Curtis, all scary and a growly, comes up to tell us we're in his seat. We apologise nervously and get up. He sits but catches us before we go and forces us into his lap.
I love that this thot made you think of me. You know I’m such a hoe for Curtis 🤭
You didn’t realize that you had gone to the wrong bar until it was too late.
You were “too introverted.” Everyone always nagged you about it, encouraged you to be more social, more spontaneous.
So after talking through what felt like some only mildly intimidating ways to get outside of your comfort zone with your therapist, you focused on the first adventure on your list.
Going to see your favorite local band live by yourself.
You decided to make a solo date night out of it. Got all dolled up, felt cute and, while not quite confident, you felt ready to step outside of your comfort zone in this way.
Only, when you arrived at the bar, it seemed so much darker and dingier than the photos on Instagram.
Your nerves, which were already swirling inside of you like an anxiety tsunami, ratcheted up to an 11 as you got a glimpse of a few rough looking characters before scurrying over to the empty table at the center of the room.
You figured it would be the best seat in the house for the show.
Only the longer you sat there waiting, the more you began to doubt you were in the right place.
A jukebox was playing loudly from the corner of the room—a nonstop soundtrack of punk rock and metal.
And despite the fact that the show was set to start in half an hour’s time, you didn’t see any sort of makeshift stage or area for the band to set up.
Brow furrowed, you pulled your phone from your bag and pulled up the bar’s Instagram, your stomach sinking and your face flooding with the heat of humiliation when you realized you were at the wrong place.
You couldn’t even do one thing right, could you?
This is why you preferred to stay at home. It was easier. Safer. You knew what to expect, you had a routine, it kept you calm and quiet and—
“You’re in my seat,” a deep voice growled.
You startled so badly that you dropped your phone on the small wood table at which you sat. Your wide gaze lifted up and up to find a tall, broad stranger looming over you.
His hair was dark and shorn close to his head, his features handsome but surly. He had bright blue eyes that were narrowed on you and a silver lip ring that made your gaze linger. He wore dark skinny jeans, scuffed combat boots, and a sleeveless tshirt that put his tattoo-covered arms on full display.
You watched as his arm muscles flexed, his long fingers twitching at his sides the longer you stared at him—still startled and frozen in your seat.
Well, his seat, apparently.
Feeling another wash of shame flood your cheeks, you timidly glanced around the bar, noting a few mean grins and eager gazes aimed your way.
You got the sense that this was this man’s regular seat, and everyone knew it.
Everyone except you.
“Can’t you read?” He gristled at you, regaining your attention.
You blinked, quavering a quiet, “Yes?”
He leaned down, jabbing his finger at the worn wood table top. You squinted in the dim light of the bar before you realized the carving etched into the surface of the wood wasn’t random, it spelled a name in jagged, artsy scrawl.
Curtis.
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” you stammered, quickly rising to your feet. “I didn’t realize…”
You fumbled with your bag, meaning to step out of the way, but Curtis’ imposing figure blocked your path.
This time, it was his gaze taking inventory of you. His eyes were slow to inch over your body, taking their time as they drank in your cute little dress and denim jacket combo, and all of your colorful accessories.
You looked so out of place, Curtis’ lips tilted at the corners, his silver lip ring glinting as it caught the light and his gaze—darker than before—lifted to meet yours.
Something about the way he watched you now made your belly somersault and roil all at once. You felt suddenly scared, eager to leave, desperate to, and inched around him cautiously, wincing as your front brushed his.
You barely made it a step away before Curtis heavily dropped into the seat you just vacated. His big hand shot out, grasping your wrist like a vice and making you squeak.
His eyes flashed feral—predatory—at that sweet sound before he roughly yanked you back toward him, until you were sprawled in his lap and gasping as some of the other patrons laughed and hooted.
“What are you—“ you started, trying to shove away from Curtis, but your words cut off into a frightened whimper as his hand harshly collared the nape of your neck and tilted your scared gaze up to his.
“You keep squirming like that, I’m gonna take it as an invitation to fill you with my cock right here, while everyone watches.”
You released a shaky exhale, going still as you stared into his dark blue gaze.
Curtis leaned closer, eyes glittering as he whispered, “Good girl,” before sitting back as a waitress appeared beside the table and set down a beer before him.
She didn’t even look at you, in fact, few people did now as your frantic gaze darted around the room, desperate for someone, anyone, to step in and help you.
“They won’t help you,” Curtis murmured, as if he could read your mind. “Cause they know who’s in charge around here. Which seems like a lesson you still need to learn.”
He arranged you in his lap so you sat back against him, trembling hard as Curtis’ hand leisurely smoothed down your side, then over your thigh before shoving between your legs to cup your cunt.
You could feel Curtis grin against the side of your throat as you whined and snapped your legs shut around his hand.
