was now passing right by you. "You're only making it worse for yourself by hiding, you know~" your shoulders relaxed a little when he lingered in front of you for a moment but when passed by. "If you come out now, I won't have to-" his terrifyingly convincing words had your body acting before it could stop itself.

The sound caused by you crawling out of your hiding space had the tall man spinning on his heels. A smile settled on his lips when he found you peeking up at him from your position on the ground.

"Already crawling for me?" His condescending words had you quickly scrambling to your feet as you whimpered in response to the proximity his quick walk towards you had caused between your bodies. "Aren't you just the most precious little doll?"

"Y- You said…" The desperation of your voice made you feel disgusted with yourself. You hated your father. A bile rose in your throat when you lowered your head in response to his sharp gaze fucking your body in the most humiliating way. He didn't even try to hide it. "You said you w- wouldn't hurt me if I didn't h- hide" these people were nothing. You had never cared what your father or the people of your section thought. To you, the lower sections were just filth to stomp on. They were nothing more than unfortunate degenerates that lived to serve you.

"I said I wouldn't have to do worse" the muscles in your thighs clenched when he caressed your cheek with the tip of the gun. And now because of your bastard father, you had no choice but to rely on the mercy of these lowlifes. "Hmm… so pampered and soft" Curtis sighed when he cupped your face with his other hand now, his coarse thumb tracing the shape of your lips before he pushed the digit inside.

You gagged in response to his dirty finger intruding you so intimately. He let out a heavy chuckle, taking it as an invitation to push it further in until he was knuckle deep, sighing to himself as he explored your warm and wet cavern. Your eyes filled with tears as the humiliation washed over you and overwhelmed your already overstimulated senses.

"Aw, you don't like this, Princess?" His taunt triggered a flashback where you had said the same exact thing while torturing someone from the tail section about a minor inconvenience while you made the others watch. "Too bad you don't have a choice, huh?" Your fists clenched as you suppressed the urge smack the smirk right off his disgusting face.

The thick hot tears finally trickled down your cheeks. His thumb made you gag again as it dipped down to your throat, the salty and metallic taste coating it making your mouth sting. Curtis refused to let you hide your face away so you could hide your tears and your arms were too lifeless for you to simply wipe them away.

"Hm, I wonder…" The gun now trailed down from your jaw to your neck, circling around the locket you always wore as your mother had left it to you before slowly trickling its way atop the valley of your breasts. "If Goddesses look the same as us lowlifes under their fancy little attires…" Your heart threatened to burst right out of your chest. More flashbacks followed as you winced now, having no choice but to unintentionally suck his thumb when you tried to breath. Your eyes shut themselves in embarrassment after a few more tears spilled.

You forced the tail section to hail and bow down to you every now and then merely for entertainment. You made them tell you you were their Goddess and the only one that should be worshipped. Those who tried to resist faced horrible consequences at the hands of your personal guards and servants. Your 'royalty' was the only thing your otherwise unavailable father had been good for. It was the only thing he had given you in your whole life. So you took to both using and misusing it in every way you could.

"Or are they really are different from the rest of us degenerates- tsk" he clicked his tongue before patting your cheek. "Come now, doll. Let me see those Godly eyes" a shiver trembled itself out of your body.

You had no choice.

Just how they hadn't.

Curtis felt a pang of excitement trickle down his spine when your now reddening eyes opened back up and you tried to look anywhere but at him.

"Hm… they seem pretty ordinary to me…" The comment was for your eyes as the gun intruded your neckline more and more with the passing second. "What about…" The man hooked the weapon under one of your breasts and pushed it up and out of the fabric covering them as he tilted his head, the humiliating concentration on his face making your cheeks burn as you whimpered against his thumb again, gagging when it started to massage your tongue.

The tingles in the spot between your legs in response to the whole experience increased all the while.

You dared not ponder over it, afraid of what horror laid in the reason behind it.

"Hm, you know what?" Curtis suddenly deprived you of all touch. Wait, are you wondering why you know his name? Have you forgotten already? You had asked him what it was before you made him kneel on all fours on the ground before using his back as a chair while you had the workers take the newborns under your father's orders. Why? You simply didn't care why. "I want it all off." He used the gun to gesture towards your clothes. "Because so far I haven't seen anything that makes you any more special than the people you loved to shit on" more tears spilled from your eyes.

Your usually loud mouth seemed to have forgotten all words today.

"Come on, Princess. I don't have all day…" His words were followed by his fingers undoing and freeing his belt before he held in a manner that looked threatening enough for you to let out a sob as you slowly shook your head before muttering out a plea. Curtis coldly chuckled. "Hm, adorable. Now, come on." You flinched when he tapped the side of your thigh with the belt he had doubled over in his hand.

"P- Please…"

"You wanna please me?" The only things he could remember was the hopelessness and humiliation she has wreaked upon the tail section all those years ever since she was a child. "Aw, doll. That is sweet of you." Another sob left her. The man was unfazed as he continued to caress the side of her leg with the belt, dark eyes running up and down her body.

"N- No, like… please… please…" He sighed as his eyes hardened.

"You really want to make this worse than it already is, huh?" The seriousness of his tone caused a tight little hot ball to form between her hips. "Little brats like you just can't help themselves, can they? No, they love to get in trouble. That's why they go out of their way to create it. So someone can come along and show them their real place, huh?" The knot of heat rolled further down your abdomen.

What was happening to you?

You went to speak but were cut off. "If these pretty little clothes don't come off by the count of three, I will take them off but in front of the entire tail section waiting to claw you to pretty little bits and pieces right outside this room…" Your breath hitched in your throat when the tip of the gun collected the sweat beads formed on one of your temples. "Would you like that, huh, doll?" Before he could even start the countdown, you hiccuped before a few sobs followed the quivering breaths and your numbing fingers reached for the zip and harnesses of your dress.

Without allowing yourself to ponder over it, you quickly rid yourself of the fancy fabrics, knowing that it was inevitable and the other way would be much more unpleasant than this. You had degraded these people in the worst ways possible for many years, if you still got to have some form of mercy, you were going to take it.

"The rest too, giddy up~" your wet cheeks burnt hotter as you averted your eyes to the floor, keeping them trained on the spot between his feet as you blinked the tears away and complied to his orders, depriving yourself of all dignity with your own hands. "Hmm…" Curtis seemed unbothered by your nudity. Like nothing was out of the ordinary and it was just a normal day.

As if this was the natural way of things.

"I don't anything special here" the pressure between your hips increased when he started to poke and prod at your hardened nipples with the tip of the gun before he circled you like a hungered animal does a piece of meat, continuing to press and caress random parts of your body. "Let's see…" Curtis sighed now. "Spread these pretty Princess legs, now. Maybe there's something special there that makes you feel obligated to act that high and mighty" you felt the belt penetrate the space between your legs.

You bit your lip as more and more flashbacks resurfaced, haunting and mocking. Your chest heaved for air the more you sobbed, bending forwards as your hands reached for your ass cheeks and you spread your legs before parting them for him to look at.

You were well familiar with the desperation in the eyes of the tail section lowlifes to know that if you didn't obey and maybe pleased him however he wanted, you would suffer the same fate as everyone from your side of the train.

And nothing was worse than dying.

… Right?

"Hmmm, nothing special here either" the male's tone was scalding as he spread your nether petals with the tip of the gun -that caused a new kind of rush and panic within your body every time it made contact with it- before he pulled the metal weapon away. "So you really are nothing special, after all…" Your eyes continued to watch his feet and how they appeared before disappearing for a few moments each time he completed a round around your naked and shaking body.

"If anything," a loud shriek ripped itself out of your throat when he suddenly landed the belt on your ass, the swat catching your hands holding them apart in the process. You quickly retreated them, causing him to scoff at your reaction as you held them to your chest, sobbing and blowing on them as you rubbed them to try and soothe the burn. Another lash was given to your sensitive and fragile skin that wasn't used to being handled roughly. But now a thick angry red line appeared across your lap. "You're worse." The next blow landed on your ass again, but this time your knees buckled up and you fell on your hands and knees.

"Because even though you could be ripped to shreds at any given moment upon my command, you're leaking like a desperate little breeding bitch all because I forced you to strip for me" you felt him place his dusty boot on your back before he pressed it down against you.

Fuck.

That was going to leave an imprint.

Your whipped thighs trembled and body jerked forwards when he landed his belt against your ass again. The only things you could register and process was your own crying, the humiliation his words were causing and the hot pain his merciless belt was inflicting upon your ass cheeks.

He just kept going, loving the welts and bruises that were forming on your formerly spotless skin.

"P- Please!" You forced yourself to plea out loud when he just wouldn't stop. "Please! I- It hurts! I am s- sorry! Please!" He just chuckled in response, pushing you against the ground harder and harder with each hit.

"Maybe your father knew this is exactly what you needed, huh? Someone to come along and beat some sense into that smooth brain of yours." Out of all the things he had said to you, this one stung the most. Perhaps more than the physical pain he was inflicting upon your ass. "He knew that you couldn't carry his legacy. Your little brain is too small for tasks like that, isn't it? Brats like you are only meant to be broken into submission and then made to serve" the hits finally halted. He removed his foot. Your seething ass cheeks were parted again but with his fingers this time.

Your body shook from how violent and loud your sobs had gotten. Curtis chuckled at something before you felt him get closer to your head. A thick and rough band snaked around your neck before you felt it getting tighter until it was wrapped and locked around your throat. You winced when you felt a tug at it. His belt.

"Look, doll." His thick beard scratched against your ear as he whispered right into it. "Your mess on the floor is confirmation" the bile in your throat felt tighter against the makeshift… leash. "Whether you want to admit it or not… you are loving this" you wanted to vomit. The taste of his thumb was still very strong on your tongue, the pungent scent of his body further aggravating your already distressed senses. "I knew it."

Curtis stood up to his full height and tugged at the belt, causing your neck to humiliatingly jerk in the direction of his pull. "Come on." He started to march you towards the chair your father always sat on. Your weak and sensitive knees burnt and screamed at you to stop. But the moment you'd falter, the leather wrapped around your throat would forcefully pull you forward, making you almost slide behind him.

"There we go~" the man took a seat on his throne -your father had treated the chair as no less- before he started to wrap the belt-leash around his big and rough hand until his blistered knuckles were touching the sweaty and cold skin of your neck. You almost retched when the tip of your nose grazed against his crotch since he had forced you right between his giant legs that he had spread open.

