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#curtis everett imagine
biteofcherry · 1 month
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Am I curled in bed, suffering the curse of period, daydreaming about Snowpiercer AU?
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Restoring balance
Curtis Everett x female reader
Curtis Everett Masterlist
Main Masterlist
warnings: dystopian world; harsh conditions; mostly consensual (sliiightly dub-con due to apocalyptic circumstances forcing you to accept certain deals); size kink; breeding kink (obviously, since it's me);
You're one of the people who survived out in the world, not on the train and you've been living in a cottage that's now mostly rickety, but you have a cellar where you store many preserves and you have a small garden with a greenhouse where you grow plants which you then barter with other survivors;
Then one day a small group of train survivors come raiding your place and the idiots attempt to steal from you, ripping even the unripe tomatoes from the bushes, so you attack one of them with a fork and end up being dragged away to their compound, where they drop you onto your knees in front of the biggest, most dangerous looking man you've ever seen;
Curtis frowns and asks what's that all about. His men complain that you attacked them, to which you sneer that you are always open to barter your produce, but you won't let anyone steal from you, or ruin your plants.
Curtis takes the crate they've stolen and walks you back to your cottage, where he surveys the place and closely surveys you, too;
he asks what you'd like to barter that crate for and you point at your old stove and ask if he has parts that could fix it. He agrees and offers a bonus-
closes the distance between you two, trapping you against the old kitchen table
Curtis asks how long has its been since you felt pleasure and you boldly tilt your chin up and blurt out that you give yourself plenty of orgasms and are satisfied with that.
He takes your small hand in his large palm, comparing your sizes, and makes a comment how better it could feel, if your tight pussy got to stretch around something bigger than your nimble fingers
then cups your face and asks when was the last time you've been kissed
a fleeting thought about the first kind of making out with your then boyfriend enters your mind, but it instantly dissolves when Curtis claims your mouth.
You don't remember any kiss to ever feel like this, or any boy to hold you in place with such stoic confidence. It gets you weak in the knees, your breath quickening as Curtis growls into the kiss, turning it more insistent
he lifts you onto the table and tugs down your pants; fingers dipping between your thighs as his mouth descends down your neck
Curtis was right about the size of his fingers feeling so much better than yours, but it's also been so long that the pleasure rides the edge of discomfort and pain;
he's relentless, pumping into you as he forces you flat on your back and rips your shirt. He drives you to the edge, curling his fingers and circling your clit with his thumb, his mouth sucking on your pebbled nipples, teeth grazing sensitive peaks
then he's yanking his own pants open, releasing his painfully hard cock with a groan
When he thrusts into you, your scream echoes through the small cottage. Not even his fingers could've prepared you for that monster of a cock.
He fucks you roughly, mouthing on your breasts, covering them in saliva. His fingers grip all over, mapping out your body through the layers of fabric
when you come - back arched, fingers clenching on the lapels of Curtis' thick wool coat - it feels like true little death as the blinding pleasure ripples with a sting of pain in your unused pussy
Curtis stays buried inside you, groaning in delight as your walls flutter around his cock. But when your aftershocks subside, he's pulling you off the table and pushing you down to your knees
he finishes in your mouth, grabbing the back of your head and keeping you still as he empties down your throat.
He helps you up a moment later, steadying you as you lightly sway. He announces that from now on you will barter only with him.
The next day he comes with parts for the stove, which he fixes himself. You deem it worthy of the whole crate of produce, but warn Curtis that you need time for new vegetables and fruit to grow.
He comes back as agreed, bringing you a full roll of thick, warm fabric and a sewing kit. Since he ruined some of your clothes and the rest of your wardrobe needs care, too, you agree to exchange another portion of your produce, including two jars of preserves
it's also your sneaky way to assure yourself business for the period when fresh vegetables aren't available.
You give Curtis your hand to shake on your new transaction. He smirks, but takes it. Then swiftly turns you around and bends you over the sink.
This time he goes down on his knees, spreading your asscheeks and licking your pussy in reverence. He's damn skilled at making you drip, but the wetter you get, the hungrier for you he becomes
when you squeak "Enough" after the second time he makes you cum, Curtis slaps your ass and sucks on your clit so hard you break into tears;
he finishes all over your back and ass, rutting his cock between your sticky thighs first.
The next time he brings a new sheet of glass for the cracked one in your greenhouse, as well a package of fresh venison. It's been at least two years since you ate meat, so you don't argue much with Curtis when he asks for three jars of your preserves along with a basket of potatoes
it also seems fair to let him fuck your face, until you're a sobbing mess and he spills all over your face.
