#snowpiercer series

[heythatsnova]

she snow on my piercer till i 1001 cars long

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Like Animals 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, free use, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you're taken by a man with an insatiable appetite.

Characters: Curtis Everett.

Author’s Note: This is in the same universe as Partners in Crime.

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“You don’t have to be afraid,” the grizzly voice rises in the darkness. “I don’t want you to be... scared.” 

You flinch and tug on your arms, wrists bound behind you, your ankles similarly bound together. You sit in the corner of the black space, knees drawn to your chest, arms crushed into the wall. You whimper as footsteps echo in the void. You blink, trying to see through the layers of shadows. 

You can’t speak. There’s something in your mouth. Dry and coarse. Fabric of some sort. 

“I’m not a monster...” the statement sends a shiver up your spine. 

You turn your head back and forth, dizzy as each scuff of your sneaker, each rustle of fabric, every syllable rolls off the walls you can’t see. You can’t remember how you go here. You don’t remember anything. You just went to bed and woke up in this place. 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” He’s closer, his voice clearer. He’s not long pacing. “You can protect them. From me.” 

A sudden bloom of light blinds you. You squint against the harsh glare of a lantern as it floats closer. It hovers over you and descends slowly. The man behind it holds it just below his face so you can barely make him out. 

“I just need... something to keep me under control.” He clunks the base of the lantern down. “I won’t hurt you either, not if you’re good.” 

You wince and shudder as he reaches for you. He curls his fingers and brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You shy away and he opens his hand, grabbing your head and pulling you forward. His icy blue eyes turn your blood cold. 

“You just have to do what I say. What I want. If you don’t...” he looks away and shakes his head slightly. “You have a sister. Two. They’re pretty, like you. I could find them. They’d just be two more. There would be others along the way.” He brings his other hand up and grips your head between his large hands. “I can’t stop it. I tried.” 

He searches your terrified face and closes his eyes. You feel him quake. “You can stop it. You can stop me. Without you, I won’t be able to control it.” 

You’re heart pounds in your ears. You don’t know who he is or why you’re here. More terrifyingly, how does he know about your sisters? How did he find you? The questions blow through you like a chill. 

“Will you help me?” He squeezes your skull until it aches. He’s strong. So strong. You can only see his face but you can tell he’s bigger than you. 

You bat your lashes as tears bobble on the brims of your eyes. Whatever he wants, you know it’s not good. You know he’s going to hurt you whether you say yes or no. He just might have a bit of mercy if you agree. 

You try to nod. You can only wiggle a little in his grasp. He lightens his hold on your and swirls his broad thumbs against your temples. He leans closer. His dark stumble sharpens his jawline and his brows arch. 

“Yes?” He wonders. 

You nod, this time harder. You can’t stop. You rock towards him and garble around the gag. 

He hushes you and stills your head. He lets you go and hooks his thumb under the strip tied around your mouth. He pulls it down then digs out the wad from between your teeth. You cough and lean into the corner. 

“I...Thank you.” 

He crumples the fabric in his hand and snatches up the lantern. He stands and shuts it off. His treads scrape on the floor as he walks into the darkness and your left in the blotchy black nothingness, the ring of light still burnt in your retina. 

A door opens, letting in a gust, then closes with a deafening clang. You whimper and sink back. Your wrists and ankles ache from constriction and your jaw feels loose without the cloth to bite down on. Your tears overflow at last and you devolve into helpless sobs. 

What is this? 

You huddle as you try to stave off the cold creeping from the cement beneath you and the dingy walls. You think you’re underground but you could be wrong. It hardly matters where you are. 

Hinges squeal and you flinch again, hitting your head off the hard wall. The footsteps approach again and you cower. Something clunks down in front of you and you hold your breath. The man walks through the darkness and the lantern glows once more, further away. He hangs it from a hook and approaches you again. 

You sniff back your tears as your cheeks are left raw and cold with the wet sheen. 

You look down at the metal tray. With the light out of your face, you can see better. Not clearer, but more of him. He’s tall and burly. He gets down on his knees and sits back on his heels. He takes the thick metal spoon from the tray and stirs around the creamed corn. 

“Eat,” he orders. 

He raises the spoon and you open your mouth. The corn is sweat and gooey. You swallow it down even as the texture repulses you. He feeds you a spoonful at a time, no time for you to resist or taste. Next, he scoops up the mashed potato. 

“Wait,” you say and cough again, your throat dry. “Wait, who are you?” 

“Finish.” He drags out the last letters. 

You nod and look down at the spoon. You lean forward and open your mouth. You eat as diligently as he feeds you, eager for an answer. The turkey is coated in gravy but its bland. You swallow down the last bite and he offers the cup of water. You drink it down greedily until you choke. 

He pulls away as you catch your breath. You slump against the wall again and flutter your lashes at him. 

“Please, tell me who you are,” you murmur. 

He takes the cutlery in his hand as he lifts the tray, holding the cup steady with his fingers. He sighs, “my name’s Curtis. I already know yours.” He stands as you gape at him. “But you shouldn’t care who I am, you should’ve asked what I am.” 

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Club AU

A collection of drabbles that intersect at the same club.

