#Curtis Everett x You

[krirebr]

Luck Be a Lady

Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader

Word Count: ~10.1k

Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?

Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Masterlist

A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂

This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!

And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.

“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”

You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.

Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.

“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”

“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.

The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”

Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 

Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 

As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 

You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 

You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.

“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 

“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.

The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.

You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.

He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”

You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 

“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 

You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???

You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.

“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 

You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.

Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.

You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.

“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”

This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.

Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”

Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.

“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”

“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.

But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.

As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.

You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 

You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”

You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.

The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.

“Bambi?” you ask.

He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.

You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.

You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn���t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??

Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.

Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.

And you’re making so much money.

In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.

And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 

And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.

But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.

She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”

You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”

He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”

You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”

“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 

“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.

You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.

Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 

Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”

You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”

Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”

Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”

You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.

At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 

Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.

His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”

You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 

You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.

Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 

It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.

It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.

He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.

“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 

Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.

“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 

Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.

You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?

He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”

“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.

Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.

It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 

You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.

After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.

You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”

A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”

It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”

“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 

He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.

“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 

You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 

“Someone touched you?”

“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”

His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.

You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 

“Tell me who it was.”

“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 

He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”

“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”

“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”

You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.

At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”

Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”

“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 

You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 

He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”

You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 

He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”

You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”

“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”

You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 

Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”

You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 

You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.

The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 

As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”

“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”

“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.

You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 

He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.

Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 

You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.

Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.

You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 

Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”

His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”

“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”

Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”

You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 

You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”

“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”

You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.

He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 

You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.

“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”

Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”

“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 

Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.

Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.

“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”

You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.

You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”

You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 

Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”

Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”

Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?

Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 

The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.

Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”

Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”

Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.

As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”

You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 

While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 

The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.

You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.

Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 

You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.

When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.

You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”

“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.

It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 

He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”

“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 

He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.

“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.

To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”

He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”

 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  

There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.

Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.

You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 

A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.

It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.

It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.

Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.

Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 

You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?

You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.

You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.

Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.

Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.

You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 

You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”

He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.

Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”

“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”

It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.

“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 

It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.

“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”

“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”

He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”

You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”

Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”

His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 

Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.

You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.

He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”

“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.

He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.

He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.

You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”

He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”

You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 

He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 

As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.

“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 

“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 

“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 

He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.

You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 

You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.

You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.

You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.

You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 

As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 

You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.

“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”

You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”

His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”

You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”

“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.

You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”

“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.

“What?”

“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”

Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??

He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”

Tag list

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[witchywithwhiskey]

a gift for the bar owner

pairings: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader, soft!dark bar owner!curtis everett x female reader

summary: for curtis's birthday, ari gives you to him for the night.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, intoxication, rough sex, oral object insertion (f receiving), masturbation (m), cumshot, exhibitionism, sadism/masochism, painplay, rough body play, biting, free use, heavy objectification, heavy degradation, humiliation kink, salirophilia (kink for ruining someone's appearance/dirtying them up), somnophilia, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink (only with ari), pet names (bambi, baby, kiddo), possessive behavior, aftercare, a couple mean hot men—let me know if i missed anything!!!

word count: 7.9k

a/n: ok so i have no excuse for this except i saw a gif of a girl getting wine poured over her face/chest and i wondered who of my characters would do that. and apparently the answer is dive bar owner curtis. so here we are. also please note that this little fic takes place after the chapter of trucker king where curtis and lloyd will be properly introduced so no, you're not supposed to know what exactly reader's tattoo is and yes, i will be revealing that in due time.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

Since Curtis Everett was one of Ari Levinson’s oldest friends—and one of the few people he trusted—your trucker decided that the perfect gift to give his friend for his birthday was you. A whole night where you were nothing more than Curtis’s free use fuck toy. 

The only condition was that Curtis had to follow the same rules Ari had set the last time he’d let his friend use you—no kissing, no permanent marks, and no coming inside you. Curtis had quickly agreed, and the plans were set.

Ari hadn’t asked you whether you wanted to be gifted to Curtis for his birthday, but you still thought it was a great idea. 

After all, Curtis worked so hard running Everett’s Roadhouse, the dive bar just off the highway that was frequented by Ari and plenty of other truckers, and he deserved a night of having his own personal fuck toy to use however he wanted. It was his birthday, and he didn’t have a girl of his own, so you didn’t mind stepping in for the night.

In fact, after the evening you’d spent with Curtis and Ari’s other oldest friend, Lloyd Hansen—when your trucker had given them permission to use you however they wanted in exchange for some favors—you were excited to be Curtis’s birthday gift. You’d liked the big, grumbling bar owner, and you wanted to make his birthday special. 

As part of his gift, Ari had let Curtis pick out what you’d wear. So you strolled into Everett’s Roadhouse on the night of Curtis’s birthday wearing the sweetest little sundress you owned—and nothing else besides the shoes on your feet. 

The dress was a bright white cotton with little flowers dotted all over it, and short enough to swirl around your upper thighs. The sweet little garment was at odds with your surroundings in the dive bar, which were grimy and dirty, lit by dim lightbulbs and flickering neon beer signs. It made you stand out immediately.

As soon as you entered the bar, every man in the establishment turned to look at you, their gazes ranging from drunken interest to greedy hunger. Even with Ari at your side, his posessive hand on your lower back, they couldn’t seem to drag their covetous eyes away from you, like you were an oasis in the desert.  

It took you a moment to understand the attention, but when you did, a delicious tremor of excitement raced down your spine—you were the only woman in the whole building. The bar was closed for Curtis’s private party, and the only people in attendance were his friends, who were all rough-looking men that you presumed were mostly truckers or old friends like Ari. 

You wondered, not for the first time since Ari had told you his plans for his friend’s birthday, what exactly Curtis would do with you. You knew Ari’s rules would save you from anything too unpleasant, but there was so much they didn’t cover. The possibilities of how Curtis might use you made your pussy tingle with anticipation.

Ari’s hand was firm on your lower back as he guided you further into the bar, your wedge sandals sticking slightly to the filthy wooden floors of the roadhouse. The gazes of all the men you walked past slid over your bare skin like oil, the sensation settling heavily between your thighs, where a sensual warmth bloomed. 

That warmth only grew the closer you got to Curtis, who stood half a head taller than any man in the bar. The imposing bear of a man was leaning against the bartop, talking with someone about something, his broad shoulders and thick biceps stretching the limits of his black t-shirt. Curtis’s blue eyes were bright in the dingy lights of the bar, contrasting against his pale skin, dark beard and shorn hair. 

When you finally arrived at the circle of men gathered around Curtis, Ari gave you a shove through the crowd and you stumbled toward the bar owner. It was only when Curtis fumbled to catch you in his arms—the stench of beer thick on his breath—that you realized he was already so drunk, he could barely stand, and that was why he’d been leaning against the bar. 

“Hey there, bambi,” he slurred, his arms loosely circling your waist. His hands slid down to grope your ass, but Curtis must’ve forgotten he was still holding a beer, because you felt it tip. A second later, cold liquid spilled over the plush curves of your ass.

Instinctively, you squealed his name, “Curtis!” The cold beer was running down the valley between your cheeks, making you squirm in his arms. You tried to get away from the spilling liquid, but you ended up pressing closer to Curtis’s massive, burly chest, practically climbing the tall man with your fingers fisting in his t-shirt and your body plastering to his.

Thankfully, Curtis didn’t mind in the least. He managed to right his beer and chuckled, looking down at you fondly, his mouth curled in a devastating smirk even as his eyes were hazy with drink. The alcohol seemed to have softened Curtis’s rough edges, and he appeared almost warm—nothing like the grumbling man you’d met previously.

“Damn, bambi, ya just got here,” he said, loud enough for the men closest to him to hear. “And yer already trying to jump on my dick like some kind of slut, huh?” He chuckled darkly and his friends joined in, making heat creep up your neck and fill your cheeks. 

But you didn’t deny it.

Instead, you recovered yourself quickly, forgetting the beer still plastering your dress to your ass and pressed closer to Curtis. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your tits against his broad chest, you enjoyed the way his eyes dipped lazily down to your low-cut neckline. 

“I’m yours for the night, big man,” you purred, your body warming and responding to being pressed so tight against Curtis’s muscled chest. It wasn’t difficult to let a seductive smile curl your lips. “You can do anything you want with me.” 

A grin spread slowly across Curtis’s face, the expression lecherous on his handsome features as he leered down at you. 

Before he responded, though, his gaze shifted over your shoulder, and he gave a quick nod. You knew without looking the gesture was meant for Ari—an acknowledgement that Curtis remembered your trucker’s rules and understood he couldn’t do anything. But close enough. 

Curtis’s free hand groped your ass hard as he turned to the crowd, taking a swig of his beer before calling out to his friends.

“Didja hear that fellas?” he crowed, his excited energy riling up the throng of men, all of whom seemed to be as drunk or drunker than Curtis. “Ari’s little cock slut said I get to do anything I want with her tonight!” 

A cheer rose up from the crowd, men all around you raising their glasses in the air while they yelled so loud it felt like a physical cloud of excitement. The energy was infectious, an eager grin curving your lips as you looked around at all the truckers and degenerates who were celebrating your objectification as a free use fuck toy.

Out of curiosity, you turned to look for Ari among them. You found your trucker standing still and quiet, watching you, a glass of amber liquid in one hand. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he wore a devious little smirk on his face that had your body warming with arousal. Even though he wasn’t joining in on the deafening cheer, you knew he was just as excited by the prospect of seeing you used by Curtis as everyone else.

Before Ari could direct you to look back at Curtis, the big man you were plastered against got your attention with his next words, shouted to the crowd.

Curtis had waited until the cheering died down a little to ask, “So what should I do with her first?”  

Obscene suggestions were hurled at you and Curtis, men’s voices blending into a cacophony of depravity. The things the crowd wanted Curtis to do to you ranged so wildly from nearly tame to absolutely vile that it made your head spin. Ari’s rules would prevent the worst of the suggestions, but not everything that Curtis’s friends were calling out, and you wondered with a twisted shiver of excitement what your trucker’s friend would pick to do to you.

“POUR YOUR BEER ON HER!”

Curtis’s whole body turned to the voice that had called out that last suggestion, dragging you along with him since your arms were still looped around his neck, his hand still holding your ass. Curtis pointed at his friend with his beer, some of it sloshing onto the floor with the fervor of the gesture.

“Now that’s an idea,” he shouted to the man in the crowd you couldn’t see. Curtis tipped his beer in his friend’s direction then took a swig. He looked down at where you were still pressed against his chest, your body hanging from where your arms were holding onto him. “Get on your knees, bambi.” His voice was rolling thunder, so deep and dark, it sent tiny, pleasurable zaps of lightning through your nervous system. 

The speed with which you detached yourself from Curtis and dropped to your knees had the men all around you whistling in appreciation. You heard more than a few of them mutter things like, “What a good, well-trained slut,” and “Gotta get me a girl like that.”

You preened and beamed with pride at the praise, finding Ari in the crowd again and hoping your behavior reflected well on him. He’d been the one to train you to follow orders so well, after all.

Your trucker gave you a small nod of recognition that made happiness burst in your chest, and you turned back to Curtis with a happy bounce of your hips. You couldn’t help but notice the low groans that came as a result of the little movement and you smiled wider.

The wooden floor was sticky beneath your bare knees, but you paid it no mind. You suspected—and you’d turn out to be right—that you’d be dirtier and filthier than even the floor of Everett’s Roadhouse before the night was through. The excitement you felt made you bounce again, making your sweet little sundress flutter around your thighs.

Curtis’s eyes watched the hem of your dress hungrily, seemingly distracted by the movement until he shook himself and remembered what he was doing. Raising his beer, Curtis let the crowd cheer for a moment while you waited with anticipation. From your spot on the floor, Curtis looked even bigger and more intimidating, which made something low in your belly quiver with excitement, heat gathering between your thighs as your thoughts skated away.

A growled question from your trucker’s friend brought you back to the moment.

“Ya ready, bambi?” 

Your hands were laying lightly on your thighs, your knees spread on the floor. You were more than ready, and at Curtis’s question, you tossed your head back and pushed your tits out, giving him a challenging smirk as you purred, “Gimme what ya got, big man.”

A half feral grin spread across Curtis’s face, and then he was tipping his bottle toward you, cold beer splashing over your face mere seconds after you shut your eyes. The pungent liquid rolled down your cheeks and slid down your neck, soaking the front of your white dress. 

You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, the white cotton no doubt becoming see-through as it was soaked in beer. Your nipples puckered and hardened against the flimsy material, putting on a show for Curtis and the crowd of men around you.

The bar owner emptied the bottle over your face and the front of your body, the beer getting in your mouth and nose, rivulets streaming down over your tits and between your spread thighs. It dripped to the floor beneath you, creating a small puddle on the sticky wooden boards. 

All around you, men cheered loudly and lewdly, urging Curtis to degrade you as the filthy slut you were. You grinned at the attention, loving every second of it and knowing that the men were only allowed to witness what Curtis was doing because Ari allowed it. Because Ari had given you to his friend for his birthday, and this was what Curtis had decided to do with you.

When the beer stopped flowing, you fluttered your eyes open, blinking the alcohol from your vision as you stared up into Curtis’s darkened blue eyes. You knew you must look a mess. You’d worn makeup that wouldn’t hold up to such an onslaught, and you had no doubt that your black mascara was streaming down your cheeks and adding to the wreckage of your face. But the way Curtis looked at you made you think he liked it—a lot.

“Edgar, gimme another beer!” Curtis called, keeping his gaze locked on you, his blue eyes dipping down to take in the sight of your beer-stained dress. 

The slip of fabric was sticking to your skin and it had become see-through where it had gotten wet. But it wasn’t drenched yet, and you could tell from the glint in Curtis’s eye that he wouldn’t stop until it bared you entirely. Excitement fizzed through you, and you bounced your hips while you waited impatiently for Curtis’s command to be met.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the bartenders open a new bottle of beer and pass it into Curtis’s big, waiting hand. Neither you nor the bar owner took your eyes off each other, and it made the moment all the more intense. For all that you had an audience to your degradation, in that moment, you were there for Curtis, and only Curtis. You were his, if only temporarily, and he seemed to relish that knowledge just as much as you did.

“Ya thirsty, bambi?” he asked, some of the drunken slurring leeching out of his tone as he grinned lecherously down at you. His gaze broke away from you and he looked around at the men gathered close but not touching you, his eyes sparkling with depravity when he met yours again. “Ya want some more?’

Your heart was racing with excitement, the awareness of having so many men watching you thrumming deliciously beneath your skin; you couldn’t help the way your hips bounced with eagerness as you nodded quickly. “Yes, please,” you said sweetly, biting your lip to stop from grinning too wide up at your trucker’s friend.

Curtis’s eyes darkened with sinful intent and you felt yourself growing wet. But the dampness between your thighs had nothing to do with the beer Curtis had poured on you, and everything to do with the fact that you were so turned on by the way he was treating you. And all the while, you could feel your trucker’s eyes on you, a reminder that you were Ari’s and he’d given you to Curtis as a gift. 

“Stick your tongue out,” Curtis rumbled, a thread of steel in his voice that made you shiver. In that moment, he reminded you of the grumbling man you’d met when Ari first introduced you to his friends, and you realized you’d missed that side of him. “Show all my friends what a good little slut you are.”

If you could’ve followed the order and smiled at the same time, you would’ve. Instead, you had to settle for submitting to Curtis’s command, sticking your tongue out as far as possible and tipping your head back, letting him see down your throat.

It was an invitation for him to give you more, to give you all he had, and the entire bar knew it. The men surrounding you roared their approval while Curtis offered you a pleased little smirk. It was the nicest he’d ever looked and it nearly made you smile, but you held your position.

“That’s it, open wide, slut,” Curtis encouraged in a low, roughened voice, depraved delight sparking in his blue gaze as he degraded you on the floor of his bar.

The look in his eye and the tenor of his tone made you quiver. Your pussy throbbed more insistently with need the longer you stayed on your knees and submitted to the degradation the bar owner offered. But you channeled that desire into opening your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out a little bit further, catching the approving smirk that flickered at the corners of Curtis’s mouth.