Each time Curtis visits, you try to compose yourself as blood rushes south to ignite fire in your core. You tell yourself that seeing him is exciting, because it means survival - ensuring you have provisions
But also each time he leaves, you spend the next weeks replaying in your head the things he's done to you as you drive yourself to orgasms.
When Curtis comes to you three months into your agreement, there's a certain smugness to his tone and his haunted, blue eyes shine a happy kind of spark
there's a reason for his satisfaction and it leaves you gasping in awe as he presents you with two living chickens. No, a chicken and a rooster.
"For this-" Curtis starts, diverting your attention back to him
"Ten jars!" You blurt instantly, ready to agree to a full crate of vegetables, as well. Because the chickens would be greatly profitable for you.
Curtis chuckles, shaking his head. He slips off his coat and lays it over the small cage in which he brought the birds in. He moves around the table, standing between you and the cage.
He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up
"For this," his tone drops to a low, dark caress, "you'll let me finish in your pussy."
Your intake of breath is sharp, your pupils widen.
There are many arguments for rejecting Curtis' demand, but they chaotically bump somewhere in the back of your head, while your tongue lies speechless.
"With a chick and a rooster, you'll be able to have eggs to barter, but also eggs to hatch." He points out. "In time you'll get more eggs and more meat. Why shouldn't I demand more from you for that?"
"Because I could-" you lick your lips nervously as the images of Curtis filling you with his seed take over your conflicted mind.
"Oh, I know." Curtis confirms, his undertone betraying a strong desire for that exact outcome.
There were more unfinished counter arguments on your tongue, but somehow they are discarded as you end up in your small bedroom, pinned down to the bed by Curtis' massive form.
You always seemed exceptionally big, which you assumed was also the effect of many layers of clothing, but fully naked he still looks intimidatingly broad. It's a rarity when the remnants of human population were mostly malnourished.
He crowds you, overpowers you, but there's a newfound thrill to be under him.
Curtis takes you in deep, slow strokes, stretching this pleasure into a maddening experience that has you gushing around him.
He growls into your ear how good you feel, how well you take him and how you will take his seed.
As he speeds up, his own voice tattering as his breath quickens too, Curtis groans a mysterious to you confession that he took lives, but now he will give life.
Cumming inside you once doesn't sate him. He flips you onto your stomach and takes you prone bone, hard and primal. Keeps filling you full until the dawn, when he falls asleep with you tucked to his side.
From now on he's always taking you bare. Frequently, not only when he comes for food.
By the time your belly rounds, the forest between the compound and your cottage is cut down. New settlement buildings rise and your little place becomes a part of Curtis' growing kingdom.
You are branded his, as well.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months
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the murder at evergreen university
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a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡
summary:  just a slutty murder mystery
warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive
word count: 11.100
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist
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Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 
Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 
“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 
“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 
Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”
“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 
Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 
“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”
“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 
“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”
“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”
Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 
“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  
“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 
“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”
“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 
Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”
“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 
“Yeah.”
“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”
Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 
“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.
“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”
“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”
Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 
In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 
“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”
“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”
“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”
“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 
Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.
“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.
“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 
Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 
Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”
After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.
“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”
Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 
“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.
“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 
“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”
“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 
“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”
“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.
Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”
Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 
Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 
“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”
“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”
“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”
Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.
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“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 
“What do you mean?”
Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”
“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 
“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”
“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 
“None of us have.”
“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”
“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”
“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”
“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”
Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 
“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”
“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”
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“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”
As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.
Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”
“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.
Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.
“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”
He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 
“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”
“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 
Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.
You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.
“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”
“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 
“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 
“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.
Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.
“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”
“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”
“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”
“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”
“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 
“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 
“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 
“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”
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Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.
“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 
Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”
“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”
“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 
Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”
Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”
“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”
“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 
“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”
“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 
Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”
“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 
“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”
Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”
“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 
“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”
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Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 
“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”
“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”
“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”
“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”
“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”
Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”
“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  
“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 
Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.
“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.
“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”
“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.
“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.
“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 
Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 
Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 
“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 
His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 
“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 
A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 
“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”
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“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 
“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”
Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”
Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 
“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 
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Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 
Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”
“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 
“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 
“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 
Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 
“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.
“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 
“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”
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“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 
“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 
“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 
He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 
“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 
Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 
“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 
You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”
“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 
“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”
Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”
“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 
Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”
Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 
“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  
Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 
“Yeah.”
Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 
“Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”
“I am.”
Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 
“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 
“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 
“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 
“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 
“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 
“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”
“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.