You tried to back up; break free. But there was no way to turn or move with how tightly he held the belt. You did your best to control your breathing and not lash at his face with your claws. He had a gun and an entire army of savages waiting outside.

For better or worse, he may be your only chance at surviving this in one piece.

"You look prettier than what I would imagine every night after the day you would visit the tail section" a shard of icy fear tore down the ligaments of your spine before spreading in all directions at the base. "Submission looks so good on you, doll." He leaned forward and you shuddered at the sensation of his breath hitting your mouth. So close. Your feet tickled. "You wanna be good for me, right?" The tears in your eyes refused to stop flowing. You hated them and yourself for being so weak. It was shameful to let others see you cry. But you were so helpless without your guards and servants.

Weak.

You had no choice but to take whatever he decided to give you.

The pressure between your hips worsened.

Whore.

"Nod and tell me yes" the heavy thumping of his fingers against your cheek brought you out of your head. A wince shook its way past your lips when your spanked ass touched the heels of your feet. The overwhelming pain caused you to jolt forwards, going nose first into Curtis' face and making him chuckle. "Aren't you the most eager and adorable little doll?" Your face burnt in humiliation as you tried to pull away again but in vain, he only further tightened his grip around your windpipe. You choked, his face hardened. "I told you to nod and tell me yes."

The realization of the power imbalance between you two drove shards of shame down your limbs as you lowered your head and whimpered. "Y- Yes…" Your words followed a humiliating nod.

"Yes what?"

"Uhmm… C- Curt-" a loud gasp elicited out of you when you felt a punishing smack deliver to the side of your head which lolled due to the impact. Your bottom lip trembled as you blinked the stars away before peeking up at him through your lashes.

"Sir. It's sir to you, dimwit" he smacked the back of your head again, but this time the pain was felt in the base of your stomach which soon morphed into a hot ball that flooded down your holes.

Curtis moved back and leaned his back against the chair lazily, lacing the fingers of his free hand through your hair before he trained his eyes on you from scanning the rest of your body before pulling at the strands roughly. You cried out and pouted, he silently cursed and pressed his legs against your arms.

"Come here and undo my pants" your eyes widened but the second tug at your scalp had you complying before you could think twice. "Hmmm…" As your shaky fingers fiddled with the fly, he continued to play with your hair. "Maybe I should cut all this pretty hair off. Mayhaps make you a cute little slutty cue ball…" Your heart leaped at his words. Oh God no. "Turn you into a clean little slate to paint and mould however I please… This is a fresh start, after all" his nails scratched against your scalp and you sobbed in the musky scent that wafted out from inside his pants. "Hmm… Now pull my cock out" you sighed in relief despite how horrifying his words were.

At least his attention wasn't on your poor hair anymore.

What kind of a twisted person can say something like that?

Sure, you playfully suggested for the tail section ladies to cut or buzz their hair sometimes but it was only because they didn't have the proper facilities to take care of it.

You gulped to yourself and felt your core throb when you went to pull his cock out and it just seemed to never end. Four pulls later, Curtis' brutally thick and monstrously large cock was standing angrily in front of your face, his pubic hair decorating the organ and his matching ballsack.

Fuck.

It was almost beautiful.

"Put those slut doll boobs around it" your breath hitched at his words but a firm tug at the hair on the top of your head had you obeying his order. Anything but your hair. Biting your lip, you lowered your eyes before gathering your breasts in your sweaty hands. But you stopped when he clicked his tongue and tutted. "Now, now. Why are you shying away, Princess? I thought you liked to look into people's eyes, hm?" You felt like kicking yourself.

He was tormenting you for the torture you had inflicted on him and his people for so many years.

"Look me in the eyes while you do it" this time the pull was at the leash. You gulped again before you slowly looked up at him, a whole new sense of shame wrapping itself around your body when you saw the smug expression on his face. "And tell me yes sir."

Your palms met with the base of your breasts again. "Y- Yes, sir." Before you slowly moved forward and tried to ignore the fear and disgust boiling in your loins.

"Smile and thank me for being so generous and merciful" your knees almost buckled up when he scratched right behind your ear with the hand that was laced through your hair.

Your body was just confused… right?

It was just scared and excited– panicked because of this sudden burst of stressful emotions.

Since you had never experienced any of this before and now were suddenly being subjected to so much all at the same time, it didn't know how to act.

Yes, that had to be it.

You slowly smiled, feeling his nether hairs tickle the skin of your breasts as you clamped them around his cock, shivering at the contact. His veins were so thick and hot against your skin. "T- Thank you so much for being so generous and merciful, s- sir." Curtis bit his lip.

"Fuck, doll. You're just a natural, aren't you?" His musky scent filled up your senses as you continued to smile, not knowing what else to do. The man suddenly spat on his cock, some of the splatter also falling on your breasts. You flinched and nearly broke away with a gasp but his grip on your throat and head both warned and restricted you against it. "Move. Up and down, come on. Move and take the tip in your mouth, like the little slutty Princess that you are."

You almost faltered. But the darkness in his eyes quickly reminded you of the situation and so you started to move, your bottom lip wobbling once more. Your belted thighs burnt from the movement and knees ached. But you knew better than to stop.

Your breathing became laboured the more you moved, the thick red tip of his cock brushing against your lips each time you went down. Curtis hissed and grunted, snarling out condescending praises while his hips rocked against your boobs. He demanded you to take him inside his mouth again. You complied, gagging at the strong salty taste of his warm cock once he was finally inside. Your jaw ached. Fuck, he was big.

"Such a perfect cum dumpster" his voice was turning hoarse and animalistic, fingers tightening around your hair and causing a dull ache in your scalp. The belt would restrict you of oxygen every now and then, his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag to probably reach the desired effect. Stars littered your vision each time the male decided to restrict you of air.

Some things ached, others burnt. But nothing hurt harder than your pussy. Your abdomen was in actual pain at this point, thighs clammy and bruising cheeks squelching due to the amount of the white matter seeping out of your hole.

"That's it… such a perfect cum rag. Made to serve her Master… right?" You nodded, trying to peek up at him as your hollowed cheeks made humiliating sounds. "Good fucking cum dumpster Princess" you had told them that the lower classes lived to serve their Masters. He was only throwing them back in your face.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

Eventually, the slow and sloppy blowjob turned into fast and rough face fucking. Curtis slapped your hands away before he parted your hair into two pigtails and wrapped them around both his hands at either side of your head for a firm grip. From that point on, your slowed brain could barely register anything. The only thing you could hear was your own moans and retching as your tits flew left and right, ass burning each time it would come in contact with your heels due to how violently he was bouncing your body up and down like a yoyo.

Your head bobbed up and down his fat cock, pre-cum and spit oozing out of your nose as you choked each time he would penetrate your throat a centimeter more. Your red face was coated in sweat and tears, fingers curled around his calves for support.

Curtis grunted as he thrusted in and out of your mouth, tipping his head back and nearly growling when he finally orgasmed, tightening his grip on your hair as he jerked his cock inside your throat fully and finally. While his length violated your hot cavern in the form of quick jabs, your throat stretched and jaw nearly dislocated from the girth of his ballsack penetrating -or trying to- your mouth.

The taste of his salty cum took over your sensory buds. Your eyelids became droopy and chest heaved due to the lack of oxygen, brain making you nearly pass out when Curtis finally released your hair and pulled out, cursing as he jacked the rest of his orgasm out and all over your face.

Your whole body shook as you collapsed against one of his thick thighs, landing on your cheek and letting your eyes flutter close against the bursts of his cum.

Ever since you could remember, you had been given all the power possible in the world you had opened your eyes in as compensation for an unavailable father and no mother. An only child with everyone bowing down to her with an authority she didn't understand, you had used it for everything you could. Necessities, entertainment, emotional needs and voids, it was all you had; all you knew.

You had never known balance nor restraint.

The concept has ironically existed all around you but never made itself acquainted with you.

So you rebelled. Assaulted. Violated. Misused. In the hopes that someone would step up. Teach you. Take the overwhelming amount of power away from you. Of course it wouldn't be easy. But it would put an end to this frustration, this loss of direction, nonexistence of purpose you had suffered your whole life.

As you slowly opened your eyes and peeked up at the man softly panting while watching you, softly scratching your aching scalp with his nails. You felt a strange kind of light dawn upon you. A new kind of hope and warmth washed over you. Your body curled against his.

Savior.

"... G- God…?" Curtis blinked before he registered what you had just said. A smile slowly pulled itself on his face.

A God is a savior, right? Someone who provides a direction and protects from follies like excessiveness and uselessness. A being who provides a sense of purpose. Helps exercise balance. Protects yet destroys. Batters but builds. Shatters and then mends. The mighty and all powerful; one who controls and regulates.

"Definitely yours." You softly sobbed and smiled, whispering out praises and thanks as you kissed everywhere you could reach him. Curtis slowly shook his head as he caressed your head, silently commending himself on how accurately he had read you.

You were exactly what he had thought.

Just a pathetic little brat with unbalanced power she didn't understand nor deserve.

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buckymorelikefuckme · 2 months ago

Text

just a Thot idk but…

Curtis is still very unsure why you came over to talk to him, of all people in this crowded bar. He knows he gives off slightly less than welcoming vibes on the best of days. It used to bother him and made him overly aware of what his face was doing on a regular basis, until he decided it shouldn’t bother him, so he stopped letting it.

Anyway, that isn’t to say he’s not internally thrilled by your presence. The confident way you slid into the tiny space between him and the moody, shadowed corner he’d placed himself into had him intrigued right away.

Conversation has been flowing so well that he can’t deny the tug in his gut telling him he’s got to ask for your number before the night is over with. You’ve managed to make him crack several smiles and even a couple huffs of laughter. A lot of people who’ve met Curtis would call it a miracle.

You’re teasing him now, about the slight pink flush to his cheeks from the beers he’s had and the dirty joke you just made. He looks away to roll his eyes in exasperation, getting ready to make a retort when you suddenly grip his chin and force him to meet your gaze once again, cooing at him and teasing him some more when the flush deepens and spreads to the tips of his ears.

Curtis feels his stomach swoop and the skin where you’re touching him tingles warmly and fuck, he’s getting hard too. Your smile is sly and curious in equal measure as he swallows thickly.

He can ask for your number in the morning, he decides, after he’s taken you home to let you have your filthy way with him.