The bar owner nodded at you, took a sip of his new beer, and then, with no other preamble, he tipped the brown bottle over your face, showering you in the bitter liquid. 

With your lips open and tongue out, plenty of the beer splashed into your mouth and you swallowed it down as best you could. Despite your best efforts, you choked and gagged a little, tears slipping from your eyes to join the rest of the mess on your face as you endured Curtis’s treatment.

The men in the crowd jeered as you struggled beneath the degrading pour of Curtis’s beer, but he shifted his hand, the cold liquid moving to pour down the front of your body. The stream seemed endless and you could feel the beer soaking into your dress until the entire front of the garment was drenched.

By the time the bottle was empty, you felt half drowned, gulping down air as the beer you’d swallowed sloshed around in your belly. Your head was a little dizzy, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the lack of air, but you swayed a little on your knees, glancing down to find that the entire front of your dress was see-through, your tits and puckered nipples on full display for everyone to see.

At the sight of yourself, your pussy throbbed, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing as desire blazed through your body. When you looked up at Curtis, you were certain he could see your arousal in every line of your expression, and he smirked, the expression sharp on his handsome face.

“Y’know, bambi, your dress is a little dirty,” Curtis rumbled, as if he hadn’t been the one to sully it in the first place. But you didn’t care about that, you only cared about the anticipation building in your body. You knew Curtis was leading somewhere and you couldn’t wait for him to get there. “I can’t let you walk around my bar like that, dripping beer everywhere.” 

It escaped no one that Curtis’s dive bar was plenty dirty already and a few drops of beer wouldn’t make it much worse, but a cheer rose from the crowd as they caught on to the fact that Curtis was planning something. You bounced slightly on your knees, pouting up at the bar owner and trying to look abashed, biting your lip against a grin. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, big man?” you asked sweetly. 

Curtis gave you a half-feral grin, the expression more snarl than anything else, and it was your only warning. 

Faster than you would’ve thought possible for the big, drunk man, Curtis stooped down and slipped his hands into the neck of your dress, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. You let out a quiet little moan that you were certain only Curtis could hear, making him pause for a brief second, his eyes fluttering closed. But then his hands were moving again, yanking on your dress.

In a split second, Curtis ripped your dress right down the center. You gasped loudly as your tits were bared to the crowd of men in the bar, the sound loud in the moment of stunned silence. Your breasts bounced free of their confines, your nipples hardening and revealing to the whole room how much you were enjoying Curtis’s rough treatment.

The cheer that broke out at your nakedness was so loud, it made your ears ring. It also drowned out the sound of rending fabric as Curtis tore the shredded garment from your body, flinging it into the crowd. His eyes were heavy as they trailed down your body, your skin prickling everywhere he looked—your nipples tightening into desperate peaks and your pussy weeping from where it was nestled between your parted thighs.

Curtis’s eyes flared at the sight of the tattoo just above your slit, a reminder of who you belonged to. But you hoped it also reminded Curtis of the first night you’d met him—the night Ari had given you to both Curtis and Lloyd to use how they wanted. Your pussy dripped at the memory, and it seemed Curtis was just as affected, the big man pausing for a moment before he shook himself. 

“That’s better,” Curtis muttered, his gaze lingering on your weeping pussy like he wanted to bury his bearded face against your soft cunt. Instead, he dragged his eyes back up your body, the blue of his irises darkened to the color of the midnight sky as he murmured for your ears only, “Look so fucking pretty, bambi.”

You smiled and ducked your head at the compliment, which meant more to you than the obscene catcalls and lewd cries from the crowd around you. It was a reminder of the friendship that you and Curtis shared. You may have met because he was one of your trucker’s oldest friends, but you hoped Curtis knew you thought of him as your friend too.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at the bar owner from under your lashes. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Something resembling a grin curved the edges of Curtis’s mouth, the expression nearly hidden in his beard. His eyes slid away and looked up, and you knew without having to check that he was looking at Ari again. Before you could discern what the glance meant, though, Curtis was chucking you under the chin and saying, “I am, thanks to you, bambi.” 

Your heart gave a happy little flutter, but before you could respond, Curtis was standing up and waving his arms to get the crowd to quiet down. “What d’ya think fellas, is Ari’s little cock slut dirty enough yet?” 

The beer that had already been poured on you was starting to dry into a sticky, tacky layer on your skin, but your pussy dripped at the thought of Curtis wanting to make you even filthier. And it seemed his friends liked the idea as well, because they cheered so loud, it felt like the floor was shaking beneath your knees. 

Edgar the bartender already had a beer open and waiting for Curtis when the big man turned to grab one. That time, the bar owner didn’t even need to command you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue—you did that all on your own. Curtis’s smirk was pleased and his blue eyes glimmered with fondness as he tipped the beer over your face, pouring the liquid down your throat and over your body to the cheers of all his friends.

For the better part of the next hour, Curtis took his time defiling you while you sat, naked and on your knees, in the center of his bar, enduring it willingly as the free use toy he’d been given for his birthday. A good amount of the alcohol that didn’t run down over your tits and splash over your pussy went down your throat, and it wasn’t long before your head began to swim. 

Still, your body felt heavy with desire, your nipples tight and desperate to be played with, your cunt pulsing and aching to be filled. It was only because Curtis seemed to be having so much fun, his friends urging him on to make you dirtier and filthier, that you didn’t break down and beg him to fuck you. 

But you couldn’t help the way your body was responding, your mouth falling slack at the teasing slide of liquid over your puckered nipples. If you arched your body just right, and spread your thighs wide enough, you could feel the trickle of beer over you clit, and it made a low moan slip from your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

Curtis’s dark chuckle from above was your only warning. At that moment, he shoved the neck of his beer bottle into your mouth, pushing your lips wide and making you gag as your eyes flew open in surprise. 

“That needy little mouth is begging to be fucked, bambi,” the bar owner growled, quickly unzipping his fly and wedging the bottom of the beer between the zipper’s teeth so he could hold your head in both hands and fuck you with the glass bottle. “Take it, cock slut, fucking take it,” he grunted obscenely. 

All you could do was choke and struggle, the remainder of the beer sloshing down your throat and joining the rest in your belly. Your fingers fisted in the denim jeans encasing Curtis’s thick thighs, but you didn’t push him away. It felt good to finally have one of your holes used, even if you were being fucked by Curtis’s beer bottle instead of his cock like you’d wanted. 

Your jaw hurt by the time he pulled away, your lips swollen from being wrapped around the wide glass. Your body swayed unsteadily on your knees, arousal dripping down between your thighs and joining the mess of beer on the floor. The cheers of the crowd had faded into a constant rumble, and you smile dazedly when they urged Curtis on. 

Suddenly, a big bear paw of a hand was wrapping around your upper arm and you were being hauled to your feet. Blood rushed to your legs, your head swimming and lolling to the side as you tried to find your footing. But standing seemed impossible—and unimportant as arousal burned through you, making you whimper and whine desperately. You hoped someone would fuck you soon.

Curtis chuckled at your pathetic noises, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as his lips grazed your ear. “You’re not too drunk to fuck, are ya, bambi?” he asked in a low, growly voice as he pressed his hips against you, his hard bulge digging into your belly. 

When you’d first walked into Everett’s Roadhouse that night and saw the state of the bar owner, you’d thought there was no way he’d be able to fuck you with how drunk he was. But the hour spent pouring so many bottles of beer over your body instead of drinking them had sobered Curtis up enough to get hard. He was stiff and twitching and pressing into you through his jeans and you wanted him to bury his cock in you.

Your dazed smile widened into a giddy grin and you tipped your head back, blinking your eyes a few times to get your vision to focus enough to see Curtis’s face. “It’s your birfday, big man,” you said, your voice more slurring than sultry, a hiccup interrupting you and making you pause. “I’m use to yours.” Your expression scrunched into a confused pout, knowing your words weren’t right, and tried again. “I’m yours to fuck.”

Curtis was laughing as he hauled you over to one of the pool tables off to the side of the bar, and tossed you down on the green felt. You lay limply on your back, staring up at your trucker’s tall friend while he glared at the guys who’d been playing a game on the table. Their grumbling quickly cut off and Curtis returned his attention to you. 

The crowd shifted to gather around the pool table while Curtis pulled out his cock, which was just as massive as the rest of him. The thick length lay against your mound, the girth covering much of the tattoo there, the tip nearly reaching your belly button. Your inner walls clenched in anticipation of taking Curtis inside you—you couldn’t wait.

“Gimme, gimme,” you mumbled, spreading your thighs wide and pushing your pussy up against the stiff, velvet-wrapped steel of Curtis’s cock. It twitched against your mound, precum dripping onto your belly and joining the mess on your skin. 

Curtis chuckled at your antics, rumbling, “Alright, bambi.” The bar owner grabbed your thighs, pushing you wide as he pulled his hips back, lining up the tip of his big cock with your entrance. Without any warning or preparation, Curtis barreled into your cunt, burying his big cock to the hilt with one thrust. 

Instantly, stinging pain and scorching pleasure cut white-hot through the core of you, overwhelming your mind and leaving your body to react however it wanted. Your head was thrown back, and your lips parted to let out a piercing scream that shattered through the noise of the dive bar.

“Fuck yeah, bambi, scream for me,” Curtis groaned, his big hands kneading your thighs, fingers digging into your plush softness hard enough to hurt. He pulled your body into his, managing to grind his cock even deeper into your pussy, wrenching another, surprised shriek from your lips.

You felt like you were being split in half, pain and pleasure ricocheting through your body fast enough to make you dizzy, your drunken mind unable to tell the difference between the two. All you knew was that it was so much, so overwhelming, and your hands reached out above your head, searching for something to cling to as your mind splintered and your body trembled from the sensation of being split open on Curtis’s cock.

Two warm hands wrapped firmly around your wrists, pinning them to the rough felt of the pool table, leaving you powerless to Curtis’s massive cock. He was rocking his hips in tiny little thrusts, the tip of his length battering against your cervix and wringing helpless little whimpers from your lips as your hazy eyes searched above you for the man pinning you down—somehow knowing before your gaze collided with the familiar blue of your trucker’s eyes that it was Ari.

His face was hovering above you, upside down as he leaned over the table to catch your gaze. The edges of Ari’s features were blurred, but you would’ve recognized your trucker even if you were blackout drunk—even if you were so intoxicated you were more unconscious than not. 

Ari’s face was like a star, familiar and steady, and you smiled happily up at him, your heart warming when you noticed the pride in his gaze. 

“You’re doing well, baby,” Ari rumbled, his features sharp and his expression hard. But deep in the blue depths of his eyes, you could see the affection you knew he felt for you. “You’re being such a good fuck toy for daddy’s friend on his birthday.”

You giggled, squirming happily on the pool table, your face upturned to your trucker, your attention completely diverted from Curtis and his cock, even as he still fucked you. You were having fun with the bar owner, but nothing and no one would ever be able to come between you and Ari. You were his, always, and he knew it.

Ari leaned down, and you thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but you should’ve known better. Ari’s teeth nipped the soft lobe of your ear, making you moan, before he spoke words meant only for you.

“When Curtis is done, I’m gonna fuck your filthy little cunt, kiddo, so don’t pass out,” he rumbled, the twisted promise making your cunt clench around his friend’s cock. “Or do, it doesn’t matter to me.” Ari sank his teeth into the bone at the corner of your jaw, biting you hard enough to make you cry out. “I’m gonna use your holes whether you’re awake or not.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips, your legs spreading wider instinctively at the thought of your trucker using your cunt to get off while you lay unconscious in his bed. You smiled adoringly up at Ari, blinking your eyes slowly. It took you a moment before your swimming vision could focus on Ari’s face, and when he saw he had your attention, he jerked his chin sharply at his friend, commanding you wordlessly to look back at Curtis.

You did, following your trucker’s order immediately, finding the massive bar owner watching you and Ari with a look on his face you couldn’t quite identify. The only way you could describe it was…openly gluttonous. Curtis looked like he wasn’t merely jealous of what you and Ari had, he looked like he would’ve stolen you away from his friend if there was any chance in the universe you’d look at him the same way.

But there wasn’t, and Curtis’s expression shifted as he resigned himself for having the piece of you that Ari had given him for his birthday. It would have to be enough, because even though his cock was inside you, you were still Ari’s and Ari’s alone. 

Curtis grabbed a beer off the edge of the pool table and chugged half of it. As he set it back down, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and leaned over you, his big hands grabbing your thighs again, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. 

The pain only made your arousal flare hotter and you smiled up at your trucker’s friend, murmuring, “Happy birthday, big man.”

“Thank you, bambi,” he muttered, low enough that you knew it was just for you. Then a smirk spread across Curtis’s face, his eyes lighting with filthy desire. “Now, scream if my dick’s too big for your tight little cunt, ya filthy slut.”

With that, Curtis pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained in your grasping channel, then he slammed inside you. Even with your body having adjusted to the sheer size of him, his hard, brutal thrust pulled a scream from your throat, your back arching up off the table and your wrists pulling against Ari’s hold. 

Curtis laughed loudly as the crowd cheered, the big bar owner setting a ferocious pace as he fucked you hard enough that you knew you were going to be sore for days. But you loved it. You loved the pain and the pleasure and the roaring of the crowd as Curtis fucked you in front of all his friends. 

You loved the way Ari’s hands held your arms pinned above your head, how it bared your tits to Curtis, who bent over your body to finally suck on your aching nipples. You loved the way Curtis’s beard rasped against your skin, making you shiver as your pussy clenched hard around his thick cock.

Your mind floated deliriously through the waves of pleasure and pain crashing over your body. You felt drunk on cock and alcohol, not knowing how much time passed as Curtis fucked you, but it seemed to go on forever. Your body was wound so tight for so long, you reached a point where you didn’t know if you were even going to come, or if you were simply going to hover on the edge for the rest of eternity.

“Look at me, bambi,” Curtis growled, dragging your attention back to his handsome face. 

It was only then that you realized you’d been staring up unseeingly at the ceiling of the bar, the golden and neon lights swimming through your vision as you lay limply beneath your trucker’s friend. 

Curtis’s blue eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted into a desirous snarl, his beard making him look like a feral beast as he pounded into you. 

“You’re gonna come on my cock, d’you hear me?” 

Words escaped you, your tongue simply lolling out over your bottom lip when you opened your mouth to respond. All you could manage was a frantic whine as you bobbed your head in a nod. 

“Good slut,” Curtis grunted, one of his hands falling to your lower belly, his thumb finding your clit between your slippery folds. “Come on my cock, bambi, c’mon, come on my big dick like a good little cock slut.” The rough pad of his thumb rubbed your slick, puffy clit unrelentingly, and suddenly, you were tipping over the edge.

Your mouth fell open wider and your spine arched up off the pool table as you screamed, your release crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure hurtling you closer and closer to a darkness that wanted to claim you. But you clung to consciousness, your scream turning into a high, keening whine that could’ve been a sign of pain or pleasure. 

Your release seemed to spur on Curtis and he rutted into you, fucking your clenching pussy as he watched pleasure contort your face and body. Then, with a final grunt, Curtis pulled himself free from your body. He jerked his cock in a big fist until he spilled all over your belly, making sure none of his come fell anywhere near your pussy or the tattoo there.

Curtis’s chest heaved, his eyes distant and dazed with pleasure as he wrung every last drop of come from his cock, and you watched him with the satisfied smile of a job well done. 

When the last rope of his come had splattered, warm and sticky, against your belly, Curtis finally sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the beer handed to him from the crowd. He took a deep swig while he tucked his cock away with the other hand. 

“Thanks, Levinson,” Curtis rasped, tipping his bottle to your trucker, who just nodded. Ari’s hands were idly massaging your wrists and you melted onto the rough felt of the pool table, knowing your trucker would take care of you. Curtis turned his blue eyes on you, and he tipped his bottle to you as well. “Always a pleasure, bambi,” he said, a genuine look of appreciation on his face. 