“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”
“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 
Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  
“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”
“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 
Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 
“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 
Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”
Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 
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It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 
The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  
The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 
“Why don’t you go ask him?” 
“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”
Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 
Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”
“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.
Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”
From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 
“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”
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“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 
“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”
“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”
“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 
“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 
Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”
“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”
“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 
Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”
“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.
“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”
“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”
“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”
“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”
Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”
“So…” he echoed.
“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”
“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”
Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 
“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 
“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 
“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”
“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”
“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 
“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”
“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”
Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”
“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”
“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  
Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 
“Know what?”
“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”
Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 
“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 
“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”
“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”
“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”
“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”
“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 
“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”
Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”
“What?” you blinked. 
“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”
“What? Why?”
Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”
Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”
“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 
But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”
Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”
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You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 
You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 
“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 
Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 
The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 
“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 
“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 
“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 
Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”
“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 
The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 
Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”
Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 
“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.
“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”
“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”
Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”
Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.
Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 
“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”
Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 
Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”
“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.
“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”
“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 
Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”
“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”
Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”
“Yes.”
“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”
“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.
“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”
Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”
“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.
“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”
Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.
Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 
“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 
“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 
“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”
“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 
“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”
“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”
Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”
Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”
The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”
The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 
“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”
“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”
Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”
Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”
“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”
The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.
“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”
Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”
Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”
“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”
“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 
In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 
“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 
“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”
After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 
“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 
Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.
“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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dungeonpuppykai · 24 days
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|| Fiddle ||
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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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babyjakes · 5 months
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lock them out and throw a feast.
〈 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. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | food play
pairing | soft!dark!curtis everett x front-ender!reader
warnings | soft!dark!curtis. non-con. crying. restraints. use of gag. fingering. minimal dialogue (curtis is a quiet guy.) oral (f receiving) with plenty of clit focus. messy food play (a whole bakery's worth of sweets.) forced orgasm. squirting. implied multiple (forced) orgasms. written in 3rd person for some reason. showered!curtis :D
word count | 1,698
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an | my snowpiercer knowledge is soooooo rusty i haven't watched the movie in years. this is kind of written in a universe where curtis and his rebellion were able to take over the engine. he picks out a pretty little front-ender as his reward and throws himself a feast... anyway, please ignore any details that might not align with the movie plot. this fic is dedicated to my sweet precious wonderful somny @onsunnyside, she isn't active much these days but of course i wanted to write her a kinkmas piece still, she is so special to me. and i know she loves curtis, so this felt like the perfect opportunity. love you, sonson<33 hope you're well and having happy holidays!
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Everything was just the way he ordered it. An empty car all to himself, with both exits locked, dark curtains drawn. Lights dimmed, just bright enough to see through the stilled air. One shining down stronger than the rest in the center of the room, illuminating his long-awaited bounty. His final reward. His feast, fit for a king.
The moment he had laid eyes on her, cowering and weeping as her family's luxury quarters were broken into, he knew she was his endgame. He promised himself he'd have his way with her once he made it to the engine and overthrew the elite. Now that the hard work was done, it was time for him to revel in his victories. And there was no better way to do that, he had decided, than to feed the hunger that had been eating away at him for as long as he could remember.
He stood back in the shadows for the longest time, just taking in the glorious scene before him. Sucking in a strained breath, he pressed a tentative hand over the bulge in his pants. They were new; everything on him was. As his trusted second-in-commands were preparing his private car, Curtis had disappeared to care for himself and his body for the first time in seventeen years. He had a long, tedious shower, taking his time to remove nearly two decades of filth from his tattered body. Once he was clean, he had first choice from an entire car full of clothing- everything brand new. He remained modest with his choices. All the glitz and glam of the elite had no appeal to him.
Taking a step forward, he let his dark brown overcoat fall to the floor, leaving him in the simple gray t-shirt and utility trousers he had claimed earlier. Biting his lip, he pried his hand from his raging hard-on. He would relieve himself, in time. For now, he wanted to savor every moment he spent building up to that release.
Her quiet whimpers were the loudest thing in the room, accompanied by the low rumbling of the train's machinery in the background. Her crystalline tears only made her more beautiful, Curtis thought to himself. There was something so exquisite about her agonized expression; it didn't matter how wrong or cruel this was. He had given it all, risked his life for that damn train. This was his; he had earned it. He would allow himself that.
