#curtis everett x ofc

[dungeonpuppykai]

|| 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.

.

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[dbnightingale24]

Fog In The Mind, Desire In The Heart

A Dark Curtis Everett Love Story

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When isn’t he?”

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

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

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

Everyone except Curtis.

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

She never did.

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

It never has and it never will. 

That was the first time you saw him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Clearly I do!”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Edgar-”

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

“Edgar-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Having one what?”

“Child?”

“Fuck no!”

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

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

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

“Oh? What plan is that?” you scoffed

Edgar had always been Curtis’ biggest supporter.

“Why don’t you believe in him?”

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

“Y/N-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N-”

“You’re gonna be late. Go.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Edgar-”

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

“I just want you! Please-”

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

That was the last time you saw him alive.

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

Everyone except you.

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

Sansa, who’s his regular girl. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re still here and Edgar isn’t.”

“Edgar made his choice-”

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

“That’s not true!”

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

“I’ve never done anything-”

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

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

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

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

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

Even if you do still find him painfully attractive.

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

“Could be you.”

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

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

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

Your eyes go wide and he chuckles darkly.

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

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

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

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

“Never!”

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

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

Of all the fucking times to be turned on.

“Curtis-”

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

You push him off of you and glare at him.

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

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

“He trusted you!”

“That was his fault!”

There it is.

“So you admit it!”

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

“You’re monster!”

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

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

“Bitch!”

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

“Get out!”

“Get on the fucking bed!” “Curtis-”

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

“HELP!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Curtis-”

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

“O-oh! Curtis!”

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

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

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

“You’re fucking soaked!”

“Stop-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ngh- too much! Curtis please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s new.

“Jesus fuck,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It feels so fucking good.

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

“Fuck, there it is!”

“Too much!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ll want him again and again.

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

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

Well, you’ve fucking done it now. 

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

Feeling more guilt than you ever have before.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ngh!”

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

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

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

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

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

“DADDY!”

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

You lazily shake your head ‘no’.

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

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

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

You’ve never been so exhausted in your life.

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

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

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

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

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

~~

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

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

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

Curtis.

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

“Y/N? Did you hear me? Curtis-”

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

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

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

“Y/N, please,” the woman begs.

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

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

‘I love you.’

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Please...just go away.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Curtis’ P.O.V.

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

You wanted me all along.

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

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

Two fucking years.

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

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

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

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

“Gonna cum so soon, daddy! Fuck!”

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

Because you’re not a monster at all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you explain?”

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

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

“Yeah, I fucking know, alright?”

“What now?”

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

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

He’s not wrong.

“Did you hurt her?”

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

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

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

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

“Will you stop with that shit?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes sir.”

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

In time, you’ll understand.

~~

Y/N’s P.O.V.

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

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

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

“You’re hungry-”

“What will you eat?”

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

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

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

He had a point there.

“Go on, take it,” he offered again.

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

“Y/N-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All of this was your fault.

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

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

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

“Curtis-”

“Why have you been crying all day?”

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

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

“Stop being so fucking callous about it!”

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

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

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

“You can literally have whoever else you want-”

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

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

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

“You don’t-”

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

“Curtis...stop.”

“I love you.”

“That’s not love-”

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

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

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

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

“Curtis...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“AH SHIT!”

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

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

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

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

“Please....please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aht!”

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

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

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

“Y-yes!”

“Yes who?”

“Y-yes...y-y-yes daddy!”

“Always gonna be mine?”

“A-an-anything you w-want!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm, yes.”

“Do you love me?”

The answer comes effortlessly, “yes Curtis.”

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

You’re too tired to fight it.

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

~~

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

The very front of the train.

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

“I’m here,” he calls softly.

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

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

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

He’s not wrong about you being sore. 

“Nothing-”

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

“It doesn’t matter right now-”

“Curtis, what’s wrong?”

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

“I love you.”

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

“That’s the problem right there.”

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

“It’s not so easy for me, okay?”

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

“Well, do you?” “Curtis-”

“It’s a simple yes or no question-”

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

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

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

“Curtis-”

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

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

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

“Just tell me!’

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

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

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

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

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

“Curtis-”

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

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

“I’ll ask you again, do you love me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise.”

“I love you, honey.”

“I love you, Curtis.” 

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans characters #Chris Evans Character Smut #snowpiercer fanfiction #Curtis Everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x ofc #curtis everett smut #curtis everett fanfiction #fan fic smut #fanfic smut #Dark! Curtis Everett #minors dni #minors do not interact

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Body Heat" : a Snowpiercer-Marvel Mashup Story

Part 1 - "The Man"

Rated: Mature (non-explicit chapter, marked mature for dark themes)

Pairing: Curtis Everett x ofc

Tags: dystopia, food insecurity, post apocalypse, age difference (18/34), dark!fic, implied/referenced suicide, background character death (offscreen), poverty, arranged marriage, implied/referenced past cannibalism, hurt/comfort

Summary: She’s too young for him to be eyeing her up the way he has been, but this is the Tail section, and Curtis has caught other men looking more than once. Everything is a commodity in the Tail. Everything. It won't be too long before he has to step in and claim her.

Author's Note:

On Tumblr, forbidden ToS content categories are: "terrorism, hate speech, harm to minors, self harm, sexually explicit material, violence, threats, gore, and mutilation."

And while you ARE apparently allowed to write a fictional story about incestual, torturing, anorexic racists who rape, murder, kidnap, hate, cannibalize, terrorize, and self-injure in the plotline of said story,

you ARE NOT allowed to write an underage character who engages is any sort of sexualized conduct in a story.

For this one category and this one category alone, Tumblr staff (or at least one particular individual 😏on staff) makes no distinction between fictional stories and C.S.A.M. They can and will delete your blog without any notice.

So, in the face of this VERY SPECIFIC criteria for Tumblr's censorship choices, I have changed the age of a character in this story to 18. That's not how the story was originally written, and the story can still be read on Ao3, which does not arbitrarily censor their content. But my m/f stories seem to be most popular on Tumblr, so I wanted to include the altered version in my library here.

(To be spiteful, however, I have changed the ofc from 16 to 18 and Curtis from 28 to 34, thus WIDENING the original age gap from 12 yrs to 16 yrs😆)

🖤With that said, this is a dark story regardless, so if you're looking for fluff, I suggest you look elsewhere.🖤

Part 1 - "The Man"

The Man’s been dead for almost a day, the body already stiffened in rigor mortis and then relaxed again by the time anyone comes to take it.

They’d found him in his bunk just after breakfast yesterday, which means they’ve been keeping his wake for nearly twenty-four hours now, up at the front of the lead assembly car; his daughter and a few others who were closest to him sitting vigil with the body until the time comes. Mourning while they still can.

Jackboots visit the tail section only once per day—in the morning, with the food. That’s how Tailies tell time. So when one of their own dies, the funeral and the family’s goodbyes last only as long as the next arrival of the next pushcart with the next batch of gelatinous bars.

Bringing in food and taking out bodies—a callous reminder to Snowpiercer’s lowest inhabitants that their deaths are little different from their lives: cold, unadorned, hopeless.

Curtis keeps his distance once he’s paid his respects, and it’s quiet now as they all wait. A few people had given some nice speeches earlier, a decent eulogy capped off by the beautiful singing voice of the daughter that The Man has left behind: Rose.

Curtis watches her adjust the sheet over The Man’s body. He’s already been washed and stripped in preparation, wrapped in the old grey sheet that will be returned to them within a matter of hours. Nothing is wasted on Snowpiercer. The few pieces of clothing that The Man had owned now sit folded on the floor, ready to be given to their next occupants. The sight of his trademark checked shirt, unworn and available, is a point of mourning all in itself, Curtis finds.

New clothing always means death.

The Man had been a good person, a leader in his own right. Back when they’d first boarded, he’d been one of the first to volunteer his own flesh—though only once his wife had been killed and the mob was coming for his young daughter, too.

Curtis looks back up towards the front of the car when the heavy groans of unlatching metal come from the next section up. Rose’s face, covered in tears, also shoots up at the sound. Her eyes widen and her lip begins to quiver again. Her fingerless-gloved hand reaches for the body, clutching The Man’s shoulder one last time as the door slides open.

The jackboots bark for everyone to move back, since the funeral group isn’t sitting behind the usual yellow line of demarcation that’s taped to the floor, but then they look down and see the body. The lead guard sighs. “Oh, great,” he mutters. “Just what I wanted to do today.”

Curtis’ eyes narrow and his muscles tense, anticipating disrespect to the body—that he can handle, is used to, but if they lay a hand on her as the scene plays out, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to restrain himself. Rose is a sweet girl despite her circumstances, with an innocence and a naivety that usually only the train babies have, and Curtis has always done what he can to look out for her.

“Right,” the one guard says to the other. “Okay. Protein blocks first, then you can load ‘im on the cart.”

Rose stays sitting by the body as everyone lines up to receive their daily portions. Curtis makes eye contact as he steps up to the lead guard and takes his portion. “Be nice,” he says. “It’s her dad.”

Luckily, the jackboots don’t seem to be in any kind of foul mood today. They let Rose sniffle over the body for a few extra seconds before hefting the corpse onto the empty protein block cart. And then they’re gone. No muss, no fuss, no fanfare. Just like it always happens when a Tailie dies.

“What do you think they do with them?” Curtis overhears Ned and Peter saying, talking with each other as they nibble off their protein blocks not too far from Rose. “Throw ‘em out?”

“How?” Peter says doubtfully. “S’not exactly an escape hatch in this thing.”

“Course there is,” Ned argues. “Where d’you think your shit goes when you flush the—”

“Hey,” Curtis hisses, glaring at them and tipping his head discreetly in Rose’s direction. “Show a little respect.”

Ned and Peter mumble an apology and move off, and when Curtis looks back to Rose, she’s blinking up at him with red rimmed eyes. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says, her voice deeper than usual as it emanates from a throat scraped raw by grief.

“I did.” Curtis walks over and slides down the wall to sit next to her. “He was a good man, your dad.”

“Thanks,” she says quietly.

Her nose sounds all stuffed up, so Curtis fishes in his pocket for his handkerchief. “Haven’t spoken to you in a hot minute,” he says, handing it over for her to blow her nose.

“Yeah well I hear you’re always planning the next revolution, so …”

Curtis scoffs. “Yeah, maybe.” He looks her over, taking in the worn knit of her sweater, the colorless felt of her coat that’d once been blue and belonged to her mother. So many of the Tailies are worn down to nothing but dull, grey husks now, just like the clothes they’ve recycled for over a decade. But Rose is different.

For whatever reason, her skin is still clear, her hair still thick. The malnutrition hasn’t affected her the way it has most others. Her soul still comes through her eyes. That inner luminance makes her pretty, maybe even the prettiest girl in the tail section. Even though she’s still very young. Probably too young for Curtis to be eyeing her up the way he has been, these past few months.

But she’s about that age now, even though it feels like only yesterday he was scrounging up materials to make her a little doll she could play with. People grow up fast in the tail whether they want to or not, and Curtis has been on high alert for a while now because he’s caught other men looking more than once. He’s even heard some bits of hushed conversation, whispered from nearby bunks where the occupants didn’t realize he was there to listen. Everything is a commodity in the tail. Everything. And there’s no one else who looks like Rose. She’s only made it this far because of her father.

And now her father’s dead.

Curtis realizes he’s been staring a little too long when Rose’s eyes slide over to him in curiosity. He coughs and looks away, shaking his head when she tries to hand him back the handkerchief. “Naw. You hold onto it for me, Hon.” She tucks it shyly away in her coat, and Curtis is pleased. “So …” he hedges, not knowing what to say to her. There’s nothing he can say. All they have in the tail is each other, their people, and she’s just lost hers. “So … you still going by ‘Rosebud’?”

That gets a tiny smile from her, which warms Curtis’ chest in the same way that he can remember whiskey doing, a lifetime ago. “Nobody calls me that anymore,” she says. “Nobody but him. And you.”

“Yeah?” Curtis thinks on it some. “Well maybe you should retire it. It’s a girl’s name anyway.”

“Aren’t I a girl?”

He raises an eyebrow without looking at her. “You still have that doll I made for you?” He hears her scoff and knows the answer. Rosie helps look after the young children in the tail. Curtis has seen that shabby little doll floating around in various tiny hands for years now. “You’re a good person,” he says quietly. “Like your dad. He was good. I’ll miss him." He’s looking straight ahead across the assembly car when he says it, but he still catches her slight movement out of the corner of his eye.

“He didn’t act any different,” she says, voice tiny. “I didn’t know. He didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything that made it seem like he was going to …” She cuts herself off, swallows thickly and shakes her head. “I just didn’t know.”

Curtis holds out his hand in offer for her to hold, and she takes it. Even with the fingerless glove on, her hand still feels tiny in his. “How about Petal?” he suggests.

“Petal?”

“Yeah,” he decides. “Yeah that’s what I’ll call you. Petal. My rose petal.”

“Oh, god.” She groans. “No. Curtis.”

“No?” He turns his head to look at her, and this time he waits until she looks at him too. Her expression sobers as their eyes meet. Curtis reaches to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s a beautiful word,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t I call you that?” His eyes skip over her face, soaking up the way her breath stutters, how a slow blush starts to fill the apples of her cheeks. “I promise I won’t tell anybody else,” he whispers.

She ducks her chin with a bashful smile. “Well, I guess so.”

In her lap, her other arm curls protectively around the small pile of belongings she’s been holding onto, drawing Curtis’ attention. Her father had been a large man, imposing, and yet the pile is so tiny. A whole entire life, compressed into less than one square foot in the end.

(Curtis does wonder, sometimes, what they do with the bodies.)

“He was one of our best,” he tells her. “Even in the Desperation. I remember how he was, how he volunteered. He was a leader. Brave.” His eyes slide over to the excuse for an artificial limb that's been cobbled together from an umbrella and a few old wire coat hangers, of all things. Now it sits, sad and unused, on the floor next to Rose’s leg. “You know who you’re gonna give it to?”

“What?”

He nods at the limb. “His arm. It’s the best one in the tail.”

“Oh.” She glances away from it, looking pained. “No,” she says. “I figured I’d just give it to you.”