THE DUFF (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

NIGHTLIFE (Lee Bodecker, The Devil All the Time)

WASTED (Bucky Barnes, MCU)

SNAKE EYES (Loki, MCU)

MISE EN PLACE (Thor, MCU)

BLACK LIGHT (August Walker, Mission Impossible)

CAUSE OF ACTION (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob)

CARPE NOCTEM (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

BAD REPUTATION (Frank Castle, The Punisher)

UP ALL NIGHT (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

IF YOU CAN’T DANCE (Jonathan Pine, The Night Manager)

HANGOVER (Johnny Storm, Fantastic Four)

TREAT YOU (Peter Parker, MCU)

NIGHT MOVES (Nick Fowler, The 355)

AT FIRST SIGHT (Captain Syverson, Sand Castle)

YOU MAKE ME WANNA (Walter Marshall, Night Hunter)

MEMBERS ONLY (Tommy Shelby, Peaky Blinders)

[charseraph]

Snowpiercer

[vildo]

Joseph Dilford you will always be famous

[catscoffeeandmarlboros]

I might be repeating myself but RUTH RUTH RUTH

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Shuffle With Me, Houston Stranger

From: Handiwork Series

Pairing: Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Curtis keeps a busy life between helping out on the farm and running the garage. There are some moments and places that give him reprieve, though, and one of them happens to be a bar where a certain sweetie works.

Word count: 3,386

Content/warnings: not many, mentions of drinking and alcohol, bar setting, weird vague emotional states, another guy hopelessly head over boots (what else is new, y’all should know this is how I write all my love interests at his point), menacing foreshadowing

Author’s Note: this takes place at the same time as chapters 3, 4, and 5 of YCMBWH and chapter 1 of The Rainmaker. You can technically read it alone, but the other stories help fill in some gaps. Check out the rest of the AU!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Outta Nowhere AU | Series Masterlist | Next >

Curtis walked into the shop with sore shoulders and a slight ache in his heels from a long day of unexpected work and standing. His cousin had called him in to help out with a few chores at the farm since she had to run the Friday farmer’s market, so the day was long and tiresome.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was go through and double check his books for the auto body shop, so he decided against it. Even if he went through everything tonight, it’s not like it would be quality work.

He figured he’d just quickly make sure everything was in its place in the office and the garage to make paperwork easier for him on Monday and work easier for the guys in the morning. Then, he’d be able to join his cousin and her new farmhand at the bar.

Curtis was organizing his socket wrenches by size when he heard a rattling sound become louder behind him. He turned as he sensed it coming closer, seeing an old truck pull into his garage.

He looked down to check his watch. The shop had been long closed by now, and he had places to be. Based off the noise though, he couldn’t deny something was definitely wrong with the vehicle. If Curtis weren’t such a good man, he would’ve turned the patron away, but there was no saying how far a truck that sounded like that could possibly get.

He tilted his head, examining the vehicle and attempting to peer through the glare in the drivers side window when the engine turned off and he saw a pair of old, comfy shoes step down from the cab. His eyes traced up the body before him and Curtis was speechless. Your hair was just tucked under an old ball cap, nothing fancy.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind, I’m not sure what this sound means and was hoping you had time to take a look at my truck. I know you guys are closed, so it’s no rush, but I’d really appreciate it. I’d rather know where my car is than get stranded out in the middle of nowhere.”

Curtis continued to stand there, mesmerized by you until he shook his head back into the present. “Oh, um, sure. I think I have the evening free, so let me just check on a few things real quick and I can take a look at it.”

Curtis pulled out his phone to text his cousin that he wouldn’t make it to the bar tonight.

He stuffed his phone in his back pocket, going to grab a chair from the front office as you followed. “Never good when a truck that old makes a sound like that.”

You nodded along. “Oh trust me, I know. Darn thing’s even older than me. Usually I’m able to figure out the minor stuff, but this is beyond what I know.”

Curtis nodded when he went to set a metal folding chair down by where you had pulled the truck onto one of his lifts. It scraped against the concrete floor, and he was surprised by the way you simply looked at it, as if you were offended that he’d want you to sit down.

“Oh, by the way, I’m Curtis, I own this shop.” The mechanic stuck out his hand, cleaner than you would’ve expected, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you. One of my coworkers actually suggested I come here when the truck started acting up. Said his best friend was the big cheese.”

Curtis laughed. “Um, he used those exact words? Or are those yours? Where are you from?”

You shook your head. “Oh no, sorry, those were my words. I think he just called you the boss, he’s the bouncer at the bar?”

Curtis clicked his tongue as he walked over to the hood of your car, propping it open. “Okay, you’re talking about my buddy, Edgar. Yeah, I’m glad he sent you to me. He works some shifts for me now and then. So you’re new to town? I go to the bar pretty often, I’ve never seen you there.”

You nodded your head tentatively. “Yeah, didn’t think it would be so noticeable I just moved here from Houston, but I’m really from here and there, lived almost everywhere. Been working at the bar for about a week now.”

Curtis nodded as he looked deeper into your engine, testing the tightness of parts and how full each fluid was. “Well how about that. Yeah, we don’t get too many people moving here, but I’m sure it’s a nice change from the city.”

You nodded and hummed, walking over and leaning under the hood of the car with him. “Agreed. I don’t think many mechanics would be this patient with me out there.”

Curtis lightly chuckled as he looked up at you over his shoulder. “Well I’ll be honest with you, patience is one thing, but you probably won’t think I’m very kind when I tell you this truck probably wont survive the next time you take a far journey if you plan to move…”

His small smile was replaced with a grimace. Maybe if he knew you were leaving soon like you seemed to do so often, he could hold himself back more. He could tell himself that there was no point in being attached, being himself for you to see. He’d hold off on the kindness that poured out to everyone he knew and loved, because it would hurt for you to take it and leave.

Your face held a small smile, though, despite his look of worry. “Well what if I planned on staying?”

Curtis looked back into the engine in an attempt to hide the redness in his cheeks. He was warm at the thought of you sticking around. He jiggled the loose part he found, grunting from leaning over so far, before he spoke up, partially avoiding your question.

“Well, you see this right here. I’d replace it and say it would be good for another couple of years.”

You beamed. “That’s good news!”

Curtis stood up to his full height and for the first time, you noticed just how towering his stature was. Anyone else would be intimidated from a distance, but from this proximity, you could see the kindness in his eyes.