You were about to respond, but then Curtis turned his beer over and he used the alcohol to wash his come from your skin. You squealed loudly when the cold liquid rushed over your heated skin, instinctively bringing up your legs to curl into yourself, making the crowd laugh and jeer. 

When the beer was empty and his spend was cleaned from your skin, Curtis stumbled away into the crowd, the big man being swallowed up by the well-wishers and revelers congratulating him on fucking you good. Since you knew Curtis was done with you, you looked up at Ari, twisting your hands to wrap your fingers around his arms.

“Can we go now, daddy?” you asked softly.

Ari nodded and gathered you up from the pool table, setting you down on the edge while he pulled off the flannel shirt he’d worn over a white t-shirt. He tugged it over your head and helped you get your trembling arms in the sleeves, then ducked down to brush a kiss to your lips. The events of the night were catching up to you, and you were drunk and exhausted, but you sighed into your trucker’s mouth.

“You did good tonight, baby,” Ari murmured against your lips, and your heart felt like it was suffused in the warmest sunlight. Ari’s praise made you feel lighter than air, even as he pulled away.

You smiled up at your trucker as he straightened, staring at Ari like he was your whole world, which he was. His eyes were the softest you’d ever seen them as he stared right back at you, the tiniest smile curling the corners of his mouth. 

Just then, Lloyd materialized out of the crowd and Ari finally looked away from you to exchange a loaded glance with his other oldest friend. Lloyd seemed to be much more sober than Curtis, and he helped your trucker lead you to the bathroom, where Ari cleaned you up a little and let you relieve yourself after all that you’d had to drink that night. 

Then, Lloyd cleared a path through the drunken crowd while you and Ari followed. Between the two men, no one dared to try to touch you, and you sank into Ari’s side, feeling safe with your trucker as you looped your arms loosely around his waist. He smelled familiar and wonderful and you didn’t even try to hold yourself back from burying your face in his chest even as you kept on walking.

Lloyd pushed open the door of Everett’s Roadhouse and you sighed happily when the cool night air brushed against your heated, still slightly sticky cheeks. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of your sandals, and you blinked your eyes in the darkness until they focused enough to see Ari’s big, black truck looming in packed parking lot surrounded by other long-haul rigs.

“Drysdale’s gonna have a lot of business tonight after that show your girl put on,” Lloyd commented, casting his gaze across the expanse between Everett’s Roadhouse and Diesel Dolls, the strip club on the other side of the parking lot. Lloyd snorted and adjusted the front of his pants, and it was only then that you noticed the sizable bulge there. “Including me,” he muttered.

Your hazy thoughts strayed to the strip club, and you couldn’t help but imagine Lloyd getting a lap dance from a beautiful stripper. The tattoo artist sitting back on a plush couch while a gorgeous woman gyrated on his lap, his fingers twitching to grab her and touch her and defile her the way you knew Lloyd liked.

You didn’t even think to picture yourself as the stripper. Instead, in this little fantasy, you were sitting on Ari’s lap, your trucker’s cock buried in your cunt. Maybe he’d even let you get your own lap dance from Lloyd’s stripper, your body pressed between Ari’s and the other woman…

Your body lurched forward and if it wasn’t for Ari’s firm grip on your waist, you would’ve gone sprawling across the parking lot. For the rest of the walk to Ari’s rig, you tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not let your mind wander so you wouldn’t end up feeling more sore than you already were. 

When the three of you came to a stop beside the driver’s side door of Ari’s truck, Lloyd let his eyes slide to you before moving quickly to your trucker. 

“I hope you had a similar gift in mind for my birthday, Levinson,” Lloyd said with his usual oily charm, his mouth curling into a smirk beneath his well-groomed mustache. 

“We’ll see,” Ari rumbled, but his tone was good-natured. You couldn’t help the way your body clenched at the salacious, and somewhat victorious smile Lloyd shot your way.

But the events of the night were weighing heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion creeping into your bones, and you didn’t have the brainpower to wonder what Lloyd might do with you if you were gifted to him on his birthday. Even if you knew you’d have just as much fun with Ari’s other friend as you’d had with Curtis.

“Daddy,” you whined softly, burying your face against Ari’s beefy chest. His hand squeezed your hip possessively and he said his goodbyes to Lloyd, then helped you into the truck, making sure he was the only one who could see the way your pussy flashed as you climbed into the cab.

Ari followed you up and locked the door behind him while you crawled into the cot in the back, laying down on top of his soft blankets despite the sticky residue still clinging to most of your body. Ari pulled off his t-shirt and kicked off his pants, then joined you in the narrow bed. 

Your body melted at the familiar comfort of his weight behind you, and you began to relax as sleep tugged at the edges of your awareness. But when Ari’s cock pressed hot and hard against your bare ass, you remembered his promise from inside the bar, how he said he was going to fuck you whether you were awake or not. You moaned softly while he bunched up the flannel shirt you still wore around your waist. 

Your face was already pressing into the soft pillow on Ari’s bed, your eyes closed, but you arched your back and pushed your ass against Ari’s hard length, inviting him to slide inside your slick cunt. You were sore from Curtis’s fucking, but wet again for your trucker. You were always wet for him, your body craving the feeling of his cock filling you up in the perfect way that only he could. 

“Ya gonna stay awake for me while I use your messy cunt, cock whore?” Ari rumbled into the back of your neck. The flat of his tongue swiped up the column of your throat, wringing a soft whine from you as he licked the beer from your skin. It felt so good, sending shivers down your spine and raising goosebumps all over your body. “Or did my friend wear you out?”

All you could manage was an unintelligible mumble, the sound muffled by the pillow crushed beneath your face, as sleep pushed more insistently into the border of your wakefulness. Ari’s deep chuckle rumbled against your spine, making you even wetter for your filthy, perfect trucker.

“Go to sleep, kiddo,” Ari murmured in your ear, his hand sliding over your hip to press against your lower belly, his fingertips grazing the tattoo that was branded into the skin of your mound, just above your pussy. His touch moved your body slightly, arching you enough for the head of his cock to find the slit of your cunt. “Let daddy use your tight little hole while you get some rest.” 

Ari slid inside your pussy slowly, pressing the air from your lungs as he took his time impaling you on his cock. Your aching inner walls clenched around him desperately, pain and pleasure flaring to life and zinging through your exhausted limbs. A rough, greedy grunt rumbled in Ari’s chest, the sound softening into a warm, satisfied groan once he was fully seated inside you.

It hurt a little to be stretched out around Ari’s cock so soon after taking Curtis’s pounding, but when your trucker wrapped his arms around you, holding you cocooned in the cage of his broad chest while he rocked his hips almost gently against your ass, you felt yourself melting into him. Ari’s lips and tongue worked against your neck, licking sticky beer from your skin, his beard deliciously familiar while he set an almost soothing pace as he fucked you.

Despite the soreness between your thighs, and the tiny zings of pleasure thrumming through your body from Ari’s cock rocking into you, your exhaustion was too great and it wasn’t long before you were slipping into the warm comfort of sleep. That night in Ari’s truck, you fell asleep with a blissed out, cock drunk smile on your face, happy as could be to be in your trucker’s arms.

You may have spent much of the night as a gift for the bar owner your trucker called a friend, and you were glad you could be part of making Curtis’s birthday special, but you would always belong to Ari. And you would always end your nights in his arms, because that was where you wanted to be and where you belonged—with your trucker, Ari Levinson.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

[imyourbratzdoll]

When moms out Step daddy steve and Step bro curtis come out to play with reader 🤤🫡🥴😏 d.p anyone and teases heheh

summary - your mum leaves the house, leaving you alone with your stepdad and stepbrother.

warning - smut, cheating, stepcest, word slut is used.

18+ only please, the gifs I use aren’t mine, divider by @newlips

Your mum had mentioned going out to see some friends, leaving you alone with your stepdad and stepbrother. Your cheeks had been heated ever since you had said goodbye to her, the reason being was the two very large men leaning against the wall opposite you, staring at you with hungry eyes.

You didn’t know how it happened so fast, the moment your mum pulled out of the driveway, Steve and Curtis grabbed you, pulling you into the lounge room and onto the couch. They hastily pulled your clothes off, smothering your body with their kisses and rough hands.

You whimpered against them as your stepdad Steve gripped your hips tight, thrusting into your soft cunt. Your stepbrother Curtis teased your puffy clit, flicking and rubbing it. A smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes flutter, your lips parting as the prettiest sounds slip out.

“Who’s our good little girl?” You clench around Steve, the raspiness of his voice causing your insides to tingle. A gasp gets caught in your throat as Curtis slaps your clit, enjoying how you squirmed against his touch.

“Answer your daddy, you little slut.” You whine, feeling your mind become dumb. They watch as a tiny bit of drool slips past your lips, and chuckle, picking up their movements.

“C’mon, baby girl. Answer us or you don’t get to cum.” Steve threatens.

You begin to babble, “nooo…” Your mind slipping into a fuzzier state, your moans coming out as huffs as you try and speak. “Y—you two are!” Your vision becomes white as you feel something inside of you snap.

Steve and Curtis groan as they watch your juices gush out, coating them. Your stepbrother leans forward to prolong your orgasm by taking your puffy clit between his lips, your back arches as he sucks it harshly into his mouth.

Steve grins, whispering roughly into your ear. “Good girl. Our good fucking girl.” Those are the only words you hear as you drift off.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Curtis Everett wants you to want him.

prompts. | Curtis Everett + Mob/mafia + “Don’t be a brat.” + Squirting, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!Curtis Everett x fem!reader.

warnings. | DUBCON, smut, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, mob stuff, squirting, fingering, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

You sit on Curtis’s desk, paperwork ruined underneath your ass. You grip the edge of the table and spread your legs as much as you can. The soldier of the most feared mob in the city does most of the work for you, anyway. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were hired as a maid—which really meant you would serve cigars, lighters, snacks, and alcohol when asked. You turn a blind eye to every crime and keep to yourself.

But you’re not sure what attracted Curtis to you. Perhaps your quietness, which he mirrors. But silence is a given—a necessity here. And so when he pulled you into his office and began to undress you, you knew you couldn’t stop him, even though part of you wanted to. 

“S’too much!” you wail, legs involuntarily trying to shut, almost forcing Curtis out from between them. The large man stands between your thighs, stopping you from doing so. He growls.

“No, it isn’t. It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” he tells you gruffly. Curtis’ words are final; there is never any room for argument. 

But your cunt nearly hurts—clit overwrought and extremely sensitive. He has two fingers shoved inside you, curled perfectly to stroke that sweet spot while the other hand rubs at your nub. It’s too much for you to bear.

“No– Please, I can’t!” you plead, limbs trembling as Curtis sends you tumbling towards another orgasm. You’ve lost count at this point. He groans. “You can and you will,” he says. 

You shake your head. “Don’t be a brat,” he chides, moving closer. His face is right in front of yours, and you can smell your cunt on his breath. You whimper at his words, the sound sweet to Curtis’ ears.

The squelching sounds of your pussy fill the room, along with the smell of sex and your moans, even though Curtis hasn’t fucked you yet. 

You’re dripping wet, soaking the desk and the papers beneath you. Curtis just wants to lick all your slick up, but he knows he needs to take it slow. 

He wishes that you’re waiting in anticipation for him to touch you again every day. He wants you to look for him in every room and squeeze your thighs whenever you think about him. Curtis needs you to need him—to come begging for him to fuck you.

“This cunt is so messy,” he grunts, admiring how easy it is for him to touch you. Your chest heaves as he forces you to come again, but this time, there is an odd sensation. 

It’s almost as if you have to pee—the pressure building up inside you. But you don’t—instead, your nerves are alight, and your moans are louder. 

Curtis smirks, letting out a small chuckle. It’s a sound you’ve never heard from the stoic soldier until now. 

“And now, you’re gonna make an even bigger mess,” he says, voice low and laced with mischief. 

You furrow your brows in confusion as you reach another climax. This one, you can tell, is much stronger than all the previous ones. 

When you come undone, you cry out Curtis’ name and grip the table even tighter. Liquid spurts out of you and soaks the soldier’s hand, much to his delight. Your chest rises and falls as you ride the wave of pleasure despite your previous refusal.

“Fuck, good girl,” he mutters, his cock hard and straining against his boxers. Curtis knows it wouldn’t take much for him to come right there, too. Just one touch from you, and he would be a goner. 

You pant, and your heart clamours in your chest. Much to your relief, Curtis slows his movements down and helps you to come down from your high with ease rather than pulling another climax out of you. 

You’re absolutely exhausted, and when you open your eyes, you’re shocked at how you’ve wet his hand, trousers, and the floor in your juices. You can’t believe you just squirted. You’ve never done that before—he’s the only man with enough skill to have tried and succeeded. 

Looking up at Curtis with your jaw slackened, he stares down at you. He is unmoving, unwavering. Just like a soldier should be. 

[eccentricallygothic]

About burglar!Curtis…

This idea occurred to me too, and to shut me up he’d use me for his needs and breed me full of his child 🥵🫣🫣

KATHYYYY YOU SEXY BEAST 🥵

| Wrong Place, Right Time | 

Warning(s): Noncon, burglar!Curtis, frisking, corruption kink, groping, unprotected p-in-v sex, bondage, breeding kink, choking, fear kink, pet names, dacryphilia, mild spanking, creampie, degradation, drugging.  

Pairing: Dark Burglar!Curtis Everett | Naive!You.

It was ironic and yet fateful. 

The house that the shadowy man had broken in to rob wasn't even yours.  

You had just been a friend who was there for a sleepover. 

Your eyes widen and you freeze in your spot between the double doors of the fridge when you hear a click from the kitchen backdoor that opens into the yard behind the house. Either you were too caught up in your rummaging of the contents inside the appliance to find something to snack on, or whoever it was that was slowly entering the dimly lit room with soft thuds of their boots now was such a professional that they hadn't required any prior tampering with the mechanism before easing it open, because you hadn't heard anything until the door was being noiselessly pulled open. 

Your head whips to your sides frantically as you panic, unable to decide a course of action that feels right. 

It is when the footsteps become louder and louder that you drop to your knees with your ears flaming hot and you crawl to the kitchen island and grab the first thing that you can reach; which is a rolling pin for whatever reason. 

Clutching your weapon close to your chest, you bite your lip to try and champion your panting as you move to your feet but remain ducking behind the island, vigilant eyes scanning your surroundings. Whoever it is has most probably figured out that they aren't alone due to how the refrigerator light had been illuminating the otherwise mostly dark room, the thumping close of the magnetized doors only further damning you. 

You tightly chew on your bottom lip as you slowly move around the counter, eyeing the kitchen door while the footsteps circle the workspace in the same fashion.

Your eyebrows furrow when they abruptly come to a halt and everything goes dead silent again. You take a few moments before raising your head and peeking over the marble top to check the intruder's position. 

But no one is there. 

Self doubt suddenly grips at you and you wonder if you hallucinated or misperceived something else for a creep but then–

"Boo~" a deep whisper sounds right beside your ear and your eyes widen as you spin so fast you can barely comprehend anything. The way in which the stranger suspends your rushed attack by wrapping his rough fingers around your weapon bearing band and depriving it of any and all liberty while his other hand flies to your throat to walk you back into a wall is all too quick for you to register until after it's happened. 

"Woah, now. What do we think we are doing?"

Okay, he is a professional. 

Your eyes that can rival saucers instantly fill with tears as the man gathers your other hand along with the one that had meant him offense above your head. He easily snatches the rolling pin from you before looking around and then tossing it in a basket that holds various kitchen cloths in it. 

The harsh blue of his eyes is so bright that you can make it out even in the liminal lighting. "Now, where were we?" As his amused gaze now trails over your barely clad body, you realize that burglary is no longer the center of his focus, for a deep pink tongue reveals itself from his bearded mouth and licks a long stripe of his chapped bottom lip. Since one of his arms is half raised to keep you locked in place, the heavy scent of what can only be described as raw manliness wafts to your nostrils and lingers in the air all around you. His pale face is dirty and stern, cheeks scarred in some places under the thick mat of his dark beard.  