#ok bye #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett fic #curtis everett fanfiction

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bigtreefest · 15 days ago

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Happy Hoelloween! 🎃❤️ Please accept this lil hoe treat just for you:

It looks like he’s had a hard day and needs one of your sweet treats to turn his frown upside down. Hope you’re up for it, because he sure is 🍆😘

A Well-deserved Treat

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (modern AU)

Summary: After a long day, you know exactly what Curtis needs

Word count: 729

Content/warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, grunty Curtis, grumpy Curtis, nonverbal Curtis, soapy handjob, shower, Curtis’s beautiful naked body

A/N: Hehehe, happy Hoelloween, Siri!! A sweet treat, indeed!! Thank you so much for sending this in. Sorry it’s a little bit after Halloween, but I think this kind of slowed-down comfort is what we need right now. My poor Curty having a hard day? The least I can do is take care of him when he always does the same for me!!!

Thank you all for reading! Comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated.

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Main Masterlist

Curled up on the couch queueing up all the scary movies you had planned to watch for the night, you heard his truck pull into the driveway. Curtis was finally home, and it was much later than you both had anticipated.

On most days, he was gone before the sunrise, that part wasn’t new. But early hours usually meant an early return unless something went wrong at the shop. And judging by the way the sun was well below set in the sky and you were already on your second bowl of candy for the trick-or-treaters, something went really wrong.

The door closed a little harder than usual, although Curtis was careful not to slam it. Based off of that, he didn’t seem angry about the day, but most definitely annoyed at the very least.

You turned to greet him, but he was already gone, the faint sound of him toeing off his boots filling the hallway along with his jingling belt buckle. He was probably going to take a shower to wash the day away, which was a good idea. That always calmed him a little, but he probably needed even more than that.

Curtis was probably going to take a bit of a longer shower, too, but you didn’t want to waste time. You moved quickly to throw the blanket off of you, grabbing the bowl of candy and setting it on the doormat for kids to help themselves. Your man needed you.

You ran quickly with your socked feet faintly sliding on the wooden floors, grateful you had already closed the windows earlier as you shucked off pieces of clothing one by one, leaving a trail.

Once you got to the bathroom door, Curtis was already under the water, simply standing there and letting it rush over him, a faint frown on his face. His hulking shoulders rose and fell steadily with his even breathing which was interrupted as you stepped into his space.

Curtis’s eyes blinked open, his long eyelashes catching droplets of water. Your heart sunk a little, seeing the clear exhaustion in his features as you reached up, your hands gently cupping his jaw, beard lightly scratching your palms.

“Hi, honey,” you whispered just above the sound of rushing water. He simply sighed and gave a grunt in response. Curtis had used his voice too much today, barking orders and corrections around the shop, dealing with more than his fair share of customers. Words were not something he wanted to produce right now, and he was so happy you could see that with the sympathetic smile that you flashed him.

Without a second thought, you knew exactly what you needed to do, reaching to the side and grabbing a dollop of body wash. You lathered it between your hands before pressing them against his firm pecs, rubbing in small circles. You moved outward across the broad expanse of his chest, watching his eyes flutter shut and his head tilt backwards in ecstasy.

You worked your way downward, over the hair of his chest and the ridges of his abs until you came upon the thatch of hair just above where he was starting to grow hard. The relaxation and care you were showing him was enough to do that, and after the kind of day he had, be needed a release.

You reached your soapy hand for his shaft, slowly pumping his length. You were startled as Curtis’s hand shot out and slapped the shower wall, his chin falling to his sternum as his breaths began to pick up. You could hear them huffing out of his nose. He watched the way you expertly twisted your wrist, slightly tentative since he still hadn’t spoken yet.

Curtis’s head slowly rose, his pupils blown with pleasure looking at you through his eyelashes. From the sight of his lust and need to feel good taking over, you got distracted, lost in his gaze. You didn’t even realize your hold weakening, your rhythm faltering until his large hand clasped over yours, helping you squeeze him and move faster.

Finally, Curtis’s lips broke their seal with a small gasp. His chest rumbled in a way that sent a shiver through you despite the warm water. His voice came out in a low growl, one you couldn’t ever bring yourself to deny.

“That’s it. Give me what I need.”

Bonus A/N: Gimme that beast of a man. Lemme shower him in affection and wash off that grime in an actual shower🫣

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi

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ronearoundblindly · 2 years ago

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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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onsunnyside · 2 years ago

Note

aaaaa when mma!curtis gets hurt though!! or if he loses a match :(( extra feral and rough and nasty 🤧 reader is so concerned for him and tries to make to make him feel better, but baby, all u gotta lay there and let him tear u apart

oh he'll absolutely lose it 🫡 although he's pissed off, he's still a daddy who loves to tease:

"—fuckin' stupid ref, he didn't call any of that shit just to screw me over." His rant breaks off into curses as he struggles with his heavily bandaged fingers. Honestly, it was his fault. He couldn't sit still as you tended to his bruised and battered knuckles, now it was all sloppy and unravelling by the moment.

"Don't take it off!"

His heated eyes meet yours in the reflection, water dripping from his buzzed hair to his bearded cheeks. "What was that?"

"D-Don't take 'em off... or it'll hurt." You stutter and roll on the heels of your feet. "I don't want you to ever hurt, especially after those mean guys..." (aka his opponent who broke the rules one too many times and the ref who didn't call any of it, which led to Curtis' loss). You tug on the hem of his sweater, feeling awfully exposed because he didn't let you put on panties after your shared shower ("why would you need them?")

He breaks the tension with a grunt, gesturing you over with a nod, "c'mere, cupcake. Daddy wants to show you something."

You hesitantly obey and squeak as he tugs you closer, propping you on the counter with ease, his arms flexing deliciously. He brings your hand to his tattooed chest, right below his collarbone.

"You know what this is?"

You nod, "Your grandparent's birth year."

"Mhm, and what about this?" He trails down, dragging your fingers to his abs, inches away from his bushy pubic hair.

"Uhm, a d-dagger."

You remember when you saw it for the first time. He was in the middle of training and you walked in, nearly dropping the freshly baked cookies at the sight of him all beefy, sweaty and flushed. Curtis, being ever the observant fella, took you into the locker room and ate you out over your underwear ("Can't have my sweet girl all needy, hm? Gotta give her what she deserves." and he did, making you cream your panties so he could hide them in his bag for later).

He moves your hand to the loose towel around his waist, right over the growing bulge. "And this, sweet baby?"

You gulp, squirming as he makes you rub over his clothed cock. You can feel him growing harder, throbbing hotly under your palm.

"...it's your thing, daddy."

He tsks, shaking his head, "that's not what it's called."

You were a virgin when you met Curtis. But he didn't mind that you were inexperienced in relationships and sex, he was sweet and slow with you, allowing you to explore his body first to get you comfortable with intimacy. As much as you loved hearing him say filthy things, you were still so shy saying it yourself.

"Do I have to say it?"

"If you wanna taste it." He leans forward, softly kissing your cheek, then the other, and then your nose, dutifully ignoring your pouting lips. "C'mon, cupcake. Say it, and I'll let you keep me warm."

He knows you love that, feeling close and safe. You love holding him in your hand, or in your mouth, or one of your other holes. If you could, you'd keep him all snug every damn day.

"Then, I'll fuck your pretty face. Make you gag on my cock and try to fit my balls in your mouth—you wanna help me feel better after that shitty match, right, baby?"

#mma fighter curtis #brandycranby<3 #wips ask #sonny drabbles #curtis everett #curtis everett smut #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett au #curtis everett drabble #curtis everett x innocent!reader #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett fic #mma fighter!curtis everett #ufc fighter!curtis everett

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geminixevans-stan · 1 year ago

Text

Sweetest Thing - 1

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female!Reader

Words: 4.5+k

Summary: When reader decides to start over, she moves to a new town hoping that she can make in the world on her own.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, explicit language, nothing too bad, more world building than anything

I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P

Just the thought of starting your new life was all the reason you needed to finally open your eyes. The sight of your room fills you with joy—you’d decorated it yourself, and spared no expense. The walls are painted a baby-soft pink, offset by the butter-soft white sheets that adorn your bed. Soft, sheer curtains blocked the rising sun on the other side of the wide window, beneath which was a plush window seat. You already made up your mind that this area would be for when you wanted to look out and take in the world without having to leave your home. Two small side tables accompanied each side of the bed, holding a small vase housing a plant that you are currently trying your very best not to kill.

When buying that particular plant, you knew that it would probably not last long. But you were determined to live on your own and take on the responsibilities of a proper homeowner. The warmth of your bed enveloped you like the bear hugs that your daddy used to give you. The feeling was so good that you decided that maybe thirty more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt.

… Or that was the intention.

The next time that you blinked your eyes open, the sun had finally shown its beautiful face through your curtains, and the faint noises of cars passing by indicated that everyone on your street was up. You sit up, rubbing the remnants of your satisfying sleep from your eyes, and raising your arms to stretch. The comfortable silence that you were striving for was here and you smiled at the realization.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed to slip your feet into the softness of your bedroom slippers, an item that you couldn’t leave without. Everything from your old life was dead and gone… except for those slippers. They were the last things that you received from your grandmother before her untimely passing. She was the only person, besides your dad, who really and truly wanted the best for you.

Victoria de Montfort was a name to be reckoned with in the world of fashion. She made such a name for herself that you suspect the generations following you will still be called fashion royalty. She was a powerhouse, her attention to detail in every stitch. She poured herself into each piece—that was something she’d taught you, too.

“Nothing means anything without love.”

After doing your morning hygiene routine of brushing your teeth, skincare, and a shower, you go downstairs and head straight for the kitchen. With you waking up so late, your stomach was saying some not-so-nice things to you and you needed food immediately. Another lesson that your grandmother taught you was to always keep a clean kitchen. No matter if you didn’t need to clean while you were still under your parents’ roof.

You lived a very wealthy life before this, and you know that naturally, anyone would wonder why you gave it all up. If anyone would outright ask you, they would think that they were part of a soap opera with all the drama that you had to endure. It took all the strength that you could muster to leave the comfortable life you’d known. But you weren’t happy—your mother, Nora, made sure of it. To her, you were just another link in the chain of the De Monfort family, and she’d groomed you to be the perfect heiress.