“Yes and no.” It came out softer than he had intended. “I’ve gotta make a special order, and it will probably take at least a week to come in. Do you have another way to get to work?”

You nodded. “Yeah, my apartment isn’t too far from the bar. Walking shouldn’t be an issue.”

He looked at you skeptically. “Are you sure? I know you guys have some pretty late shifts.”

“Curtis, I’ll be fine. I’m tougher than I look.” He sighed in response.

“Alright, if you say so. I’ll put in for that part and in the meantime, your truck can stay here.” He walked over to the workbench and scribbled on a piece of paper, tearing it off and handing it to you.

“Here’s my personal number. In case you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me. I could even set up a ride for you if you change your mind.”

You took the paper, creasing it in the middle and stuffing it in your pocket. “Well, I’ve got a shift tomorrow and I think I might get there on time if I start walking now. Bit of a ways to my place from your shop. Any chance you could drive me home so I can sleep?”

Curtis sighed and checked his watch. “Yeah, I guess so, considering I’m holding your car captive. Come on, I’ll close up and we’ll get you home.”

As you waited for the new car part to be delivered to the shop, you kept working. Bills had to be paid. You had to keep living.

You were surprised the next day at work when Edgar had offered to walk you home after your shift, and every night after then, but didn’t question it. You were just appreciative to have a nice coworker you could trust.

Another surprise was the amount of take out orders that you’d have to give out from the bar. Most of which were going to a certain handsome mechanic.

It was Wednesday night, and the fourth time he’d come to pick up dinner this week. The man must really like cheese curds. You didn’t question it, though, as you handed him his order, asking for updates and waving goodbye with a somber smile as he left too soon, and spoke very little.

What you didn’t know was that Curtis had food at home, sitting in his fridge as he opted for the extra opportunities to see you. You also didn’t know how much he feared opening up his mouth and exposing himself by saying the wrong thing to the first person to make him nervous in a long time. Curtis was generally steady, driven, easygoing, but he could feel that world, that demeanor, start to tilt.

Curtis had a long week. A week much longer than he expected with the extra work he had to do out on the farm instead of in the shop. Sure, he was getting along better and better with Bucky, but that didn’t change the fact that there was too much going wrong.

Cole, that little shit from high school, was back and Curtis’s cousin had gotten stuck in a mine. There was no time for sleep, let alone stopping by the bar with this much of a crisis going on.

As soon as the rocks collapsed in the mine, Curtis was freaking out. “We have to call the police, the fire department, someone to get her out of there. She might not be injured now, but I can’t say the same if there’s a secondary collapse. We need to do something. Now.”

Bucky grabbed him by his collar. “No. No police. It’ll ruin everything.”

Curtis put his hands up in surrender. “Okay then, what do you suppose we do, big guy?”

Bucky paced back and forth, biting his thumbnail with worry. “Gimme a second. I’m figuring it out.” He stopped in his tracks. “Who all knows about the mines?”

“What? What does that ha-“

Bucky cut Curtis off. “Who. All. Knows?”

Curtis shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don’t know, not many people. Me and her, her college roommate, and Jake. That’s it, I think.”

Bucky rapidly reached into the pocket of his jeans and handed Curtis a card from his wallet. “This is my associate Sam. You’re going to call him and tell him those names. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Curtis immediately pulled out his phone, trusting the judgement of his new friend. He called Sam, telling him everything he could about those who were close enough to have heard of the mines. After that, he got to work.

He assessed what all would need done in the next day and did as many small tasks as he could, staying up until he could greet the helpers on the way.

All Curtis wanted to do was sleep, this was taking a toll on him, but he did his best to not let it show, to not become a grump. He just put his head down and made himself useful while Bucky waited back at the mine. At the first available opportunity, he was going to drop into a bed and nap. This week was stretching him thin.

Meanwhile, you continued to work at the bar. After seeing him for several days in a row, it was concerning that Curtis seemingly fell off the face of the Earth. Surely that wasn’t your business, though. Maybe it was just a coincidence he was ordering food so often before. He had better places to be, like work, or maybe on a date.

Why would you care, though? He was just the nice guy fixing your car. There was no way he was going out of his way to visit; probably just had some late nights at the shop and that’s why he picked up dinner, not to see you. Anyway, work was always busy enough for your mind to be occupied. You’d at least see him again hopefully once that coveted car part came in.

After a much easier Saturday at the farm, Curtis was ready to have a nice, relaxing time at the bar. As the crew he came with went inside, he hung back to talk to Edgar. He clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

Edgar patted him back. “Good, I’m good. Been walking your girl home like you asked. She’s working tonight.” A smirk crept onto his face as Curtis looked down.

“But besides that, what’s going on with you?”

Curtis sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He turned a picture of Cole Turner towards Edgar.

“Um, I’m alright. A little stressed, but I’m hoping you can help. I’ve got something for you.”

Edgar looked up from the piece of paper. “What’s this?”

“Someone who we need to make sure stays out of here. And if you see him, you let me know, okay?”

Edgar nodded. “Sure thing. Have fun with your girl.”

Curtis rolled his eyes and walked through the door to catch up with everyone else.

You were pouring out drinks for the group that came in when a familiar tall, broad form approached from the doorway. You took in the way his shoulders pushed at the flannel fabric of his shirt as he sauntered into the room. You couldn’t help the way the smile already on your face grew to see him again.

“Oh hey, if it isn’t the big cheese.” He laughed at the nickname, shaking his head as he moved to take a seat at the bar.

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t been in for awhile. Had some family matters to attend to. Speaking of which, that’s them over there.” He gestured toward the group who had just ordered food and drinks from you before heading towards the booths on the far side of the room.