“Me?” Curtis isn’t one of the few who’d volunteered in the Desperation—obviously, as he’s still got all four limbs intact. He wasn’t the same person back then that he is now. Back then he’d been a taker, not a giver. He looks away with a frown. “Give it to Phil,” he suggests. “He needs one, since his broke.”

Rose agrees that the arm should go to Coulson. She carefully sets the pile of clothing aside on the floor and returns to place her hand back in Curtis’ waiting one, this time pulling their joined hands into her lap. They sit there together like that for a long while, not speaking, just existing side by side. Some things have so much more value now than they did Before, including silent company and a comforting hand.

“Do you remember it much?” Curtis eventually says.

“Before?”

“No.” He never talks about Before, since it only breeds despair. “Boarding,” he says. “Do you remember?”

“Of course.”

He winces. “Oh. I didn’t know if you did. You were so young. I thought maybe … maybe you’d forgotten. A lot of the kids did, even some of the older ones.”

“Yeah. MJ was eight and she says she can’t remember at all.”

Curtis nods. “Sometimes it feels like a dream even to me, it was so long ago.” He’d been twenty-two when the world froze and people were reduced to animals all around him. Twelve years couldn’t erase that pain, but it could muddle it a lot. “I’m sorry you didn’t. Block it out.”

“I remember ... shouting,” Rose says, her voice teasing the memory out. “It was dark. And I remember getting shoved around, hiding against my mom's legs, being hungry ... how cold it was.” It’s been cold ever since, but never as cold as that night—the last night before the wind and snow and ice got shut out forever. She heaves a sigh. “It’s all a jumble in my mind, anyway. I couldn’t see past anyone’s coat.”

“You were little,” Curtis mumbles. “Short.”

“Well I was six."

He smirks and bumps her shoulder with his. “You’re still short,” he teases, while privately he thinks that it’s better that she was so young when it happened. It means her earliest memories are of cold and chaos, and that’s better than the alternative of having had more time in the World. It means less things to mourn. “What are you going to do now?” he asks, shaking his head like he can knock the past out of it. "Plans for today?"

Rose shrugs. “Same old, same old. Kids, stories. It’s my night to shower.”

Curtis turns his head towards her, brow furrowed. “You … but you’re not going back to you guys' spot, right?”

"'Course. Where else would I go?"

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, what he thought the alternative was supposed to be. Every square centimeter of the tail section is already portioned and claimed. New space doesn’t just appear. Nothing new ever appears, except babies, bodies, and the rats that Wanda breeds to supplement their diet.

“Rosie,” Curtis scolds. “No. You can’t go back there. Not where he—”

“It’s not a big deal,” she says stubbornly, pretending it doesn’t bother her. But she’s a horrible liar and that’s just another thing that's always made her so endearing ... and so vulnerable.

“Hon,” Curtis mourns,

“It’s just a bunk," she insists. "He slept there, he died there. I’ll probably die there too, one day.”

Curtis growls unhappily. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that. Hey, things won’t always be like this.” He catches her throwing him side eye and he glares at her. “They won’t.”

“Right,” she says, mouth quirking sadly at one corner before her gloved hand gives his a final squeeze and then lets him go. “Well. Not everybody has the big plans that you do, Curtis. Sometimes it's better to know what the future holds, even if it's this.”

“Don’t lose hope, Petal,” he pleads, but he can see that she’s dismissive of it. People lose hope all the time in the Tail. That’s what’d killed her father.

He sighs and looks back to the opposite side of the car. Now that the jackboots are gone it’s thinned out some, with some people gone back to their bunks and others remaining behind to munch on their protein blocks in the fresher air of the assembly car. Curtis spots a man several yards away who’s been openly staring at Rose. When the man sees Curtis looking, however, he hurriedly turns away.

Curtis scowls. “Hey,” he says, intending to take Rose's hand again and offer to have her spend the night with him. But her hand isn't there when he reaches over. She’s getting up, gathering her dead father’s pile of folded clothing items in her arms. Curtis frowns and gets up with her. He hurries to pick up the artificial limb. “Wait. Where’re you going?”

“Gonna give these to Gilliam,” she says, already on the move. “I want him to have first dibs." As if her father’s clothing would even come close to fitting Gilliam's shrunken and weathered old frame.

But Curtis gets up anyway and follows after her, not wanting to let her go just yet. He hurries along as she walks surprisingly fast for having such short legs. “Hey,” he says, talking to her back as they navigate through the communal living cars and the showers, and then into the cramped passageways of the market. “Hey, you know … you could come over tonight, if you wanted. My spot’s a pretty good size.”

“So is ours—” she says, faltering when she realizes her mistake. “I mean, so is mine.”

Curtis sighs and grabs her shoulder, pulling her to a stop. “Don’t go back there,” he pleads, cornering her into a cramped spot to face him. “Hey. I mean it, Hon. Don’t. You shouldn’t go back there tonight. Not alone, not where he …” She squares her jaw and looks up at him, expression stubborn as ever, and Curtis is struck by the sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss her. “It’s too soon,” he insists, because she’d been the one to find The Man sitting up in the bed: straight backed and purple faced and all out of hope, a cord wrapped thrice around his neck. “Too soon,” Curtis repeats sadly.

“I’ll be okay,” she insists, nodding when he makes a face to show how much he doesn’t agree with that. “It’s fine, Curtis. Really. I appreciate the offer. And I get it, I do. But that's our spot, ya know? I’ve lived there for twelve years, and I—” her eyes cut away, glossy with the threat of fresh tears. She swallows thickly and won’t look at him again. “I’m not ready to leave it,” she whispers. “I’d rather stay where it still smells like him.”

Curtis isn’t sure what love feels like, but he thinks maybe it’s partly made up of the horrible feeling he gets in his guts when he sees Rose in pain like this. “... Okay,” he says quietly, taking a small step back so that she can continue on down the passage. The tail is made up of twenty cars, and they’re only several down from the forwardmost car at this point. “Gilliam’s probably at the back,” he tells her. He can see that she wants to be alone in her grief, though he hates the idea of letting her go. “Hey,” he says softly, cupping her face. “I’m right here if you need me, Hon. You know that, right?”

She smiles and nods with watery eyes, worsening the tug in Curtis’ guts. He thinks seriously about leaning in and kissing her, but winds up holding himself back like he’s done so many times already. Instead he just strokes his thumb over her cheek, finger ruddy against the clear skin of her face. “Okay,” he says again. He gently places the artificial limb on top of the stack of clothing she holds, then takes another step back. “I’ll see you at dinner?” he asks, not bothering to hide the hope in his voice. He wants to see her again, as much as possible. The more he can keep her in his sights, the better.

“Yeah,” she agrees, leaning up to plant a quick peck to his cheek. “Thanks, Curtis. For looking out for me. He'd feel better, knowing that."

He watches her go with a sense of trepidation, uttering a quiet, "Not doin' it for him," once she’s halfway down the car.

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

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[cevansbrat0007]

Twin Flames: Part One

Summary: When firefighter Curtis Everett suspects that he's found his twin flame, he plans to slowly ease her into his lifestyle of dominance and submission. Until one night when it all goes up in smoke. Firefighter!Curtis Everett x OFC

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, House Fires, Mention of Exes, Mentions of D/s Lifestyle, Mentions of Daddy Kink, Alcohol Consumption, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me flesh this out. This installment is part of my ongoing Trio Series. There will be a second part to this, detailing Curtis and Ruby's actual first meeting the night of the play party. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

___

As a firefighter, Curtis Everett has seen some terrible things in his line of work as a first responder. He's lost people on the job more than once. But the first time it happened…

The memory of that night still follows him. The things he witnessed, the smell of charred flesh. That’s the kind of shit that changes a person, it leaves behind a lasting mark.

The first person he ever lost while out on a call – it wrecked him. And in the aftermath Curtis was left to deal with it all on his own because Serena, his girlfriend of several years, was too busy partying to pick up the phone when he needed her. She had swiped his credit card so that she could show her friends a good time, which also included half the bar. 

After all, it wasn’t like it was her money. And although they ended things soon after, that woman wasn’t prepared to go quietly. She felt that she’d put up with a lot from him, especially whenever she reluctantly allowed him to indulge in some of his darker fantasies. 

In her mind, he owed her. And in time, she would collect.

But Curtis would eventually recover from that loss and move on, because that’s kind of one of the requirements of the job. After that horrible night, he vowed to do better. He became laser focused, determined to push himself to the limit. And it worked, at least for a while. But sometimes life is rather unpredictable.  

Just like the flames.

The next time he lost someone on his watch, it threatened to take him his fucking knees. Because that day – that day the victim was a little girl. Iris Caldwell, who was barely five-years-old. Her weeping mother had kept repeating over and over again that she’d just had a birthday two days prior.

And they had plans to celebrate that weekend. But the flames…they’d gotten to her first. And her tiny lungs had been no match for the heat and the smoke. 

Curtis had been the one to carry out her small, lifeless body - tears clouding his vision through the cover of his mask. He handed her off to an EMT and then stood motionless several yards away as chaos surged around him. His eyes were trained on the child, his frozen gaze never leaving her fallen form as the crew desperately tried to resuscitate her. However, when their efforts proved to be unsuccessful he placed the weight of that blame squarely upon his own shoulders. 

He’d been the one who failed poor Iris. And then the endless loop of “what-ifs” began. 

What if they’d arrived at the scene a few moments sooner? What if he’d been just a fraction of a second quicker as he was making his way into the house, trying to navigate a path through the blaze? What if he hadn’t struggled to break down the heavy oak door that had kept them from Iris, leaving her trapped to contend with the flames alone before she eventually succumbed to her injuries?

Later that night, someone showed him her picture, one of his teammates that had been with him on the call. In the photo, Iris had been wearing a sparkly pink crown, looking every inch the princess she was pretending to be. But it was her eyes that struck him – those big, beautiful eyes that reminded him so much of someone else he’d encountered not too long ago. A person that he’d met at one of the parties he liked to frequent as of late in his search to find the right woman. 

The type of woman who enjoyed the same games he liked to play. The type of woman who could manage him, who could accept him for the man that he was and would always be. A woman who was not only capable of understanding his dominant nature, but of embracing it.

He’d met a woman who’s spirit called to his own – so much so that when she abruptly left, he chased her down. Curtis had felt compelled to know her, to gentle the young woman who’s inner fire seemed to burn so bright, he couldn’t bear to watch it be so clumsily extinguished by someone else. By a lesser man who wouldn’t understand, nor appreciate, the gift that would be her eventual submission.

Rubeena Maxwell. That had been her name. And what they’d shared the night at Club Domino after he’d chased her down had been amazing. But he hadn’t pursued her after that, wanting to court her right. To show her that he could be the man he knew she deserved. And in order to do that he had to be on top of his game.

As a man. As a Dominant. And as a Daddy.  

But the night he and his team had lost that child, deep down he knew that he couldn’t go through this alone. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to – even as he tried to drink it all away. 

That night he tried to bury himself so deep in the bottom of a bottle that it – along with everything else – would all fade away. Wanted to get so drunk off his ass that he wouldn’t have to feel a damn thing until after morning light. However, when that proves to be damn near impossible he leaves the bar in search of another form of solace. 

He knew that he needed something more. He needed her.

Ruby.

They weren’t together, at least not yet. They’d only been out a few times, enough for her to realize that there was more to Curtis than he initially let on. There was pain, there was baggage, as well as the ghost of an ex-girlfriend who was still taking up so much space that it left virtually no room for a third person.

For Ruby to stake her claim on this man’s heart.

So she tried to put the brakes on things, effectively ending their relationship before it had truly ever begun. Because in truth, she had her own issues to contend with. And none of them involved a charming six-foot-something firefighter sporting a chiseled jaw and tempting blue eyes.     

However, when he showed up on her doorstep two weeks after their very first meeting, looking every bit as lost as confused she felt, she had no choice but to let him in. Especially since the gorgeous first responder appeared to be so drunk he could barely stand, let alone talk.

The moment she opened her door, Curtis pulled her into his arms, whispering into her curls over and over again about how sorry he was – for everything. For not being enough. For not getting there in time. Followed by a litany of nonsensical rambles about Ruby’s eyes, and how there was so much life in them. 

And how he never wanted to be the reason that it disappeared. 

Curtis just wanted to tell her – someone, anyone, really – that he had tried that day. That he had resolved himself to do better. And then he broke, right there on her front porch as she wrapped her arms around his big body as his powerful shoulders shook with the force of his tortured sobs. 

And whether she knew it or not, that was the night Rubeena Maxwell opened her heart to the beautifully damaged man who would become her lover, her partner, and the most dominant force in her life. 

That was the night she and Curtis Everett became a team. And this right here is just the beginning of their story before they would eventually become part of The Trio.

Next part coming soon...

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[andydrysdalerogers]

Presley ~ A Curtis Everett AU ~ Part Eight

Curtis Everett x OFC Presley Adams

Synopsis:

Curtis Everett is a hard working man. As the head of the mob of Concord, he does everything he can to provide for his wife and children. His life is perfect. Until it's not.

After a devastating accident, Curtis is alone with his children and needs some serious help.

Presley Adams needs to find work and fast. Running from her past she just wants to lay low and earn enough to get her out of town. Until she starts working for Curtis as his live in nanny.

As she falls in love with this family, can she stop her past from finding her? Or will her past be the end of the Everett reign in Concord?

Book two of the Five Kings of Boston series

Warning: themes of a mafia lifestyle; SMUT; possessive tendencies; murder; death; age gap; rape

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Part Seven

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter Eight ~ Negotiations

Presley 

I’ve never given much thought on how my life would end.  

When I was trapped in my father’s house and slated to marry Charles, I had considered taking my own life just to escape.  But my mother, bless her, she knew and convinced me that she would get me away from this life.  When I was on the run, I feared a bullet being put into me.  The last year was the first time that I hadn’t thought about my demise. For the first time, I could plan a future. I could see myself having love with Curtis, raising our children.  We had talked and we always wanted more.  

It wasn’t suppose to be like this. Mama had said that marriage was hard work but that love would be the foundation.  I had asked her once whether she loved my father.  She told me she used to. A lot of things had changed after the war we had when i was a child. That was the reason he could no longer have children, an accident. After the war, my father changed and was no longer my papa. He starting making plans on how to protect his family, his legacy. I was a princess and now I was just a pawn.  