His men had done a fine job with the setup. She was as captivating as he had dreamt for all those years- no, she was better. Her body sprawled out elegantly over the smooth oak finish of the table below her, tied to the corners by her wrists and ankles, she was nothing more than a piece of meat to be feasted on, a meal to be devoured. And Curtis hadn't had a proper meal in years. The rest of the table's surface was covered in all the sweets and confectionaries his subordinates could find. Ripe fruits, delicate cakes and pastries, bowls of thick chocolates and creams- and to top it all off, his main course had been decorated lavishly to the likings of the delicacies surrounding her. Her most sensitive places had been drizzled and dipped, sprinkled and powdered, making her the most divine-looking creature the man had ever seen.
He took another step forward, surveying her as a vulture would its prey. Her dewy eyes peered up fearfully at him as he slowly approached the side of the table. Voice slightly hoarse from all her crying and struggling, she whined weakly through the thick cloth gag secured snugly between her chocolate-smeared lips.
"Shhhh," Curtis breathed out, the steadiness of his voice and posture such a stark contrast to the girl who lay weeping and bound before him. As he turned to make his way to the end of the table, her bare feet thrashed and kicked uselessly in protest. He simply shook his head at her pitiful displays of defiance. "No use fighting it, sweetheart," he hummed, his voice almost consoling in tone. "You're not going anywhere. Not until I get a good taste of what's mine."
With heedless, eager motions, the man cleared the portion of the table that sat between the girl's trembling legs. As mouth-watering as everything he was pushing aside appeared, his only focus was closing the space between him and the one thing he was truly starving for. Lowering his front down onto the now empty surface, Curtis' greedy eyes trailed up his victim's messy legs, finding the sacred point at which they joined. He drooled at the sight of her perfect cunt as it sat before him on display, dribbles of cream and what appeared to be nervous arousal collecting beneath her rounded ass.
"Mine," he repeated, this time nearing a growl. His rugged hands came up to squeeze at her soft, heavenly thighs, earning tiny squeaks of fear from the poor girl as she shook her head pleadingly- but it was no use. He had her before him now; nothing would come between him and his feast. "This body belongs to me now, angel. Do you understand?" He brought a hand up to push back her mound, exposing her swollen clit and leaky hole to his prying eyes. The confidence he was speaking with was impressive, given the fact that he'd never spoken to a woman like this in his life. But after all he'd lived through, he felt entitled to that sense of authority. He held her life in his hands, quite literally. And he sure as hell was ready to make the most of it.
"This pretty cunt-" he dared to take his words further, his other hand dragging a finger up through the streams of sugary icing coating her thighs to begin prodding at her tiny hole. "-is mine. All mine," he hummed, perfectly happy to be stating these truths to only himself, if his new possession was so insistent on denying them with her angry sobs and harsh glares. She would come around in time; he knew she would. She wouldn't have any choice in the matter.
His finger nudged and teased at the opening a bit more before gently dipping inside, the man's patience wearing thin. At the feeling of her tight, slippery walls doing everything in their power to fight off his intrusion, Curtis wasn't ashamed of the way his cock only grew harder from her unwillingness. He savored the distressed grunts and groans she let out as he forced his digit in up to a first knuckle, then a second. Turning his hand in a fluid motion, he began fucking his finger up into her, groaning lowly at the sight of her quickly growing increasingly responsive to his efforts.
Free-hand momentarily moving back to grab harshly at her hipbone, Curtis licked his lips as his gaze settled in on the tiny nub sitting at the top of the girl's messy slit. Bringing his thumb and pointer finger back down, he forcefully spread her upper lips apart, exposing her poor little button to the cool air of the room. Her legs kicked and struggled as he drew his face in closer, letting out a low groan as the bundle of nerves was finally taken between his parched lips.
The girl let out a howl through her gag, choking on her cries and spit as Curtis worked her aching clit. Closing his eyes, the man savored the feeling of the tiny bump twitching and trembling against his steady suckling. Letting go of any last hesitations, he submitted to eating her fresh cunt like a beast that'd been starved. He paid no mind to being gentle or polite as he latched onto her helpless core, delivering punishing waves of pain and pleasure well outside the realms of her wildest nightmares.
When his lips grew sore from sucking, he switched to dragging his tongue over the pulsating nub, starting with slow, teasing licks before switching to fast, merciless swipes in the blink of an eye. The alternating paces reduced his victim to softer sobs and hiccups, her hips bucking up wildly as her body struggled to tolerate the intense stimulation. And as soon as he'd had enough of the tongue work, he was back to nursing at the poor button, now so puffy and swollen from receiving his undivided attention.