“Ah! Okay, in that case, this is for you.” You grabbed a short rocks glass from the lower counter in front of you and set it up on the bar top in front of Curtis. The glass made a small thud against the finished wood as you looked at him.

Curtis tentatively grabbed it and sipped. After swallowing he hummed.

“Sweet. Like a cherry.”

You nodded. “Oh yeah. That’s because it’s got extra cherries. Your buddies over there said you’d drink whatever, so I made you my favorite.”

Curtis lowered the glass and looked at you deeply with his warm, burning sapphire eyes. His voice grew low and raspy. “I wasn’t talking about the drink.”

He winked at you and you had no idea how your legs didn’t fail you right then. You were able to quickly recover, though, shooting a remark right back.

“Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll let you test that conjecture.” You could see his cheeks grow warm at the suggestive statement. You grabbed your rag and threw it over your shoulder, leaning closer to the towering man who was just confident, now evidently bashful.

“Curtis, are you…blushing?”

His eyebrows were quick to arch as his attempt of a scowl failed to break through past a shy smile. “No! Blushing is fake. It doesn’t exist. That’s just an old wives tale.”

You looked at his skeptically, not even attempting to hide the laugh that burst out. “What do you mean you think it’s fake? You’re so red right now.”

Curtis’s eyes shifted around the room, unsure of how to respond. “I just feel really…warm…when I look at you.” He muttered so low you could barely hear it.

You wanted to keep pushing before his embarrassment made him turn away from you.

“Hey listen, I’ll be back. I’ve gotta check in with the group, but keep this stool saved for me?”

You nodded. “Sure thing.”

As soon as Curtis returned, he was glued to his chair. He spent the entire evening chatting with you, asking about your life, and telling you about his on the farm and at the shop.

You were honestly grateful for the one bit of peace on a busy bar Saturday night. Every chance you got, you were leaning against the counter by him to take a breath, watching his friends ride the bull and dance together. What a group of great people.

“So, have you been able to make it home alright this week? I’m sorry that truck part still hasn’t come in yet.”

You nodded as you poured a line of shots for a group of girls waiting on the corner. “Yeah, it hasn’t really been a problem. Edgar’s been insistent on walking me to my door, which helps me feel better when it’s that dark out. Just makes me feel bad, though, because I think I finish a little later than his shift time is supposed to be.”

“Well that’s nice of him. If you want, I can drive you home tonight. Might take some of that load off if you’re worried.” Curtis’s eyes watched you slide the shots to the patrons as you came back to his seat and sighed.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you staying here later than you have to, either. It’s really okay. I can definitely take care of myself.”

Curtis shrugged. “I don’t doubt that at all, Cherry. But I’m offering. And I’d be a fool to prematurely end one of the best nights I’ve had in awhile. I really don’t mind.”

“Okay, then. Sounds like a plan.”

As the night was winding down, and Curtis’s group had already come over to close out the tab, the two of you watched the remaining people prepare to head out. Who was Curtis that he knew someone with a black card? Supposedly they were business associates of the farm. Was farming really that lucrative? You guessed so.

You rejoined the present as the last few slow songs came on the juke box and Curtis held out his hand.

“You know how to dance?”

You scoffed, “Curtis, I’m still working. But yes, do you think I could’ve gotten by all this time without a little bit of knowledge?”

He shook his head. “I would’ve been worried if you did. Come on, there’s hardly anyone left. Shuffle with me, you little Houston stranger.”

You sidestepped the bar and walked out the small half door to join Curtis on the dance floor, holding both his hands and looking up into his eyes. “I’d say we’re hardly strangers now. You don’t learn nothing after hours of talking like that.”

You began to swing to the twangy music, holding each other close. Curtis twirled you and pulled you into his chest where your ear could hear his racing heart. The warmth and the scent of his cologne were comforting. His arms blanketing you, shielding you from all other thoughts besides this moment. As the song faded out, you realized you two were the only ones left besides the other employees doing the final tidying up before shutting down for the night. You reluctantly pulled your body from Curtis, left only holding each other’s hands.

“I should probably go help with the closing duties. Can you wait for me by the door?”

Curtis nodded. “Of course. I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Curtis watched you go back to your cash register as he walked back towards Edgar, keeping an eye on you the whole time.

“So, anything interesting happen tonight?”

Edgar nodded with with wide eyes. “Um, yeah. That guy you gave me a picture of, he came by. Threw a fit when I wouldn’t let him in. Some dude in fancy clothes and a mustache was with him, too. Not sure what that was about, but they at least respected the badge.”

Curtis huffed and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

This was not good. Curtis pulled out his phone and texted Bucky.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Tbh, even I don’t know where this story is gonna go, but I love Curtis a lot and will need some time to find a niche plot that will do him some justice.

I hope you enjoyed. Comments, reblogs, and likes are sooooo appreciated.

[aflawedfashion]

The season 3 ending is actually perfect. I don't need season 4. They can take it back.

[julesnichols]

Silo & Snowpiercer (2020) Parallels

Dedicating this to @onetrainscifi because they gave me a lot of the ideas of scenes for this set, and were my biggest enabler!

[zithergiltscorner]

Me: Lesbians?

Snowpiercer: Lesbians.

[wedonthavemuchtime]

Snowpiercer (season 4, episode 5: The Engineer) / 2024 — IMDb, TMDb

[doyouknowthischaracter]

DO YOU KNOW THIS CHARACTER?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To Those Who Wait 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, virginity loss, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: You are tired of being the safe one so you decide to pay for some excitement.

Characters: escort!Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett

Note: yeah, I couldn’t resist.

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

Love you all like Tony loves himself. Take care. 💖

When you’re alone, you’re not free. You are imprisoned in a cell of your own making. Inside your own body. You’re the one who threw that key away so why do you care now? 