Enter Charles.  

He was sweet, once. When we were introduced, he had charm, charisma. A good looking man from an under family.  He had saved one of my cousins and earned favor with my father. My engagement was announced a month later. He just had to wait until I turned 18. 

Then came the library. 

It was a typical mafia soiree, food, liquor, music. I needed a moment to breathe. I was feeling nervous. My birthday was in less than a month away. I wasn’t ready to be a wife and my mother had been pleading with my father to wait until I was older. But my father refused. So, I was sulking in the library, emotional over all the congratulatory wishes we were getting. I had to stand by his side. At the time, I was happy to marry Charles. I would be queen of this family as my father has always said. But when someone mentioned starting a family right away, a surge of unease filtered into my belly and I needed a moment.  

“You’re hiding, love.”  I turned to look back at Charles.  

“I just needed a moment to take it all in.” I smiled to comfort him. “Its a little overwhelming.”  

“Yes, it is. But when we are in charge, you will want for nothing, be worried for nothing.” He kissed my forehead. “I promise, everything will be fine.”  

“I know you will take care of me, Charles. But, I am nervous about being intimate and having kids. I wanted to see the world and live a little.  I wanted to spend time with my husband before we are parents.” I looked back out the window. 

“I can’t believe you are so innocent in this world.” He pressed up next to me and I could feel how aroused he was at the idea of me being innocent.  

“Charles, please, I just need space,” as I moved to push him away.  

“Oh, darling, I’m just looking for a taste.” He grabbed my hands to put them over my head. My dress, which he had requested be shorter than I liked, rode up to the tops of my thighs. “You are gorgeous, my little innocent flower, mi Piccola.” He kissed me hard. I struggled to break free but he had a tight hold on me.  With my wrists in one hand, Charles used his other hand to skim from my knee up my dress. “Fuck, so hot right here,” pressing on my center.  

I screamed. He tried to silence me but the sound caused my guard, Natalia, to rush the room.  My mother had been looking for me and ran in with her.  Natalia pulled Charles off of me and threw him to the ground.  “You’ll never lay a hand on her again or I will gut you like a fish.”  

Charles picked himself up and dusted off his clothes. “You will regret this,” he told her. “All of you!” He stormed out.  I was sobbing in my mother’s arms.  

“Sweetie, this is bad,” my mother says to me.  “We need to get you out of here.  Natalia, in my sewing room is an envelope with Ameila’s name on it in the bottom drawer. Grab it and wait for us in the garden.” My mother grabbed my face. “You’re gonna be ok. You just keep running.”  She walked me out to the back of the house, away from the party.  

“Natalia will know what to do.  Just keep moving. Change your name if you can Ameila.” We made it to the back fence.  Natalia was there with a small backpack. “Take care of her.” She kissed Nat’s forehead. “Keep her safe. I will distract them for as long as I can.” She looked at me. “I love you princessa. Remember that.” She took of the necklace she wore, my favorite and sent me into the night.  

I didn’t know that would be the last time I ever saw her.  

We ran and for some reason, a car flashed it lights. “I called in a favor,” Natalia told me. A man behind the wheel didn’t say anything as we climbed in.  But before I closed the door, I heard a shot in the night.  

We ran for two years before we got separated.  They had found us, my father’s men and Natalia led them in a different direction.  I thought she was dead as well. I found my way into Massachusetts and met Cat.  The rest is history.  I thought I was safe, that i found a home. My future was in my sight.  

I didn’t see that I would be back in Charles’s clutches.  

He paces in front of me, speaking on the phone. I keep digging my nails into my palms, trying to stop my body from trembling. I can only imagine who he is on the phone with. Probably my father.  He finally hangs up and turns to me. “I’ve been waiting six years to find you Amelia.” 

“My name is Presley.” Why am I being defiant to a psychotic man? 

“That’s right. Marco did say that you changed your name.  Legally as well.” He smiled. I remember that smile. Ladykiller, my mother called it once. “We’ll change it back once we are married.”  

“I’m not getting married.”  

It was like he was lightning. One second he was on the side of the room, the next he was in front of me, grabbing my chin so I would look at him. “If I say we are getting married, then we are getting married. Do you understand me? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” I nodded, scared to open my mouth.  This is the lunatic that my father chose for me. “Good.” He planted a kiss on my lips and it took everything not to gag. “Now, we leave in an hour, so freshen up, we have a drive a head of us.”  

Once we were in the car, Marco driving with another guard I had never met, Charles took my hand and intertwined our fingers. When I tried to pull away, he just tightened his grip. “You’re hurting me,” I whispered.  

“Then behave.” Charles sighed. “You know Presley, I wish we had the last six years.”  

“Why? You just wanted to use me.” I kept looking out the window, tears slowly running down my face.  

“I thought you and I were made for each other. I only ever wanted a taste. I was never going to hurt you, sweetheart. But you decided to scream. And everything was ruined. Your father though, he is a smart man.  He still made me his right hand and I’ve slowly taken over. The men answer to me.” He squeezed my hand until I looked at him. “I am the head of the Giovanni family now by reputation. After I make you my wife, I’ll be the head of this family forever.”  

“You’re a monster.”  

“Stick and stones, sweetheart. You could have been in a position of power. Standing by my side. But now, well now, now you are going to be my little slut. I’ll keep you chained to our bedroom, naked and waiting for me to use you as my personal cumdrop. Whenever I need a release, it will be in your little whore pussy.” He voice was calm, smooth, as if his words weren’t deploring, deprecating. He grasped my by my hair to tilt my head so I could look up at him. “I always win, princessa. It took six years to take power from yur father but I can bet that it will take less time to break you.”  

I struggled to get away from him put he pinned me as he got close to my face.  “Don’t touch me,” I cried. 

“You’re mine, Piccola and I will do whatever I want.” He inhaled my scent and then kissed my neck. “I can’t wait to make you submit.”  

Yes, I was back in my nightmare.  

Charles 

Leaving my princess in her cell, I moved to the living room.  My men were preparing for our departure from Camden. We need to leave before the King of Camden knows we are in his city. “How much longer?” I ask.  

Sid answers, “five minutes, just waiting for the last car.” The plan is set.  

“Excellent. Sid, get our Queen and put her in my car.” I fixed the cuffs of my suit and turned to Marco, my second. Are the preparations ready? 

“Yes sir. The ceremony site is ready and we have Mrs. Giovanni’s dress for Amelia.”  

“Perfect.” Once I married her, I was changing her name back. I fucking hate that name. Presley.  She’s been my Amy, my Amelia, my Piccola, my queen. And I was going to demonstrate my power to the family.  

Everett thinks he got the underhand on me yesterday.  Showing old man Giovanni the supposed “proof” of my indiscretions was a step too far. All of those were willing participants.  At least they were, once I fucked them hard enough to render them stupid.  I made all of them sign NDAs after I had them.  All except my cousins and Mrs. Barber.  She had tasted the sweetest. Fucking Lloyd spoiled that taste for me. 

Its been about four hours since Amelia was taken from the Everett compound and my phone buzzes. I smile because I know who it has to be.  “Hello Mr. Everett.”  

“You little fucking bastard!”  

I laughed. "You told me twenty four hours. Well I did it in four. Look at that.”  

“I will find you and I will get back my girl.”  

“She was never yours,” I growl.  “She has always been mine. Happy hunting, Mr. Everett.”  I hung up on him and walked out to the cars. “Let’s go!” 

Amelia is seated right next to me, holding herself as far away from me as possible. “You’ll enjoy being my Queen, Amelia.”  

“Presley,” she whispers.  

“I hate that name,” I growl. “We’ll change it as soon as possible.”  My phone rings again and I smile. “Mario, what can I help you with?” I put the phone on speaker.  

“Do you have my daughter?” 

I hold the phone out towards her. She looked at me and I growl lowly to her. Her lips tremble before she answers. “Hi papa.”  

“Lia.” I can see Amelia’s eyes begin to water. I knew that was her nickname she had when she was a child. It's something that she probably hadn’t heard in years. “Are you ok?” What the fuck is this question? The man has never cared for his child in the time I knew him.  

She looks at me terrified and I nod for her to answer. “I’m ok.”  

“Good. I will see you in a few hours, figlia.”  

“Si, papa.” She looks away from the phone but I can see the tears running down her face.  

“Everything alright Mario?” I could have sworn I heard something in his voice.  He wasn’t usually affectionate with his daughter but then again its been six years since he’s seen her.  

“Nothing, Blackwood. Just get her here.”  

He hangs up and I turned back to Amelia. “I can’t wait for our wedding night, Piccola.”  I run a hand up her leg. I wish she had been in a dress or skirt so I could feel the smooth skin I remembered. But she slaps my hand away.  

“Do not touch me,” she seethes.  

I won’t let this behavior continue.  I grab her by her hair at the root and pull her head towards me.  She cries out and as much as I love that sound, I need to ignore it. “You are mine Amelia. I can do whatever i want with you.  Do you understand?”  When she doesn’t answer, I yank harder. “Say it.”  

She whimpers. “I’m yours.”  

I kiss her hard. Finally, I have what has been mine for the last ten years.  

Curtis 

I’m pacing.  

That call with Blackwood put me on my last nerve. Jake is tracking the necklace. She never takes it off. It subtle enough that no one things its worth anything.  That’s why Presley liked it so much.  But her ring, well her ring will be a show stopper. I want the world to know she is mine.  

“She’s still stopped at the same location,” Jensen says. “Its still in Camden.”  

“Sir, are you sure you don’t want to reach out to the King of Camden?  He could have the house surrounded in an hour,” Clint asks.  

“No, something like that could trigger them to hurt her.”  I knew I could call Ari and have him help but this was my war.  I do send him a message, as a courtesy.  

Everett: Levinson, heads up, there is a situation happening in a house in Camden. We have a feeling it will move in the next hour but I wanted you to be aware.   Levinson: Need help?  Everett: not yet. I don’t want to risk her or your men.   Levinson: Her? Your queen? You know our agreement is we help  Everett: I know. I have an insider and they have advised to stand down for now. We’re tracking her.   Levinson: You know Jennie and I would do anything if needed.   Everett: I know. I’ll let you know.  

I put down phone and resume my pacing. I need to get her back.  the visual of my children asking for their momma hurts my chest so much, I actually rub at it. It feels like hours have passed but in reality its just been a few minutes.  My phone rings. “Yes?” 

“They are moving. To New Jersey.”  

“Thank you.”  

“I’ll wait for you.”  The line goes dead.  

I face my team. “Jersey. Let’s get ready.” The men move to grab their gear but I see one person who is waiting.  “Nat?” 

“I’m coming with you.” The determination is set on her face.  

“Natasha, that is not a good idea,” Clint starts to say but I stop him.  

“Nat, are you sure?  This will be dangerous and I don’t think Presley would want you to be in danger.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “Tell me you’re sure.”  

“It was my job to get her to safety. I’m just finishing the job that Mrs. Giovanni gave me. Please, let me finish my work.”  

I nodded. “It’s your right but you listen to either me or Clint.” She nodded. “Let’s move.”  

I watched the blinking light on the monitor Jensen handed to me.  Hang on Kitten, I’m coming for you.  

Presley 

A few hours later and I know I am back in hell.  

Well, my own personal hell.  

I’m back in my father’s house.  

Charles escorts me into the house. It looks the same, as if time stood still.  I looked around and saw the one thing that had changed.  In the corner stood a painting of my mother and me.  There were fresh flowers positioned around it.  I took a step towards it to read the plaque.  

Beloved Wife and Daughter 

Forever In Our Hearts 

He has got to be joking. I scoff at the painting and turn back and freeze.  

“Lia.”  

One word. Its one word that until today I hadn’t heard in years. Its a direct hit to my heart and it cracks.  

“Papa.”  

My father rushes and pulls me into his arms. I remember this type of hug. It’s the type of hug I missed after I left. After I had disappointed him.  “Mi Bambina,” he cradles my face. “I wish you had disappeared figlia,” he whispered. I’m confused. 

“I wish I had too.” A tear slides down my cheek and he brushes it away.  

“Figlia, non aver paura. C'è un piano per farti uscire di qui. Ricorda solo tutto quello che ti ho insegnato.” (Daughter, don't be afraid. There is a plan to rescue you. Just remember everything I have taught you.)

The one downfall of Charles Blackwood is that he didn’t learn enough Italian. I’ve been fluent since I was five years old. My father has a plan. A plan to have me rescued.  

“Si papa.” I look to Charles.  “He said to take me to my room and wait for him there.”  

“Fine.” Charles takes my arms and moves me up the stairs. “You know, I’m not stupid, Amelia. I know your father said something else to you.”  We enter my room and he spins me to be pressed against the now closed door. He whole body seems to be covering me. “What did he say, Amelia? Don’t lie.”  

I try to push him away but it’s useless. I slump against the door and look at him.  He said this wasn’t part of the plan but that I earned it.  

Charles smiles sinisterly. “This is the plan, baby.  I’m getting what I was owed six years ago.” He tears at my shirt and i scream.  

“Stop! Let go of me!” I swing my arms but then he grabs them and pins them over my head with one hand while the other roams my body.  

“You’re so soft Piccola. And warm. Are you warm everywhere?” He undoes the button of my jeans and slides a hand in. “Oh yes, warm and wet.”  

“I don’t want this, please stop,” I plead. 

“No,” he says as he pushes a finger in. I squeal at the intrusion and its like he gets off on it. “So tight Piccola.  Does Everett not please you enough? Is he just that small?” I shake my head but he stops it with a sharp thrust into my pussy and his palm buts my clit. I gasp and Charles chuckles. “So responsive.”  

He starts to pump his fingers at an unrelenting pace. “Come for me Piccola. Scream out my name.”  

“No!” I try to close my legs but he forces them open with his thigh. He’s fucking me with his fingers and my traitorous body begins to tingle. A soft moan escapes from the amount of pleasure he is giving me. I close my eyes and thing of Curtis.  Curtis is doing this to me.  Curtis loves me and loves to see my body break for him.  