The stranger does not muffle your mouth but you're far too petrified to attempt anything unwise. He does not need to press a weapon to your skin to ensure meekness either, for his bruised and naked lethal fists are threatening enough. 

So you let out the only thing anyone in your situation would in their helplessness. "P- Please." 

"Hm" his eyes lower to scan your erect nipples that push against the sheer fabric of your tank top, his pearly whites -that are in a stark contrast to the rest of the darkness- flash as he smirks when he locates the spot that your natural moisture has caused in your fluffy cotton panties. "Gotta make sure you don't have any more surprises for me first" and then you're whipped around before his free hand is all over you, the coarse pads of his fingers roaming over every bump and crevice of your form. 

You let out an audible gasp when his palm brushes against your breasts -that he had neglected along with your intimates during the initial frisk- and he lets it circle the shape before taking a proper squeeze. You wince and your body responds to the pain by making your muscles twitch. Your back arches as a result and your ass bounces up to collide with his own privates and then the man has no choice but to look down with a grunt at the assaulter. 

The sight that his cruel blue eyes meet with pulls his lips wider and his expression deepens into a grin. "Jeez" a small patch of fuzzy little threads resembling a bunny tail stands erect an inch or two above your covered pucker. 

What? 

You like cute things and so you reward yourself with them every once in a while. 

The realization that you are wearing that underwear claws at your throat and cheeks alike and you can't help but flush even in this depraved situation. 

"Didn't know I had myself a bunny here" your thumping heart begins to thunder when you feel his hand toy with the 'tail' for a few moments before he flicks it. You are on the verge of letting out a peep but he suddenly snatches your throat back into his grasp and sandwiches your body between his hard one and the wall you're facing. 

"Tell me" his beard scratches against the shell of your ear from behind and you tremble in fear. Your legs try to press together to try and cover yourself in any way you can but the stranger ruthlessly worms one of his feet between yours and roughly pushes them apart. The action causes you to lose your balance and your legs go to split but the knee he props up in the middle catches you just in time. "Do you like to breed like one too?" He doesn't care for the frantic shaking of your head and instead caresses your nether regions with the intruder he has pushed between them. 

"Plea–"

"I think you do" he decides for the two of you and marches you into the pantry closet before pushing you over a big carton that stands in the center. The stranger easily manhandles you and before you can try your luck even in vain, he grabs an apple from one of many baskets lined along the edge of a table before pushing it in your mouth. Your teeth dig into it and your jaw locks in place due to its size, your head having no choice but to lay against the box sideways as your eyes release stinging tears all the while. 

The man seems to be in a rut as he does not bother with ridding you of what little covers you have on, instead only roughly pulling down your panties before grunting at the sight of your sex that glistens even in the small light that shines in the dark closet from the kitchen. A calloused palm lands on your ass and makes you jump up with a whimper, your bloodshot eyes unable to see much even though they frantically dart about futilely in every direction they can. 

The man does not waste another second and aligns his rock hard cock along your entrance and pushes in within the next moment, groaning at the balmy tightness of your soft walls. "Fuck, bunny" while one of his coarse hands keep your wrists arrested above your ass, the other squeezes at your hip before steeling you in place. "Trying to shake your head no but makin' a mess inside those cute little bunny panties like it's your job" he jerks the rest of his seemingly never ending length deep up your cavern. 

Your pussy has had to expand so much to accompany him that you can feel a very obvious and painful strain in the band of your opening, the ache causing you to fear that you might rip. Your mouth is full of apple juice as you blink away your tears, face scrunched in discomfort as you stare at the wine rack in front of you. 

The man pulls back almost all the way out only to plunge his cock deeper and harder up your hot channel now. Your head spins and can tell that his unforgiving size has already located your sensitive bundle of nerves within the first few thrusts. 

His stiff and thick tip is unrelenting after that as he just keeps on increasing his speed, his heavy balls slapping your sore ass as they try to push their own way in with each push of his hips. The man grunts, curses, gropes, squeezes, spanks and somewhere along the way even leans down to bite at your tear stained cheeks, licking them in long stripes and twitching at the taste while the box below you violently shakes and threatens to come undone by how roughly it is being rocked back and forth. 

"You like that, huh, bunny?" He has realized that each time he spanks you or pulsates inside you, you clench sensitively with a moan. And so he has been doing that for the past couple pounds. "Like getting fucked like the little breeding bunny that you are?" His face is next to yours as you sob into the apple, forcing yourself to keep your eyes trained on the wine bottles as he glowers down on you while pistoning himself in and out of you like you're nothing but a toy meant for relief of the depraved sorts.

"What is with the crying, huh?" His hips snap against yours so hard that your aching ass and even pucker shake with each thrust. "You finally have what you always wanted; a man to breed you full and swell like the dirty little bunny that you are" his deep voice is now even more hoarse due to his irregular breathing. "Isn't that why you saunter around other people's houses in nothing but slutty little underwear? So someone can come along and take you for the breeding bunny that you are?" Your eyes move from their position for the first time in a while.

How does he know that it's not your house? 

"You don't have to worry about anything now" he wraps your hair around his hand before roughly pulling at it to withstand the force of his orgasm that shoots up your cavity. "Except. For. Bearing. Me. A. Healthy. Fuckin'. Fluffle." Your body naturally reacts to the overwhelming stimulation as he gives you a jab with each word, fucking his hot seed deeper and deeper up your womb, causing your hips to tighten and pussy to milk him as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you fall. 

Your owner takes his sweet time fucking his orgasm out and into you as you spasm against the carton helplessly, drowning in a numbing combination of myopia and vertigo of your forced ecstacy, thighs quivering violently. 

"Now," the stranger lets up only when he is fully satisfied… for now. Pulling himself out of your abused channel with a wince, he fixes himself up after letting your arms fall limp at your sides. "Oh– there, there" he abruptly halts whatever it is that he's doing behind you to pull up your panties when his seed threatens to spill out of your stuffed slit. "Can't let it go to waste now, can we?" He snickers to himself before appropriating the rest of his condition.

"Now, let's get you to your burrow" you are manhandled up to your malfunctioning feet by your nape and a wet cloth presses to your nose before your eyes can even adjust to the sudden burst of light that shines in from behind his towering form. His face is the last thing you can make out before your knees finally give out and you go to fall on your back but he catches you in one of his hard arms. 

"There, there, bunny" his voice echoes in your head as the world around you starts to melt. "I've got you" you feel him remove the apple from your now slack jaw before he lumps you on one of his shoulders. 

And then your consciousness fades into an unfathomable abyss. 

MASTERLIST

[syntheticavenger]

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.”

[bigtreefest]

watermelon juice dripping down his throat, onto his chest hair LEMME LICK

I don’t even like watermelon that much😅, but I like him. A lot. 🫣

Drip… and Lick

Pairing: Curtis Everett x reader

Wc: idk, written in drafts, but it’s gotta be at least 1k

Warnings: um, licking, and Curtis… so, yeah 18+ only, minors DNI

A/N: Inspired by this post and some of my beautiful hoe friends @thezombieprostitute @krirebr @stargazingfangirl18 @brandycranby This is me kicking off the 300 follower summer celebration with my own mini fic. Hope you enjoy and I can’t wait for your your feedback on this one😈

Made with the prompts: a long drive together + “I’ve got something else you can lick” + [watermelon] dripping down someone’s skin

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Curtis had wanted to have a picnic with you all summer, but your busy schedule hadn’t allowed for it. And honestly, neither had the weather. The days had been long and hot, unbearably so, with UV indexes maxed out. Stepping outside was like asking to be baked, which is why he was grateful for all the rain that hit this past week.

It was a great reprieve for everything: the grass, the garden, the sweltering temperatures. Now that the outside was actually bearable, Curtis could finally go through with his plans.

Before you got off work, he packed up his picnic basket, preparing the summer goods for you. A nice little salad, some sandwiches, and a beautiful watermelon he found at the farmer’s market the other day. He was all prepped once you got home.

As soon as you walked through the door, you were greeted by a kiss on the cheek and Curtis holding your favorite comfy sundress. After a long day at work, the last thing you wanted to wear was pants, so you went to change.

Once you emerged, hair tied up and off your neck finally and flowy dress adorned, you were ready to go. You grabbed Curtis’s outstretched hand and let him lead you to the truck where you slid up in to the middle of the bench seat.

An evening drive like this was one of your favorite things to do together. Letting the breeze flow with the windows down. Seeing the scenery of passing houses turn into open fields of wildflowers on the rolling hills.

After taking the long way around, Curtis pulled into the spot he always did at the end of the road on the back side of the airport where the two of you would lay in his truck bed to watch the planes take off and land. He hopped down out of the cab and held a hand out for you, taking you back for the cozy, yet cool setup he had made earlier.

The two of you got settled, Curtis pulling out your sandwich and handing it to you just as the sun began to reach the horizon. The sky was painted with hues of red and light purple, wispy clouds making way for the stars that would soon twinkle, framing the moon in the open sky.

You settled up close next to him, the two of you enjoying the main part of the meal as the planes flew overhead, the lights of the runway flicking on as the sky dimmed. All you could think about while you were eating was how sweet this was, how sweet he was for doing it so often for you. Curtis was a gruff, hardworking man, and with you, that prickly shell turned soft, as he used his efforts to show you his appreciation for the love and peace you brought to him. The feelings he thought he’d never have, the ones he thought he didn’t deserve. His humility and bottomless affection was all you saw, though, the deep care you held for each other tying your souls together. In this moment, you realized if he was all you had for the rest of your life, that would be more than enough, and you wanted to show that. You needed him, and could feel it start to burn in the depths of your belly: a love that you had to show, that you wanted to show, again, and again, and again, for eternity.

You climbed into Curtis’s lap, giving him a peck, your sundress falling around your legs, leaving your core settling right over him in his worn jeans. Your hands gently came up to frame his face, his beard lightly scratching your palms. Your body was growing warm against the cold evening air, buzzing with desire from the way he cared for you, the way you cared for each other.

“Thank you for this, Curtis. It’s perfect. The food was delicious, but I think I’m ready for dessert.”

Curtis’s large hands settled on your waist as he looked up at you. He could see the warmth in your eyes at that statement. It was evident this little date made your day so much better, but he hadn’t quite caught on yet to the true fire in your gaze.

“Yeah? I’ve got this beautiful watermelon. Thought that would be nice and refreshing.”

He looked up at you with the softest features, eyes switching between yours, looking for approval. Your thumbs brushed over his freckled cheeks, more prominent from the summer sun, as you nodded with a breathy giggle.

“Um, yeah. That sounds good.”

He beamed up at you, turning to the side to pull out the fruit before he went still. He hadn’t cut it. Or really even brought anything to cut it, unless you counted the flimsy plasticware the two of you ate your salads with. He looked up at you with big eyes as you laughed again, catching on to what happened.

“Hold on, give me a second, I can fix this. You don’t mind if it’s not perfectly cut, right?”

You shook your head, curious to see what he could possibly have in mind. He turned the watermelon upright as he grabbed a plastic knife, adjusting it in his hand so it seemed stable enough. He raised his hand, stabbing the edge of the utensil into the tough rind. That obviously wasn’t doing much, but it did enough. You watched as Curtis’s thick, yet surprisingly nimble fingers widened the nick into a gap as he put both hands in and pulled, the robust fruit splitting in two as some juices leaked out. As did yours, as you felt a flush of arousal at the show of brute strength. So casual, he probably had no idea what he was doing to you.

If that knife was any indication, there probably wasn’t a good way to get the flesh out, either, so he opted to just keep with his bare hands, scooping out a piece to feed to you. You opened your mouth, eyes never leaving his as your lips surrounded his thumb and pointer finger. The juice from his hand ran down his thick forearm, over the hair that covered it. As he moved to pull away, your hands quickly snapped to stop him, eyes still locked. You dipped your head to the drop that had trickled down, now about to reach his elbow, and stuck out your tongue, tracing the path of watermelon juice up to his palm, all the way back to his fingers, sucking them and releasing with a pop.

Curtis watched in real time as your pupils blew wide and you began to unbutton his linen shirt before reaching over and grabbing your own piece of watermelon to feed to him. Oh. That was where this was going. How did he not see it before? He was never going to slice a watermelon again, but he planned to get a lot more before summer was done. And he’d gladly pay a fortune to get them out of season if they made you react like this.

You popped the piece in his mouth, watching as the juice dribbled down his chin, and down to his neck, over the course hair of his chest. You pulled back slightly, watching the stream right next to his nipple, and you ducked down again and flattened your tongue against the firm warmth of his chest, circling the peak before tracing up again, tongue being deliciously scratched until you reached the smooth, slightly salty skin of his neck, dressed with the humidity and a thin layer of sweat.

You pressed a kiss to his jugular as he swallowed the sweet fruit, his lips parting in a gasp, waiting for what you were going to do next. The fire in his eyes grew, though, to meet yours, as his awe-struck, enamored look turned into a smirk. Curtis finally spoke up in a strained, deep voice, silky with seduction.

“You know, I’ve got something else you can lick…”

Bonus A/N: for your fantasies, brandy bean. Eat your heart out.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖎𝖘 𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖁𝖔𝖎𝖈𝖊

𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟹 - 𝚆𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚘𝚕𝚏 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 ~ 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚍'𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚡 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜.

Word Count: ~2.1k

Relationship: werewolf!Curtis Everett x fem!reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected p in v sex, f receiving oral sex, outdoor sex, unrealistic ability to take an entire monster dick), established relationship, SMUT! 18+ ONLY!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all of my latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Curtis smiled at your back when he heard you humming while you washed the dishes, putting the rest of your meal in the fridge before coming to stand behind you and press his chest against your back. He could practically hear you smiling when he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin against the top of your head, kissing your hair and breathing in your scent as he watched the sun start to set.

He was more anxious than he had ever been in his entire life, already feeling that itchiness under his skin that accompanied his change. For the past few months he’d managed to convince you he was sick during the period of his shifting, but he was in love with you, he wanted to share every part of his life with you. And that meant he had to tell you his biggest secret.

“What’s wrong, puppy?” Your smile was warm and full of love when you looked at him over your shoulder, winding your fingers through his on your waist when he sighed heavily. “You’ve been quiet all evening. Or, more quiet than usual.”

“Don’t tease, petal.” Curtis bent down to bite your ear as he growled playfully, squeezing you tighter when you rolled your ass back against his dick and screwing his eyes closed as he tried to stay focused on the task at hand. “I have something I need to show you, outside.”

“Ooh, what is it?” You laughed in that lovely way he adored when he just shook his head at you, letting him pull you along by your hand and still beaming at him. “A surprise? This had better be good.”

“Oh it’s… it’s something.” He drew you close and kissed you tenderly, groaning when he felt you whine into his mouth and resting his forehead against yours. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mmhm… wait!” You pouted and huffed when he separated from you fully to go stand in the center of the clearing in front of his cabin, wanting to follow him but staying when he held up his hand. Then he started to take his shirt off and it’s not like you could pout about that, grinning and playing with the edge of your skirt as you thought about burying your face in his chest hair. “Are we gonna do it outdoors?”

“I don’t…” He chewed on his lip while he started to slide his jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs, blushing slightly as he kicked them away and thought about where he was hoping tonight might go. “We’ll see.”

“Well we’d better be doing something, you know how worked up I get when you’re naked.” The first sliver of the moon peeked over the horizon and Curtis winced, making you frown when he crouched over and dug his fingers into the soft earth. “Puppy… Curtis, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I promise. It looks a lot worse than it is.” He groaned when he felt the first crack of his ribs, lifting his gaze to yours and letting you see that his eyes now shone gold. “Don’t freak out, and whatever you do, don’t run. Promise me, baby girl?”

“Okay…” You were definitely freaking out, but you tried not to show it, even though all you wanted was to go to him and hold him when his body bent unnaturally and he groaned.