You do. You hate that you do. You hate that your phone won’t stop vibrating. And that you know exactly why. 

You turn your legs over the side of the bed. Your eyes catch on the sparkle on your nightstand. A gold chain that isn’t yours.

The small medallion has an R on it. What was that name he used? Ransom? Doesn’t sound like a name, at least not one you’d give to anything but a rambunctious dog. 

You open the drawer and shovel the necklace inside. You slam it shut as you stand. You need to get your shit together. First thing, coffee. 

You’ve never been an optimist but you’re grateful Hugh left without you asking. That he didn’t stick around to rub your nose in the mess your made. Speaking of mess. You’ll have to throw your bedding in the wash. Maybe It’s better to burn it. 

Coffee on, a trash bag in hand, you set to overhauling your life. The sheets aren’t the only thing going. Your phone vibrates. The phone call flashes as you ignore it. 

You go back to the bedroom. A faint trace of his cologne lingers. You peel back the corners of the mattress sheet and bunch the rest of the bedding inside. You sheath it in the black plastic and tie it in a knot. 

You drag it out to the garbage chute and shove it until it drops down. You close the door heavily and return to your apartment. You drink the bitter coffee, sweet compared to your current state. You glance t your bedroom door and heave. 

You won’t even bother trying to sleep in there. Just the thought makes you uneasy. He’s ruined your safe place just like he ruined everything else. 

🛏️

The days are gruelling. Before, you didn’t mind being alone. You accepted that sentence, made what you could of it. You had hobbies. Now you don’t have the energy for them. You don’t see the point in them. Just distractions that can’t change your reality. 

Work is the only thing you can focus on. Not because it’s better, because you have to. It’s not the best job but you pay your own bills. You don’t have to rely on someone else to survive. You have yourself. It’s all you’ve ever really had.

How stupid you were to think you could ever have anything else? That someone could ever really want to have you. 

Hugh doesn’t want you. You’re not stupid. He wants to get off. It’s an ego thing or some sick fucking kink. How many guys did you hear say that ‘ugly girls are the fucking best in bed’ or ‘you can make an ugly girl do anything’. 

On your lunch, Vivica calls you. You answer if only to keep another notification from piling up. 

“Sup?” You ask dully as you break a cracker and let it crumble. 

“Oh, you know, wondering why I haven’t heard from you.” 

“Work. Busy,” you answer. You wait for a response. You cringe and make yourself speak. “What about you? What’s going on?” 

“Worried about you,” she insists. “You hate work.” 

“Sure do but it’s not really optional,” you shrug. “How was your night out?” 

“Which one? You haven’t been around.” 

You sigh, “are you mad at me?” 

“No, like I said. Worried.” She clicks her tongue, “look, that guy Curtis, he told me you’re not answering him either.” 

“And who gave you permission to give him my number?” You challenge as your scalp bristles. 

“Why didn’t you tell us about him?” 

You roll your eyes. “Well, obviously, it’s not working out so... that’s why. Same old.” 

“Seems like it could work out if you gave him a chance. He sounded pretty interested.” 

“It’s my choice,” you retort defensively. “It’s not the right fit.” 

“Cool,” she says sharply. “Sorry if I’m nosy but you haven’t told us anything about it. Or him. Or whatever is going on with you.” 

You close your eyes as they sting. You’re annoyed. You don’t want to talk about. You’re dying just to stop thinking about it. 

“Viv, you’re a good friend but you can give it up already. I’m a fucking loser and guys just aren’t that into me,” you sniff. 

“So why would he be asking about you?” 

“Please. Don’t act like you don’t know. I mean, that was a great birthday present. Probably preferable to the real thing. And I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not,” you scoff. “And no one has to pretend for me. It works perfectly.” 

“Oh, that was... everyone has toys. It wasn’t meant to be anything but fun.” 

“Sure, give the loser virgin some silicone so she can loosen up,” you spit. “You know what, I gotta get back to work.” 

She hesitates to answer, “fine. That sounds like a good idea. You're sooo busy so don’t waste your time on me. Bye.” 

“Yeah, bye.” 

You pull the phone from your cheek and tap the end button. You dab under your eyes then lean your face into your hands. Stop it. Don't be so stupid.

It wasn’t anything at all. You and Curtis. And obviously, Vivica only wanted to poke around. She probably can’t stand the idea of not having a disaster like you around to make her feel better. 

You’re just fine. You’re okay. You’re better off alone. Better for everyone that way. 

💔

Your apartment is overcrowded with the fog left behind by his intrusion. You can’t escape the stain he left on your existence. No matter how you try.

The showers don’t work. Even the bottle of wine you bought in desperation only took you back to the night at the hotel. Sleep isn’t an escape when you can’t close your eyes for more than five minutes. It’s all just meaningless. 

Everything you do is a farce. Pointless. Wake up, for what? Go to work, for what? Come home? Home?! Is that what you call this fetid place? 

A week. A week of ignoring the phone and that tick in the back of your head. A week of hearing a knock at the door that isn’t real. Of seeing shadows that aren’t there. 

Another day at your desk. Alone, despite the cubicles that pen you in, the buzz of voices on headsets, the clacking of keys, the clicking and scrolling. The trance of your denial stretches on. Your mind is not connected to the rest of you. Your fingers type without thought and your voice rises according to a script you recite by rote. 

“Hm, do you think the single king is better or the double queen?” The woman on the phone asks. You let out a sigh without censor. It’s the sixth time she’s gone back and forth. Each time you change the reservation type, you have to enter all the other details again. 

“It’s up to you, ma’am,” you utter. 

“I’m just thinking if maybe one of us wants to stay out a bit longer...” she hums. 

“I don’t care,” you blurt out and cringe. 

“Pardon?” She huffs. 