“Be good and quiet while I finish my drink,” he rumbled, reaching for his beer. “Then I’ll take you to the back room and claim your sweet good girl pussy just like I claimed this seat.”
—
Shoutout to @krirebr for helping me come up with a scenario that worked for this!!! ❤️The very first thot that torpedoed into my brain when I read this ask was Curtis with a lip ring 🥴 Then I started imagining him a little punk but also really scary, and didn’t want to go the usual mobster or biker route. So, here we are 🤭
Hey, Chelsea! If you could pick one fictional man to kidnap you here and now, who would it be and why? 😏
Sigh
I wish I could say “wow this was so hard”
But I really don’t want to lie to you Navy! 🤣
It’s without a shadow of a doubt this guy
BUT I HAVE VERY GOOD REASONS!
Check it out below the cut 😏
1. Lloyd is loaded. Like uber rich, like he’s got people to deal with people rich. So I know if I want something this man is ready to just lay down the cash to get it for me. Listen, I may not be overly materialistic, but to know that I could get that new thing just because. Amazing. Sold. Sign me the fuck up.
2. Lloyd’s an asshole, yes, sure. But he’s gonna be soft, just for the woman he loves (could I be wrong about this, sure. But it’s my fantasy, and he is because I say he is)
3. This man is gonna be wild in bed. He’s gonna figure out every single thing that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. But also, he knows what he likes! Which means no guessing game of oh no I hope he likes this.
4. If there’s one thing I love about Lloyd it’s the fact that he’s honest. Somewhat brutally, but he’s honest about his feelings, his anger, his pettiness. There’s no facade, you get what you get.
5. I know I’ll always be safe. If there’s one thing that Lloyd does not put up with it’s people taking/touching what’s his. He’ll walk into hell just to get you back without a second thought for himself.
6. He throws ridiculous tantrums. Now I know what you’re thinking. “Chelsea, you have a small child, why oh why do you want to put up with a man throwing tantrums.” And the answer is: I’m such a brat I love pushing a man’s buttons. And he would be the absolute most fun to play with.
7. I’m pretty sure he’s tatted up under all those prim and proper clothes, which just has me 🫦. Like, please sir let me trace those with my tongue 😏
I’m sure there’s more reasons but this is definitely what came to mind first!
Thanks for bringing Lloyd to me Navy, you know how much I love him 🥰
🧚🏻♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must pick one fictional babe and share a hoe thought including the prompts: sleepy + quiet purr of satisfaction. 😏 Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes & your legs 😘
God bless the Hoe fairy for visiting me on my favorite day… SINDAY. You know I just had to write my favorite fictional babe… Steve Rogers. I simp for that man so hard. I didn’t even know it was physically possible to have your panties drenched on a regular basis by a fictional character until Captain America.
This is my first time doing a drabble or hoe thought so I hope I did alright with this. Happy Sinday Siri!!!
Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader
Word Count: 451
Warnings: fluff, Smut (18+ readers only), oral sex (f receiving), maybe somnophilia if you squint
Steve had always liked waking up beside you, that being the main reason he asked you to move in with him. You had been hesitant at first, only having been together for a little short of a year. You enjoyed your own space and was accustomed to your tiny little apartment. Sure, Steve’s Brooklyn home was far nicer and bigger, but you didn’t mind your rinky-dinky place in Queens.
However, overtime the Avenger had persuaded you. He convinced you that living together was the next logical step in your already thriving relationship. Besides, you practically already lived together with the amount of time you spent at his place or vice versa.
Plus, you loved waking up next to Steve. He was always the sweetest first thing in the morning when you would wake up beside him.
Since moving in together, your alarm clock had developed a thin layer of dust from its unused state. Steve loved waking you up in the morning. Whether that being from bringing you breakfast in bed or from his face between your thighs, he wanted to be at the start of your day.
Today was one of those mornings that his craving was not for a hot cup of coffee. His craving was for you.
The early morning light was shining through the curtains as you groggily came to. You sleepily moaned as you slowly became all too aware of Steve’s face between your legs. His ministrations, must have been going on for quite some time while you were asleep because you were dripping with desire and already close to the edge.
His rough hands held your hips down against the silk sheets, preventing you from moving away from the onslaught of pleasure his mouth was delivering to you. You instinctively grabbed his blonde locks pulling him closer to your sex as you arched your back begging for your release.
A quiet purr of satisfaction left Steve as he obliged with your unspoken request. He began to work you over harder, lapping and sucking on your sensitive nub until the all too familiar feeling bloomed in your core.
You cried out his name, breathy moans leaving your mouth as your orgasm washed over you. Your breath was shallow and labored as you came down from your high. You looked down at Steve, as he lifted his face from between your thighs. A small smile on his lips, you couldn’t help but blush at the moisture that surrounded his mouth and chin.
“Good Morning, sweetheart.” He whispered, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration in his blue eyes.
You couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips, it certainly was a good morning.