Curtis seemed to shimmer, his muscles rippling and changing as his limbs started growing longer and more thick with thick brown hair sprouting from every inch of his skin. His chest puffed out and his stomach grew taut as his nails extended into claws, sharp and black and ready to tear through the flesh of his prey. When his face elongated his teeth sharpened and turned into fangs, dripping saliva as his tongue lolled in his mouth. As the moon kept rising he kept growing, getting bigger and stronger before your eyes until he was standing at ten feet tall and you had to crane your neck to look up at him.

You were frozen to the spot once he was fully transformed, standing there with your mouth hanging open as you tried to come to terms with everything you just saw. Your boyfriend was a werewolf. A very large, very… attractive werewolf? Did this make you a weirdo? It was difficult to try to think about the nuances when you suddenly noticed that his cock had also grown prodigiously. You didn’t think it was possible for him to get any bigger, but dear god. Like… the possibility of you being able to take the whole thing was basically none. So why were you clenching? And his fur just looked so soft, just begging for you to run your fingers through. All in all, you were very confused.

“Curtis…” you flinched when he suddenly sank to all fours and prowled towards you, but you remembered him telling you not to run, plus your feet were still basically glued in place. “Puppy…”

Oh, his tail started wagging when you called him that, and it was hard to be freaked out when your puppy turned out to be a puppy for real. A large, sexy puppy. He finally reached you and started sniffing your hair, sneezing affectionately when you giggled as his warm breath blew against your skin. Then he nosed your hair aside so he could smell your neck, and the way he growled made your entire body vibrate as he kept circling you. He smelled like the wild, like musk and sex and feral energy. It was driving you insane. Suddenly you were pinned to the ground, gasping when Curtis licked the side of your neck and used his claws to shred your dress and panties.

“What… what are you… puppy…”

When he nipped at your shoulder your pussy fluttered so hard your toes curled, shutting your mouth and letting him press you into the dirt as he began trailing his wet nose down the length of your spine. He couldn’t speak in this form, but it was like you could hear his thoughts and feelings, possessive and affectionate words like ‘mine’, ‘love’, ‘mate’ as he grunted and chuffed against your skin. His clawed hands dug into the soft cheeks of your ass as they spread them apart, making you whimper and spread your legs for him when he nosed at your quivering holes.

Curtis’s claws sunk into your skin while he lapped and nibbled at your pussy and asshole, growling at the taste of you and the way you gasped and moaned for him. Every single part of you was so sweet, and it was all his. The noises you made while he covered his face in your scent made his already hard cock throb almost painfully, a low growl making his lips curl while he nudged at your asshole with his snout. Once he was satisfied he dragged his nose up the length of your spine, nipping at the back of your neck as he let go of your hips so he could brace his hands on either side of your head while he prepared to mount you.

You buried your fingers in the earth when he pushed his now massive cock inside your quivering pussy, your scream getting caught in your throat and coming out a garbled moan when he didn’t bother going slow and just slammed into you. Your cunt fluttered wildly at the intrusion, clenching so hard it was like you were trying to push him out of you while he started to fuck you at a savage pace. Apparently your concerns about not being able to take all of him were unfounded, judging by the fact that his balls were smacking against your sensitive clit at the end of each of his vicious thrusts. All of a sudden your eyes were rolling back in your head and your scream finally broke free, your pussy squirting wildly until Curtis’s fur was soaked in your sweet scent.

Curtis watched you writhe beneath him with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, his hips still moving at a pace that was sure to leave bruises on the insides of your thighs. You were so beautiful, and you were his. There was no one else in the world for him, the fact that you didn’t run screaming when you saw him had cemented in his mind that you were his lifelong mate. He knew that he would never let anything happen to you as long as he lived. When you screwed your eyes closed after he hit you particularly deep he grunted, licking your cheek and nuzzling your hair until you opened your eyes with a slightly lopsided smile.

“Hi puppy… oh fuck.” You bit your lip and whimpered when he ground into you, your arms giving out when another incredible orgasm overtook you so all you could do was spasm weakly. “Oh my god… oh, it’s so good, I love you so much.”

As soon as you said it Curtis threw his head back and howled, somehow managing to move his hips even faster while you yelped at the ferocity of his affections. His cock started to swell as he neared his end, stretching your pussy to its limits and making you arch your back as you gasped at the sensation. He had to fight the urge to bite your neck, he was so lost in the pleasure he felt at knowing you belonged to him. But he managed to hold himself back, burying his face on the crook of your neck and growling when his balls pulled up tight to his body.

When he exploded inside you you saw stars, desperately sucking down air when he pumped his cum deep inside you and his knot swelled to lock him inside you. Another orgasm took you while he howled and slowed the movements of his hips, your body shaking weakly as you let out a quiet mewl. Once he had finished howling in ecstasy he bent back down to rub his face against your neck and shoulder, all of his weight resting on his enormous arms so he didn’t crush you. He was panting heavily and when you looked up at him he almost appeared dazed, his tongue lolling out of his mouth while he whined softly.

His massive body kept you caged in while you both basked in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking, sweat slicking down Curtis’s fur and covering your body in a thin sheen as you fought to catch your breath. You were absolutely fuckdrunk, whining and moaning quietly while your pussy kept fluttering around Curtis’s monstrous cock. Whatever had just happened was somewhere on the scale between ‘utterly life changing’ and ‘my brain can’t handle this so it broke’. But then you looked up into your puppy’s golden eyes and he rubbed his wet nose against yours and all you knew was that he made you happy. Getting fucked until you lost your mind was just a bonus.

When Curtis woke up the next morning he groaned, feeling a dull ache in his core that he wasn’t sure about. Then he sat up and looked down at himself and it was fairly obvious what had happened. His cock was still half hard and shiny with a mix of your juices and his cum. He was at least relieved there wasn’t any blood on his body, or the taste of it in his mouth, but he still wanted to make sure you were alright.

“Petal?” Curtis smiled when he looked to the side and saw you sprawled out next to him, your bare chest rising and falling slowly while you let out those cute little snores you insisted didn’t exist. He nudged you when you only grumbled for him, rolling you over and kissing your face until you opened your eyes with a groan. “Hi there little flower. How you feeling?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Curtis.” You scrunched up your face when he snorted and bent down to kiss your forehead, breathing deeply and whining at how sore you were. “I’m gonna have to start working out if we’re gonna do this every month. You’re carrying me back to the cabin, puppy. God, my thighs and ass are chafed, and I’m pretty sure you fucked me in at least one poison ivy bush. Don’t pout at me, it was worth it. But you’re waiting on me hand and foot for the rest of the day.”

[brandycranby]

older man/younger woman with curtis who's just a little too gritty and blue collar for you to be making eyes at, or so he says.

"go find someone your own age, kid"

[biteofcherry]

Am I curled in bed, suffering the curse of period, daydreaming about Snowpiercer AU?

Restoring balance

Curtis Everett x female reader

Curtis Everett Masterlist

Main Masterlist

warnings: dystopian world; harsh conditions; mostly consensual (sliiightly dub-con due to apocalyptic circumstances forcing you to accept certain deals); size kink; breeding kink (obviously, since it's me);

You're one of the people who survived out in the world, not on the train and you've been living in a cottage that's now mostly rickety, but you have a cellar where you store many preserves and you have a small garden with a greenhouse where you grow plants which you then barter with other survivors;

Then one day a small group of train survivors come raiding your place and the idiots attempt to steal from you, ripping even the unripe tomatoes from the bushes, so you attack one of them with a fork and end up being dragged away to their compound, where they drop you onto your knees in front of the biggest, most dangerous looking man you've ever seen;

Curtis frowns and asks what's that all about. His men complain that you attacked them, to which you sneer that you are always open to barter your produce, but you won't let anyone steal from you, or ruin your plants.

Curtis takes the crate they've stolen and walks you back to your cottage, where he surveys the place and closely surveys you, too;

he asks what you'd like to barter that crate for and you point at your old stove and ask if he has parts that could fix it. He agrees and offers a bonus-

closes the distance between you two, trapping you against the old kitchen table

Curtis asks how long has its been since you felt pleasure and you boldly tilt your chin up and blurt out that you give yourself plenty of orgasms and are satisfied with that.

He takes your small hand in his large palm, comparing your sizes, and makes a comment how better it could feel, if your tight pussy got to stretch around something bigger than your nimble fingers

then cups your face and asks when was the last time you've been kissed

a fleeting thought about the first kind of making out with your then boyfriend enters your mind, but it instantly dissolves when Curtis claims your mouth.

You don't remember any kiss to ever feel like this, or any boy to hold you in place with such stoic confidence. It gets you weak in the knees, your breath quickening as Curtis growls into the kiss, turning it more insistent

he lifts you onto the table and tugs down your pants; fingers dipping between your thighs as his mouth descends down your neck

Curtis was right about the size of his fingers feeling so much better than yours, but it's also been so long that the pleasure rides the edge of discomfort and pain;

he's relentless, pumping into you as he forces you flat on your back and rips your shirt. He drives you to the edge, curling his fingers and circling your clit with his thumb, his mouth sucking on your pebbled nipples, teeth grazing sensitive peaks

then he's yanking his own pants open, releasing his painfully hard cock with a groan

When he thrusts into you, your scream echoes through the small cottage. Not even his fingers could've prepared you for that monster of a cock.

He fucks you roughly, mouthing on your breasts, covering them in saliva. His fingers grip all over, mapping out your body through the layers of fabric

when you come - back arched, fingers clenching on the lapels of Curtis' thick wool coat - it feels like true little death as the blinding pleasure ripples with a sting of pain in your unused pussy

Curtis stays buried inside you, groaning in delight as your walls flutter around his cock. But when your aftershocks subside, he's pulling you off the table and pushing you down to your knees

he finishes in your mouth, grabbing the back of your head and keeping you still as he empties down your throat.

He helps you up a moment later, steadying you as you lightly sway. He announces that from now on you will barter only with him.

The next day he comes with parts for the stove, which he fixes himself. You deem it worthy of the whole crate of produce, but warn Curtis that you need time for new vegetables and fruit to grow.

He comes back as agreed, bringing you a full roll of thick, warm fabric and a sewing kit. Since he ruined some of your clothes and the rest of your wardrobe needs care, too, you agree to exchange another portion of your produce, including two jars of preserves

it's also your sneaky way to assure yourself business for the period when fresh vegetables aren't available.

You give Curtis your hand to shake on your new transaction. He smirks, but takes it. Then swiftly turns you around and bends you over the sink.

This time he goes down on his knees, spreading your asscheeks and licking your pussy in reverence. He's damn skilled at making you drip, but the wetter you get, the hungrier for you he becomes

when you squeak "Enough" after the second time he makes you cum, Curtis slaps your ass and sucks on your clit so hard you break into tears;

he finishes all over your back and ass, rutting his cock between your sticky thighs first.

The next time he brings a new sheet of glass for the cracked one in your greenhouse, as well a package of fresh venison. It's been at least two years since you ate meat, so you don't argue much with Curtis when he asks for three jars of your preserves along with a basket of potatoes

it also seems fair to let him fuck your face, until you're a sobbing mess and he spills all over your face.

Each time Curtis visits, you try to compose yourself as blood rushes south to ignite fire in your core. You tell yourself that seeing him is exciting, because it means survival - ensuring you have provisions

But also each time he leaves, you spend the next weeks replaying in your head the things he's done to you as you drive yourself to orgasms.

When Curtis comes to you three months into your agreement, there's a certain smugness to his tone and his haunted, blue eyes shine a happy kind of spark

there's a reason for his satisfaction and it leaves you gasping in awe as he presents you with two living chickens. No, a chicken and a rooster.

"For this-" Curtis starts, diverting your attention back to him

"Ten jars!" You blurt instantly, ready to agree to a full crate of vegetables, as well. Because the chickens would be greatly profitable for you.

Curtis chuckles, shaking his head. He slips off his coat and lays it over the small cage in which he brought the birds in. He moves around the table, standing between you and the cage.

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up

"For this," his tone drops to a low, dark caress, "you'll let me finish in your pussy."

Your intake of breath is sharp, your pupils widen.

There are many arguments for rejecting Curtis' demand, but they chaotically bump somewhere in the back of your head, while your tongue lies speechless.

"With a chick and a rooster, you'll be able to have eggs to barter, but also eggs to hatch." He points out. "In time you'll get more eggs and more meat. Why shouldn't I demand more from you for that?"

"Because I could-" you lick your lips nervously as the images of Curtis filling you with his seed take over your conflicted mind.

"Oh, I know." Curtis confirms, his undertone betraying a strong desire for that exact outcome.

There were more unfinished counter arguments on your tongue, but somehow they are discarded as you end up in your small bedroom, pinned down to the bed by Curtis' massive form.

You always seemed exceptionally big, which you assumed was also the effect of many layers of clothing, but fully naked he still looks intimidatingly broad. It's a rarity when the remnants of human population were mostly malnourished.

He crowds you, overpowers you, but there's a newfound thrill to be under him.

Curtis takes you in deep, slow strokes, stretching this pleasure into a maddening experience that has you gushing around him.

He growls into your ear how good you feel, how well you take him and how you will take his seed.

As he speeds up, his own voice tattering as his breath quickens too, Curtis groans a mysterious to you confession that he took lives, but now he will give life.

Cumming inside you once doesn't sate him. He flips you onto your stomach and takes you prone bone, hard and primal. Keeps filling you full until the dawn, when he falls asleep with you tucked to his side.

From now on he's always taking you bare. Frequently, not only when he comes for food.

By the time your belly rounds, the forest between the compound and your cottage is cut down. New settlement buildings rise and your little place becomes a part of Curtis' growing kingdom.

You are branded his, as well.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

The Price of Loyalty (Curtis Everett One Shot)

Summary: Curtis finally apprehends you for betraying him.

Warnings: death

WC: 823

Read on Ao3

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--

Curtis Everett wasn’t a man easily crossed. He ruled his empire with an iron fist, sharp eyes hidden beneath his well-tailored suits. His hands might’ve once been clean, but the years of bloodshed, deals made in the dead of night, and alliances bought had left invisible stains on them. He was known for his cold, calculating demeanour, yet anyone who knew Curtis knew that loyalty meant everything to him.

That was why the betrayal hurt so much.

The opulent penthouse office was eerily quiet, save for the ticking of a wall clock that mocked the tension brewing in the room. Curtis sat behind his sleek black desk, his fingers lightly tapping on its surface. In front of him stood Jude, his most trusted lieutenant, the man he had practically raised in this life.

Curtis stared at her for what felt like an eternity, the words he had just spoken hanging heavy in the air. She couldn't meet her boss’s eyes.

"How could you betray me?" Curtis's voice was steady but laced with an undercurrent of disbelief and fury. His blue eyes bore into her with the weight of a thousand unspoken threats.

"I—" her voice cracked as she finally looked up. Her eyes were full of guilt, but beneath that, something more dangerous lurked—regret. "I didn’t want it to end like this."

Curtis stood up slowly, the leather of his chair creaking softly. "End like this?" He repeated, his tone cold. "You should've known this would never end well for you, Y/N."

Her shoulders sagged under the weight of Curtis's words. "It wasn't supposed to happen. I never meant for them to get hurt, Curtis, I swear. But they made me choose."

Curtis stepped around the desk, circling her like a predator stalking its prey. "Choose?" He spat the word out like poison. "You chose the enemy. You sold out our entire operation—for what? Money? Power? What could they offer you that I couldn’t?"

She winced as Curtis’s voice grew more venomous with each word. The truth was, she had never intended to betray Curtis. She had never wanted to. But the other family had made promises, threats. They had leverage, and she had been cornered.

"I thought I could control it," she admitted quietly. "I thought if I just gave them what they wanted, we could still—"

"Still what?!" Curtis's voice was suddenly thunderous, reverberating off the walls. His patience snapped, and he grabbed Jude by the collar, pulling him close. "Still play pretend? Still act like you’re loyal while stabbing me in the back?"

Her breath hitched. She had seen Curtis angry before, but this was different. This was personal.