In a sick way, you had to thank her for being the evil woman that she was. If she hadn’t pushed so hard, you never would have decided to start your new life. With the constant bullying you’d endured from both your mother and brother, Caden, you had enough stories for your future therapist to write volumes. If they hadn’t pushed you away, you'd never have found yourself here— in Camden, Maine, living the life you’d thought you’d never have.

You step onto the tiled floor of your kitchen, standing there for a moment to take in the area as a whole. A wide kitchen island sits in the center of the room, and the counters are littered with your growing collection of silver appliances. The surfaces on the stove and counters gleamed beautifully in the sun, innocent of the future stains of your failed attempts to learn to cook and bake. Something that you couldn’t do because the De Montfort’s never lifted a finger.

Luckily for you, Grandma Victoria showed you a few recipes that stuck with you, ones that she would make for you when no one was looking. On mornings when it was just you and her, she would make the most sinful thing — a heaping stack of chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and a hot side of bacon. That was one secret that you were more than happy to keep from your own family.

The kitchen smelled just as it did when you were a little girl. The sweetness of the chocolate chips mixed with the syrupy sweet concoction of the maple bacon had your mouth salivating the entire time that they sizzled in the pan. You sit down at the table, setting it beforehand with your utensils and orange juice. You happily sit down with your plate in both hands, setting it on the table and saying a quick thanks before digging in.

Cutting into the pancakes is like a breath of fresh air, and you groaned with satisfaction when the familiar sweet taste touched your tongue. The mixture of flavors sent you back to your grandmother’s quaint kitchen table.

Whenever she had some time to herself, she would take impromptu “vacations” and would go off the grid, no one hearing a word from her.

But not you…

One vacation in particular was a week-long trip to Aspen. It called for heavy clothes at all times. The snow sparkled in your innocent eyes, nose moist as you tried to withstand the cold. You marveled at the pillows of soft ice on the ground, wanting to be one with it.

And so you were…

Without hesitation, you pulled off your bubble coat, tossing it on the ground as you fell back, feeling the instant coldness on your skin. You sigh in contentment, letting your joy fill you with warmth against the coolness. Bursts of laughter erupt from your lips, not paying attention to someone else watching you.

Victoria watched on, startled at first to see you doing something so ridiculous. But she warmed at the pure joy radiating from you and she could swear she saw her younger self lying in the same spot as you.

Her soft chuckle rouses you from your world, snapping up to see your grandmother with the most loving smile on her face. You tilt your head a bit, sure that you were in trouble but her face said something different, “You okay, Grammie?” You say in a confused tone.

She chuckles again, shaking her head, “More than, sweet bee, it’s like I’m looking at my younger self….”

As you enjoyed the most perfect breakfast, you couldn’t help but think of your grandmother and how proud she would be of you. To know that you got out and dared to start your path was something that you always wanted to do. Sure being wealthy had it’s perks but was that living?

One thing is for sure, you were going to find out and seek out a life that you could be proud of. As you begin to get lost in your thoughts, you hear a familiar sound coming from the kitchen island that held your phone. The ringtone only belonged to your one and only best friend, Thea. Your body moved before your feet could, rushing over to snatch your phone off the counter and answering quickly.

“Hello?” You answered, almost out of breath.

“It hasn’t been two days and you’re already whoring,” she says amused. You roll your eyes at her, eliciting that laugh that you missed so much.

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up. I haven’t even been out of this house yet to touch anything or anyone,” snickering as you looked at your friend who had a gleam in her eye, “What is it?” You ask, pulling a stool from the island and taking a seat.

A tremble formed on Thea’s lips and she continued to keep her eyes on you. You knew that she was getting emotional and before you could even say another word, she burst into tears. It didn’t take much for those salty drops of fluid to form in her eyes, Thea was just like that.

She was the most normal person in your life besides your grandmother. You two grew up together in the same circles. Although, her family were less… vapid than yours. Thea had been a breath of fresh air to your high-strung situation. You two were each other’s safe space and she was the only person that knew exactly where you were.

Everyone else knew that you were gone for some “you” time. That’s the story that your mother was pushing around since your untimely departure. You stare at the screen watching Thea’s eyes well with tears as she begins to talk super fast.

“It’sjusthtatyoudiditandi’msohappyforyou,” she says quickly, unable to form her words correctly as she bawled in front of you.

You were so used to her antics that you knew that you just had to let her go on with her spiel before you could get a word in.

“You’re doing it again! Slow down weirdo,” you chuckle as she lets out a watery laugh.

A smile forms on Thea’s lips as she grabs a nearby tissue to fix her face, “You know how I get. I’m proud of my friend! She finally got out of that castle with that evil dragon of a mother,” disgust on her tongue as she made a fake retching sound.

If anyone was a hater of Nora De Monfort, Thea would put them to shame. To say she loathed your mother was an understatement. If she met her untimely demise, Thea would plan an entire parade around your mother’s death.

And you can’t say that you wouldn’t be in attendance…

You and Thea talked on the phone for almost an hour. Catching up on the move, what you needed to do, and how her life was going. It was nice to know that she was slowly making a name for herself and getting comfortable with becoming a well-known socialite. The lights and fame were where Thea shined the most and she knew how to balance that life and still be her true self.

After you two caught up, you let her know that you had some errands to run and the first place on your list was to find a hardware store to add some more embellishments to your room. You were thinking of adding a small shelf above your bed to put some added Knick knacks, plants, or even pictures. It was whatever your heart desired and this was going to be your little project.

Pushing open the door of Everett Hardware Store, the ringing of the bell startled you a bit making you jump in alertness. A man with a weathered face, placed his eyes on you, freezing you in place. But it didn’t last for long as you were put at ease by the wide smile he gave you.

“Welcome to Everett Hardware! You don’t seem like you’re from around here and I should know,” he chuckles, never taking his eyes off you, “The name’s Jerry, little missy, what can I do for ya?”

“I’m looking for wood? I guess? I’m not sure…”

“Well, what do you need the wood for?”

“I’m trying to build a mantel to go over my bed. Something big enough that I can put some plants or little decor pieces,” you say with certainty. You were determined to do this for yourself.

Jerry furrows his brow in thought, a low sound coming from his throat, “Seems like a good maple wood would be good for that. You’ll go down to aisle 4 and if you want I can help pick out a nice maple for you.”

“That’d be great and can I ask another question, Jerry?”

“Shoot.”

“What would I need to do the mantel?”

Jerry’s eyebrows rose at that question, “A pretty lady like you? Doing her dirty work. Now I don’t think I can let that happen,” he says, folding his arms.

You stare at Jerry in confusion, “Hey! I can do it!”

“And I don’t doubt you can but, what you’re trying to do ain’t a one-person job. I tell you what, I know a guy that will have that mantel up in an hour… two if you’re trying to get fancy.”

“Well, I do have a little fancy about me,” you say, doing a slight curtsy that made Jerry erupt with laughter.

“Funny gal, We’ll get along just fine. Just as a new member in the community, we want to make sure our own is taken care of. You pay for the wood and I’ll have my guy come and get that fancy mantel of yours done in no time.”

“Oh no that wou-“ your words cut off before you could even finish them as you see Jerry put his hand up.

“Now I won’t hear another thing, little lady. Let’s get you something nice,” determination in his voice and he leads you to the aisle holding all sorts of wood.

He was just like your grandmother, stubborn and wouldn’t hear a thing from anyone who lent a helping hand too. That made you feel a little more at ease as you followed Jerry down the aisle, amazed at all the different types of wood and the sweet smell coming from the maple solidified the suggestion that Jerry made.

Your eyes landed on a thick piece, sturdy and looking heavy enough to hold just the right amount of things that you wanted to put on it. Taking a look at Jerry, you point up to the piece of wood high on the shelf, “I like that one. It speaks to me and that’s the only one I want,” you take a subtle gulp, not used to getting your way where it counted, you were ready for a rebuttal and you didn’t get one.

A gleam came into Jerry’s eyes as he did a deep chuckle, “You got a good eye, I’ll tell ya that! Would have been my pick too.”

The time at the hardware store was your first time paying for anything in your life. Usually, others did the shopping for you and it was refreshing to be able to pay for something that was all yours. You and Jerry found the right size of maple wood for the mantel and even bought some tools — just in case you were in the mood to fix other things in your house.

He helped you load everything in the car before mentioning someone by the name of Curtis would be stopping by to help with the mantel. You let out a sigh, shaking your head at him, “I swear I have it, Jerry. That’s too much.”

Jerry folds his arms, dead set on what he promised, “This ain’t up for discussion, little lady. Think of it as a welcome present from the town,” a small smile appearing on his lips, “It’s okay to get some help sometime. If you want, maybe Curtis will let ya help. Show you a few tips or two,” you could no longer decline the gesture.

“Okay… okay. I’ll let him come over. Under one condition…”

“I’m sure he can meet yer’ demands. What’s the condition?”

“He can’t say no.”

Jerry furrows his brow, unable to grasp what you just said, “He can’t say no… to what?”

“To anything. Not that I will ask him to do anything crazy. But that’s the rule,” you wanted to hide or disappear for making a rule. You didn’t know how this would play out but you were proud of yourself.

Jerry shrugged his shoulders, “Alright. I’ll let him know. Now if he’ll listen is the real challenge,” he chuckles, walking back to the store, pushing the door open, “Go easy on him will ya?”

“I’ll try my best,” your words caught in laughter as you waved goodbye and got back in your car. You take the scenic route back home, looking at all the places that Camden has to offer. Down the street from the hardware store was a cozy-looking coffee shop, small enough to fit enough people and you made a note to visit later. Maybe even tomorrow.

You take in the oranges, yellows, and golds for the leaves littering the streets, signaling the changing season. The noticeable change in temperature when you first got here was indicative that you may see some snow for the first time in ages. That puts a small smile on your face as you turn into the driveway, happy that you made it back home.

Home….home…

Something that you haven’t felt in a long time came back to you and all you could do was enjoy that moment for a while, lying your head back against the seat as you finally realize that you have a home of your own. Your place of peace.

Thunk

“Ouch..”

Thunk… THUNK!!

“OW!! Dammit!!” You screech out, dropping the hammer to the floor and you suck on your injured thumb. The stinging pain ran down the whole of your thumb, throbbing slowly as you tried to quell the discomfort. It was hour 2 of trying to put the mantel up and no YouTube tutorial in the world could help the obvious.

You were not a handy person…

Nor did you have enough manpower to get the job done. There was no way you would be able to hold a heavy piece of wood and drill it into the wall. At least that’s the excuse that you came up with. You got off the ladder, frustrated by the entire idea.