“That’s it, Piccola.  Give in. Let me feel you break.” Charles curls his fingers and I shatter. I cry as my orgasm washes over me. He doesn’t stop. He works me through it until i collapse in his arms.  Only then does he remove his hand. He takes his cum soaked fingers and licks them clean. “Delicious.”  He pushes me so I’m on my knees, ripping away my clothes and takes me from behind. No matter how much I scream or cry, he is unrelenting until he finishes inside me. “I can’t wait until i can do that every night,” he tells me as he button ups.  He yanks me towards the bed and I fall beside it.  “Stay here until its time.”  He exits and locks te door from the outside.  

I curl up on the floor and cry.  I cry for the humiliation, the degradation, the stolen pleasure.  

I cry because now, I’m not sure Curtis will want me after Charles took what wasn’t his.  

Curtis 

Where half an hour from the Giovanni cmpound when I get a text.  

MG: She’s here. Security is heavy.  

I smirk as I read the message. Its amazing what people will do to right the past.  

Fifteen minutes after the meeting ends.... 

“Everett, can I have a word?” 

I looked at Mario Giovanni. “I thought we are done negotiating. Shouldn’t your successor be here?” 

Mario looked around. “Please Curtis. For my daughter?” 

That set off the alarm bells. “What about her?” 

“Walk with me.” I walked out to his yard. “You know, this was Amelia’s favorite place. Her uncles and I had built her a play house for her princess parties.” I see a dilapidated wooden house that has ivy growing over it. “Many of my associates said  I should get rid of it to remove the memory of my traitorous daughter. But no, its the only thing I have of her. Its also the only place where the camera and microphones can’t reach.”  

My head whipped to him but he motioned to keep quiet. “The guards will give me a minute so pay attention.” I nodded.  “You will receive a call in a few hours that my daughter will have been taken from your home. Charles will have someone take her and he will work to bring her back here.  You need to go home and check on your family. I will ensure my daughter is safe.”  

“Why would you allow it to happen?” 

“Because he can’t be stopped. I will keep you updated on what is happening. Allow him to think you are chasing him. I will do my best to protect her.”  

“Why now?” 

“I will explain later but for now, know that I love my daughter very much.”  

Present 

As we assemble down the street, Jensen pulls up a map of the house that Mario had provided. “According to our insider, there are guards on every landing on each staircase. We need to send in someone in to distract.  The problem is, we don’t know where Blackwood, Giovanni or any other guards are or stationed.”  

“Giovanni is in his garden,” I said, unblinking.  “We only have to contend with Blackwood and his minions.”  

My team looks at me before Clint clears his throat. “We can access the attic if we are quick on the side,” he points. “Coming from up top gives us an advantage.”  

“I’ll do it,” Natasha volunteered.  

“No,” I reply.  “I need you to be the eyes for us since you know the house. We’ll send Johnny up.” I looked at the man, Johnny Storm. “Think you can handle that kid?” 

“No problem. I’ll cause a diversion.”  

“Get into places,” I tell them.  I look at Natasha. “Are you sure?” 

“I owe her and her mom to get her back alive.” Natasha pulled her red curls into a pony tail.  

“Just watch yourself,” I said and kiss her forehead. “You’ll be in alone for a bit to scope. I’ll be thirty seconds behind you.”  

Natasha nods.  “If anything happens, the combination to the lock box in my room is 12-03-19-84.”  

“Nat, if...” 

“This is the life I chose when I joined the Giovanni family.  This is just a precaution.  I plan on coming back and marrying Adam.”  

My gut is telling me this is a bad idea but I just nod and she gears up.  My coms crackle and I hear Johnny, “Flame on.” Smoke billows from the side of the house before I hear him again.  “I’m on the roof.”  

“Ok, Nat, you’re up.” She moved but I stopped her. “Please be careful.”  

“Take care of our girl ok?” Nat smiles.  “See you in a minute.” She enters the house and I send a prayer.  

I’m listening to comms as different people enter the house at different points. “Breaching the attic,” I hear Storm say. I can hear thumps as people hit the ground. Clint taps me on the back and we move into the house. Each area is clear as I see a couple of Blackwood’s goons on the floor. “Natasha,” I whisper. “Where are you?” Silence greets me and I look at Clint.  

“May be she got bogged down, he replies.  I have the layout. Presley’s old room was on the third floor to the left. I think she may be there.”  

“Ok, let’s move.” We move through the staircase, checking bodies as we go.  We get to the mid-landing between the second floor and the third floor and I see a shock of red hair under another body. “No!” I pull the goon off of Natasha and her eyes are closed, two bullet wounds across her chest, blood trickling from her wounds. “Nat!” 

“Sir, we have to move,” Clint says.  “I’ll call someone to get her. We won’t leave her. We need to get to our queen.”  

There is water in my eyes. Presley's best friend is gone and she may never forgives me for this. I wipe at my eyes and then hear a blood-curdling scream. Its my girl, my Kitten, my queen.  

My Presley.  

I charge up the stairs and follow her screams. I kick in the door and see Charles holding Presley, using her as a human shield, a gun to her head. “Let her go, Blackwood,” I growl.  

He just laughs. “Who do you think has the upper hand here? I know its not you.”  

“Kitten, are you okay?”  She nods but squeaks when Charles tightens his grip. “Stop!”  

“Never. She is mine.” He turns his face towards her and sniffs her hair before kissing her cheek. “Hmm, she smells good enough to eat.” His sinister smile tuns back to me. “Now, drop your weapon and step back out. Another move towards us and I will cut her.”  

“Ok, ok.” I dropped my gun and kicked it towards them. I raised my hands and move towards to the door. “I love you Kitten.”  

“I love you,” she rasped.  

“How very touching,” Charles sneered. “Now...” before he could finish the sentence, Presley elbowed him, causing him to drop the knife. I grabbed her arm and pulled her towards me.  

“Curtis!” She wrapped around me. I kissed her head, thankful she was ok.  

“Go, Clint is on the stairwell.” I spun us around, my back to the room.  “I’m sorry Kitten but I need you to run.”  

Presley’s eyes widen.“Curtis look out!” 

I turned back and that when I felt the knife slide into my gut, my eyes now on the face of the deranged man holding it  

Presley 

I watched in horror as Charles stuck the knife into Curtis. I screamed and Charles pulled the knife back out.  

“Look at what you made me do, Piccola. I ruined my shirt.” He laughed as Curtis fell to his knees and then his back, holding on to the wound.  Charles just laughed and laughed, like the psychotic animal that he is.  I feel to my knees and put pressure on the wound.  

“Hang on baby, just hang on. Clint!” I screamed as Charles began to wipe the tears of laughter from his face, smearing Curtis’s blood on himself.  

“You sound like you want to save him, Amelia.  Why?  You’re mine.”  He was starting to make sense again and I knew my time was limited.  I saw Curtis’s gun on the floor. I grabbed it and stood up, pointing it at him  “What are you going to do, Amelia? Shoot me?” 

“I could. Or I could send you away for a long time.” I griped the gun tighter, trying not to end this so fast. 

“Do you even know how to use that, Amelia? Hmm, I bet you are so scared right now.  Hand me the gun Amelia. Be a good girl.” He reached for it and I took a step back.  

“It's funny you think that I don’t know how to use this, Charles.  I’m a mafia princess.  My father and my uncles have been teaching me about guns since I was five years old.  The most dangerous person in this room is me.” I cocked the gun back and pointed the gun back at Charles.  

“You’re too sweet, too innocent to murder me Amelia. You really want to live with that sin on your conscience?”  He mocked me.  

“For the last fucking time, my name is Presley.”  

Every seen a bullet hit a skull?  It has an interesting effect, especially as close range. Rather gross. 

Charles head snapped back and he was dead before he hit the ground.  I dropped the gun and went back to Curtis. “Hang on baby, ok, someone is coming to help ok?” 

Curtis looked up at me and smiled, blood already coating his teeth. “I’m happy I got to see you again, Kitten,” he labored. “Will miss you.”  

“No, don’t say that, Curtis.  You promised to marry me, you promised we could make babies, to make siblings for Joshie and Evie,” I sob. “Clint! Please, someone help!!” 

Curtis reaches up to cup my face. “I love you. Tell them I love them too.  Take care of them.” 

“I love you too, but please. No! Curtis, no! Please don’t leave me! Curtis, don’t close your eyes!”  

I don’t feel the mass of people that rush into the room to help him. All I can see are his eyes closing for the last time.  

“Curtis!” 

Epilogue

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

@kmc1989

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@lokislady82

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #chris evans fanfiction #curtis everett #curtis Everett au #chris evans au #chris evans smut #Curtis Everett smut #mob story #five kings of boston series #Presley #Curtis Everett x ofc #ofc Presley Adams #Presley - FKOB #chris evans

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Weeks 197 & 198

A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 30 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE.

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

My Angel - (Steve x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Blue Bonnets - (Brock x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Mission Dad - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Open Your Eyes - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Like Animals - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

One hundred degrees - (Steve x Gender Neutral Reader) - @holylulusworld

Lost in the Dark (Part 3) - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim

Into You - (Bucky x Reader) - @flordeamatista

Code Red Delivery - (Ari x OFC) - @hollybee8917

Built Differently - Faboolous Fumbles - (Stucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

Snow - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Evermore - Part 2 - (Ari x Reader, Andy x Reader) - @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Evermore - Part 3 - (Ari x Reader, Andy x Reader) - @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Picnic - @nekoannie-chan

Finding Home (4) - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Indecent Proposal - (2) - (Stucky x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Reconnect - Where Did the Time Go? - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Your Mark On Me - Part 8 - (Steve x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Between Past and Present - (Steve x Bucky) - @hollybee8917

Donut: The Hole Story - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Hidden Agendas - (Ari x Reader, Lloyd x Reader) - @labella420

Pain - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Welcome Home - (Curtis x Reader x Jake) - @stargazingfangirl18

In a Red Dress - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Lighting the Flame Above - (Steve x Clint) - @hollybee8917

Experiment - (Brock, Logan H) - @nekoannie-chan

It's not the same - (Steve, Brock) - @nekoannie-chan

Saving the Captain - (Steve, Sinthea) - @nekoannie-chan

Security Jammies - (Ransom x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Goes With the Theme - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #missy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #brock rumlow x reader #Ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson x reader #andy barber x reader #stucky x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #curtis everett x reader #jake jensen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

[navybrat817]

April Reading List

Hey, lovelies! I haven't had much time to read and will add more as I can, but here are the fics I had the pleasure of reading and reblogging throughout the month of April. Please show these writers some love and heed the warnings for each fic. Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Banner by yours truly and divider by the talented @saradika .

If any writer does not wish to be included in this list, please let me know.

Love, thanks, and happy reading!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

What's Up, Buck? by @late-to-the-party-81

Hope is a Dangerous Thing For a Woman Like Me to Have by @buckets-and-trees

Bandaged with Love by @jobean12-blog

SALT by @buckets-and-trees

Triage by @writing-for-marvel

Hello, Neighbor by @sunshine-on-my-mind

Burning Desperation by @rookthorne

Take Some More by @slyyywriting

Passionate Negotiations by @targaryenvampireslayer

I Wanna Be Yours by @buckycuddlebuddy

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Pound the Alarm by @rookthorne

Other Sebastian Stan Characters

God the Bounty Hunter x Reader

Call Out to Me by @mickeyhenrys

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Dead End by @shadeysprings

Steve Rogers x Reader

Rewritten by @intrepidacious

Other Chris Evans Characters

Ari Levinson x Reader

Stoned Sex by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Bad Moon Alphas by @biteofcherry

After Hours by @flordeamatista

Curtis Everett x Reader

Within the Shadows by @shadeysprings

Jake Jensen x Reader

Husband Material by @thornsnvultures

Miscellaneous Characters

Blind Dates and Secrets by @alicewonderao3 (Dean Winchester x OFC)

Through the Eye by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (John Wick x Reader)

Trapped by @ironlady1993 (Tony Stark x Reader)

March ⚓ February ⚓ January

#navy's fic recs #reading list #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #lee bodecker x reader #god the bounty hunter x reader #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader #jake jensen x reader #john wick x reader #dean winchester x ofc #tony stark x reader #show writers some love

[trashbag-baby666]

Everyone’s Incomplete. And Who’s the Best at Saving Face?

Summary: Everretts girlfriend truly never wants to give John a break from her disgusting comments.

WC: 1,460

C/W: Mentions of John having an ED, Hurt/comfort.

MOTA Masterlist!

John stared down at the slice of pizza sitting on the plate in front of him. The grease from the pizza staring at him like this was some competition. He kept curling and uncurling his toes in the ill-fitting bowling shoes, his hands resting on his knee caps tapping his fingers against them. He needed some kind of social out but he felt stuck in the dark gray plastic chair at the bowling alley. John knew Gale was just in the bathroom and knew he expected John to eat the piece of pizza. The one that was still challenging him everytime he looked down.

He couldn’t throw it away Curt was just getting them a refill on the pitcher of Dr. Pepper. That and Gale told him to make sure John didn’t throw it away.

Maybe this wouldn’t have been the case if John would’ve been having a good day. But he quite frankly, hadn’t. This morning he threw up the peanut butter and Nutella toast.

So, of course he knew Gale would know he would be going on an empty stomach.

He felt embarrassed like some toddler stuck at the table because he wouldn’t eat vegetables. His partners turn away from catching him if tried to slip it to the dogs.

“Do you ever eat?”

John felt his heart drop to his ass at the sound of the wicked witch herself, Ava.

Everett’s evil girlfriend as they called her…do you ever eat? It rang and bounced around John’s head like a tuning fork. Then he felt the turn of his stomach and the sudden wave of nauseating fear of throwing up hit him. He most certainly would not let Ava get the power of seeing him cry. John pushed his chair, keeping his gaze on the carpeted floors of the swirly colorful bowling alley carpet. He went around the corner and down the hall and pushed the door open. Almost hitting Gale with the door, letting out a sob covering his mouth.

“Hey, hey, John sweety.” Gale basically caught him, “What happened?”

John leaned his head into Gale's neck letting out another wet sob. “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here, it’s okay to let it out.” Gale rubbed his back. John couldn’t hold it in anymore, he had been damn near in tears right before they left the house.