“Sorry, ma’am, nothing. Someone else was talking to me--” 

“No, no, that was extremely rude.” 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, okay?” 

“Really, because you don’t sound very sorry,” she snaps. 

You aren’t. You stay quiet. Shit. 

“I would like a manager.” She sneers. 

“Of course,” you tap hold and transfer her through. No point being upset, there’s worse things in the world. You would know. 

You take off your headset. It’s almost the end of the day anyway. You get up and refill your bottle at the fountain. There’s little expediency in your task. You’ll do one more call then clock out. 

As you return to your desk, Mallory approaches. You look up as she flips up her cat-eye glasses. You already know what she’s here about. 

“Would you like to come back and get your write-up or should I just email it over?” She asks sharply. 

You don’t care. You’ll take the flag. After five years of working there and not a blemish on your record, what’s one? You shrug. 

“Whatever works is fine with me.” 

She narrows her eyes, “problem?” 

“Nope,” you put your headset on. “Phone’s ringing.” 

You tap the answer button and swivel away from her. She puffs and stomps and walks away. You go through the usual, this time navigating the booking without issue. It’s a lot easier when people know what they want. 

You save the reservation and sign off. You just want to go to the apartment and shut your brain off. You can’t keep wondering when and if this ever stops.  

You pull on your jacket and hike up your bag. You skip the elevator and take the stairs, not wanting to bear the tedious elevator ride with people you only know by obligation. You stride out the doors ahead of a straggling group but your escape from the corporate purgatory doesn’t free you. 

You put your head down and turn along the street. You don’t get far before you hear your name. At first, you ignore it, certain that you misheard. When it comes again in that familiar voice, you groan and stop. You face Curtis reluctantly. 

“Oh, hi,” you utter dryly. 

“Yeah, hi,” he matches your tone. “You know, I’ve been texting. Calling.” 

“I’ve been busy. Work.” Your eyes stray without meaning to. 

“Is that it? Work? I’ve been worried. You couldn’t just send a courtesy text?” 

You shake your head and shrug. You can’t look at him. Then you have to face everything. 

“What did I do?” He steps closer and you back up. You roll your eyes as they burn and gesture apathetically. 

“Nothing.” 

He sighs, “I thought we were going good. I thought—I don’t get it. I don’t get you.” 

“Ha, alright,” you scoff. “Why on earth would you want to be with me?” 

“Huh?” 

“Oh, come on. Clearly, I’m a fucking loser. So, what was it? You wanted to fuck the virgin and go back and brag to all your buddies?” You sneer and stare past his shoulder. 

“No, that never mattered to me. Guess you think I’m the loser,” he retorts. 

You shrug again. 

“What is your problem? What the hell?” He gets even closer. “Something... something happened.” 

“Nothing happened,” you try to look at him and wince. You’re going to be sick if you do. “I’m not even a virgin so... big loss.” 

“That’s not--” he sputters. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

“No--” 

“Don’t say nothing--” 

“Nothing,” you snarl and step back. “You don’t want to be with me and I’m not going to pretend.” 

You spin and go to march forward. You stop short before you can race away. Curtis rams into your back as he goes to follow. He grabs your arms lightly as he steps back. You stare dumbly at the figure strutting toward you. 

Hugh smirks as he waves and you pull away from Curtis. You turn toward the street and stumble back as a car honks, coming close to the curb as you do. You’re yanked back again, this time harder. 

“Christ, you’re going to get hurt--” Curtis says, his voice overridden by another. 

Hugh whistles and calls your name again, “hey, baby.” 

You close your eyes as you try to hide from reality. Your feet won’t move, or your arms. You stand there, shaking as his footsteps echo over the sidewalk. Curtis lets you go. 

“Oh,” he utters. 

“Hey, where ya going?” You’re grabbed from the other side and you wrench away from Hugh, spinning to face both of them as your eyes snap open. 

“Right,” Curtis says grimly. You finally look at him as his eyes scale the other man. 

“Who’s this?” Hugh asks as he reaches for you again. 

“No, go away. Both of you.” 

“Ah, come on, baby, haven’t seen you since the weekend. That was lots of fun,” he winks. “Late night.” 

Curtis shifts and tilts his head. He glares at Hugh as his hands furl and unfurl. Your legs quake dangerously. 

“I said go,” you hiss. 

“I think you owe us an explanation,” Curtis says evenly. His cadence is worse than anger, it’s hurt. 

“I can explain but not with him here.” 

“You’ll talk now that you’ve been caught, huh?” He looks at you and you recoil. 

“Never mind,” you say. “Whatever you think it is, that’s what it is.” 

He stares at you, his chest rising and falling. 

“Oh, yeah, we’re fuck buddies,” Hugh interjects. “She gets bored and well, I can’t say no. She's feral. She begs me--” 

“Shut up!” You bark at him. 

“I mean, I’m not complaining. It’s an open sorta deal but seems like maybe there’s a few things she didn’t mention to you, pal,” he continues. 

“He’s not--” you turn back to Curtis, “he’s not that. He isn’t. He’s a mistake.” 

“Oh, a mistake? Was I a mistake when you were cumming all over me--” 

You spin and shove him as hard as you can. “Fuck off!”  

He grabs your arms and you wrestle with him. You stagger around under his strength before you’re nearly bowled over completely. Curtis jabs him in the chest and inserts himself between the two of you. You rub your forearm as you stare at his back. 

“She said go.” 

“To you,” Hugh scoffs. 

“No, you. Get out of here,” he squares his shoulders. 

“I’m not afraid of you. I mean, it’s pretty fucking pathetic to defend that slut after she--” 

Curtis doesn’t hesitate. His arm cocks and swings so quickly, you don’t realise what happened until the crack and the other man’s grunt. Hugh retreats as you look around Curtis. He cradles his jaw as you stay hidden behind the other. 