But one thing is for sure; you couldn’t be mad and hungry. You didn’t have the energy to attempt to cook anything so you decided that pizza or takeout would be the greatest choice. With a half-defeated spirit, you plop down on your couch and start to search for restaurants on your phone. There were a couple of pizza places that stood out as well as some Thai and Chinese places.

You were stuck on both but before you could make a choice, a ring at the bell startled you, making your head snap to the door. The figure on the outside covered the entire length of the door so you couldn’t get a good look at the person’s face. The bell rings again and you stay still, uncertain if you should answer or not.

“Maybe they’ll go away…” you thought to yourself, noticing some movement at your door before the person stood still again.

A ding coming from your phone fills the room and you jump, finding it behind you as you look to see what app went off or your weekly email from your dad that you don’t bother reading. Instead, you see a text message from an unfamiliar number reading.

It’s Curtis from the hardware store. Jerry told me to come over. Just wondering if you’re home.

“Shit!” You whispered loudly, running up to the door to swing it open. Curtis steps back, giving you a first look at him as you crane your neck up to look at him. He is… very tall with a clean buzz cut to match the neatly trimmed beard on his face. His plaid shirt spread over his expansive shoulders, a thin cotton shirt hugging the noticeable broad chest that could be a great pillow for someone.

Or you….

Nope! You couldn’t be thinking this way about a stranger, even if he looked like a warm hug and a piece of art. You have been staring at him for too long, the clearing of his throat snapped you back to reality and you finally could think, “Um, you’re Curtis? Jerry’s guy right?”

Curtis chuckled, adjusting his bag as he took a look at you, “Yeah I’m the guy. I help him out sometimes,” a smirk pulled on his lips as if he knew something you didn’t.

But it was no matter, you needed a mantel and you were going to let him do it, “So Curtis… Chinese or pizza?” You say as your stomach grumbles for something greasy, “Pick or I’m choosing both,” you look at him with a straight face, feeling small on the inside with him almost towering over you.

“I’m not opposed to both and I’ll even pay for it.”

“Nope. I pay. You fix. There’s a hammer that lost it’s life in there and I just can’t go back into that massacre. So, I’ll pay and feed you. That a deal?”

Curtis takes one long look at you, standing straight before shrugging his shoulders, “It’s not like I can say no, right? You are the boss, ma’am.”

A tiny shock sent through when he said those words, but you quelled it down before you were able to speak, “I like you already Curtis. I think we’ll be just fine,” you smile, moving out of his way so that he can come in.

A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth before he walks past you, stopping to lean down, “ You had me at food, ma’am. I’ll never say no to eating,” he steps into your house as you follow behind, closing and locking up. Curtis takes a look around, making note of the familiarity of the house, “This is the old Hancock place. We didn’t think they would ever sell it,” the timbre of his voice trailing as he begins to look around the place.

You follow behind him, mimicking the path of his sight as you notice some things that need to be repainted or even redone. The mention of the previous owners intrigues you and you decide to ask, “Were they well known around here?”

“One of many. I live down the street so I was here many days playing with the other kids. Time goes by fast is all,” a small smile pulls at this lip as he turns to you, “By the looks of everything, I think this house is in good hands.”

His words warm you in a way that you’ve never felt before, causing a nervous chuckle to escape you before you could stifle it. You quickly recover, taking a deep breath as you try to change the subject, “Ready to see the bomb I let off in my room?” Smirking a bit as you begin to walk down the hallway.

Curtis follows along, snickering at you, “I’m sure it’s not that….” He takes a look at your room as he stands at the threshold, taking everything in. “What exactly did you try to do in here?” Genuine confusion on his face as he tries to make sense of all the scattered materials on your floor.

You stand in the middle of the room, looking around before looking at him, “I was trying to put my mantle up. I read all the instructions, looked at tutorials and nothing,” You knew that you should have waited but determination surperceded your memory. Which is why you were in the predicament you were in now. You look around, finally seeing the actually mess in your room, feeling your heart race and before you knew it… “You know what? Let me clean this up. Shit… I should have never… I’m so sorry let me get this cleaned up. I’ll be quick, I promise,” you say hurriedly as you begin to pick things up and put them back down, feeling the frustration arise as you try to grab anything on the floor in sight.

The sight before Curtis was like a tornado and he needed to stop it before you went into a full on panic attack. He steps over, placing his hands on your shoulders, looking down at you, “Woah, woah! Slow down there. It’s fine, I’ve seen worse okay?” He says softly, keeping you in place as you begin to calm down, breathing deeply, “There you go, keep breathing,” his instructions are all you can hear as the blood lowers from your ears slowly. You hadn’t felt that feeling in months and one mistake sent you into a frenzy.

You’re not there anymore…

You’re free…

You’re going to be okay…

You repeat that in your head over and over, listening to Curtis as you keep your breath steady until you no longer feel that familiar tightness in your chest. The room begins to come back into view the first thing you see is the cerulean orbs staring down at you. For a moment, you see just a speck of green in them and you decide to get lost for just a second.

The sound of your name brings you back to life as you hear it come from Curtis’s lips, sounding like a the sweetest thing you ever heard. He’s silent for a second, paying attention to beauty of your eyes, clearing his throat before he sees you fully alert, “You okay?”

You do a quick nod, taking another deep breath, “Yeah… yeah. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t sweat it. We all get overwhelmed,” he says in a reassuring tone as she squeezes your shoulders lightly, “Relax. I’m here to fix and you have some food to order. M’ not picky either,” he smirks lightly as you let out a soft laugh.

“Who’s the boss here, you or me?”

Curtis takes a deep breath, letting out a quick chuckle, “You are and what happened to the food boss?”

“Oh right! What kind of boss am I?” You teased, pulling away from him and walking out of the room, “One round of sinful food coming up!” You shout, going out to grab your phone before sitting down. You take another breath, replaying the way Cursis said your name. It wasn’t said with vitriol or disgust.

But with care…

You wanted him to say again. Just like that… Just to give you something that you always craved….

#gemoriginal #chris evans characters #chris evans #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett imagine #curtis everett x black!reader #curtis everett x black female reader #curtis everett #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett fic #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis Everett series

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year ago

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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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biteofcherry · 1 year ago

Text

No such thing as finality

vampire!Curtis Everett x reader; Dracula!Curtis Everett x reader

summary: When Curtis returns to his newly acquired mansion in London, he's greeted by an unexpected sight...

warnings: angst; so so much angst; and feels; dark-ish; a bit of blood (there are vampires in this story, after all); mention of death;

Author's note: This is my small contribution to @witchywithwhiskey's Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon. The classic horror movie I based my inspiration on is Bram Stoker's Dracula. Though, me being me, I put a wicked twist to it. Hope you enjoy! The title "No such thing as finality" is also a quote from the Dracula book.

Lush scent of roses, bowing their graceful necks as wind gained momentum, didn’t fully cover the sweet, decadent smell of freshly spilled blood.

It would lure him in curiosity in any other circumstances, but since he didn’t expect anyone to be willingly bleeding inside his mansion, it made him wary.

Curtis wasn’t scared. There was no human, nor creature in this universe that could truly harm him. Any attack that may happen upon him, would be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. He could rip them apart with bare hands; move so fast and snap their neck before they even blinked; sink his fangs into an artery and rip it out; take the shape of a beast and tear them inside out.

He should do it for the sheer audacity of breaking into his household, as newly acquired and not yet fully lived-in it was.

Taking measured steps, Curtis walked through the open wings of the glass, orangerie doors. Moonlight reflected in crystal chandeliers. Shadows crept along the walls, attempting to intimidate, but quickly withdrawing in submission to his own, chilling darkness.

There was a faint glow of warm light seeping from beneath the double door leading to the ballroom. The sound of crackling fire announced someone’s preparation for his return.

Curtis lifted a hand and the door opened in a burst, a gust of wind rubbing against his cheek affectionately before it whipped inside in a cold snap.

His gaze instantly fell on the crumpled body in the middle of the polished, hardwood dancefloor - a decorative gore centerpiece of blue silk, soft skin and pool of ruby red blood.

He recognized her.

Mina.

That dress was the one he gifted her; as inappropriate as it was, since her engagement ring still shined on her slender finger and she had made no promise of breaking that word to Jonathan Harker, even if her lips trembled to say more than just a thank you to Curtis. Her lovely face of soft lines and ethereal delicacy, which he drew obsessively in the past weeks, remained angelic as her life slipped away.

Curtis knew her, craved her and now he felt… mildly irritated.

A frown marred his face as he searched his feelings. Surely he should feel something stronger. Rage that would fly him across the room. Despair that would turn him into a wailing beast.

There was a flicker of annoyance - both at having her snatched from his grasp before he got to explore this madness and at being challenged so obviously.

As an apex predator he didn’t entertain any form of challenge.

Slowly, his eyes moved from Mina’s dying body to the hem of your shimmering gown inches from the dark pool of blood.

It was one of your favorite dresses - an almost translucent, pale fabric lined with exquisite sparks that gave the illusion of your body being encrusted in diamonds. Yet you didn’t seem bothered by the fact it bore stains of blood where it splashed when you sunk your teeth into the woman’s neck.

Red essence still dripped from your chin as you boldly stared at Curtis across the room.

“Hello, husband.”

Beads decorating your hair caught flickers of amber glow as you tilted your head in greeting. In that moment you were the epitome of a dark goddess from centuries ago; one he turned you into when he promised you an eternity at his side. One who walked with him through the darkness and filled it with your own light.

Light he forgot about in the fleeting moment of obsession.

“Beloved.” Though Curtis’ voice bore an undertone of reprimand at what you have done, his term of endearment didn’t change. “You’ve overstepped.”

Your eyes flashed red glow at his admonition, as it hinted at the importance of the dying, pathetic reflection of a woman from eons ago. She was not important! She couldn’t be important to him. You were!

“Overstepped?!” You hissed, your fangs elongating as you turned abruptly. “I was left in the castle, foolishly dreaming of and preparing for the move to the estate my dear husband went to secure. Meanwhile he fucking romanced a silly, mortal goose!”

“Mortal she may have been, but Mina wasn’t as unimpressive as you make her to be.” He didn’t know why he was defending his betrayal, since there was still not a single flare of rage urging him to snap your neck.