Curt came back holding the two pitchers of soda, his eyebrows furrowed as he didn’t see John where he left him a couple minutes ago. But Ava was standing at the high top table looking at her phone and texting. She let out a loud frustrated sigh as she most obviously was texting Everett.

“Did you see where John went?” Curt set the pitchers on the table.

She rolled her eyes with enough force she turned her head, “I dunno…I just asked him something and he stormed off.”

Curt could tell that his simple question was boring her from the two seconds she had to look away from her phone. “What’d you…no. Fuck you Ava.” Curt turned on his heels and stormed to the bathroom the atomic bomb going off in his brain…what the fuck did she say to him?

Curt opened the bathroom door and saw the two boys standing there. John sniffled into Gales' neck. “What happened?” Curt felt the blazing red, hot anger building up inside him just seeing John that upset.

“I don’t know?”

Then it clicked in Curt’s brain, he turned on his heels storming back down the hall and into the main part looking for Everett. What was he going to do when he found him? He’s not sure…yet…he wanted to punch him.

He saw Everett arguing with Ava by the counter. He’d wait till they were done and he would maybe say something; although, he never did.

“Curtie?” That sweet angel voice sang to him.

“Hey, doll face.” Curt kissed his cheek putting an arm around him, “Do you know what Ava said to John?”

“No, I didn't even see him walk away.” Ken’s lip fell into a pout, “She’s so mean to him.”

“I know, I wanna fuckin’ knock her perfect fuckin’ teeth out.” Curt clenched his jaw, balling up his fist.

“I do too but, sadly, that's an assault charge.”

“Do you think Everett’s dad would agree with me if I punched him?”

“Don’t punch anyone, babes.” Ken took curts free hand and began rubbing his knuckles that always seemed to have some kind of bruise or cut on them.

He knew he was right. Curt you shouldn’t punch anyone…well some…

Everett came storming back, his fists clenched. “Hey, outside.” Curt stood up nodding towards the door, catching Everett’s shoulders.

“What?”

“You heard me?”

Everett felt the steaming panic now coursing through his veins as he followed Curt outside of the bowling alley and around the corner of the parking lot. This was it…he was about to get his ass beat by Curt, prepare for the pain…

“What the fuck did she say to John?” Curt spat out at him.

“I don’t know, she didn't say anything about him to me?” Truthfully, they’d been fighting because she had wanted to go through his phone.

“Why are you with her, Ev? She’s a bitch, I’m sorry but it’s true, I’m not sorry actually. You see the way that she treats him when you drag her along to everything we do! You never say anything either becuase you’re a fuckin’ coward. You’re a Coward, Everett. You know just as well as everyone else that John has his shit going on and he does not need her stupid fuckin’ remarks when he’s basically in his own home. Fuck you, Everett.” Curt shoved him back.

Everett stood there silently for a moment then sunk his hands into his pockets to grab out a cigarette and his lighter.

“Ew, what're you doing?” Ava came around the corner, her keys already pulled out of her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“We’re leaving, come on.”

“Whatever, Ava. I gotta go get my shit and say bye to the guys.” Everett snapped, pointing back towards the door.

“Okay well hurry up.” She rolled her eyes. Everett wanted to punch the brick wall so badly but he knew what that would entail…broken hand and a fucked up football season.

Everett came back in and found his vans in the pile of the guys shoes. He found an open seat away from the others and toed off the bowling shoes.

Then Gale walked up…when you get your shoes on, can we talk?” He couldn’t read Gale's voice, he sounded calm but not necessarily in a positive way.

He followed him over to the doors, far enough out of earshot of the others as Everett started to fear for his life in another way. If you had gotten Gale upset you were in deep shit…and that’s about where he was gonna be.

“Look, Everett I love you, you’re one of the coolest guys I know and you’re one helluva football player. But I also love John, and he’s going through a very difficult time and you know that. I’m not getting into it, but I think for now it would be better if you didn’t come around for awhile. I can’t control who you talk to but I think me and John need a break.”

Gale sighed and squeezed Everett’s shoulder then turned on his heels disappearing back into the bowling alley…well obviously this was Gale's way of telling him to leave.

So he did. Not because he wanted to…not because Ava wanted to. Because he didn’t know what other options he had.

John sat in Gales' car, his head rested back on the headrest, staring out the window. The thousand yard stare Gale hated seeing on him.

“Are you doing okay?” Gale rubbed his thigh.

“I guess.” John sniffed, he didn’t know how to be okay. He felt guilty once again pulling Gale away from something .

“Is there anything I can do? Do you want to take a nap together, when we get home?”

“Please.”

“We can take a nap, I’ll make us dinner and then we can watch whatever you want till we go to bed.”

“Okay.” John smiled a bit through the dried up tears. “Maybe tomorrow I can swap lives with Meatball for a day?”

“Maybe, but I don’t know if you’ll like having to watch Meatball with your body getting all kinds of cuddles.”

“You wouldn’t cuddle me if I was Meatball?”

“Yes I would still cuddle you, John.”

“Good because I would totally cry and no one can turn away from a cute crying dog.”

“God, I love you, John.”

“I love you too.”

-

Thank you for reading!!! Liked and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

Brought to you by Military La La Land @mangokitkats @ihearteugeneroe

#masters of the air #mota #hs au #title after matt maltese song #clegan #gale cleven #buck cleven #john egan #bucky egan #everett blakely #everett blakely x ofc #ken lemmons #curtis biddick #curtis/lemmons #curtis x lemmons #toxic relationship #mentions of ed’s #angst

[po03sficrecs]

Authors I 10/10 recommend

A.N.: This list will be updated from time to time as I discover new writers on this app, also, if there are favourites of yours that aren’t here let me now, I’ll check them out ! Also some of these might be 18+ only so please respect each author’s rules/guidelines.

Chris Evans

@time-for-a-lullaby

@k-evans-reads

@secretswiftymarvelfan

@onsunnyside

@theycallmebecca

@milkathedudz

@andydrysdalerogers

Chris Evans’ Characters

@secretswiftymarvelfan

@imaginedreamwrite

@drabblewithfrannybarnes

@spectre-posts

@onsunnyside

@theycallmebecca

@andydrysdalerogers

#chris evans #steve rogers #ari levinson #jake jensen #andy barber #frank adler #lloyd hansen #harvard hottie #jake wyler #syd #colin shea #curtis everett #ransom drysdale #hugh ransom drysdale #captain america #x reader #x ofc #x oc #johnny storm #marvel mcu #the red sea diving resort #the loosers #snowpiercer #the nanny diaries #not another teen movie #knives out #what's your number #the grey man #gifted #defending jacob

[ambersgems]

New Writing Blog!

Hey, Guys!

I really want to get back into writing, and I figured this blog would be a good way to do that! I will write for several different fandoms, so just ask! I'd really like to get into a groove, so as many asks as you want!

I think writing should be a collaborative process, so anytime you have ideas or just want to chat about your favs, my inbox and messages are always open!

I am kind of thinking this blog may end up with like a gemstone theme? But maybe not.

As of now, I am super into Dean Winchester (Jensen Ackles), Chris Evans and his plethora of characters, and Sebastian Stan and his characters.

If anyone has any requests, please send them my way! I will probably start out slower with drabbles, imagines, etc and work my way up to full on fics.

If you stuck around to read this whole post, thanks! haha

#writing blog #chris evans #jensen ackles #sebastian stan #ari levinson #andy barber #curtis everett #bucky barnes #steve rogers #dean winchester #sam winchester #jake jensen #imagines #drabbles #blurbs #x you #x y/n #x ofc #dean winchester x reader #ari levinson x reader #andy barber x reader #curtis everett x reader #chris evans characters #spn #spn fandom #dean winchester/reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester drabble #supernatural #Dean Winchester blurb

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | threesome

pairing | stepbrothers!jake jensen and curtis everett x best friend!reader

warnings | stepcest? jake and curtis are stepbrothers, reader is their best friend. big innocence kink, almost little!reader vibes. mentions of other "sex lessons": masturbation, fingering, hand/blow jobs, eating out. sex toys (dildo used, bullet vibe mentioned.) nipple play. clit rubbing. fingering. hint of orgasm delay. she comes hard :D lots of aftercare!

word count | 1,353

an | @brandycranby and i were discussing the idea of brothers jakey and curtis a little while back and i thought it would be a fun pair to try out for this prompt- thanks for always slutting out in the dm's with me, brandy bby!! i treasure our naughty brainstorms so so much <33

what if stepbros jakey and curtis are childhood best friends with a suuuuper innocent reader (you!!), and when you all reach your early 20's they decide to help you out and teach you "how to play with boys" since you're so clueless/in need of guidance and (they wanna take all your firsts) hehe 🥺

they start out with stuff like how to make yourself feel good and how to make them feel good. little lessons on fingering yourself, giving a hand/blow job, etc. then they work up to being more directly involved: fingering you themselves, teaching you all about your adorable little clit ("this is your clit, baby. it's a very special part of your body that only us and you should touch" 🫠), eating you out, etc.

maybe they want to work up to some more substantial penetration next, but neither of them feel quite ready to put their dick in you (they'll get there eventually, ofc 😌) so jake suggests ordering a dildo to help you practice. they get you on board by telling you they have a fun new toy to show you how to use 🤠 you loooved the little bullet vibe they got you, so of course you're happy to learn about more toys!!!

you look so darn cute when curtis opens the door to let you in, he has to fight off the overwhelming urge to just pin you up against the wall and fuck you right there before jake can even set eyes on you 🥲

flouncing obliviously in your pink mini skirt, your perky tits bouncing in your flimsy white camisole. two little pigtails with bows in your hair, sticky lipgloss from the drugstore spread across your plump lips, you don't know how crazy you drive your poor friend. "c'mon bunny, jakey's upstairs waiting for us," you reach for his hand so trustingly, his heart melts 🥺

he brings you up to his and his stepbrother's shared bedroom. jakey's waiting on his bed with the toy's box sitting beside him. "there's our pretty girl," the blonde pulls you in for a hug, "are you excited, sweetie? it just came in the mail today!"

they help you into one of your usual positions: jake behind you with his legs on either side of you, your back pressed against his broad chest- and curtis in front of you, doing most of the instructing and work. there's a shared mutual understanding that you feel safest in jakey's arms when trying out scary new things, something that curtis can't help but feel a little hurt about. he's always been the more serious of the two, while jakey is more fun and carefree. in this particular instance tho, curtis doesn't mind, as he gets the most hands-on action

"remember how we said this new toy's gonna help stretch you out, sweetheart?" curtis is gently introducing the new tool to you as jake pulls down the waistband of your skirt, helping you out of it as well as your panties. by now, you've outgrown most of the initial embarrassment and shyness and don't show any resistance to being undressed by them

you nod, big eyes fixed on curtis to show him you're listening. you gasp softly when he removes the toy from its packaging. they started out at a reasonable size, but it still seems massive to you

"look cutie, we found a pink one!" jake's hooking your legs over his to open you up nice and wide before rubbing your inner thighs soothingly with his big hands to help settle your nerves

"we'll go nice and slow, bunny. you just tell us if it's too much," the man before you is saying seriously, wanting to assure you feel safe and comfortable before proceeding

naturally, you need to be warmed up before introducing the toy. by now the brothers know your body well enough to do this with relative ease. jake focuses on your tits, slipping his hand under your cami to tweak and tug at your sensitive nipples. curtis plays with your clit just how you like it, pulling back the hood and rubbing steady circles right on the head 🥺 doesn't take long to turn you into a dripping, writhing mess with their skilled hands on you

when you're appropriately aroused, they share a glance, both pulling away in unison. you were well on your way to building up to an orgasm, so their sudden abandonment earns plenty of protesting whimpers

"shhh bunny, easy," curtis is murmuring as he brings the toy up to gently start rubbing the smooth silicon head over your slippery slit

"c'mon sweet thing, you're okay," jake adds in, reaching down to rub your thighs again. they both watch with great concentration as the dildo is gently worked into you. curtis uses gradual pumping motions, forcing a bit more of the toy up into you each time

the stretch burns a little, causing you to whine softly. "easy baby," jake reaches down to smear some of your wetness over your throbbing clit to help lessen the pain. he and curtis work together at a steady rhythm, slowly but surely working you up to take the entire length of the object

once it's fully inserted, curtis takes a moment to push it up as far as he can and hold it there, groaning softly at the way your poor pussy flutters around the base. he can feel the tip hitting right up against something hard- what he guesses must be your cervix. "you're so tiny, sweetheart. can barely take the whole thing," he's marveling at how small your channel is, how much it's struggling to take even a smaller-sized toy "you want me to fuck you with it, bunny? want me to fuck this pretty little pussy with your brand new toy?"

you look up at him with the biggest eyes, nodding so sweetly. "use your words, cutie. tell him what you want," jake instructs you

your voice is trembling as you do as you're told, "p-please, please fuck me with it. please fuck me with my new toy" 🥺

"good girl," curtis is beaming, resuming the pumping motions of the dildo inside of you. jake quickens his finger over your clit, leaning down to kiss your forehead as you lay further back against him. grabbing at one of your tits with his free hand, pinching at your pebbled nipple

"please, p-please," you're starting to chant as curtis increases his speed and force

"you gonna come for us, bunny? gonna give us a nice big one? c'mon, sweetheart. let's see it," he's working you up further with his words

"come for us, baby. c'mon, that's it. almost there..." jake chimes in, squeezing and rolling your puffy clit between his fingers just as you tumble over the edge. they both gasp in unison, smiling widely as your orgasm washes over you. your little cunt spasms wildly around the toy, the glorious feeling of being so full and stretched out as you come only prolonging the period of burning pleasure

curtis lets you fully come down from your high, leaving you stuffed with the toy as jake gives you another kiss over your hair. "easy takin' it out," the blonde instructs his stepbrother, "poor baby must be so sensitive now"

they take good care of you, easing the toy out when you're ready and cleaning you up. they have a little basket just for you that they use for aftercare, has all the stuff they need: a washcloth, a new pair of panties for you, some chocolate, maybe a stuffed animal and blanket hehe 🥺

you spend plenty of time after snuggled up between them. they love cuddling you and doting on you after your lessons are over. they make sure to teach you how essential aftercare is; they always tell you "if a guy doesn't give you at least as much aftercare as we've been giving you, dump him and tell us where he lives" hehe 🫶they seriously love you so much, they're so proud of you for being so brave and taking your new toy 💕

#eun's writing #kinkmas 2023 #jake jensen #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen smut #curtis everett #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett smut #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen x you #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x y/n #curtis everett x you #the losers #the losers fanfiction #snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfiction #jake jensen imagine #jake jensen one shot #jake jensen drabble #jake jensen headcanon #jake jensen blurb #curtis everett imagine #curtis everett one shot #curtis everett headcanon #curtis everett drabble

[dungeonpuppykai]

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

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett smut #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x ofc #dark!curtis everett #dark curtis everett #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans characters #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans character x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Boston Bears: Rugby Player AU Masterlist

Series Summary: This is a series following Chris and Co as Rugby Players. Each story follows a different player and can be read as a stand-alone! Outside of their own story, the reader will be given a name and become an OFC (E.G. Off-Limits reader becomes Elena in Fake Out and following stories, and Tommi in Off-Limits becomes our reader in Fake Out, I hope this makes sense!)