“Don’t fucking call her that.” He growls. 

“Fucking simp,” Hugh spits blood onto the sidewalk. “You really gonna be cucked like that? When I had her on my dick like a glove--” 

You notice the crowd gathering near the front of the building. You recognise a few of your coworkers. As Curtis steps forward, you catch his arm. 

“Please, he’s not worth it.” 

“You are,” Curtis insists. 

“Curtis,” you squeeze his sleeve. You don’t want him to get hurt by you. Not more than he already is. “I’ll tell you everything. Please.” 

He takes a breath and lets it out slow. Hugh straightens and pinches his nose, “I’d kick your fucking ass if I wasn’t wearing prada,” he keeps his head back and turns away, “prick.” He stops and glances back, “don’t worry, baby. You’ll see me around... you’ll feel me.” 

Curtis sways as if he might go after him but thinks better of it. You let him go and wring the strap of your bag as you watch him. You're hollow. You don’t think you can tell him everything. 

“Tell me then,” he throws an arm out and turns to you. 

“I...” you look around. “Not here.” 

His jaw grits and he exhales heavily, “fine, where?” 

“Uh... we could... there’s a juice place nearby. It’s never busy.” 

“Sure,” he pushes his shoulders up. 

You look down and turn away. You’re melting in horror. He hates you. You feel it roiling off of him. Your only hope is that he hasn’t walked away. Not yet. He could’ve made this easier and just not have shown up at all. 

You enter the juice bar. “I’ll get something so they don’t kick us out.” 

He sniffs and sidles past you. He goes to the table in the corner. You go up to the counter. The employees are chattering in the lull. You pay for a bottled kombucha then retreat to the table. 

You climb up on the seat. He stares past you at the window. His fingers tap on the table. Your lips part and his gaze darts over to you. 

“Well?” He growls. 

You shudder. How do you say it? Don’t explain, just say it. Once he knows, it won’t matter what excuses you have. He’ll go and you’ll be left with a bottle of fermented juice you don’t even like. Maybe this is how it gets better. Just end it. 

“He’s a prostitute.” 

He twitches and narrows his eyes, “what?” 

“Hugh, that guy. I hired him to fuck me.” You say it a bit too plainly and grimace. “Look, I was... the first time was before me and you... but I...” your eyes burn and you flick them to the ceiling. “I don’t know why I’m even trying to save anything. I was desperate. For anything. I went online, I found an escort, and I paid half my savings for the worst night of my life.” 

“First time?” He plucks out the words. There’s the twist of the dagger. 

“He showed up again. I... I’m not going to relive it just so you can ditch me so, please, that’s all you need to know. I’m a sad little woman who paid to get rid of her virginity. At thirty years old. Yeah, yeah, that’s why I know you don’t want to be with me.” 

You look at the table, hoping you might become a part of it. That you’ll fade into the air and be nothing. Feel nothing. He’s quiet. The low murmur of music grows to a cacophony as you await the inevitable. 

“You didn’t want to?” He asks at last. 

You rub your cheek, eyes glued to the table. “I did it, that’s what matters.” 

“You didn’t tell me.” 

“What-- what was I supposed to say?” 

“Anything. Something. You could’ve just answered me,” he reaches across the table, past the bottle of unwanted kombucha. Like you, dejected and disgusting. “Hey...” 

“I have the texts. And I can show you the deposit, if you really don’t think I’m that stupid,” you plunge your hand into your bag as you talk. You take it out and tap around. 

“Look at me,” he pleads. 

“Really, it’s right here--” you flick your thumbs and open WhatsApp, “the messages—wait? No. My account...” you thumb around and drag down the menu from the top. You search your notifications. ‘Account Deleted due to misuse report’. No... 

“It’s gone,” you drop your phone on the table. “I have no proof--” 

“I said look at me,” he repeats, grittier than before. 

You quiver and make yourself obey. You look at him as he leans to reach further across, “I believe you.” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you? Look at me. I have to pay for it--” 

“Stop,” he commands. “I want you to stop that. Now.” 

“It’s true--” 

“I don’t care about him. About a stupid mistake. Shit happens. I’ve made mistakes too,” he wiggles his hand. “If I didn’t like you, do you think I’d be here?” 

You peek down at his hand. His knuckles are bruised. You frown and daintily touch his fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“He deserved it,” he turns his hand and clasps onto yours. “Want me to kill him?” 

You look at him again and furrow your brow, “stop, I don’t feel like laughing.” 

His expression is grey. Serious. For a moment, you really think he means it. Then he squeezes your hand and his face eases. 

“I had to try,” he mutters. 

You don’t know what to do. You’re entirely unprepared for this. You didn’t expect to see him again, let alone for him to just forgive you for ignoring him, lying to him, or for just being you. 

“You wanna come over?” He asks. 

“Oh, um... I don’t know.” 

“I hope you don’t think I’m like him. I’m not asking for that. I think you maybe you shouldn’t go home,” he explains. “Not after—he seems like the type to hold a grudge, doesn’t he?” 

“Uh, oh, yeah.” 

He's right. Hugh came back after he got his money. Why wouldn't he show up again?

“And we don’t have to watch scary movies. Maybe something less... anxiety-inducing for now,” he offers. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you breathe as the weight slightly lifts from your chest. Is this how it goes? Do people just work things out? 

“But I wouldn’t mind a little bit of cuddling...” he looks around evasively, “if you can keep it secret.” 

You smile. For the first time since you last saw him. “Oh, I’m great at secrets, aren’t I?” 

“As long as that’s the only one you keep,” he replies, his tone hanging ominously over you. You can’t quite tell if it’s a joke or a threat. 

🩶

Curtis takes you back to your apartment. He waits at the door, his paranoia feeding your own. Does he really think Hugh would come back that soon? Yet, what has he done to make you think otherwise? The fact he came back at all is scary on its own. 