Curtis didn’t think there’d ever be a time the mere thought of ending your immortal life entered his mind. Though he felt a pang of pain, somewhere in the hollowness of his chest where a heart should beat, when he realized the weight of hurt he must’ve caused you as he prowled after Mina.

“I’m sure her face resembling your dead first wife was a truly impressive genetic lottery win,” you snorted, “but have you become as all those pathetic mortal men, ready to cheat on their actual wife with a new hot piece of ass?!”

“Do not accuse me of something that didn’t happen.” His irises splintered; red scythe filling over the blue iridescence like an eclipse taking over the sun.

A broken giggle bubbled on your lips. Your gaze shifted away from him, staring at the flames in one of the fireplaces.

“Oh, have I come just in time to prevent you from giving her the biggest fang?” You asked bitterly.

In a flash, Curtis was across the room. Fingers curling around the front of your neck and slamming you into the opposite wall. He pressed you against it, his grip on your throat not loosening and the heat of his body enfolding yours.

Curtis was considered a dead creature, but he burned as if the hellfire itself ran through his veins. It was only him, though. He created you, but you never felt your own warmth. There were others whom he sired over the centuries and who sired next generations of vampires. They all ran cold, too. Only Curtis’ dark flame burned eternal.

“You’re treading on thin ice.” He warned you, even as he delighted in the intense emotion you provoked. With you everything was always intense.

Always… alive.

Curtis was angry that you would accuse him of such a disgusting act like cheating. Angry at himself for giving you the reason to think the worst of him.

His obsession with Mina was unhealthy and borderline stalking. He was gifting her with attention and this one material present. But he didn’t have a plan of what he wanted from her exactly. Even as he played with the verbal seduction she was slowly falling for, not once did he imagine bedding her, or turning her.

It was more of a need to keep her, explore her, hold on to whatever she represented for his tortured soul.

But he was blind to how his madness made him act towards you.

“What will you do?” You asked in a hushed tone, redness of your irises receding to the natural color of your eyes. “Are you going to destroy me? The woman you vowed to love for eternity? The woman you turned, branded in every possible way as yours?”

It wasn’t a spiteful challenge of a scorned queen, but a fear of a lively woman who stole his evil heart five centuries ago.

One who often walked barefoot, even before vampirism made you immune to the cold. Wearing simple dresses, with pockets filled with flowers and herbs and shiny stones plucked from mountain rivers. He bought you many stunning dresses over the centuries and you loved them, but most of the time you still wore the simplest ones.

Curtis could only assume you dressed in the finest gown and adorned yourself with jewels to impose your power over Mina. To carry yourself as the queen about to crush a threat to her kingdom.

There was never a threat. Not once did he consider leaving you behind and never returning.

“I’d sooner meet my own end,” his fingers clenched on your throat as he squeezed his eyes in pain.

When he vowed to love and care for you for eternity, until the sun burnt human cities down and reached to scorch your entwined bodies, he meant it with every fiber of his cursed being.

“I haven’t cheated.” Curtis sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t think I would have.”

“And yet here we are…” Your cool breath still carried the metallic scent of blood.

He wouldn’t allow these thoughts to linger, to hurt you with doubt and resentment. He’d rather have you angry with him than broken. And there were ways to stoke your fire, keep it burning and warming him.

“Yes, here we are, Beloved.” Curtis’ tongue flicked out to lick away a drop of blood from the corners of your lips; his tone dropped an octave, vibrating with a beastly timbre. “With you in my grasp. With her dead body getting cold a few steps away and me not even being angry about it.”

Because he really wasn’t. There was that irritation at not having fully figured out what it was exactly that he chased in Mina, but none at the loss of her. Not from your hands, anyway.

You cupped Curtis face with your hands, showing him softness that he claimed he never deserved (but which you taught him to accept, adamant in your decision that he was worthy of your love).

“What was it that you searched for with her?” You asked, even though you were scared of his answer.

“I don’t know.” Curtis admitted; his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. “A memory? A man I used to be? The humanity I lost?”

Mina looked like the exact image of Elisabeta - the wife he had as a human, whose death led him to do unspeakable things that cost him his soul. She was a reflection of the young, impulsive human man, who was too naive and too desperate in his love.

Perhaps Mina’s angelic face brutally reminded him of the crushing pain and being the self-punishing bastard that he was, Curtis clung to her to hurt himself over and over again. Staying away from you, too, because he spiraled down into thoughts of unworthiness once again.

“I didn’t know you at twenty one springs,” you said, “but the man I got to know at his honed one hundred years of vampirism and then spent centuries with? I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.”

Curtis was a vampire king. The oldest, the first to ever be made. At least the first either of you encountered. He fed on blood, could be brutal about it, or very gentle. Depending who the victim was. There were streaks of ruthlessness and cruelty in him, you witnessed him drown villages in blood then watch it sink into the ground with grim satisfaction.

But he also carried the children from said villages in his arms, finding them new homes in places where humans weren’t as rotten and wouldn’t hurt them like the people of their hometowns had.

Curtis was the monster parents scared their children with; but that monster saved those kids when their parents were the ones abusing them. Or when they allowed others, holy men included, to hurt them.

No, you would never trade Curtis for any other man.

“Not even at this moment of weakness?” Curtis’ deep, low voice resounded with a soft uncertainty.

You were still mad at him, but you couldn’t help that need to comfort him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, scratching lightly at the back of his head in a caress that always made him shudder and melt into your embrace.

“Why do you think I’m still here, facing you?” You sighed, tilting your head back enough to look Curtis in the eyes.

“I could’ve ripped her to pieces and then fled. Leave you alone in the misery you would have brewed for yourself.” That was what Curtis did at least once every decade - sink into a really low mood and break your heart with how vulnerable and helpless he was at the time.

“But, my dear husband, I love you too fiercely to let you go. The heart that you claim is void of humanity and care is one that made me say yes when you offered me immortality at your side.”

“I feared…” You dropped your gaze down. “I feared you went after her, because you grew bored of me. That I was so easily replaceable.”

Throughout the centuries not once did Curtis stray away, nor did he isolate himself from you. Sometimes, when he was in his depressive mood he’d often space out, sinking into his gloomy thoughts, but even then he was physically nearby. Mindlessly caressing your body as you cuddled him and anchoring himself to you.

This trip across the sea took long, but the time kept stretching and stretching as Curtis worked on all the formalities of buying a mansion and re-settling onto a new soil. Impatient for his return, you decided on visiting him.

It was supposed to be a surprise for him, but turned into a shock for you when you saw that woman’s starstruck gaze as he escorted her to the carriage.

Curtis gripped your chin between his fingers and gently tilted your face up. Sadness in his gaze crumbled way to determination.

“Never.” He vowed. “It’s a burden I have to carry now, knowing that I’ve hurt you.”

“I’ll give you centuries to make it up to me.” You allowed your lips to curve in a small smile, then leaned to press a soft kiss to Curtis’ mouth.

“Most gracious, Beloved.” Curtis smiled against your lips. He let go of your chin, sneaking that hand down your body and gripping your thigh. His other hand was still wrapped around your neck, fingers pressing a tad harder. Just the way you liked.

In a swift move, he hoisted you up. Your legs wrapped around his hips, the snick of ripping fabric making you giggle.

“I’ve yet to welcome you properly to our new mansion.” Curtis purred, licking a broad stroke across your bloodied chin. “You’ve already christened it with blood. Now I want to fill the walls with your sounds of pleasure.”

#witchywithwhiskey #horrormoviehoeathon #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett imagine #curtis everett fic #vampire!curtis everett #no such thing as finality

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lilacevans · 11 months ago

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— lila’s secret project🤎

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missacidburn928 · 1 year ago

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All Aboard The Friday Fantasy Train

Chapter 5 of It's Hard For Me To Say... is now live on ao3!

Click the link above to enjoy.

As Always,

Happy Reading Heathens!

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year ago

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Much Too Fast, Part 1

Summary: Spotting Curtis Everett broke down on the side of the road, you just had to pick him up. Didn’t you?

Pairings: Curtis Everett X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, hitchhiking, drinking, PIV sex, dry humping, fingering, squirting, mentions of oral sex, early indications of a D/s relationship, cheating (?), 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5K

Series Masterlist

A/N: this is 100% one of @tis-thedamn-season brain. Not going to lie...I love it!

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Looking at the clock in your car you sigh. Getting closer to your destination every mile. Putting more and more space between you and the place you used to call home. This was the perfect opportunity to start a new life. You weren’t even running from anything, you just wanted to see more. Wanted to do more. Moving to a new state, a bigger city, and to a possible beautiful home.

There were still so many doubts. So many what if’s, but you were young. Your parents told you that you needed to take the chances you were given. Live life, and experience new things. More than the little podunk town on the opposite side of the United States. The east coast was going to give you more opportunities that is something you were sure of. That you were positive.

The current hope you had was to make it to your last hotel before the rain started. And then the last couple of hours to Boston. One more sleep, and you would be there. You needed to stay awake. Stay alert, and hope for the best.

Curtis on the other hand is annoyed. No service, and broke down on the side of the road. The rumble of thunder makes him even more irritated. He had just a few more hours on his mini road trip, and he would be home. And then this stupid old car broke down. He should have known better. A mechanic taking a stupid dumb car. Out in the middle of nowhere, with no fucking cell service.

He couldn’t even remember why he needed to take this trip every year. And in the predicament he’s in currently it just pisses him off. He leans on the hood of the car, hoping that someone will see him stranded. The chances were low. He knew he was probably going to be staying the night in the backseat. He was tired. He was agitated.

You squint your eyes in the distance, seeing a figure leaning onto a car. This is just like how every horror movie starts. But you feel the need to pull over. Slowing your Mini Cooper down, but staying on the road. It was a small two lane road, and you hadn’t seen a car on here for miles.

“Hey, uh…woah,” the man that approaches your car backs up quickly. “Sorry, I know this is going to sound lame and dumb, but you’re a young girl out here alone, and I don’t want you to feel that I’m trying to take advantage of you or chop you up for…this isn’t making you feel better is it?”

“No. Not at all,” what he was saying didn’t make you feel better, but how he was saying it did. “Are you having car trouble or do you normally just lean against your car hoping for someone to chop up?”

“Ah, you caught me,” he leans over, trying to get a good view of you, but still standing far enough away. “Although, my getaway car’s transmission went out. There’s no cell service here. Can’t even call my partner to come tow this damn car.”