Warnings for each series will be included in their Masterlist!

Rugby Explained

Off-Limits: Chris Evans x Reader

Fake Out: Ari Levinson x Reader (Coming Soon)

The Assist: Johnny Storm x Reader (Coming Soon)

Hat-Trick: Jake Jensen x Reader (Coming Soon)

The Opposition: Curtis Everett x Reader (Coming Soon)

Sin-Binned: Andy Barber x Reader (Coming Soon)

#niamhwrites #Boston Bears Series #Rugby AU #Rugby Player!Chris #Rugby Player!Ari #Rugby Player!Johnny #Rugby Player! Jake #Rugby Player!Curtis #Assistant Coach!Andy #Chris Evans #Ari Levinson #Johnny Storm #Jake Jensen #Curtis Everett #Andy Barber

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Body Heat: a Snowpiercer-Marvel Mashup Story pt 2

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Curtis Everett x ofc

Tags: food insecurity, post apocalypse, age difference (18/34), dark!fic, implied/referenced suicide, poverty, arranged marriage, implied/referenced past cannibalism, hurt/comfort, attempted sexual assault

Summary: She’s too young for him to be eyeing her up the way he has been, but this is the Tail section, and Curtis has caught other men looking more than once. Everything is a commodity in the Tail. Everything. It won't be too long before he has to step in and claim her.

Author's Note:

On Tumblr, forbidden ToS content categories are: "terrorism, hate speech, harm to minors, self harm, sexually explicit material, violence, threats, gore, and mutilation."

And while you ARE apparently allowed to write a fictional story about incestuous, torturing, anorexic racists who rape their siblings, murder babies, kidnap, hate minorities, cannibalize, terrorize, and self-injure in the plotline of said story,

you ARE NOT allowed to write a teenage character who engages is any sort of sexualized conduct in a story.

For this one category and this one category alone, Tumblr staff (or at least one particular individual 🧌 😏on staff) makes no distinction between fictional stories with teen sexuality and C.S.A.M (which is frankly gross and unintelligent). They can and will delete your blog without any notice.

So, in the face of this VERY SPECIFIC criteria for Tumblr's censorship choices, I have changed the age of a character in this story from 16 to 18. That's not how the story was originally written, and the story can still be read on Ao3, which does not arbitrarily censor their content. But my m/f stories seem to be most popular on Tumblr, so I wanted to include the altered version in my library here.

(To be spiteful, however, I have changed the ofc from 16 to 18 and Curtis from 28 to 34, thus WIDENING the original age gap from 12 yrs to 16 yrs😆) 🖕you, staff troll

🖤With that said, this is a dark story regardless, so if you're looking for fluff, I suggest you look elsewhere.🖤

(Wait! I haven't read Part 1 yet!)

Part 2 - "A Microcosm of Humanity, Boiled Down to its Base Elements"

Mealtimes in the Tail are more about social interaction than they are about food—Kind of hard to have a dinner party when the only things there are to feast on are protein blocks and a meat that you’re pretending is chicken, after all. But they make due.

They have dishes now, at least. A couple hundred plastic bowls and cafeteria cups, dimpled and chipped at the rims, but still serviceable. They’re some of the newer amenities, part of the package that the council negotiated for in last year’s talks. It’s never much but it’s something, brings them just a smidge closer to being able to live like human beings, rather than animals.

It’s been twelve years, and still they’re celebrating over bowls when they should be aiming for antibiotics. But conditions were so miserable after Boarding that even the smallest concession from uptrain feels like a luxury now. Curtis would prefer the progress be faster, but he’s not in charge. He’s Gillam’s second in command, and Gillam’s so old and frail now. After the turmoil of the Year Two (and Three, and Five) Revolts, Curtis made him a tacit promise to not resort to such violent measures again lightly. For now, negotiated castoffs and increased recyclables from uptrain will have to do.

He doesn’t see Rose again for the rest of the afternoon. Four hundred people living in a metal box tend to brew discontent and interpersonal problems over the tiniest of things, and as one of the Tail’s five elected, a big chunk of Curtis’ days are spent solving petty conflicts between the Tailies. He navigates his way through a list of waiting disputes in the market car and in the bunks, making his rulings on what’s fair, and trying not to worry obsessively over Rose and where she is and how she may be doing and who may be bothering her.

But he’s not entirely successful, because something still loosens in his chest when he catches sight of her—looking peaceful and sitting quietly alone at dinnertime. He walks over, grinning the closer he gets as she continues not to notice his approach. “... Hey Petal!” he whisper-yells right beside her as he taps her shoulder and sinks down to sit next to her on the floor.

She gasps and almost drops her bowl, but a relieved smile splits her face when she sees that it’s him. “Curtis! Hey. It’s you.”

“Course it’s me.” He frowns quizzically at just how relieved she looks. “Who’d you think it was?”

“Nobody,” she excuses quickly, shaking her head and inching over to make more room for him. “Just glad to see you, is all. Today’s been … long.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Did you get the clothes to Gilliam?”

Her smile softens and she nods. “Yeah. And the arm to Coulson.” She gestures down the car to where Phil is sitting, using the rudimentary limb with clumsiness but steadfast determination. “He has to practice, but I think it’s gonna work pretty well for him.”

“I’ll bet.” Curtis smiles, happy for him. Phil’s also one of the elected, and along with Gilliam, Curtis, The Man, and Banner, he’s always done his best to help the people in the Tail survive. … That’s why he’s currently missing his arm from just above the elbow.

Curtis remembers the taste of human flesh. He wishes he didn’t, but he does. And what’s more, he wishes it’d tasted worse than it had, wishes he didn’t have the memory of how his mouth had watered when he’d finally gotten to eat for the first time in over a week. He averts his eyes from Coulson, ashamed, setting his bowl on the floor and sliding his right hand up under his left coat sleeve to trace the jagged evidence of his own failure.

It hadn’t tasted bad. That’s something he’s never said out loud. Because it’s too shameful. Talking about the early days isn’t forbidden, per say, but there’s an understanding amongst the Tailies that you don’t discuss the actual experience of eating human flesh. Unless it’s in private with someone very, very close to you, you don’t talk about the worst things that went down in those days.

Curtis glances back to Phil, wondering. He doesn’t actually know who he’s eaten. Back in the Desperation, there had been a decision amongst the volunteers that their donations would be mingled and prepared anonymously, to avoid people knowing—even family members, even the donors themselves. Curtis gets lost in the horror of the memory for a minute or two as he stares across the car at Phil, wondering, remembering the taste …

He snaps out of it when Rose says something to him, and he realizes that he’s still got his right hand stuck up his left coat sleeve, touching the scar. Rose’s voice pulls him out of it, like a fog suddenly lifting, and Curtis hastily picks his bowl back up, asking Rose to repeat herself and then mustering a cheerful answer for her as he puts the memories of the past back in the box on the shelf in his mind.

He and Rose sit shoulder to shoulder and converse over their bowls of stew. It’s one of only a few things that Tailies ever get to eat, and consists of broth made from cooked down protein blocks, and chunks of meat from the only other animal that shares the tail section with them.

Yeah, they eat rats. Curtis has stopped caring at this point. In fact, he’s not sure he ever really cared in the first place. Once you start with cannibalism, the only way to go is up. And it doesn’t taste too bad—especially since they’ve graduated from catching the rats to actually breeding them in cages. Between that and the artificial salt substitute that Curtis negotiated as part of last year’s package, things have a nicer flavor to them than they used to.

“Didn’t you work in the kitchen car for a hot second?” he says between one sip and another, when he’s paused to try and use his fingernail to get a stringy bit of meat out from between his teeth. “What’d MJ have you doing in there?”

Rose makes a face. “There are only a couple steps to making this slop, Curtis. Use your imagination.”

He laughs at the comical shudder she gives, and she kicks him for laughing at her. “So dramatic,” he teases. “What do you have to compare it to, anyway, huh?” He rolls his eyes. “Train babies. Don’t realize how good you have it.”

She gasps and pokes him as though he’s heaved a grave insult at her. “I am not a train baby!”

“Barely.”

“I’m eighteen!” she says, as if that makes her a full fledged adult (Curtis swallows heavily as he thinks that in some ways, it does). “I remember food from Before,” she insists, and Curtis shakes his head in amusement at her.

“Fine. What do you remember?” He’s breaking one of his own rules for her, talking about Before. It should alarm him but it doesn’t. “What food?” he taunts.

She sticks her chin out haughtily and thinks about it, before declaring, “Goldfish. And noodles. I remember noodles.”

It takes all Curtis has inside him not to snicker at her expense. He does want this girl to like him, after all. He looks down at his own bowl of stew and smiles fondly. “Goldfish crackers and noodles. That’s very specific.” The kind of thing a young child would remember. “Is that all?”

She twists her lips and admits, “Yeah.”

You have blocked a lot of it out, Curtis thinks sadly. Just not the parts that happened after Boarding. “It’s better that way,” he tells her. “Makes all of this more bearable.” Rose has never really had a life that was anything other than “bearable,” and while that is something of a mercy for her, it also makes Curtis want to be the one to give her more; be the one to introduce her to finery and pleasure, show her what it can taste like, what it can feel like. “There’s things I want to get for us,” he tells her, speaking quietly because he doesn’t need the people nearby overhearing and getting themselves worked up. “Things for the Tail, food I want to negotiate for. I think this might be the year.”

Rose looks intrigued. “What?”

“Lean closer,” Curtis whispers. “This is top secret.”

She smirks and scootches even closer to him, until they’re pressed together from hip to shoulder. “What?” she whispers.

Curtis looks her in the eye and lets the tension build for a moment, trying his damnedest to keep his expression serious, and then he declares, “Goldfish and noodles.”

She gives an outraged squawk and moves to swat at him for making fun of her, though she’s laughing herself. “You suck!”

Curtis stays her hand, pulling her into a one-armed hug and apologizing through his own laughter. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Shh. I’ll tell you.” He calms down from laughing. “I’ll tell you, I will.”

“Jerk,” she mutters, but he can hear the fondness in her voice.

“Chickens,” he whispers in her ear. “You remember those?”

She purses her lips thoughtfully, then shrugs in a way that tells him she really doesn’t. “That’s an animal,” she says, in what she doesn’t realize is a sad demonstration of her limited knowledge. “A bird.”

“Yeah,” Curtis says. “Yeah it is. You know the New Year’s eggs?” Every year since Year Five, a wheelbarrow from uptrain arrives on New Year’s Day bearing the coveted gift of hundreds of gleaming white, hard-boiled eggs—one for each blasted soul who lives trapped in the Tail section. Rose hums and Curtis nods. “Those come from chickens. They lay the eggs and you can eat them. It’s a good source of food. And you can kill the chickens and eat them, too. Eat their meat.”

“But … don’t baby chickens come from the eggs?” Rose asks naively.

Curtis smirks. “Yeah, but that’s when they’re fertilized. If a male chicken isn’t around fucking the hens, then the eggs just come out, and you can eat ‘em. They don’t have baby chicks in them.” He watches Rose’s face screw up at the stark visual, and is surprised when she bluntly declares,

“Oh. So … like a period, with us.”

Curtis almost swallows his tongue. First of all, he wouldn’t have expected Rose to be able to make the comparison. Because she may be old enough to bleed, but they don’t exactly have comprehensive sex ed in the Tail. As far as Curtis knows, the girls are taught young—very young—what sex is, what it leads to, and how to avoid it at all costs. Curtis doesn’t think he’s heard a person talk openly about these things since before Boarding. It just isn’t done. The women handle their stuff themselves, and the men have their heads bitten off if they interfere.

“Um,” he says, face heating. “Yeah, I guess. Except you don't lay eggs." Rose snorts and Curtis winces and scratches awkwardly behind his ear. “So anyway, I want to get us some chickens. If we had those, it’d help a lot.”

Rose stares pensively into the depths of her soup bowl, with its globulous broth and stringy bits of meat. “It’d taste better than this?”

Curtis scoffs. “Most things do, Petal.”

“Oh God, you’re really sticking with that, aren’t you?”

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze, laying out his vision for the future. “I want to negotiate for another car. With dirt and chickens.”

“Dirt?”

“Yeah. They grow things uptrain. Crops. We could too. We could raise chickens in half of it, grow potatoes in the other half.”

Rose looks at him like he’s just announced he’ll be negotiating for the moon. “They’ll never give it to you,” she whispers. “Why would they?”

“If I could threaten them with something big enough. We might have the bargaining power.”

“What would you threaten them with?”

He smiles sadly and squeezes her shoulder. “I dunno. That’s what I’ve gotta figure out.”

“But you’re not gonna … I mean there’s not going to be another war, is there? Not like before …”

There’s genuine fear in her voice when she asks, which makes Curtis feel like crap. Everyone had suffered back then. Many had died. He thinks about how Rose would’ve only been eleven or so, during the Year Five Rebellion. Just a kid, still playing with the crummy little doll Curtis made for her. “No, Hon,” he promises gently. “No. There are other ways. Other things we can do to gain leverage. It just takes time.”