As the girl's thighs shook, Curtis could see something shifting within her. The noises she let out were becoming more desperate, more panicked, with an expression of impending doom appearing on her tear-stained face. At the realization that she was being brought to orgasm against her will, the unrelenting hunger in Curtis' gut only rose. "That's it," he grumbled lowly, her sweet, sticky juices coating his reddened lips. "You're gonna come for me now, babydoll. Come on, give it to me," his face was hardening with determination, his finger thrusting more forcefully up into her fluttering walls as she hurled towards her climax at full speed.
The cry she let out as she finally came was the closest thing Curtis had ever heard to an angel on earth. As the incredible pressure in her tummy finally shattered, her poor clit spasmed helplessly in the man's awaiting mouth. A flood of sweetness sprayed against his scruffy facial hair as she squirted, the sight of her body coming helplessly against his efforts nearly too much for Curtis to bear. Groaning loudly, he coaxed her through the spectacular high. Only when her sobbing turned to weak sniffles did he finally pull away, his darkened eyes trailing up to find her tender face.
As he went to remove his digit from her soaking heat, he could've sworn she almost seemed to cling to him, in a way. He brought the creamy finger up to slip into his eager mouth, the sugary taste of her climax making his head pound with want.
His next words sent her into a fresh fit of tears. "One more," he decided, lowering his head back down to her sticky cunt. One more, he told himself, before he'd finally seek some relief of his own.
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lilacevans · 3 months
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𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚
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✧.* : ̗̀➛ curtis everett x female!reader (non-descriptive) ✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 177 ✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: choking, spit, curtis being curtis ✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: @dreadfulxives18 ✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: enjoy my filthy babiessssss. 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑠' 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ༊*·˚
*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here. *this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.
Curtis’ fingers flexed around your throat, each digit pushing into the column of your neck. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist as your lungs constricted and begged for air, but the ache between your legs cried for him to squeeze harder.
Your lips parted, letting a needy whimper escape. Curtis chuckled darkly as he bent to press a wet kiss to your open mouth before he pulled back slightly and you watched with wide eyes as his jaw slightly moved, hearing the saliva gather against his tongue as you were forced down onto your knees.
You knew better than to close your mouth, so with the aid of the hand still tight around your throat you tipped your head back. His spit landed with a sick muted slap against your tongue as you were about to swallow, two thick fingers toyed with your parted lips before sliding to the back of your throat.
You squeezed your eyes shut which earned you a harsher tension around your neck, making you gag around the digits as Curtis eye’s darkened.
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boxofbonesfic · 9 months
Note
Drabble idea: your next door neighbour is reclusive and you rarely see him but you do notice the strange noises you hear during the full moon and the women who enter his apartment and don't come out.
(Werewolf! Curtis Everett)
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Title: Moonsign
Pairing: Werewolf!Curtis Everett x Reader
Summary: You pick the wrong night to return your neighbor’s mis-delivered mail.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Violence, Monsterfucking-adjacent, Violence, Werewolf AU
A/N: so i fell in love with this prompt—
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You pause, your fist half a centimeter from the door as a sharp howl splits the air. Maybe he has a dog. You’ve never actually seen your reclusive neighbor out with one around the block, but working nights has left you decidedly out of the loop on neighborhood events. The block’s been a ghost town lately anyway, what with over half the buildings covered in red and yellow tape signaling that they would soon be torn down or repurposed into housing neither you nor your roommates would be able to afford.
The pile in your hands consists of fifteen letters plus a small package you’d opened by mistake—a dried bundle of beautiful purple flowers you’d had to look at the card inside to identify as decorative monkshood. Behind the house, the sun is setting bright orange and red, casting the dreary porch in shadow. I’m overthinking this.
You knock.
The door creaks open, and you stand, stunned in the doorway with your arm still raised as you stare into the dim hallway beyond.
“H-hello?” You croak, your throat suddenly tight. You drop your arm. “Mr. Everett?” There’s no response, at least not one you can hear from the porch. The sound of cicadas grows in your ears as you shift nervously from foot to foot. I’ll just.. leave it inside. On a table or something.
“I’m, um, I’m coming in,” you follow the statement with a timid step across the threshold. “I’ve just um, I’ve got some mail of yours, I think it was delivered by mistake.” The rug muffles the sound of your footsteps as you shuffle toward the warm yellow light at the end of the hall. It’s a kitchen—and it’s empty.
You set the mail down on the small table. “Sorry I opened one by mistake,” you call, before shaking your head. “What am I doing,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “There’s nobody even home.” That’s fine, all the better. You don’t want to have to face your neighbor after opening his mail. As you turn to head back outside, your foot catches against the leg of a chair pulled back from the table. You stumble, letting out a loud curse.