“Your partner?” Curtis watches as your arm starts to relax a bit more. The grip on your steering wheel loosens up.

“Yeah, we own a garage together.”

“Imagine that, a mechanic with car trouble,” Curtis gives you a chuckle, stepping closer to your car. “Not much of a mechanic are you?” His arms rest on your open window, and against your better judgment, you still don’t tense up. “What are you doing out here?”

“I go on a road trip for about two weeks every year. I was almost home. Heading to Newton.”

“Me, too,” Curtis’ eyes drift up and down your front. He tries to make himself not look too much like a predator who had found its next prey, but you seriously were a gem. Out here all alone, in your tiny little car, loaded up with piles of shit. This car was too small for how much you had in here.

“Newton’s a few hours away, and it’s getting late.”

“Oh, I’ve got a hotel about twenty minutes up the road. Um…do you need a ride? I’m sure that they have a phone there. Seeing how there’s no service.”

“Uh, did your daddy not teach you not to pick up strangers?” Of course he did, but somehow this handsome stranger was making you feel comfortable.

“Should I be scared?”

“Of me? No, but isn’t that what a killer would tell you? I seriously mean you no harm, but I am questioning your judgment here. You got pepper spray or anything?” Nodding your head, you dig around in your cup holder holding it up. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?”

“You’re not making me feel better about this now. But the GPS does say the hotel is just up the road, less than an hour to go. Hand me your keys,” Curtis freely hands the car keys to you, and you stuff them in your doors pocket, unlocking the car, and letting Curtis clumsily get in.

Finally putting into perspective how long his legs are. Cramping them up, and sitting uncomfortably beside you. An adorable little giggle escapes your mouth, and he turns to glare at you, “You think this is funny? Why in the world do you have this tiny little car?”

“It’s adorable,” him squished up in the passenger seat was really adorable.

“It is useless for more than one person. Where are you driving from? Oh my god, how was this even comfortable? This is terrible. Please tell me this isn’t your only car. If my daughter ever asks for one of these it’s not just a no, it’s a hell no,” the fact he was already talking about a future daughter oddly makes you tremble. “What is the purpose of these cars?”

“Some of us don’t have legs that go on for days. You know, I didn’t even get your name?”

“It’s Curtis. And you are?” You quickly give him your name, and he shakes his head no, “You should be called Grace.”

“Why is that?”

“Because, you and this tiny little car are my saving Grace. Does she even get over fifty?”

“Yes. The bags of clothes in the back aren’t helping your space. Your seat isn’t as far back as it could be. Beggars can’t be choosers though. I’m from Washington state by the way. Why do you go on a road trip every year?”

Curtis is constantly adjusting his seating. Knees up higher than was normal, and pressing up against the dash of the car. Twenty minutes wasn’t a long drive. He could do this. “Uh, just to get away. Life can come at you fast. Mine didn’t exactly turn out the way I wanted it to. Without getting too into anything, I helped a friend out. We got ourselves stuck, drifted, and somehow remained friends, and we make it work. We have to.”

“I’m not going to ask.”

“Please don’t,” Curtis looks out his window, appearing as if something was bothering him, but you didn’t want to pry. If he wanted to tell you more he could. But you know he won’t. “So New England?” Finally he looks towards you, and you gulp. Gripping tighter to the steering wheel. Oddly trying to rub your thighs together. He was handsome. Too attractive.

“Yeah, sometimes you get tired of the same thing.”

“What’s a pretty girl like you, driving all the way out here for? I’m assuming you’ve got something lined up?” His deep blue eyes coast up and down your body, noticing every tiny movement in you make with a smirk. “Is there something wrong?”

“No. No, I uh — yeah, I’ve got something. Gotta meet with them, and would uh have a place to um…to live.”

“Hmm, you’re just breaking all kinds of rules, huh?” You glance back over to Curtis, and he was still eyeing you like his prey. His legs spread as much as they could, but in this tiny car, he couldn’t get the effect he was wanting. He didn’t have to try to make you want him. You wanted him.

“What?”

Curtis chuckles, wiping his thumb and middle fingers on the sides of his beard. You reach towards the air conditioner, turning it up. “You picked me up, and the way you’re talking…are they putting you up in a house?”

“Yeah. What…what do you do in Newton?” Something had to change. The topics had to go to something else besides you. It was getting more difficult to drive and pay attention.

“I told you, I’m a mechanic. Gotta garage with my buddy, Jax. We stay busy. Blue collar work. Beats the traveling bullshit. I don’t get it. Traveling for work. Traveling because you want a vacation. On your own.”

“Did you just get off a two week road trip?”

He turns to look at you, that devilish grin still there, “I like you.”

“Why?”

“Called me out on my own bullshit quickly. A lot of people won’t do that. They say I’m too argumentative. I’m not. I’m blunt, there’s a difference. Isn’t that the damn hotel?”

“Yeah,” you respond. Turning into the hotel and the gravel crunches under your tires, and you hate that this is it. Curtis was about to make a call, and get something worked out, and this would be it. You grab your backpack, and walk in with Curtis.

He allows you to check in before stepping up to the counter, “I need a room for the night.”

“I’m sorry, sir, we have no more vacancies.”

“There’s…can I just — I guess hang out in your lobby then. I gotta call someone in the morning to help with my car, and…”

“I’m sorry, sir, no loitering. Have a good evening,” she walks off, and goes back to her seat. Picking up her phone, and letting Curtis know that the conversation was over.

“Just my luck. Damn. Thanks, here let me get you some money. I’ll…hell, I don’t know, start walking.”

“It’s two in the morning,” biting at your lip, you know this is the most bizarre and ridiculous thing you have ever done. He was nice. He was hot as fuck. And you were terrified. Not of him, but of moving here. Moving away from what you knew and into the unknown. All the warnings you push back in your mind. You had made it this far, and he hadn’t killed you.

“I know, darling. I’ve been in worse places.”

“No, I mean…I’ve got a second bed,” Curtis cocks his brow up at you, and you slowly exhale. It was okay. You needed something random and fun tonight. Needed to get out of your head, and Curtis looked like just the man. And the worst he could say was no, and you would never see him again.

“Hey, it’s fine. You’ve done plenty for me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“Then let me rephrase it; would you like to come up to my room for a drink? There’s a mini bar.”

“You’re testing fate?”

“I see a sexy man with nowhere else to go tonight. And I want a drink with him. There’s two beds,” he gives you a bow, and you start walking towards the elevators. Everything's in slow motion. Down to the roaming eyes of Curtis. Licking his lips as he stares at you, and you are quaking.

“C’mere,” he whispers when the elevator door closes, and you walk over to him. His thumb brushes over your cheek gently. Looking into your eyes as he traces your pouting lips, “You’re shaking. I won’t hurt you, and I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. There’s two beds, remember?”

“I want to use one.”

“Then breathe,” the ding of the elevator has his hand drifting down your front, and grabbing your hand. Starting to lead the way to the room. “Key?” You hand him the key, and take your final breath. You invited him.

The second the door closes, your hand glides up his chest, settling behind his neck, “No mini bar?”

“Oh, that’s right,” he sighs when you step away from him, going to the bar to get two small bottles of liquor, “Tito’s or Jack Daniels?”

“I’ll take my chances with Jack. Join me on the bed?” He plops down, and taps on the bed. Waiting on you to join him before lifting up his bottle, “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” you copy, drinking the vodka in one sip. The little bit of alcohol was giving you a bit more of a confidence boost. Looking up at him as you listen to him start to tell some story.

You lean more into him, trying to listen to his words, but it is just static. Curtis looks down at his lap, and his raspy voice moans. You check to see what he was staring at, and your hand is palming him over his jeans on it’s own accord, “Is this okay?” You ask him with a pout. Had you read all the signs wrong? He knew what you were talking about, right?

“I knew exactly where this was going when you asked me for a drink.”

“Oh,” you start to move your hand, but Curtis grabs yours with his own mitt sized hand. Placing it back over his swollen jeans, and starts your motions again. “I don’t normally do this.”

“Me neither. So lets for tonight, toss aside those pesky feelings telling us not to give into our primal needs as humans. We’ve both been checking each other out tonight, so let’s act on those needs. Okay?” You nod your head at him, adding a bit more pressure to your movement, “Why now?” He asks, groaning as he leans back on the bed. Watching you enjoy his hardening member.

“I don’t want to be the person I was in Washington. I want to have fun. Be spontaneous.”

“Mmm,” his hips start rocking into the air with your movements. When you start to undo his zippe, he tugs at your leg, guiding you to straddle him. His giant sized hands rub up your thighs and to your ass, coaxing you to start grinding on him.

“So picking up men on the side of the road isn’t a normal thing?”

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head with a smirk. Getting more into the movements, and you pull off your shirt. Reaching behind you to undo your bra, you let it fall to the floor as Curtis starts groping your tits.

“Well isn’t today my lucky day?” Sitting up in bed, he pulls you closer to him. Peppering kisses along your jaw, and creating a trail all the way to your mouth, and you whimper into him. His length was right at your core, and he was throbbing. Just as needy as you. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Curtis,” you whine as your hips gyrate over him. Making a mess of his pants already. It had been awhile since you had sex. He had his thick fingers gripping the spears of your ass, and pressing you harder on him. “Do…do you…” you can hardly speak from the kisses he was continuing to assault you with.

“I always carry protection, don’t worry.”

“Curtis, you’re hard.”

“And you’re wet. What are you going to do about it?” He gives both your nipples a quick pinch, and your movements pick up. Riding on top of him like your life depended on it.

“I wanna come.”

“Just like this, little lady?”

“Uh huh,” biting at your lip, you pout at him as you move.

“Then make yourself come. Enjoy yourself. I’m not a little boy, I can hold off,” he lets out a guttural moan when you circle your hips over him. Guiding his hands to your tits, wanting him to play with you while you get off.

You are soaked, and so close. Right there. Hands on his shoulders as your desperately rub one out over him. Fire courses through your veins, and your movement stutters as the sweetest pleasure races through your veins.

“Thatta, girl,” reaching into his pocket, he pulls a packet out, and reads the expiration date, “Still good,” you crash your lips into his. Hands rubbing over him before pushing off his jacket, while he yanks your jeans open.

He flips you over onto the bed, and stands up. Watching as you struggle to tug your jeans off, but Curtis reaches towards them, yanking both the jeans and panties off at once, hissing when you spread your legs apart.