“What ways?”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t help it,” she pouts. “I may not know many things. But I like to know them.”

He smiles fondly. “I know, Petal. You’re curious. Always have been. You like to know the scuttlebutt, as they say. You’re not afraid to ask questions. I like that about you.”

“You do?”

“... Among other things.” He sees her cheeks color prettily, and realizes he’d better stop talking. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’d tell you if I could, but these things are above your paygrade. Me and Gilliam’ll figure it out.” He shoots her a wink. “That’s why they pay us the big bucks.”

She titters at that, because they both know that there’s no such thing as money in the Tail. Oh there’s currency, for sure, just not the kind that’s handed over as stacks of bills. Curtis lets his eyes drag over the few parts of Rose’s body that he can see: her attractive face and the slope of her neck, the delicate suggestion of a collar bone where it peeks out before it’s swallowed up by her sweater. He looks away. “I want to improve things for us. Change is possible. There are things we can get. We just have to work for it.”

“What things?” she presses, leaning closer.

He thinks about brushing her off, but he can see that she’s genuinely curious, and the interested gleam in her eyes sways him. Because ideas can mean hope, and he wants her to have hope. They’ve both seen what can happen when there isn’t any.

He tells her about the basic medicines and medical supplies that could be useful, tells her about the items they could receive if people uptrain were more willing to bargain. “More castoffs would go to us, instead of into the recycling machines,” he tells her. While it is true that some old and unwanted items eventually make their way into the Tailies’ “market,” the sad fact is that many more materials are cleansed, disintegrated, and recycled for use through the train’s 3d printing machines. Curtis has never seen them, but due to his yearly talks with a woman named Melanie, he now knows that they exist, and they’re why not much gets sent back to the Tailies.

“We’d have more clothes, toys and books, all sorts of new things.” Of course when he says “new” he only means new in the sense of new to them. To people in the front, Tailies are second class citizens at best, subhumans at worst. The funny thing is, Curtis doesn’t take offense at it like he used to. He’s learned by now that it’s human nature to kill, cheat and steal, clamoring all over each other whenever resources are limited. They’ve literally eaten the weak in the Tail, after all. It’d be hypocritical to hold the first class passengers to a higher standard.

No, Snowpiercer is just a microcosm of humanity boiled down to its base elements. Nine-hundred people surviving on a miserable little train, barreling endlessly around the frozen corpse of the planet. Of course there’s going to be subjugation of the weak so that others can have more. Curtis doesn’t hold it against them anymore, but he sure as hell isn’t going to take it lying down. The Tailies were never ticketed passengers. They forced their way on, they scraped and scrounged and earned their survival. And if they ever get the chance, they’ll turn the tables on the passengers uptrain in a heartbeat. Curtis makes speeches about “leveling the playing field,” but he doesn’t have visions of utopia. Not really. He just wants to die in a feather bed.

“What would we have after chickens?” Rose asks, drawing Curtis out of his gloom. She knows as well as he does, what the definition of a “pipe dream” is, but it’s fun to pretend with someone you like, and Curtis likes her. Always has. He likes that she hasn’t turned grey and dull like everyone else in the Tail. So he indulges her “what ifs” and they continue to tease each other over various colorful and increasingly stupid imaginings: how they’ll have potatoes, and then beef, then televisions, bathtubs, a swimming pool.

At some point, Curtis realizes that he’s actually managed to make her smile, and giggle. Even sitting on a cold steel floor slurping at a bowl of rat and god-knows-what stew, he feels like a king knowing he was able to do that. “You’re really beautiful when you smile,” he blurts out, soaking up the way that her eyes get just a little bit wider and her lips part in surprise. He averts his attention back down to his bowl, pleased as punch. “‘Course, I always think you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, fully intending for her to hear.

She gets quiet after that, bashful and seemingly deep in thought. Curtis doesn’t worry though, because when everybody settles in to listen to that night’s story, she goes to fetch one of the blankets off her bunk and brings it back. She plops herself right back down next to Curtis and hands him a corner of the blanket to wrap it around both of their shoulders. He obliges. The assembly car fills up for that night’s entertainment, and just before the lights are dimmed down to their lowest level, Curtis locks eyes with Tanya from across the car, who’s shooting him a scrutinizing look. He’s grateful to escape her judgment for the moment, but he knows she’ll be on him before long.

They set out the tall stool at the head of the car, and Painter, the Tail’s historian, climbs up and settles on it.

A quiet man of short stature, Painter’s been performing the nightly stories since almost from the very beginning. He has a way of seeing things that others don’t, a way of weaving words and details together in graduating, elaborative cadence; like his drawings, like strings on a loom, always managing to convey the true heart of a matter in a way that resonates with people. It’s the closest thing to watching a movie any of them will probably ever get again, and in Curtis’ opinion it has just as much value as the food they feed their bodies with. People need more than just food to survive. They need community, they need love, they need hope.

Painter sits silently at first—a sign that he hasn’t decided on the topic and is taking suggestions that night. Someone calls out in the dimness to suggest The Man for tonight’s story, and a murmur of general agreement goes through the crowd. Up ahead on his stool, Painter nods. The Man was well known in the Tail, having long-served on Gillam’s council, among other things. Curtis hadn’t been lying to Rose, when he’d said that her father had been a good leader.

In the crook of his arm, he feels her shift subtly. Aware that this might be hard for her, he leans over and kisses the top of her head. “Hey, are you okay?” he whispers, giving her the option. “You want to go?” But she shakes her head and tucks herself further into him, so Curtis relaxes back, looking forward to getting to hold her in his arms for the next hour or two.

Painter does The Man justice. Children are always kept in another car during storytime, so that the plotlines don’t have to be watered down for their sensibilities, but even still, Curtis doesn’t doubt that Painter knows Rose is present, because he takes care to soften the corners of the story where she features, and to use gentle words when the most painful memories are fleshed out.

For over an hour, Curtis lets his eyes slip closed and the words wash over him. He tucks his nose into Rose’s hair and breathes the scent of her in, holding her small, soft body against him. He can feel every shift and sway that she gives as she hears the story, too, and they enjoy their time together, connecting over the shared intimacy of Painter’s words.

At some point, he brings her into his lap, and she comes so easily—like she was just waiting for the invitation, and is relieved that he wants her there. This isn’t something they’ve done before. Not like this. And he can tell by the slight tension in her body that she knows it, too. This is new. It could be the first time a man has ever showed her attention like this, and Curtis wants it to be good and easy for her. He gently rubs her back as the story stretches on, relieved when he can feel all the tension slowly leaving her. “Good girl,” he whispers against her hair.

She hums and rubs her cheek on his chest with complete trust, and Curtis suddenly remembers what it used to feel like to sink into a full, hot bath. Is this what it means to be touch starved? he wonders. Probably. It’s been so long since he’s been genuinely intimate with another person, that he’d almost forgotten the feeling.

Eventually he can hear the tone of Painter’s words changing, can hear it all coming to a close as he wraps up his retelling of that night’s story. Curtis has never hated anything more. Please, he thinks. Please let him keep going. Let him keep talking just a little bit longer so she’ll stay in my arms. He doesn’t want to let her go.

… Maybe if he plays his cards right, he won’t have to.

Tanya does confront him that night, cornering him by her spot before he can follow after Rose on her path to the wash car. “Pretty sure that girl knows how to bathe herself,” she says, hand planted firmly on Curtis’ chest. “She doesn’t need you, Curtis.”

Curtis loses sight of Rose going into the next bunk car, and he settles back onto his heels, glaring at Tanya. “I’m trying to look out for her.”

Tanya raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “You sure that’s all you’re trying to do?”

Curtis’s eyes narrow. “Have you been paying attention? Look around.” He nods at the crowded bunk car around them and speaks in a hushed tone. “You’re in charge of all the female stuff, you should know better than anyone what’ll happen now that her father’s gone. I’m only trying to protect her.”

Tanya purses her lips. “Uh huh. Protect her with your penis, is that how?”

“Jesus.” Curtis takes a step back, crossing his arms in frustration. He leans back against a metal rail. “I’m just being realistic,” he eventually says, after sulking over it for a moment. He respects Tanya—she’s a crucial part of the Tail, helping the women who get pregnant and give birth, helping the girls when they start developing (and, eventually, when they start attracting the attention of the men). “You’ve seen them looking?” he asks, not having to look at Tanya to know that she understands him. “So what am I supposed to do? Just wait until somebody else stakes their claim?”

Tanya makes an angry sound, though it isn’t directed at Curtis. “I stop them.”

“You stop the ones you can,” Curtis says lowly. “But eventually—”

“Eventually is eventually. Right now is right now,” she hisses.

Curtis turns back to her. “We play it your way and the first guy who stakes his claim gets her. That’s how it works. You know that. Is that what you want, huh?” Tanya’s face works in frustration, and Curtis softens. “Hey,” he says, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. “I don’t like it either. We do the best we can with what we have.” He feels her shoulders rise and fall in a beleaguered sigh.

“I boxed Batroc’s ears last week,” she tells him; her way of giving tacit approval. “Keep an eye on that dirtbag.”

Curtis nods. He’s aware of who the biggest threats are, currently. It’s the men in their twenties and thirties who prey on the up and coming girls. Marriage isn’t a thing in the tail so much as claiming is. The men have a sort of ‘first dibs’ honor system that Curtis despises, but that he can’t change on his own. Not when the majority is so set on it. “I’m not going to force her,” he promises Tanya. “Okay? I’ll give her the choice. You know I will.”

Tanya’s jaw works, but eventually she nods and turns to the side to let him pass. Curtis pats her shoulder in thanks and heads off in the direction that Rose went with her towel.

He gets there just a few seconds too late—or at least, that’s what he thinks when he hears her crying out from the women’s side of the wash car. Curtis barrels around the partition, heedless of whoever else may be in there when he can hear Rose in distress.

There’s a man standing at her back, pushing her face up against the wall of one of the stalls. She’s naked, the shower spraying aimlessly not even a foot away. She’s struggling, crying … and the man’s pants are halfway down his thighs.

Curtis sees red. “Get the fuck off her!”

Everything happens in a blur: him pulling the man back by his shirt and throwing him onto the floor at the opposite side of the car, the man’s head hitting the wall, Rose crying out in fear, Curtis going over to gather her naked body into his arms. “Are you okay?” he asks breathlessly, holding her as she sobs and presses her head of soaked hair against him. His hands slide over the water-slicked skin of her back, his heart in his throat. “Did he hurt you?”

She sobs and shakes her head, clinging to him. “Curtis!”

“Shh, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He looks across the car at the man, who’s now rubbing his head with a pained wince. Curtis feels rage consume him and he has no control over his actions as he abandons Rose by the stall and stalks across the car to punch the guy square in the face. He immediately grabs his shirt collar and hauls him back in. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” he roars.

“Stop!” the man—a guy Curtis knows only as Hodge—coughs out, speaking through blood and what’s likely a broken nose. He holds up his hands to defend himself from further assault, and Curtis shakes him with a furious growl.

“Did you touch her?! What did you do? I’ll kill you!”

“I didn’t!” Hodge coughs, pushing against Curtis. “I didn’t do anything! I was just—”

Curtis slams him back into the wall of the car. “Then why’s your dick out?!” Hodge sinks down the wall to the floor and Curtis follows him down. “Answer me!”

“I just wanted to talk to her!”

He’s about to reach down and rip this guy’s nuts off, but Rose calling to him from the other side of the car draws his attention away: “Curtis, please. Curtis!” She’s standing there—naked, wet and shivering, futilely trying to cover herself. She looks at him pleadingly through her tears. “He didn’t. You stopped him. He didn’t.”

It’s enough to make Curtis rein himself in from further violence. Rose needs him more than he needs to hurt Hodge. Still, he shakes the man again as he hauls him back up to standing and shoves him towards the exit of the car. “This isn’t finished,” he warns him at the door, pushing him through hard enough that he falls to his ass on the other side. Curtis points at him. “You’ll pay for this.”

He slams the door and goes back to Rose, who’s still standing there looking lost, shivering, cold. The shower’s still running, so Curtis hurries over to turn the water off. He grabs the towel that’s hanging on the hook and brings it to Rose, intending to bundle her up as quickly as he can. She takes it and wraps it around herself, but it ends at mid thigh and Curtis’ eyes are drawn to a trickle of red running down her inner thigh. All the blood drains from his face. “You’re bleeding,” he says, horrified.

Rose looks down at it and sniffles. “Oh.”

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Curtis breathes, already turning to go back out and finish the job.

“Curtis! Curtis wait!” Rose grabs his arm with both hands as she shakes her head frantically. “I’m fine. It’s my period. He didn’t hurt me.”

Curtis calms down, his chest heaving from adrenaline. “You swear?” he urges, grabbing her upper arms and holding her in front of himself to get a better look at her. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that she’s dripping wet and rattled, but not visibly hurt.

“I swear. I’m okay.”

His eyes track back down to the blood on her leg, suspicious until he looks beyond and sees her pile of clothing sitting over on a shelf. There’s a small folded rag there the likes of which he’s seen before; what the women pass around silently amongst themselves when they bleed. Curtis calms down as he realizes that Rose is telling the truth and not just lying to keep him from murdering Hodge. He lets go of her upper arms, suddenly aware that she may not want him touching her right at this moment. “Sorry,” he mutters, not knowing what else to say. He feels like he’s just run a marathon, his heart is beating so fast.

Rose surprises him by throwing herself into his arms again, a sob making her whole body heave against him. “Thank you,” she cries, hugging him, hiding her face against his chest. “Curtis, god. If you hadn’t come in …”

“Shh. I did. I did come,” he reassures her, wrapping his arms around her fully again now that he knows it’s welcome. She feels so small. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

They stand there for who knows how long. Minutes, at least. Calming down together. Rose’s crying fades, and Curtis’ blood pressure re-enters the stratosphere. He can feel the red hot anger and instinct to kill bleeding out of his mind the longer that time stretches on. He becomes aware of how cold Rose must be in only her towel and still all wet. “Here,” he says, ushering her back towards the shower. The stalls have changing areas right in front of them, and he steps back so that she can have privacy. “Get dried off. Get dressed,” he says. “I’ll …” his gaze falls back down to the trail of red on her leg. He swallows thickly and averts his eyes. “I’ll be right here.”