"I didn’t mean for it to go this far," she whispered, eyes darting to the side. Curtis’s grip on her collar tightened.

"Look at me," Curtis ordered. She hesitated, then forced her gaze back to the man she had called boss—and family—for years. Curtis’s expression was unreadable now; his rage tempered into something even more dangerous: cold resolve.

"They took everything from us, Curtis," She pleaded. "Our shipment, our money, our intel—they would’ve killed me. They had everything on me."

"And now I have nothing on you." Curtis’s voice was low, almost a whisper. The betrayal was etched into every syllable.

For a moment, silence hung in the air like smoke. Curtis let go of her and stepped back. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. He had known about the leak in his operation for weeks but had never suspected her, not until tonight when the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. Now, Curtis had a choice to make.

Her eyes widened when Curtis reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gleaming silver revolver. "Curtis, wait—"

"No more excuses, babes." Curtis’s finger hovered over the trigger. "You chose them over me. There’s only one way this ends."

She took a shaky step back, desperation filling her voice. "I never stopped being loyal to you. I did what I had to survive. I thought you would understand!"

Curtis’s jaw clenched, but he hesitated for just a moment, memories of their years together flashing before him. He had saved her more times than he could count, brought her up in the business, and treated her like a family. But this… this was unforgivable.

"Understand?" Curtis said quietly, raising the gun. "No, Y/N. Loyalty is a two-way street."

The gunshot echoed through the room like the closing of a chapter. She crumpled to the ground, lifeless eyes staring at Curtis. The silence that followed was deafening.

Curtis stood still for a long time, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily in his chest. He holstered the gun, turning away from the body. There was no time for remorse, no time to mourn the man he once called family.

In the mafia, betrayal was the highest sin. And Curtis Everett was not a man to forgive.

[georgiapeach30513]

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.”

Next

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[eccentricallygothic]

|| Fiddle ||

Description: Curtis is a soldier from lands far away. Curtis loves to tease you. Curtis is a jerk. Curtis is your husband. You do your best to deny Curtis' existence. Curtis doesn't mind. Because Curtis knows you are a fiddle to his touch, whether you like to admit it or not.  

Pairing: Soft-Dark Army Chief!Curtis Everett | Spoiled Crown Princess!You. 

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

Warning(s): Soft-Dark Curtis, he's kinda crusty dusty, forced/arranged marriage, power imbalance, fluffy smut with dark undertones that gets rough, groping, making out, dumbification, degradation, self degradation, ddlg undertones, he's intimidating, pet names, infantilization, play fighting, m!dom, f!sub, unprotected p-in-v intercourse, cock riding, overstimulation, doggy style fucking, spanking, choking, hair pulling, he's a man. 

Note: Was gonna post a Sy thing tonight but it's not done yet and I am extremely tired so here's a little Curtis piece I did the other day.

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Curtis' eyes are closed as he leans his head against the edge of the tub, his huge body relaxed in the warm water while a content smile tugs at his lips. There is nowhere in this whole wide world that he would rather be than in this moment right here; relaxed after a long day of hard work and in the proximity of his dear lady. The contemptuous voice of said lady, although hostile, is music to his ears as it rings in the distance between them while she begrudgingly rubs away at one of the many dirt spots on his body with the use of a soft sponge. 

"Ugh, what do I, The Crown Princess, get?!" You are muttering to yourself like a typical naggy wife. "A fuckin–" your words lock in your throat automatically when your husband's eyebrows furrow in disapproval. "A frickin' no name foreign soldier!" You hate how he doesn't even have to open his eyes to get you to correct yourself. "While all my stupid friends– stay still!" You reprimand when one of his arms that you had extended in your direction to scrub the grime off of begins to get antsy in your lap for the sole purpose of annoying you.

Curtis chuckles and that irks you even more, as if your tiara placed on the opposite side of the tub on a little stool for whatever reason glinting at you isn't enough. 

Your husband is a jerk and he's probably rubbing your nose in the fact that despite being all-powerful after your father The King, you still have to bathe his stupid dirty body like a common wife. 

Ugh, you hate him.

"I am sorry, my love."

But you can't protest in the way that you want. 

Because your stupid father had issued a decree upon your arranged union to him. That you would only be able to keep your crown if you stayed true to your husband and kept him happy. Otherwise, the Army Chief -a stupid title held by your idiot of a husband- could usurp your future throne and do with the kingdom -and you- as he pleased. 

You hated it. 

But you loved your position more. 

However, your rascal of a husband made it even harder for you to stand him and keep up with the bargain when he asked of you cringy domestic services that made you want to punch him square in the jaw. 

But alas! 

How powerful is a damsel against her knight in shining armor? 

You continue when you have made sure that he won't try and reach for your breasts now. "... While all my stupid friends got to have dukes and nobles and aristocrats, I get a crusty dusty baldy from who knows where!" You hate how your boobs hang from the neck of your dress. 

Your depraved husband had them make a whole new wardrobe for you after your wedding. 

And the fittings and cuts on your home gowns made you want to kick him. 

He further irritates you when he lazily splashes some water on you in a playful fashion. You click your tongue at him and widen your eyes in warning even though he can't see you as you pinch his arm. "Stop it, baldy! Do you even know how long it takes to wash and style hair? Exactly!" You glanced at his buzzed head. "Stop splashing your stupid grimy water on–" you gasp, fully offended now as he remains unbothered with his eyes still comfortably shut. Water drips down your nose due to the hefty handful of the soapy water that he has just hurled right onto your face. 

"You–!" You toss the sponge into the tub angrily as you reach for his face with your claws. "You are DONE! I will end you today– AHH!" You screech when he manhandles you quicker than you can process it. The only thing you see is him opening his intelligent blue eyes before he gathers your offending hands in one of his much bigger, rougher ones and the arm that you had been cleaning wraps around your waist before you are pulled into the water. 

… You are in utter disbelief.

Your mouth falls open in shock as your eyes clench shut to suppress your rage. "How's this?" Your jaw ticks at his cocky tone. Warm water helps itself into your heavy gown and you're getting drenched by the second. You don't even struggle to try and get out because you are all too familiar with the unrelenting quality of the vice grip that he has placed on you. 

You stay quiet for a bit and just let yourself simmer in your rage while you try to think of all the reasons why you shouldn't lose your shit. 

But your husband is insufferable.

"Figured you could use some cleaning up too after a long, hard day of sulking around in luxury and jewels inside the castle" that seems to set you off in an autopilot and you begin to vehemently try and shake him off. But it's impossible to do so in the hold he has you in and that makes you even more passionate towards your resolve.

The bathwater goes splashing all around as you grunt and groan, wheezing a few seconds in by the struggle you have to put forth. Your eyebrows crease together indignantly and you kick your legs hard, pathetically weaseling against his chest with your hands locked above your head.

Curtis is no more than amused while you fume. He wordlessly holds you down with adoration in his pale blue eyes as a soft smile tugging at his bearded lips. He remains quiet and soundless until you open your mouth and then he's laughing at you. 

"Unhand me, fiend!" What? You read that in your literature lessons recently and thought it sounded cool. 

"Oh," your husband begins to shift forwards to press you against the edge of the opposite end of the tub, "but the big bad fiend fancies himself some little princess now" that's another thing you hate. 

He always tells you you're too small for big girl things and that's why you need to be taken care of. That that was also one of the reasons behind your father getting you, his only child, married to a man like him. 

That you needed a firm hand in your life that only he could provide.  

Absolutely absurd, right?! 

"I AM NOT LITT–" you suddenly freeze amid your struggle because your eyes have subconsciously flickered down to his pink chapped lips while his breath fans your mouth. You can't decide whether it's the way Curtis' chest firmly presses against yours or the way he has your arms suspended above your head in such a… big way that you inch your head upwards and mindlessly meet his lips, way too carried away by the memories of how good they feel to be rational.

As always.

The hungry way in which he kisses you back takes your breath away and both of you begin to claw and grope at each other everywhere you can like you are lovers who have met after being parted for years. The brawling couple is nowhere to be found, for a different kind of tussle has been initiated. 

Your access to him is less complicated and more pleasant because he's completely bare. But the way Curtis growls when he's kissing the length of your neck and the lovebites that he likes to leave on your tender skin indicates that he does not appreciate the barrier of your skirts between himself and you. 

"Up" he separates his lips from your jaw that he now nibbles at just enough to husk out his order. You quickly obey as you feel your arousal fill your already drenched undergarments, deciding that fighting could come later. You had the rest of your lives to do that, after all. Not that you liked to admit it when you weren't about to mount his cock. 

Curtis sits back and pulls you on his toned thighs to have no hassle access to you. You whine and grind yourself against his erection as he peels all your clothes off hurriedly, occasionally grunting under his breath when you get too rough because of your need. 

"Come here" he keeps your jewelry on but pulls and tears away everything else. Picking up your extravagant tiara from the stool, he places it on your head and you can't help but clench before rocking your hips harder against his. 

It's a silent assertion. 

An act of dominance. 

A paradox. 

You could wear the crown and have all the power in the Kingdom over every single person but your husband. 

Curtis was your regulator; your owner. 

The real master. 

You were the silly little puppet that he controlled with his cock.  

And while it never fails to offend you later, it always makes you even wetter when your bare body is pressed up against his. 

You whimper to yourself as realization dawns upon you; was this why he had the tiara placed here in his reach when you started? Did he know this was coming? Was this supposed to happen? Had your husband tricked you into becoming the wanton little thing that he always made out of you? 

You whine with a timid shake of your head as you place your hands on his broad shoulders to signal him to not move when he goes to place you under him. "W- Wanna ride…" You mumble like a baby and the tenderness of your tone has him roughly inhaling before he grabs your ass and squeezes it harshly, forcing your straddle to widen against him.

"Sure you can take it on your own, honey?" Even in your submissive state, you roll your eyes before puffing your flushed cheeks and that's how Curtis knows you are the one for him. 

"I think I know how to ride my husband's dick, thank you very much" he snorts.

"Oh, so now I am your husband, huh?" You groan and clamp one of your hands around his teasing grin as you reach into the water to position his tip against yourself. 

"I swear, you're so fuck– ow, Curty!" Your eyebrows rush to meet as you let out a high pitched throaty whine.

"Language" he warns dangerously as he glares up at where you're suddenly hugging his shoulders sensitively so his face is between your boobs. 

The combination of the apex of his dick twitching against you along with a punishing smack resounding against your wet ass had been too much for you to handle. 

You were just a fragile little baby, after all. 

"S- Sorry…" Your knees shake as you remain propped up on the top of his cock, too stuck around his monstrous girth to sink down and too needy to let go. "P- Please help, Curty" he has to raise one of his thick, dark eyebrows at that. 

"But I thought you were a big girl who knew how to ride her man's cock" shame nibbled at your blushing cheeks. 

"N- No… n- not big, Curty. P- Please… n- need you so bad" you uncomfortably shifted on the top of his cock. "P- Please help…" He hummed as he let one of his hands roughly fondle your ass cheeks, his beard feeling the soft cushions of your boobs. 

"Are you saying that you admit that you are my dumb little girl who can't do anything on her own and needs me for everything?" You nod so he moves you down but stops halfway to torture you just that bit more. "Say it" the slap he lands on your butt causes your cheeks to jiggle feverishly and you arch your back at the pain with a loud whine. 

"I- I…" You clench needily around him and feel yourself getting wetter at how great that one thick vein of his cock feels around your walls. "I admit t- that I am a stupid little girl and I can't do a- anything on my own–" you have to pause to recollect your breaking voice, the tension in your band of muscles that his rock hard cock stretches forming knots in the base of your stomach. "A- And that I need m- my hubby for everything" Curtis hums and he finally rests his back against the tub again as his hands aid your movements up and down his cock to get you to adjust to him. 

"Now thank me" you clench and feel your toes curl when he begins to pay attention to your erect boobs and his beard scratches the skin, chapped lips grazing your nubs in a way you can only describe as pleasurable. 

"Thank you!" It is breathless and erotic in tone as your hands curl around his shoulders. "Thank you for h- helping me, hubby" your hips start to work on their own now, the water that is beginning to turn cold splashing down on the floor as you slide yourself up and down his hard cock. 

"Wouldn't have been able to do it on your own, huh baby?" Curtis' teeth are sharp around one particular nipple that he had neglected the last time he was on you -which was a night before the last- and now he began his addictive mix of sucking and biting at the bud so you would be reminded of him every time anything brushed against it. 

"N- No, hubby…" The fact that your nails are digging into his hard pale skin -that doesn't get tanned no matter what, much to your confusion- but it doesn't seem to bother him as he rams up into you each time you land on his balls makes you reach for your pussy only for your hand to be smacked away. 

Uh oh.

It's a rule; your body belongs to Curtis and only he gets to touch it.

"And why is that?" Your vision gets dizzy as his tip begins to collide with your spongy bundle of sensitive nerves now, his girth having finally parted your walls enough. 

You feel yourself in a daze as you gasp down at him, one of your hands mindlessly stroking his sharp features. Curtis' body is the most stunning contrast of light and dark. His skin is white as snow -almost as though he has been carved out of frost itself- and his thick hair is nearly black. He hasn't yet disclosed to you his origins or the backstories of the many scars that litter his body. But the menace with which he wields a weapon -though he prefers not to be a soldier around you, unappreciative of you ever showing up on the field or anywhere near it- and the way your father trusts him with all of your lives sends the faintest chill of realization down your spine. 

Your husband is not as simple as the Kingdom Protector that he makes himself out to be. 

Because the ruthless way in which he shot down the person who tried to abduct you when you tried to flee your wedding makes you wonder if you even want to find out just what you open your legs to everytime you can. 

Or he wants. 

"Hm?" Curtis pulls you out of your fear inducing reverie. "Answer the question and I'll give it to you, baby" you feel your tiara slip to one side and go crooked on your wet hair when he gives you a particularly hard thrust. 

"Ugghhhheeee!" You gurgle as you throw your head back because of how he bites your nipple at the same time. You rake your mind to remember where you were, clenching hard around him when it does come back. "B- Because I am too d- dumb and my l- little pussy is too small to handle you all by myself, hubby" the profane words that would usually sting you tongue and appall you only further add to the pressure building between your hips.

You're so close.

Curtis growls and the way he begins to fuck up your pussy indicates that it's taking all of him not to change position and plunder you into the ground. 

But he never refuses the wishes of his Princess. 

His fingers finally creep to where you need him most. "That's fuckin' right" a loud moan escapes you when his thumb begins to swipe up and down your clit. "So remember that the next time you wanna argue with your man who works hard in the hot dirty field all day long so you can be a pretty little Princess in a protected Kingdom" your whole body is on fire despite the water that surrounds you. You're wet, dirty, desperate and on the very edge, the stimulation on your clit pulling at the knots in your stomach harder and harder. You're incoherent with your pleas and praises but Curtis isn't quite finished with you just yet. A firm tap thumps against the side of your head condescending as he readjusts your tiara. "Tell me you'll remember it" before he wraps his muscular arm around your waist to pull you closer again.

"I'll remember it, hubby!" You throw your head back as pleasure erupts up your womb and everywhere in your body. Your knees give out but you keep slamming yourself up and down his dick animalistically like a cock drunk nymph, placing your hands on the edges of the tub and using the grip to help move yourself. "Thank you so much!" Your ears are numb and hot, vision full of stars and neon shapes as you feel your breasts jiggle in a humiliating manner but you are too far gone to care.  

Your heart is still erratic and your hips haven't completely stopped moving when he decides to take back all the reigns of control. 

Being the simpleton that you are, you fail to realize that your husband didn't come. But that's okay. Curtis understands; little Princesses like you don't know anything but selfishness. 

It's a good thing he's a taker. 

"My turn" he breathily whispers in your ear when you have somewhat calmed down and now tiredly rest against his chest while lazily moving yourself on his cock. 

"... H- Huh?" 