“Good fucking, girl,” he walks out of his jeans, his cock making his boxer briefs look uncomfortably crowded. He gives you a wink when he pulls his underwear down. A thick and heavy cock springs up, and you yip, your legs starting to close.

“You changing your mind already?”

“No,” you wanted him. Wanted this. But that cock was thick. Almost able to envision the severe stretch he was going to give you.

“You can take it. And if not, I can make it fit. We can stop any time, okay?” You nod your head, trying to steady your breathing, “I need your words. I need to know that you can stop me if you want to stop.”

“Yes. We can stop at any time,” Curtis pops the packet in his mouth, giving the foil a tear. His lithe fingers place the rubber on his tip, and he starts to roll it on. Pressing his knee on the bed, he gives your leg a jerk down the bed, before his wide body kneels between your thighs.

Spitting on his Hanford before roaming his fingers through your folds, “You are drenched. When did you first get wet?”

“Well…”

“It wouldn’t have been in the car, would it? I saw you moving your legs,” he pushes two fingers into your weeping cunt while his palm stimulates your clit, “Oh my god. What a tight little pussy we have here. You hear that?” He pumps his fingers into you more vigorously. Your wet heat was making the most vulgar and loud squelching sounds.

“You are a sloppy, little one. Did I make you that wet? Oh god, you need to be fucked good and hard, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” you beg. It had been too long. Almost two years. One bad breakup had turned you away from men, but now he had you turning into a big slut. His cock forgotten as he tries to ruin you. Sex before was all about your boyfriend. Curtis wanted your pleasure first. “Please, Curtis.”

“She’s polite, too. Oh, fuck, she’s a juicy one. Mmm, I already feel you squeezing me. Come on. Uhh, come on,” his fingers curl, and he sets off at an earth shattering speed. You try to close your thighs when you can’t take anymore, but Curtis shoves them back apart. “Come on. Give it to me. When you come, I’ll fuck you. You can do it. Come for me. You're so close.”

Your hands grab onto the comforter, and you grit your teeth, not wanting to be too loud. And when you squirt onto his thighs, he keeps pumping. “There ya go! There’s a good fucking girl. Just like that.”

“Oh fuck.’

“That’s what I’m going to do,” getting closer to you, he slaps his cock over your clit, “You still want this?”

“Yes, please.”

“She is well behaved,” your mouth goes slack as Curtis pushes through your entrance. Slowly splitting you open as you whimper. “Holy shit. My god, you’re a tight little thing.”

“Don’t stop,” you plead as he slows his motion. “All the way, please,” Curtis continues his journey into your body. Not stopping until he slides all the way in. You lift off the bed, staring at where the two of you connect. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving your cunt a moment to stretch, little lady. You okay?” You furrow your brows, biting your lip as you nod. “You never had a big dick like this?”

“It’s like a fucking traffic cone,” Curtis’ eyes close as he chuckles at you.

“A traffic cone?”

“It’s so much bigger at the base. How…how did you get it in there?”

“And looka here,” his hand rubs over a bump on your stomach, “You feel me all the way in your belly, huh? That right there is where I’m at. So you want this traffic cone to fuck you?”

“My god, yes!”

“Mmm,” his hands rub up and down your thighs. Giving the tops of your legs the sweetest little tickles before sliding to the backside of your knees. Lifting your legs before slamming them on the bed beside your body. Keeping you good and spread so he can watch himself spear into you.

His thrusts are slow and deliberate. Drawing himself all the way out before plunging back in. Your hands hold onto his wrists, and you make the most beautiful desperate sounds. Scratching down his forearms when he picks up his speed. It felt as if he was pounding his entire weight into you. Bouncing you further up the bed.

He would love to see you riding his cock, but your pitiful little whimpers and whines of his name have him addicted. You are reactive. He gets to see your tits rock with the pounds into you. He didn’t do this shit. And after the year he had, it was what he needed. He needed this warmth. He hadn’t felt more alone and all while he was with someone, and you were just what he needed.

He hadn’t felt this wanted in a while. Sex was treated as more of a chore. Not this desperate need to get off. It hadn’t been exciting. It was predictable. It was when she needed it. But you are receiving every bit of him. With the way you are pouting at him, and keeping your eyes only on him, he knows he could have you doing whatever he wanted you to.

Completely into a submissive role, and you didn’t even know him. “Curtis!” Your whispered screams are giving him life. The walls of your cunt flutter around him making him completely weak. He wanted to keep you around. Newton wasn’t too big. But just one night was never going to be enough.

“Curtis!” Whining out his name as your head tilts back.

“You keep…keep squeezing me like that, and I’m not — not going to last,” he pants out. He had never felt someone react like this. “Let go, little darling. Let go for me.”

Your pussy quivers, and legs tremble as the hardest orgasm he has ever witnessed from a woman flows through your body. You clench around him, and his forehead collapses on your shoulder. Letting your pussy milk him dry. Hugging every part of him perfect, convulsing around him so hard that he didn’t have to fuck you. Your walls make sure every drip of his spend fills up the condom, and he can only deeply breathe on you.

“That. Was. Incredible. You breathing?”

“Barely,” you choke out. “How many condoms do you have?”

“Sorry. I just got the one. Whew,” he sits back up in the bed, and slowly pulls out of you. Your cream coated his length so thickly. “My god. Oh my god. I didn’t want to leave you.”

Leaving your legs spread, your eyes start to drift closed. He figures you have been driving for a long time. You look so peaceful, comfortable. Letting your gaping hole be fully visible for him to gaze at. When he starts to lay on the other bed, you jolt up, “Sleep in this bed.”

“There’s two beds.”

“Then we’ll sleep in that one. This one is messy,” Curtis shakes his head with a smile. Pulling the blankets down in the other bed before picking you up bridal style.

“Fine, you twisted my arm. I need you to have at least panties on. Where’s a clean pair?”

“Backpack,” he pulls on his own underwear before bringing your backpack over to you. “Where are you going?”

“You need water. Panties. Then sleep.”

“Okay,” you even shimmy your shoulders. It didn’t take much to make you happy. He definitely wanted to see you again. Maybe start from the beginning and take you out on a date. Spend some time together before he tells you about his complicated life. But for tonight, he was just going to lay down beside you.

Sending a text to Jax, he crawls in the bed with you. He didn’t know why you are so comfortable, but holding a soft woman for the night isn’t something he was going to complain about. He was just going to let you sleep. Rest. Tomorrow was a new day.

Pulling into the beautiful home, you crumple up that piece of paper, and toss it into the floorboard. You knew it was too good to be true, and are slightly annoyed for getting your hopes up. He was a man that you picked up on the side of the road, and had the best sex of your life. Curtis was generous enough to leave his number on the pad of paper at the hotel, but you woke up alone. Nothing was stolen, so you are thankful for that, and that you are still alive.

And now it was back to the reason why you were here. A ridiculously large house, and what waits inside. They had to be rich. A well dressed woman, holding a baby, swings the door open wide. Her arm flails around as she waves to you, “Oh my gosh! I was so scared that you wouldn’t come, and you are early. Come on, please. Hey,” she gives you a strong handshake, and then makes her baby wave to you.

“Ah!! I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’m Tati, and this sweet, beautiful, perfect, and angelic little thing is Poet. But she will also go by Poe. Poe, can you say hey,” the baby babbles a bit, but a hey does come out. “So, I know this kind of a last minute thing. We gotta wait on my…husband. I’m having to fly out unexpectedly. Oh, but don’t think that you have to definitely take the job. My parents said they can help. He’s taking the day off. Uh, so first things first, if you say yes, you will have the pool house. It’s a fully functioning house. I don’t travel too often, but a fair amount. The times that I do, at night, her daddy will have her.”

“Dada,” Poet whispers. She giggles a bit before hiding her face on her mom’s shoulder. Slowly peeking over at you grinning, and you give her a sweet smile.

“Obviously the whole house you will have access to. Poet’s room is downstairs. Your background check is impeccable, you’re up to date with your immunizations, speak French. Honestly on paper you’re perfect, so I’m expecting you to have some flaws somewhere. Anyways, ahh! Sweet girl, guess who is here?” She looks out the window, smiling down at her adorable baby.

“Dada! Aye!”

“Yay!! Daddy is going to be with you all day today. How exciting!”

“Aye!” She claps her hands. Her mouth moving with no words. She was a daddy’s girl.

You turn towards the door with Tati, and your heart drops. In walks the sexiest man that you have ever met. The man that you could still feel all over you. The man that had left you early in the morning, leaving you alone. The man who was your possible employer’s husband.

“Curtis, I hate to do this. But I got called out at the last minute. You know. Anyways, thank you for taking the day off. I’ll be back in two days. If you decide you want the job, Curtis can give you all the lock codes. I left a list of Poe’s medicine’s and allergies on the fridge. Emergency numbers on the hall calendar. There’s a book with all the main contact numbers on it, but Curtis can show you everything else. Eeee!! I hope you decide to stay. Poe can’t quit looking at you. I think that she likes you. Anyways, bye my sweet angel. Ah, you’re such a saving grace. Thank you so much. Bye.”

She gives Curtis a kiss to his cheek before grabbing her suitcase by the door. Continuing to blow kisses to her baby as she walks out, and you and Curtis are left staring awkwardly at one another.

“Dadadadada.”

“I’m her daddy.”

“Mhmmm,” that much was obvious. What wasn’t obvious was that he was married as he was fucking into you last night. You even gave him in the middle of the night head, and he fingered you back to sleep.

“Oh, so we’re going to be like that now? I had you saying please all night last night.”

“Ugh,” this was a bad idea. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Nothing was going to be different here. It was always going to be the same.

“Can you at least let me explain? You gotta. Look at this beautiful girl. Poet Isabella, can you tell Grace, please?”

“Peas,” she whispers, her chunky little legs kicking around.

“You can’t say no to that. When you said please, didn’t I listen?” He might have listened, but he left out that he was married. He was fucking married to your maybe employer. He was married, and he was inside of you.

“This…this is very different and you know,” he shrugs his shoulders. Walking over to a fenced in area, and he sits his daughter down. His eyes looking at her, completely ignoring you. “Fine. Explain.”

“What happened to those manners?” Oh, he was an asshole. You didn’t have to listen to this. Didn’t have to put up with this, and then he purposefully places his left hand where you can see it, and you sit down on the couch.

“Please, explain.”

“Thatta girl.”

Masterlist

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