Shakily, she nods and pulls the curtain. She gets dressed, and when she opens the curtain again, her hair has been towel-dried and hangs limply about her face. She looks shyly up at Curtis. “Hey.”

“C’mere, Honey.”

She folds back herself into his arms eagerly, whining and pressing into him. “Thank you,” she whispers. “God, Curtis. Thank you.”

“I should’ve been here,” he grunts, thinking of how Tanya had held him back. He silently curses her. “I knew something like this would happen,” he hisses to himself, though he regrets saying it when he feels how it makes her shudder against him.

“Can we get out of here, please?”

He nods and starts to lead them towards the door of the car. He’s not surprised to find Hodge gone on the other side. Curtis silently fumes about what he’d walked in on, as he leads Rose backtrain. They walk through the car where her spot is, and Curtis gives her hand a squeeze when she looks back at it and makes a questioning noise. “I want you with me tonight,” he tells her, gentle but firm, because no way in hell is he leaving her alone now. “Please?” he coaxes, pleased when she looks up to him and nods.

“Okay.”

He smiles softly. “Good girl.”

Curtis has a good sized spot. Certainly big enough for two, which he’s grateful for when he guides her to scoot in across the bed. His is the third bunk up out of four, which means climbing a few rungs, but once you’re up there it affords a fair sense of privacy, especially once he draws the curtain across to close them in together. He flicks the small lamp on, its dim bulb flickering to life and giving just enough light to see by.

He’s got his blankets spread out on the bed. There’s plenty of room enough to sit up and move around, all of his worldly possessions hung to the wall or else strapped against the top of the bunk above. “Home sweet home,” he says, gesturing around half heartedly. “Nothing special.”

“It’s nice.” Rose looks around with a little curiosity before tucking her head down. She shrugs. “You’ve got one of the lights. Our spot doesn’t. I mean … my spot,” she amends quietly. “Our neighbor has the light.”

The lights are built into the walls, meant to faintly illuminate what were once the train’s original baggage racks, powered by the Arc Reactor and impossible to move. But some people have managed to rig up their own lamps from salvaged materials and a little creative wiring over the years. There are no windows in the Tail. Curtis has heard that there are windows uptrain, but he doesn’t know whether to be jealous or not. Would it really improve anything, to have a view of the wasted, frozen world they left behind? He’s not so sure. At least this way they can pretend that Snowpiercer is all there is, the delusion only ruined whenever the Jackboots arrive to deliver food or raid them.

Curtis settles beside her and knocks their legs together. “I’ll keep my eye out for something in the market,” he promises. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be in the dark.”

She smiles as though pained, looking down at her lap. “Being pretty is what got me into this mess.”

Curtis sighs. “No. It’s not just that, Hon.” He cups her face, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. “It’s not just that.”

“What then?”

He smiles sadly. “Look, if there’s one thing you gotta understand about men, it’s that we covet the rare … and the pure. You’re good. Truly good, in a way most of us aren’t. In a way we can’t afford to be.” He drops his hand and turns away, feeling gross for having told her that, for having included himself in the roster of ‘men’ who think like that. But it’s true. “That’s why you stand out,” he mutters. “None of us are good the way you’re good.”

“What? But you’re good.”

Curtis scoffs. “Please.”

“You are! You’re on council aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “That means I’m good with people, not good. There’s a difference.”

“No,” Rose insists. “No, you help everyone. You lead us, try to make life better for us.” She gets incensed when he continues to disagree. “You do! You … you make dolls for little girls who’ve lost all their toys. You protect us.”

Curtis slumps back against the wall. “Is that what I did back there? Protected you?”

“Yes. Curtis you saved me. You stopped him from …” She falters, unable to say the word, and the silence grows uncomfortable between them. Eventually she stares down at her lap and scoffs bitterly.

Curtis looks over. He doesn’t like the pinch that’s settled between her eyebrows. There’s something strangely self-deprecating about it, and he can’t figure out what’s going on in her head. “Hey.” He nudges her knee with his. “What are you thinking, Hon?”

She shakes her head. “Hodge,” she whispers. “He said things.”

“Oh god. Don’t. Rosie, don’t pay attention to anything that cretin said. Did he threaten you? Because if he did, you know I still have half a mind to rip off his—”

“He said that somebody would choose me, and if it isn’t him it’ll be someone else ‘staking their claim’.” She looks rather mortified as she repeats it. “And he’s not wrong. I mean that’s the way it’s done, isn’t it?” she asks bitterly. “The men. They choose who they want. We don’t get a say. Not really.”

“Rosie,” Curtis mourns, wishing that he could spare her, wishing he could tell her that she has choices, choices that people will respect. But he doesn’t want to lie. She doesn’t deserve to be lied to. “Hey,” he says instead. “You know I care about you, right?”

She nods, sniffling. “Yeah.”

“You should sleep here. Not just tonight but every night.” He can tell by her reaction that she realizes what he means, and he’s pleased when she leans against his side, still seeking comfort in him. He relaxes now that the hardest part is done. “Would you like that, Petal?” he asks softly, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. She scoffs at the nickname, and Curtis kisses the top of her head. It’s been a long time since he’s had another person in his bunk—a long time. Not having a partner is lonely, sure, but with the way things are in the tail, it’s easier just to jerk off. Romance is all but dead, as is evidenced by the Tailies’ near-transactional customs regarding sex and relationships. “Will you?” he checks, relieved when she gives a little nod and a sniffle.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t want that either.”

They sit there in silence for a while, and just as Curtis starts to wonder if Rose has fallen asleep, she whispers, “What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“Men and women. Before. How did it …” she pauses, considering what she wants to say, or perhaps how to ask. “My dad and my mom,” she settles on. “They were married. They loved each other. Nobody chose my mom. They chose each other.”

Curtis nods and gives her arm a squeeze. “Yeah. That’s how it was.”

“Tell me?” she asks, sounding for all the world like a child asking for a bedtime story. “Please?”

Curtis rubs her back, resigning himself to telling her the truth. “People met,” he says. “At school, at work, through friends. If they liked each other romantically, they dated.”

“What’s ‘dated’?”

He winces where she can’t see. “When you liked someone, you’d ask them out on a date. You’d meet them and go do something nice together. Something fun. Get a drink or see a movie, eat a meal in a restaurant.”

“Did the man decide the dates?”

He frowns. “Sometimes. Women would too, though. Sometimes they’d be the one to ask the guy out. It just depended.”

“What happened next?” Rose asks.

“Well … you’d just keep spending time together, you’d keep dating. If the people decided not to date anybody else, they’d agree to be a couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend. … Or husband and wife.”

“What’s the difference?”

Curtis winces at how sad it is that she doesn’t know that. The long term implications of their confinement in the Tail section are obvious and jarring, at times like this. He licks his lips. “Marriage was more serious than dating. More permanent. You might break up with your girlfriend eventually, but if you made her your wife, then that was like saying you wanted to be together forever.” He doesn’t bother getting into the concept of divorce, knowing that she just needs a basic understanding of the matter. “That’s how it was,” he finishes. “Before.”

Rose is quiet for a long while, thinking it over. Eventually she says, “And now the men choose.”

Curtis hates how resigned she sounds about it. “What happened in the wash car isn’t allowed,” he says, aware of the way her body tenses against him. “I’ll make sure Hodge is punished. But the thing is, Sweetheart … I’m worried he won’t be the last.”

Rose sniffles. “It’s ‘cause my dad’s gone, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t help the matter. But you’ve been old enough for a while now, for some. And I’ve seen them looking.”

“For some?” Rose peeks up at him. “Not you?”

Curtis hesitates to answer. “... You’re young, Honey.” It’s not like he can say that he wants her. But saying that he doesn’t would be a total lie. He might not be looking yet, if he didn’t have the other men to worry about; but he does have to worry about them, and so he has been looking. “I’ll make sure Hodge is punished,” he reiterates. “Severely. Even with the way things are now, that was completely beyond the pale.” He feels that hot surge of fury boil up inside him again as he thinks about it: Rose standing there, shivering and crying, Hodge with his hands on her, his dick hanging out of his pants. “He was going to rape you,” Curtis growls. “He needs to pay.”

“And the others?” she asks. “You’ll stop them?”

His chest aches at her unshakable faith in him and what she thinks he can do. “I can only protect you one way,” he murmurs, pulling her close and burying his nose in her hair so that she can’t look up at him with those big doe eyes again. “Has Tanya talked to you much?” he asks. Her head moves against him in a little nod, but she doesn’t say anything. Curtis kisses her hair. “What happened in the wash car could happen again. Someone’ll want to claim you.” She whines and rubs her face against his sweater, clinging to him. He pulls her into his lap just like he had during storytime, earlier that night. “Hey,” he soothes, “I wish it could be different, you know? Wish I could take you outta here, make other people respect your choices.” He sighs sadly. “That’s just not how it works anymore, Petal.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “Would you take me on a date, Before?” He hesitates, and she notices. She looks up at him. “You wouldn’t?”

“You’re too young for me,” he admits. “Or you would’ve been. Before.”

“Now I’m not?” she asks, and Curtis averts his eyes uncomfortably, because of course she’s still too fucking young. If they were still in the World she’d be in highschool, going to prom and the mall, glued to her phone. Learning about sex from school and porn and from fumbling encounters with boys her own age, not from some jaded midwife in a squalid train car.

“Now …” he sighs. “Now, it’s different. It doesn’t make it right, but girls become fair game once they’re about your age. And any man who’s interested can try for you.”

“I know that,” she whispers. “But what about you? Are you interested?”

Curtis’ mouth is dry. He can’t answer. So he nods smally instead. He’s surprised when she doesn’t seem frightened or upset by this admission. He lets his hands hold her more securely, fingers dipping into the curve of her waist from over her sweater. “I care about you,” he croaks. “I want to protect you. And the only way I know to do that is to claim you myself.”

“Will you?” she asks. She lays her cheek back against his chest and yawns. “Claim me?”

Above her resting head, Curtis grinds his teeth. “Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay Hon?”

“Mm.” She nods sleepily. “Okay. I trust you, Curtis. Thank you for helping me today.”

He doesn’t answer her, just holds her against him and rubs her back as she gradually falls to sleep. He’s not the man she thinks he is, and she should be in her own spot right now, not tucked away in here with him, because sooner or later he knows he’s going to take advantage. He’ll have her, and he’ll make sure that every other man in the train knows that she’s his. That may not be what she really wants, or even what’s good for her.

But oh well, he thinks. At least it’s better than the alternative.

Masterlist

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This has been a fill for:

Event: @badthingshappenbingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky

Square N4: "to serve man"

#snowpiercer #snowpiercer au #marvel #marvel/snowpiercer mashup #mcu #mcu au #marvel au #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x ofc #curtis everett x you #marvel fanfiction #dark curtis everett #dark fic #age g4p #age difference #arranged marriage #forced marriage #dystopia au #train au #original female character #dub con #non con

[cevansbrat0007]

How are the trio couples doing? Anymore couples trips?

The girls are in the middle of planning a road trip to see their favorite band play a show in Manhattan. Or they will be as soon as Ruby is off restriction. Story and Baby Girl have been on their best behaviors, and are counting down the days until the third member of their group is permitted to hang out with them again.

However, this trip is gearing up to be a lot of fun. And their Daddies, Andy, Ari, and Curtis having given their brats each of their respective blessings. All they care about is the girls making it safely to the show in Manhattan in one piece. Should be an easy drive up from Boston.

Too bad our favorite trio of Brats forgot to mention that the concert is actually in Manhattan, Kansas - not New York. Oops.

#cevansbrat0007 asks #chris evans #ari levinson #curtis everett #andy barber #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #curtis everett imagines #ari levinson imagines #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction #curtis everett fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #ari levinson x ofc #curtis everett x ofc #chris evans x black!reader #andy barber x black!reader #curtis everett x black!reader #ari levinson x black!ofc #cevansbrat0007 trio fics #the trio daddies #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!ofc #curtis everett x woc!ofc #andy barber x woc!reader

[andydrysdalerogers]

Preview! Presley (A Curtis Everett Mob AU)

Welcome to Concord.  An up-and-coming town outside of Boston.  Where kids can play with their friends and shop owners advertise with signs on the street.  It’s a quiet town.  An unassuming town.  A town where one-man rules and no one forgets it.  This town, Concord, is Curtis Everett’s town. 

Curtis Everett is a hard working man. As the head of the mob of Concord, he does everything he can to provide for his wife and children. His life is perfect. Until it's not.

After a devastating accident, Curtis is alone with his children and needs some serious help. 

Presley Adams needs to find work and fast. Running from her past she just wants to lay low and earn enough to get her out of town. Until she starts working for Curtis as his live in nanny. 

As she falls in love with this family, can she stop her past from finding her? Or will her past be the end of the Everett reign in Concord?

This will be book two of the Five Kings of Boston series. If you missed book one, Aurora, you can find it HERE

I will be starting this on Thursday 11/23 as a Thanksgiving treat and it will hopefully be updated on Thursdays.

Any guesses on who the villain of our story will be? Comment or reblog and share your idea!

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Master Tag list and Story tag list are open!

Snippet below ⇣

I walked the man out the door and was shaking his hand when I noticed a young woman wandering outside the gate of my home. She looked about 24 or 25, with light brown hair and glasses. She wore a black peacoat with long black boots. Something about her reminded me of my Anna.  As Adam walked past her with a nod, she approached the steps to the house. “I apologize, is this the Everett residence?” 

I couldn’t help but stare at her. Dark curls hung down her back with blue green eyes framed by black framed glasses. Her full lips were a sweet pink, and I had the sudden urge to feel them against mine.   

What the fuck? 

I mentally shook myself and cleared my throat. “Yes, and you are?” 

She gave me an earth-shattering smile and I was blown back. It was a smile that was just like my Anna’s. 

“My name is Presley. I am here for the nanny position.” 

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #chris evans fanfiction #curtis everett #curtis Everett au #chris evans au #chris evans smut #Curtis Everett smut #mob story #five kings of boston series #presley #Curtis Everett x ofc #ofc Presley Adams #Presley - FKOB #chris evans