A loud groan of protest escapes you when he suddenly rotates you on his cock like it's your axis, shifting onto his knees and moving you towards the opposite end of the tub. You open your eyes to see him placing your hands around the edge of the tub to hold on to, the realization of what he is about to do you causing your eyes to nearly fall out of their sockets as you sputter, too confused and fucked out to say anything substantial. 

Not that your husband would listen anyways. 

That is another rule; you are never to deprive him of anything, yourself being the top of the list of said things. 

Curtis adjusts your tiara again as he moves back to wrap his hands around your thighs to both handle you better and keep your legs that are trying to clamp together wide open for him. 

"Oh!" Your pussy clenches in defense when he begins to thrust into you.

And he isn't gentle about it either. 

"Tsk, comparing me, a husband who serves his wife with his blood and sweat to those sissy elites who have never seen a day of hard work in their lives and only know their fancy words" one of his hands pull back to come rapping down on your ass, causing you to jump with a loud whine, the action causing him to groan as well as it sends vibrations up his cock. "Well you know what, my dear?" He pulls you back by your hair to whisper in your ear. "If it comes to it, do you think those dukes and nobles and aristocrats of yours will be able to protect the honor of their ward like I did?" Fuck, another orgasm is about to force itself out of you due to the sensitive condition of your pussy. "Huh?!" Another slap has you yelling out a response as you get rammed like nothing more than a common whore.

"N- No, hubby! I am sorry, hubby!"

"You better fuckin' be" Curtis sounds fatally dangerous as he holds you to him by a new grip he has placed on the curve of your pussy from behind. "No real man ever wants the name of another on his wife's tongue" his balls clap against your ass in the most erotic way you've ever known. "Don't take my affections for granted" he begins to toy with your folds just to torture you that much more. "You're too spoiled and stupid to handle me when I get pissed, honey." 

He is breathless as he empties his load into you, cursing when the hot burst of thick liquid causes you to fall over again and you clench around him due to the sensitivity. "Look at this, baby" one of his rough hands clamp around your throat as he bends over you to fuck you harder, holding one of your thighs over his arm to allow himself deeper access. "You can't even breathe without my permission… how fucking cute" your lungs burn for air and your brain melts.

"Yes, hubby…" Is the only thing you can hear yourself muttering through the numbness as your body rocks back and forth. You can swear you knock out a couple times as your husband thoroughly fucks his orgasm out and into you. 

Then he pulls you in his arms and against his chest when he is done. 

"My hair…" His cock is hot inside your cavern as you cuddle into his chest, having been turned around again as the two of you snuggle now. 

Curtis has always told you that it's very pretty, just like all your other features. "What about it?" Your husband's own breathing is heavy as he reaches to push it out of your face. Your tiara is long gone and forgotten after it went missing during the fuck. 

"The soapy water ruined it…" You softly pout up at him. 

"I mean…" The warm and blissed out expression in his eyes is evidence that he doesn't agree nor care. Your beauty is something he always compliments with no hesitation and complete honesty. You are the prettiest sight my eyes have ever had the pleasure of beholding. It makes you roll your eyes everytime. "We can be the baldies, the two of us, hm?" You huff and glance at the ceiling tiredly. "The… baldy couple…?" He imitates the way you say it in your exact accent and you can't help but push weakly at his chest to express your dislike. "I mean," Curtis is grinning now. Uh oh, that can't be good, it never is. "Bet the tiara would look even cuter on your shiny cueball head–"

"YOU'RE SO OBSCENE, UGH!" He doesn't mind the childish fist that you land on his shoulder only to whine because his skin is too hard for your pampered little hand. 

Curtis snorts as he reaches for your hurting hand and kisses the top of it before slowly standing up with you safely tucked in his huge arms. "Only for you, honey" before he carefully removes you from his cock and hauls you over his shoulder, smacking your ass to make you squeak as he walks to the shower to get the now grimy bathwater off of the two of you. 

Your head maid shakes her head from outside your chambers as she motions for the rest of your helpers to excuse you for the day. It wouldn't be until morning that anyone would be able to get you two off of each other. 

"The Princess pretends like she doesn't know the Chief but he is the only one who has ever made her so… soft" one of the girls that basically grew up with you and was one of your good friends giggled shyly. 

"That's because she's a fiddle for the Chief, whether she wants to admit it or not" the other one rolls her eyes as they walk away from the group. 

"Perhaps that's what a comfortable marriage is" your friend muses aloud as the two girls turn the corner towards their quarters. "Being hopeless fiddles for each other in our own ways."

It was true, for it was not one sided by any means.

.

[steviebbboi]

His Little Gem

Pairing: BandMember!Curtis x F!LeadSinger!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k~ highkey relieved that im able to write a shorter lengthed story this time lol

Summary: You and Curtis finally have a moment alone. Though, it turns out that Curtis actually loves the attention.

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @mercurial-chuckles writing challenge, "Smutty September Fest"~ Thank you lad for hosting this, and hoping that everyone enjoys this as much I loved writing it.

I also wrote this as a part of my eventual Bandmember!Curtis series from this poll. However, you can absolutely read this as a standalone.

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't demureeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; HIGHKEY its PWP but plot nonetheless, explicit sex/smut, p in v sex, oral sex (f! receiving), slight exhibitionism kink, praise kink, squirting, explicit language, slight/mild dumbification, slight/mild degradation kink, pussy slapping, dacryphilia kink, manhandling soft dom! curtis, slight overstimulation play, secret and established relationship btwn curtis and Reader. nickname for Reader is Sapphire/gem. if i missed anything, pls feel free to lmk~

Prompts Used: 2) sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and spot them; 5) body worshipping

A/N: ~I really appreciate ya'll for interacting with my fics! It's so cool to know that my writing resonates and is enjoyed by many. That said, it's common for fic writers to face huge ratio disparities with likes/reblogs. If you could kindly reblog my work as you enjoy it, that would be much appreciated! Reblogging gets our work out there for more folx to enjoy and genuinely encourages us to continue writing. It's a conflict on here for a reason -- know that this is said with much sincerity and kindness. Support writers please~

Tongues caressed each other in a greedy yet languid dance, your lips meeting Curtis’ so passionately as you both rode the high of finally having a moment alone together. 

“Mmph, God, I missed you, sapphire.” Curtis mumbled against your plush lips. His tongue eagerly lapped at yours as you whimpered in response.

Just registering his words, your laugh was muffled against his pressing mouth, “Miss me? Curt, we see each other everyday.” Another giggle attempted to escape but Curtis was skilled at keeping you distracted at this point.

His lips were still enthusiastically leaning in for more as small giggles escaped you, “I missed being with you. Your lips, your body pressed against mine. Especially, when I get to feel you like this.” He said emphatically as he dragged his calloused palms up your thighs and around till he was able to gain a desperate grip on your ass. 

You both moaned as Curtis groped you roughly, one of his hands leaving your ass only to land a loud slap against your pert cheek. You squealed playfully into his mouth while Curtis groaned deeply and did it again. 

Your short mini skirt was ruched around your hips as you rocked your center into the hardening tent in his jeans. Even through the fabric of your panties, which was dampening by the second, Curtis could feel the warmth of your wet pussy just seeping into the denimed layer covering his hard cock. 

Lips separating for a moment to allow the both of you to catch your breaths, Curtis looked at you darkly through his long eyelashes and grabbed your hips to slowly grind your pussy across his stiff member. 

Whining in response, your head tilted back in pleasure, giving Curtis the opportunity to leave lavish kisses all across the side of your neck. You felt your hips stutter as his wet lips sucked at that sensitive spot right underneath your ear. His tongue licked against your pulse, and your breathing started to get heavier as he continued sucking at your fragrant skin. 

“Curt–Curtis, the window…” You drawled out mindlessly as he continued laying kisses on your throat. His stubble made your skin red and blotchy and it stung so beautifully as his mouth balanced the pain with pleasure.

His back to the large window, you were straddling Curtis’ lap on the couch facing the city skyline in your penthouse condo. Only faint lights from other people’s apartments could be seen. If you focused hard enough, you could clearly see neighbors in buildings across from you eating dinner, or watching tv. 

As clearly as you could see them, you’re sure that you and Curtis could be visibly seen, even though the only thing that illuminated both of your silhouettes was the living room lamp casting a warm glow on your pressed and writhing bodies. 

“What about it, baby?” Curtis asks, just as mindless as you were at this point. His thoughts and senses were all enveloped around you.  

You could only gasp for air as one of his hands left your ass to grip onto and tug on your hair roughly, allowing such an erotic moan to leave your pillowy lips. His grip that remained on your ass only squeezed tighter when he heard your response. 

“God, -phire, you’re killing me. C’mere.” He used the hand at the base of your skull to push your swollen lips back onto his impatient ones. You whimpered into his mouth again as his soft tongue reunited with yours with a passion that felt so matched. Curtis was the only person that you have been with that has ever been able to make you feel this way. So unruly, excited, fiery, and intense. 

You both acknowledged the energy between you in your own ways since you have met.  Whether it was Curtis’ soft grasp around your waist navigating the paps outside the recording studio, or your hand gripping onto the inside of his elbow as you were in between stage sets. 

Safe and protected was how you ultimately felt when you were with Curtis. Combining that with being the best sex of your life, you felt invincible. He made you feel that way, and you liked being his Sapphire.

Even now as the rough texture of his hands, worn from years of playing, tugged on the sides of your lace panties down around your knees. He manhandled you onto your back as you giggled again, he ripped your panties from your legs completely. Curtis kneeled between your open legs, his shadowed eyes maintaining eye contact with your hooded ones. One hand gripped the outside of your ankle gently as he pressed his lips against your soft skin. 

You let out a soft gasp as his tender touch. He was slowly kissing up towards your center, his kisses getting wetter the closer that he got. A quiet whimper left your lips as Curtis left another wet kiss on your hip bone, and moved to kiss above your aching mound. The anticipation felt so strong - you released a bothered keen when Curtis didn’t land his lips on the correct destination, but instead, decided to lower down towards your other leg’s inner thigh and down towards the inside of your bent knee. 

“Curtis, please, kiss me.” You begged him with your eyes burning with frustrated tears.

Curtis laughed meanly as he responded, “I am kissing you, sapphire.”

You sobbed out a frustrated moan, “Ugh, you know what I mean – please! It’s been too long.” 

Curtis issued a low hum in agreement as he continued leaving soft kitten kisses on the inside of your knee, only moving slightly upwards towards your inner thigh and back down. His hands slowly caressed your legs in the places that his lips couldn’t touch. “Oh, I know, pretty girl. But that’s what makes this so fun for me.” 

A tear fell down the side of your face, as you sniffled your discontent at his pleasurable cruelty. Curtis knew your limits and knew that you would’ve said your safe word some time ago if you really wanted him to stop the slow approaches on your body. You both knew that Curtis teasing you was the build up that your body and mind needed. You needed to lose yourself a little bit in order to be fully present and attuned with the pleasurable sensations that Curtis will start and leave you with. 

Curtis cooed at you as he saw your distressed tears leave your eyes. “Aw, my little gem is frustrated, huh?” 

You nodded your assent with another sniffle as you looked into his bright eyes burning with a palpable affection and need for you. Seeing that glint in his eyes only made you cry a little harder and swallow down another sob, as you also missed Curtis when you were just like this. Him between your legs, gazing at you with such impassioned eyes that just landed so intensely. Your body burned so good, you couldn’t really handle it. 

“Okay, okay, sapphire. God, you’re so pretty when you cry, fuck.” Curtis moaned for you as he leaned up so that his face was over yours. His lips landed a wet and thorough kiss upon your deprived mouth. You continued to passionately make out for another minute as Curtis stripped you of your tee and lace bra. But he left the small mini skirt on all bunched up around the curve of your waist. His hands were free to roam the rest of your soft, aching body, spending time around your breasts to squeeze and pinch at your perky nipples. 

“I’ll give you what you need, my pretty baby, I got you.” He whispered against your open mouth as he drifted down to kiss at your neck briefly before enveloping his lips around your hard nipple. You inhaled air sharply at the feeling of his soft tongue swirling around the hardened nub while his other hand fondled at your other breast. The contrast of his warm, wet, soft tongue on one nipple and his gravelly touch on the other felt so euphoric. 

The need for him was just building bigger and bigger deep inside of you as he continued laving at your nipples. He alternated his kisses and touch on both of your breasts. You were also starkly aware of the fact that he was still fully clothed as the fabric of his jeans felt so good against your plush exposed skin. You moaned louder at the realization and your hips writhed up against his cloth covered chest. 

“Curtis, Curtis – fuck, I-I think I’m gonna–agh!” All of a sudden, the knot that was building deep in your stomach just unraveled as you came hard. Your pussy clenched around nothing as Curtis just made you cum from just playing with your tits. Curtis groaned deeply as he felt your wetness spread on his skin as your pussy dampened the layer of his shirt.  

He released his steady sucking of your nipples to look up at your pleasure-filled expression, your eyes dropped with soft satisfaction and sleepiness as you caught your breath. 

“Mmm, you’re such a good girl for me, little gem. Your body is so responsive - one of the things that I love about you.” Curtis praised as you released a chirp, his affirmations landed so well on your sated body.

“Wanna continue feeling good, baby?” He said as he finally lowered himself to land his lingering eyes upon your pulsing cunt. You nodded slowly while biting your lip, almost dumbly, as he used his thumb to cut the layer of stringy wetness that covered your pussy.

“Even your pussy cries for me, huh? So sweet,” he groaned while he licked up the first layer of your wetness. You moaned at the feeling of his moist tongue finally lapping at your weepy cunt. Your hips squirmed at the feeling but Curtis quickly used his strong arms to keep your hips down and legs wide open. 

He moaned at the taste of you and spent time firmly and slowly licking around the area of your clit. You released a high pitched moan when you felt his tongue maintaining steady pressure and swirling around your sensitive spot. You bit your lip to quiet down, feeling a bit embarrassed by your reactiveness.

It was like Curtis could sense your deliberate muffling and he released your swollen button only to land a sharp slap against your soaked pussy. You squealed at the sudden sensation and groaned deeply as his lips found your clit shortly after to weather the sudden pain. 

Your whimpers quieted down again but Curtis proceeded to smack your pussy again with a determined low groan. Before he landed another suck at your puffy clit, he said, “Don’t hide your pleasure from me, sapphire. Don’t ever do that with me, got it?” He landed another sharp slap with the flat of his hand and tapped at your clit in quick taps while you quite literally answered his demand with unfiltered and resonant moans. 

He sucked your clit back in his mouth and made quick laps and motions directly on it. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you gripped the back of his buzz cut head with need. The feeling of his tongue just sliding against you so swiftly and with wild abandon released your second orgasm of the night, in complete bliss as you abandoned any sense of being quiet. 

The both of you breathed heavily as you attempted to catch your breath once more. You looked down slowly at Curtis to see him still gazing at your drenched pussy. Your cum covered his mouth and beard in a light sheen, and his lips looked pink and swollen as he licked the remaining slick from them sensually. 

You whined again tiredly as you knew what that look meant. Curtis was obsessed with eating you out. It was like everytime that he tasted you, he couldn’t help himself from trying to get more and more from you. 

“Curtis, please, I need your cock inside of me.” Your timidness disappeared as you interrupted his thoughts on going back in for seconds. 

Curtis slapped your still twitching pussy again as you panted out responsive, high-pitched moans, so overstimulated that you could feel the knot in your tummy tighten again as you tried to writhe away from his calloused grip. 

“No, no, sweet girl, you’re not going anywhere, c’mere–  I haven’t had enough of this messy pussy yet, you’re still gushing for me.” Curtis groaned into your wet mound as he roughly manhandled you to sit up on your knees. 

You whimpered at his dirty words and at his rough touch as he bent you forward and adjusted you to lean your forearms on the tops of your couch, facing the window. But now, instead of just your face being visible to the night sky, your breasts hung seductively and your hair was mussed from your throes of pleasure. With Curtis kneeling behind you, it was obvious that you were not just star-gazing into the open city. 