“Goddammit—” It’s only just out of your lips before you freeze, your stomach tightening. Your cry of pain seems mirrored somehow, like an echo—
Like you’re not alone in this house.
You go to speak, but find your mouth dry, and throat tight as you cup your hands around your mouth.
“Hello?” It comes out as a croak. “I’m sorry for intruding, the door was open and—” You tremble as the answering animal bellow cuts your nervous excuse in half, the unsaid words hanging unspoken in the air in front of your trembling mouth.
Is he hurt or something?
“Mr. Everett?”
For a moment, the house is so silent you can hear the traffic outside, and then the same agonized wail reverberates up through the floorboards, setting your heart racing. You clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the terrified whimper that threatens to escape. It sounds again and again until you realize it isn’t just an anguished, pained yell— someone is speaking to you.
“—lp me,” the words are barely discernible, like the one speaking them can barely manage. “Help me…”
There is another door in the kitchen, one that doesn’t lead back out into the rest of the small house. It, like the front door, opens easily with little effort. The heavy door swings open on silent hinges, exposing a set of dimly lit cement stairs winding down into the dark basement.
“Mr. Everett are you—are you down here?” Your reluctant voice takes a long time to bounce back to your ears. “Do-do you need me to call someone? Did you fall?”
“It… hurts…”
You aren’t sure why the thought of going down those stairs fills you with a primordial sense of dread, like your body is painfully aware of something your waking mind isn’t. You hesitate, but then another anguished wail accompanied by a sick sounding crack spurs you into action. He was hurt down there, and your waffling wasn’t helping.
You shine your phone light on the stairs as you descend, each step dragging icy fingers slowly down your spine. You swallow thickly as you reach the bottom, cool sweat prickling at your temples. The bare bulb hanging by the landing gives off comically little light, forcing you to squint, your brows furrowed as you stare into the gloom. The house upstairs, like most of the buildings on the block, was an old construction, built some time in the sixties or seventies—but this concrete was new.
And the basement… it’s bigger than you’d thought possible, the walls invisible to you either by darkness or design. The air down here is still and heavy, and you cannot will yourself to break the pregnant silence. Goosebumps rise on your skin.
A sickening crack shatters the quiet, and the pained noise that follows is louder and closer than ever before. You squeak with fear, before covering your mouth with your hands. It stinks down here, you realize, a tart, copper scent that you finally recognize as a mix of sweat and blood.
“You…came.” The words sound pleased, despite the speaker’s obvious pain. And that voice… You squeeze your arms around yourself, taking a step back towards the landing. It was like an animal growling words. It doesn’t even sound human.
Your heel bumps the concrete as you begin to back away.
“M-Mr. Everett, I’m going to g-g-go call someone f-for you—”
“I wai-ted for yo-ou,” the voice rasps, continuing on as if you haven’t spoken at all. “Call-ed fo-r yo-ou.” Something shifts in the dark—something big. There is a heavy grunt, and then the sound of metal dragging against the concrete. A whimper worms its way past your lips as slowly, the weak glow of the swaying bulb above your head reflects off of two pale blue eyes, glinting in the dark. The thing stops moving, the dragging sound suddenly ceasing.
“He thi-nks this will sto-op me,” the sound of the chain striking concrete is like the thunder outside, the spark briefly illuminating—something. You can’t comprehend it—huge and hulking, dark fur—“There is no ca-ge for me that he can bui-ld that I cannot destro-oy.”
There is a sound like metal crunching and then your legs are moving before you tell them to, scrambling up the stairs on your hands and feet like an animal as a rasping sound like laughter follows at your heels.
You’re barely through the door when you hear it on the stairs, something big coming up behind you—you bolt towards the front door, a scream erupting from your throat. You grab the door handle—
As claws tear through your overalls, splitting the skin underneath like hot knives. You fall forward with a cry against the door. It knocks the wind out of you, and you fall to your knees, your eyes blurry with tears. It’s like a wolf, you realize as it looms over you—but like a man, too, standing on thickly furred legs with an unnatural, canine bend.
Pale blue eyes sit above its dark muzzle, and they sparkle with dark amusement. You open your mouth to scream again and it lunges, burying sharp white teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You can taste your own blood, smell it in the air around you as you gurgle. Your blood gleams on its muzzle when it pulls away, dripping down onto your face as it hums.
“He will have to keep you now.” Terrified tears track down your cheeks as the bite mark on your shoulder begins to burn. “Like he wants to.”