You grab only a few things. Something to sleep in and an outfit for the next day, along with your phone charger and a few necessities to keep yourself human. You don’t look back as you leave. You’re happy to be away, if only for a while. 

At his place, you’re restless. You don’t want to be. You’re exhausted. The days filled with anticipation of the world shattering around has turned to the fatigue of fallout.  

“You good?” He asks as he drags his palm over his stubbly hair. 

“Good,” you lie. 

“He can’t get you here.” 

You nod and hum. 

“But that’s not what you’re worried about,” he says. 

“Why... not to sound ungrateful but why... why?” 

“You know, a lot of guys might get tired of having to repeat themselves but if I gotta tell ya every day how much I like you, so be it. As long as you’re there to hear it.” 

You nudge him without thinking and he tilts his head. 

“Sorry, it’s just... you don’t look like the cheesy type.” 

“Not cheesy. Honest.” 

That word stings. It could be nothing but it almost feels like a lash. You weren’t. You lied. You ran away. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” you turn away. 

“You don’t gotta. I’m just... checking. You hungry? I could get us some pizza.” 

“Oh,” you think about it but not very long as your stomach growls. You can’t remember if you had anything but coffee. 

“Is that a yes? What do you like? Anchovies girl, I know it.” 

You scrunch up your face and he snorts, “I don’t know what’s sexier,” he drawls. “Your smile or the way you look when you’re annoyed.” 

You roll your eyes, “stop.” 

“Stop what?” 

“I’m not... sexy,” you look away. 

“You are,” he insists. 

“No... I...” 

“Let’s see; eyes, gorgeous. Lips, delicious, and the way your booty kinda...” he traces with his fingers and your cheeks set alight. 

“Curtis,” you gasp. 

“A guy can’t help but notice. I also love a thrill and you scare me. Just a little,” he smirks. “So, toppings? Not anchovies.” 

“Hot peppers and whatever you like.” 

“Spicy. I knew it,” he proclaims. 

“Ugh, stop being so lame,” you chirp. 

“You first,” he throws back. “Go, get cozy. I’ll order.” 

You nod and give a sheepish smile, or an attempt at one. You take your bag into the front room and take out your pajamas. You go into the bathroom and lock yourself in. You sit on the edge of the tub and try to set yourself straight. 

There’s a glimmer of disbelief in you. It’s too good to be true. Did you really find a good one? 

You change as his voice drones from the other side of the door then quiets. You can’t shake that uneasiness that keeps you precarious. You still can’t trust that it won’t all break. 

You come out with your clothes under your arm, sure not to make too much noise. You tiptoe down and peek into the front room. Curtis stands with his back to you, by the chair where you left your bag. You creep up behind him and lean to see what he’s doing. 

At first you assume it’s his phone but the charm on the phone case assures you otherwise. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

He doesn’t startle. He merely faces you and clutches the phone tight. His knuckles strain and you look between his eyes and the cell. 

“Curtis?” 

“He’s texting you again.” 

“How? He deleted the conversation,” you try to see the phone and he holds it away from you. “Hey, give me the phone--” 

“Burner, I bet,” he backs away and puts his attention back to the screen. “Oldest trick in the book.” 

“Just block the number,” you say as you follow but he stays beyond your grasp. “Turn the phone off. It’s not--” 

“You have to promise,” he rears on you and you stagger. 

“Promise?” 

“To tell me. If, when he messages or calls or anything. I have to know.” 

“You don’t think—I don’t want him around.” 

“I know you don’t. I want to keep him away.” He insists. 

“Right, but--” 

“And you did lie to me. If I didn’t find out today, what’s to say he didn’t hurt you? If you really don’t want him around, it sounds like maybe you’re scared of him. Like he did more than you’re telling me--” 

“Curtis, I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” you swallow. 

“Neither do I. Do you think I like it? Thinking about you with someone else?” 

You whimper, “I thought... I thought... it was okay.” 

“I’m not...” he scratches his jaw, the friction coarse and loud. “I’m trying to help. I’m trying to move forward and if we’re going to do that, he can’t be around. Ever. And you can’t lie. That includes not telling me things.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, I...” you avert your eyes guiltily. “I’ll never forgive myself.” 

He exhales and lowers the phone. He comes closer and holds it out to you. You take it without looking at him. 

“No, I’m sorry. I just... I got worked up when I saw what he sent.” He opens his arms, “come here.” 

He pulls you against him, your head on his shoulder. He holds you like that. You shiver against him. 

“What did he send?” You croak. 

“I’m sure you can guess the kind of nasty things he said,” he pets your head. “I got rid of it. And if he shows his face, I’ll get rid of him too.” 

You wrap your arms around him but find little comfort in his embrace. Something about his tone unsettles you. Get rid of him... He sounds like he means it. Like more than just blocking his number. How well do you really know him? 

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Backwoods AU

A Special Sort of Craving (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

The Detour (Thor, MCU)

The Stranger (Chris, Destroyer)

Forget-Me-Not (Loki, MCU)

The Farmer’s Daughter (Walter Marshall, Night Hunter)

The Rebound (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

Second Best (Lee Bodecker, The Devil All the Time)

Crossed Wires (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob & Cole Turner, Ghosted)

Daddy Lesson (Rafe Cameron, OBX, Outer Banks)

All Things End (Arvin Russell, The Devil All the Time)

THTH (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

Called To Duty (Captain Syverson, Sand Castle)

Unmanageable (Pete Brenner, Pain Hustlers)

A Place in the Sun (Nick Fowler, The 355)

[vildo]

Where’s the Wilford salute emoji when you need one

[catscoffeeandmarlboros]

RUTH RUTH RUTH