“Wa-wait, Curtis, the people…” you said hesitantly while you turned your head slightly to look back at him.

Curtis found the hesitance in your eyes but also found that eagerness that you had at the thought of being seen. He knew what you really wanted, and he needed to give it to you. His eyes hardened into something dominating as he quickly leaned over your arched back to grip and tug at your hair again. You moaned as your head tilted back with his grip to alleviate the sharp pain. 

You felt Curtis’ warm breath at your ear as he whispered lowly, “They could never have you anyways, sapphire. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Let them look.”

He released the grip on your hair as you mewled a greedy assent. He placed a demanding hand on the back of your neck so that you faced forward, eyes directly meeting other light-filled rooms with a gaze so turned on, you knew that you wouldn’t let him take you any other way. 

You gasped out for another gulp of air when you felt his tongue lapping at your cunt from behind. Your back arched in delight and your ass pushed back into his insatiable mouth. It didn’t take long for you to reach your inevitable end as Curtis was ruthless in his meal. 

You swallowed heavily as your mouth dried from how loud you were moaning. Your eyes widened as you cried out at the sensation of the tip of Curtis’ large cock catching at the inside of your sopping pussy. Hips pushing back against his cock to get him further inside of you, Curtis slapped your ass and whispered a mellowed, “patience, baby.”

Feeling your facial features twist into something needy, you gasped again– but not at the feeling of Curtis’ teasing cock, but at the sight of a person leaning against their apartment balcony that faced you. You weren’t close enough to make out any features other than a bodied silhouette, but you were suddenly so aware that if he tilted his head a bit upwards, he would also be able to make out yours and Curtis’ moving bodies. 

You felt Curtis dip his mushroom head inside of you further but not pushing all the way in. Your eyes rolled briefly again at the feeling of your walls aching to tense around the girth of his wide cock as you tried to gain enough sense to communicate. With gritted teeth, you moaned, “Fuck, there’s someone out there, Curtis.” There was a part of you conscious of someone looking up and finding you and Curtis just fucking, being splattered all over the front page of tabloids. 

Curtis gave his own pussy-drunk response with a mindless “huh?” and looked towards where your head was pointed. Laughing darkly, he just said, “Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep an eye out, baby. Or don’t–  either way, I’m still gonna fuck you till I get my fill, or until you eventually pass out from being all drunk on my cock.”

At the end of his possessive words, Curtis swiped his length at the wetness of your pussy before sliding in slow and deep. You keened loudly at the feel of him so deep inside of you, your walls accommodated him so snugly from how wet you were. 

Curtis dropped his head back in absolute bliss as he gripped onto your bunched skirt for a better grip. Looking down at your deprived body, the image of his hands using a pinched piece of fabric as leverage to thrust back against his penetrating cock made him moan wildly. 

“Fuck, you really are my gem, baby. Pussy was made for my cock, gripping me so tight, fuuuck.” He said as he thrusted in and out, still moaning out his pleasure at the feeling of you. 

You felt your skirt digging into the soft swell of your tummy as Curtis pulled you back onto his piercing cock. There were so many sensations running through you, both Curtis’ degrading words and the thought of just being fucked by him like a rag doll, like he was just using you turned you on so good. You could feel your body getting limper and your eyes were no longer trained on the person standing in their balcony. 

You quietly whimpered your contentment at getting fucked by Curtis, your mouth was agape as his thrusts were getting faster and harder. Leaning even lower onto the top of the couch, your body arched into an angle that allowed Curtis’ wide cock to hit you at a different angle that made you keen and gasp again. 

Curtis felt that patch of skin inside you that felt different from your inner walls and grunted in efforts of meeting it with every thrust. You gasped and moaned wildly at the feeling of him thrusting against your g-spot, and felt the sensation of another orgasm rushing in, “Yes! Yes! Please, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, Curtis, please!” you sobbed loudly while you rested your limp head on the couch near your aching arms.

Curtis seared the image of your soft and pliant body just letting him use you and growled out, “Cum for me, pretty baby. You’re taking my cock so well, my little gem. I knew you could– cum for me.” He thrusted harder at the anticipation of your sweet cunt tightening around him, the visuals and excitement of what was to come was enough for him to chase after his own release. The sensations of your wet cunt and feeling of your soft body under his well-practiced hands made him feral for you everytime.

Feeling so worshiped and desired, getting his permission to cum felt like a privilege as your head dropped further into a deep, fuzzy mental space. Your pussy squirted around his still thrusting cock as you sighed and moaned your intense pleasure.

Curtis only groaned deeply at finally feeling your velvet walls tighten against his shaft, and the sight of your squirt spilling and squelching out of you only made him feel the sensations even more. He released another guttural moan as he thrusted deeply inside of you, no longer being able to hold back his own release. 

You both moaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your combined spend being plugged inside of you as Curtis didn’t pull out. He leaned forward on your relaxed form to place soft, content kisses upon the curve of your spine. 

Stepping back to pull out of you, you gasped at the feeling of his cum spilling out of you slowly. Curtis let out a breathless laugh at the sight and groaned out his deep enjoyment of seeing you full of his spend. 

He slowly took off your now wrinkled skirt from your body and re-adjusted you so that the both of you could lay on the couch. Curtis’ large hands softly stroked and kneaded tension away from your lower back as you laid on top of him when you remembered the person on the balcony. 

You softly gasped and sat up abruptly to look down at where the person was standing. There was nobody there anymore, and you could only hope that they didn’t see. 

Looking back down at Curtis, you smacked his chest with a teasing and tired mirth, “‘Let them see’? Really, Curtis.”

Curtis released his own tired chuckle while his caresseses on your back moved to softly stroke at the soft sides of your tummy and waist. “It’s okay, sapphire. I kept an eye on them to make sure that they couldn’t actually see us.”

You hummed as your hands brushed at the hair on his muscular chest. “You know that we have to be careful. I’m not ready for the world to know that you’re mine yet.” 

At the quietness of your tone and downward shift of your eyes, Curtis could tell that you meant what you said sincerely. You both enjoyed the kinkiness of your sex life, but you also knew that there was a vulnerability in your relationship that you didn’t want exposed to the public. Or, to the rest of the band for that matter. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t ready to share you yet either. 

The thought of you being hounded by press and fans made his soft grip tighten on your hips a bit with a frown before he motioned for you to press down against him again with soft encouragement. 

Getting comfortable in his arms, you pressed your ear against his steady, thrumming heart and sighed in content. 

“I know, my little gem. I’ll keep you safe.” They were the last words that you heard as your tired eyes closed in blissful exhaustion in the shielding arms of the man that loved you.

A/N: Yay! What did we think? This goes w.o saying but pleaaase leave a comment or a reblog to kindly tell me your thoughts (genuinely, wanna know)! Hopefully, we will see more bandmember!Curtis x Sapphire in this future~

Main Masterlist

Curtis Everett Masterlist

Tag List is Open :) [submit a form if you would like to be tagged in any of my works]

Tag(s): @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @mercurial-chuckles

Unofficial Tag(s): @krirebr (cause ik you voted for bandmember!curtis, miss gorl~~~) <333

[bigtreefest]

Why Not Both?

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Who are you and Curtis to deny each other of anything on your special day?

Word count: 1,830

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, SMUT, pussyjob, kissing, swears, mentions of eating, mentions of body hair, like…several. Just enjoy it, okay? Okay., a really nice sleepy morning with Curtis that gets a little out of hand but would you really want it to go any other way?, I’m gonna make Curtis himself and the pet names a warning on this one

A/N: SURPRISE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEAN!!! @brandycranby I tried to think of what one of the most indulgent things for you could possibly be after our many conversations. I hope you love this and that your special day is amazing!!💗🥳🥳🥳 extra mentions of body hair just for you😘

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

You groaned as the sunlight hit your face, warming you through the cold air of the house. As you tried to stretch your limbs, you felt resistance from a familiar weight above and below you.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking in the sight of the rumpled comforter that had been kicked towards the bottom of the bed sometime during the night, now sitting just below your waist and that of the rock on which you laid. Into your field of vision came a large hand holding something small. You blinked in an attempt to focus the rainbow color assaulting your retinas until it formed a shape: a cupcake plushie with a smiling face and a candle on top. You sleepily grinned and turned, hiding your face into the mound you were sprawled across. In fact, that firm, dense object your were on top of was Curtis’s chest, and you snorted into the space between his pecs where you had tucked your nose.

You felt your head bounce and rumble from his laugh and the sound of his deep, scratchy morning voice. “Happy birthday, Biscuit. I hope it’s a sweet one.”

You playfully groaned, bringing one hand up by your head on his chest, the other haphazardly reaching and searching for his face, fingertips bumping his shoulder and chin on the way to his rough cheek, eliciting near giggles from your boyfriend.

Your thumb stroked his beard and you turned your head just enough so he could understand the words coming out of your squished mouth.

“I wanna push you for being so cheesy with that joke, but I think if I pull my head off your chest, I might die.”

Curtis chuckled as he combed his fingers through your hair, craning his neck to give you a kiss on the forehead. He knew how much you loved being pressed close to him, especially with how cozy and cuddly you often were in the mornings.

“Well we wouldn’t want that. Not today. We can do whatever you want, and if that’s staying in bed forever, so be it. I can cancel the special lunch reservations I made and we can try that new K-pot restaurant some other time-“

You gasped and tilted your head up to see him, still not detaching yourself from how your were latched on, his chest hair gently scratching your cheek as you looked up at his soft smile through your eyelashes you were now batting.

“Lunch, you say? K-pot….you say?”

Curtis beamed. “Yeah, but if you don’t want lunch from there, we can stay here. It’s your day.”

You furrowed your brow, and finally pushed your palms firmly into Curtis’s belly to sit up. He scooted his body up so he was leaning against the headboard and you followed, leaning in for a quick peck while you reached across him to grab the cupcake plushie.

“Thank you for this, Curtis. I love it. And I love you. But who said we have to choose, why can’t be have both?”

You sat back on your haunches, pulling the plushie closer to you and finally examining it. It was adorable, and all that you could imagine was your big, broody boyfriend carrying it up to the checkout counter at the store. Its bright, neon nature was in great contrast to the cold, dark colors he often wore, which brought an even bigger smile to your face. You reached across Curtis once again to place the plushie on the nightstand and he took that opportunity to grab your waist with both of his big hands, guiding you to sit firmly in his lap. You squealed in surprise, but settled quickly when you saw the way he looked up at you with an earnest, reverent smile. The two of you let out a sigh of content as his fingertips gently stroked up and down your sides, teasing the hem of your tank top upwards. His tongue darted out over his bottom lip at the sight but his eyes quickly looked up at you with a mischievous glint.

“Well who am I to deny you that today? We have time for whatever you want. Lunch out and then a little dessert at home?”

You leaned in, both of your hands moving to frame his face as your nose teased his and you nodded.

“Yeah. And maybe a little morning delight?”

He tilted his head to yours to press your lips together before deepening the kiss, his hands coming up to weave into your hair. Lost in the closeness, you began to grind against him, drinking in his low growl. You could feel him growing hard against your thigh. He pulled you away, panting and looking up, his eyes shifting between yours, brow furrowed in a way that concerned you.

“What? What’s wrong? You don’t wanna do this right now? Did you have something else planned? I was hoping you’d let me love on you a little before I have a food baby and meat sweats. We have time for that, right?”

He nodded, awestruck at your acute observation that only sometimes went overboard. You were everything to him and he wanted to treat you like it. “Yes, yes. We have time. It’s just… it’s your birthday. I wanted this to be about you. Let me love on you.”

His eyes shut and he threw his head back with a groan as you continued the slow movement of your hips, your hands moving to his shoulders now. His fingertips dug slightly into your plush curves a little more in an attempt to restrain himself from bucking up into you. He swallowed and took a deep breath to prepare to speak, but you gently placed your lips against his to stop him. His gaze met yours and you could see the love and want to pamper you today in his eyes.

“It’s okay. I promise, big man. This is a treat for me as much as it is for you, and I don’t know what more I can do to show you that.”

His lips simply parted in a breath and he finally acquiesced with a nod as you grinned at him.

“So is that a yes? You’ll let me have what I want on my special day?”

He guided you to rock against him with more pressure, his voice strained.

“God, yes, Sweets. Take whatever you need.”

You bit your lip and giggled, watching Curtis reach an arm out to turn the new plushie away on the nightstand so it wasn’t facing what was about to happen, your hands tracing down teasingly over his chest and abs to the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Gladly.”

Your fingers tucked underneath the elastic, not before swiping your pointer finger across his treasure trail, through the soft hair. Curtis shivered and lifted his hips as you used both of your hands to gently pull down the fabric to his mid thigh. You couldn’t move this slowly anymore, though. You needed him as desperately as he needed you, so you pulled your pajama shorts to the side and placed the center of his length between your lower lips.

Curtis could feel the way your arousal deliciously let you slide against him as he guided you along his bare length. Your hands clawed their way back up his abs and to his chest. You found your rhythm grinding against him as you let out a whine the first time his broad tip bumped your clit. You listened to the way Curtis’s breath hitched at the sensation, his soft gasps egging you on to move faster.

As you your nails dug slightly into the muscle of his pecs, your arms were pressing your boobs together, drawing Curtis’s attention, and he pulled down the neck of your tank top to expose them. He leaned his head forward and latched his mouth onto one nipple, tongue laving and teeth gently scraping the sensitive skin, hand massaging the other. You threw your head back, whining at the mixed sensations overtaking both ends of your body. He growled against you, his other hand continuing to encourage your movements that were starting to falter. His breathy praises were mumbled into your saliva-covered flesh.

“Keep going. Come on, Sweets. Are you close? You feel so good. Always so good. Please. Please come with me.”

You clenched your eyes shut and nodded fervently, hands fisting the coarse hair that laid between your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m close. Oh, fuck, don’t stop that.”

You pushed your chest towards his face again, the back and forth movements of your hips becoming frantic as Curtis planted his feet on the bed and began to thrust to meet you. The pleasureful friction was pushing you towards your peak, as your back arched, pushing you even closer to him. The combined feeling of his tongue and beard against you, the powerful movement of his body, his little grunts and moans on your skin, and just the sheer love of the moment was enough to tip you over the edge as you keened. Your orgasm hit you like a shockwave from your clenched toes to your nose as your body jerked and your knees squeezed against his narrow hips. He released your nipple with a pop to watch you writhe in his lap: one of his favorite views.

Curtis wasn’t far behind you, especially since you reached behind your back to roll his balls in your hand, gently tugging them as he ground your overstimulated cunt on his twitching cock, his spend quickly shooting out onto his lower stomach accompanied by a deep, guttural moan. It was music to your ears and a tickle to your mind with the way you affected him.

You couldn’t pull your eyes away from the sight for a few moments, half zoned out from exhaustion, half mesmerized by the beauty of his firm, yet somehow soft tummy carrying the evidence of your shared pleasure.

You collapsed onto his chest, your head nuzzling into his neck as you happily and dreamily sighed.

“That was perfect, Curtis. Thank you.”

His callused fingertips were now gently caressing your bare shoulders in small circles, lulling you into a content sleep, almost.

“I should be thanking you for that.”

He checked his nonexistent watch. Before you could even register what was happening, Curtis had scooted down the bed, his buff arms easily lifting you over his face as you squealed once again in surprise at the way he could so easily manhandle you. You could feel the rough, yet pleasant scratch of his beard between your legs and the heat of his breath.

“Yeah, Biscuit. We’ve got just enough time for you to ride my face, and probably a bath. Then it’s time for me to take my best girl to lunch.”

Your hands flew to the headboard, knuckles already preemptively sore from your tight clutch as Curtis got to work celebrating you in another one of his favorite ways.

Bonus A/N: CHEST HAIR CHEST HAIR CHEST HAIR CHEST HAIR CHEST HAIR CHEST HAIR CHEST HAIR CHEST HAIR CHEST HAIR 🥵😵‍💫🤤🫠

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

[babyjakes]

lock them out and throw a feast.

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event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | food play

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

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

word count | 1,698

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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