End
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onsunnyside · 2 years
Text
²⁴.⍭ 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝?
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Stepbrother!Curtis Everett x innocent!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | STEPCEST, college au, virgin!reader, size difference, SMUT - minors DNI, daddy kink, somnophilia, oral (f), p*ssy spanking, dirty talk, elements of p*ssy worship, innocence/corruption kink, beard burn, overstimulation, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, squirting, the puffier the better.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Curtis has always protected you, and after a horror movie marathon, it’s no surprise you seek comfort in his bed.
𝗪/𝗖 | 6.14K
𝗔/𝗡 |  as we reach the end of our smutty october, here is dirty train daddy Curtis. No gifs/photos belong to me, check the Pinterest board on my kinktober masterlist, all credits go to the original creators. All mistakes are my own. [concept asks | fic asks]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Curtis hears you before he sees you. The hallway light switches on before your shadow appears at the bottom of his door. It opens silently, revealing you bundled in a sweater and a pair of fuzzy socks, dragging a blanket and your favourite stuffed animal. 
“C-Curtis?”
“What’s wrong?” 
“Can I stay with you?” 
Curtis glances at the clock on his nightstand, it’s almost midnight, and those red glowing numbers tell him just how long he’s been glued to his computer and how long your parents have been at that Halloween party. “It’s too late, you should go to bed.” 
“I can’t!” You squeaked, “You can keep playing your game and I’ll be super quiet, it’ll be like I’m not even there.” You beg, shivering as the downstairs darkness stares back at you. 
Your mind goes wild, forming shapes in the black abyss. Monsters with sharp claws and red eyes, or abnormally long limbs and jagged teeth, or a murderer who broke into the house hours ago and has been watching you all night, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. You don’t know if there’s something there—or if you watched too many scary movies tonight. 
Knowing your cowardly nature, it was probably the latter, but you couldn’t shake off that what if… what if there was something down there? 
“Please, please, please!” A shiver crawls up your spine and the darkness wraps around you, almost bringing tears to your eyes, “Curtis, please!” 
“Dude—what’s the wait up?” 
Curtis fixes his headset, his wrist cramping from being in this position for so long. “My sister wants to stay in my room.”
A series of sounds echo through his headphones, varying from disappointment, interest, and sympathy. He could name what noise came from which friend, simply because he knows how each of them feels about you. 
You weren’t a spoiled brat or a bitchy devil who turned his life upside down, you were far from that. You were sweet, too gentle and kind to survive by yourself. Clinging to his hands and clothes with your gentle touch and irresistible warmth, like sticky honey. Honey that rotted his teeth and only made him hungrier. 
Your naivety has led you to his bedroom many times, from asking him about things you’ve heard on campus—“what is teabagging?” When those words left your innocent mouth, Curtis choked on his saliva. Thankfully he didn’t have to answer you because it was dinner time. Don’t ask, don’t ask, Curtis repeated in his head while everyone was sitting at the dining table, he just knows your parents would find some way to blame him for corrupting you. 
If they only knew how much he was holding back from doing that. 
You were easily scared, so he expected you to be frightened this dark and dreary, rainy Halloween night. It wasn’t the family’s typical celebration, you were grounded after failing a test and Curtis was stuck babysitting you as punishment for a mishap involving a hockey puck and a broken window. 
At least his friends were in the same shit—he wasn’t playing hockey alone—that’s why they’re spending Halloween night playing videos and eating their weight in candy. 
Before your parents left for a party, the decorations were taken down because of the upcoming storm, and your jack lanterns were brought inside. Only a handful of trick-or-treaters came by, so the candy bowl by the front door was still full. Or it was until you started nervously snacking halfway through your scary movie marathon. Your tongue is sore from all of the sour treats. 
Curtis would be surprised that you didn’t sneak out, but he knows you’re too obedient and fearful to be that bold. Him, on the other hand, you had to cover for him whenever he left in the middle of the night for a party. There was surely an advantage to having a sweet stepsister, he had someone to back him up, or save him from difficult situations. You even let him hide his weed in your bedroom since your parents routinely checked his room after a neighbour caught him smoking in the park and practically dragged him home by his ear. 
And the neighbourhood still doesn’t know who egged her house last week—Curtis had the greatest friends in the fucking world. 
“—she can’t be that bad.”
“Huh?”
“Your sister, you should let her join our game.”
Steve groans. “Ugh, Buck, you just have a crush on her.” 
“No, I don’t!” 
“Is that why you sent her those love letters a few weeks ago?” 
His gaze locks on Bucky’s character as if that was really him and he could feel Curtis’ glare through the screen. “That was you?” 
Bucky makes an offended noise. “Thanks a lot, Steve!” He hisses, “Okay, maybe I do like her, but I wouldn’t try anything, she’s your sister.”
“And he’d probably kick your ass.” 
“That too.” 
“Nah, but he’s right. She’s probably dying of boredom being trapped in that house.” 
Curtis gnaws on his lip, staring at the glowing monitor displaying their stats from the last game. It’s steadily gotten better and he isn’t sure if he wants you to ruin that streak. Plus, you didn’t even like his games, you much preferred using his PC (that he built himself) for the Sims. He thought it was cute that you made a virtual version of him and put the two of you in a big purple and blue house with a dog and a cat.
“We could pick an easier map so she isn’t completely lost.”
Curtis exhales, “Let me think about it.”
“Uhm… okay.” You lean on his doorway, blinking down at the hardwood floor. “Can I still come in though?” 
“What?” He turns to you, suddenly remembering you standing there. “Oh, not you, honey. You can stay in here—for a bit.” He tags on, he didn’t want you to linger too much. Especially since he was still playing with his friends, at least you wouldn’t hear their endless profanities and arguing. 
You beam and scurry towards the bed, almost tripping over yourself before plopping on the unmade sheets. The mattress jostles and an empty pop can tips over and falls to the ground, joining the mess of the day, from candy wrappers and dirty dishes from when he ordered pizza for dinner. 
You giddily settle into his wrinkled sheets, snuggling under the duvet with your blanket and stuffed Care Bear, Grumpy bear. From here, you see his computer monitors and that war game glowing bright, you’ve watched him play a few times, and were always amazed by his quick reflexes and tactics.
“Tell your friends I say hi!” You wiggle your toes, Curtis’ bed was so comfy and warm. “But that’s it because I’ll be quiet now.” 
“Honey—now don’t get jealous, Bucky, green isn’t your colour.” 
“Shut up!” 
“She says hi.” Curtis runs a hand over his buzzed head, tuning out his idiotic friends. 
Steve whoops, “Tell her Bucky says he loves her.” 
“I live across the street, don’t make me come over and punch your teeth in.”
“Now, now, we all know honey doesn’t like violence. You’ll never marry her with that attitude.” 
“Alright, calm down, fellas.” Andy laughs, “Curtis, are we still playing?” 
He hums, “let’s fuckin’ go.” 
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Curtis doesn’t know how long he’s been standing here, but he knows he’s a damn pervert. It’s been an hour since you came in, and Curtis had bid goodbye to his friends before he turned around and saw you sprawled across his bed, your sweater rolled up and exposing your cotton panties and an undeniable wet spot. Spot was an understatement. You were moaning softly and rubbing your thighs together, making the small spot into a full patch that clung to your folds. 
He gulps, clenching and releasing his fists until the heat in his belly dissipates. He busies himself with gathering the dishes, food wrappers and empty cans that litter his bedroom, avoiding your wet, clothed cunt at all costs because if he gets another glance, he’ll fall victim to his desires. 
After doing the dishes, he cleans up after you in the living room, picking up small candy wrappers and fixing the throw pillows and blankets to his mother’s liking. He checks all the doors and windows, peeking out the window at the pouring rain and strong winds. Thunder rumbles loudly as he creeps up the stairs slowly, preparing himself for spending the night next to you—and restraining himself from touching you. 
He places a glass of water on the nightstand closest to you and picks up your stuffed Grumpy Bear. A yelp erupts from his chest when you grab his arm, latching on with a death grip. 
His wide eyes land on you, shockingly awake and breathing heavily, “Honey, what—”
“T-The thunder. I—” You jump as another boom echoes through the sky, you try to tug him into bed, “Curtis! C’mon!” 
He slides under the sheets and immediately, you curl up against him, clutching Grumpy to your chest. Your eyes are squeezed shut as he rubs up and down your back, soothing each tremor rocking through your body. 
This isn’t the first time this happened, you hated storms with passion. From the dark looming clouds, harsh winds and gallons of rain, the cherry on top was the loud thunder and flickering lightning. Back in your hometown, there were terrifying storms that would tear roofs off houses, sweep away anything outside and knock down trees. 
Curtis knew how to deal with you when you got like this, so he distracted you. 
You’re okay, honey. Everything is fine. He repeats over and over again until you stop shaking, he plants a chaste kiss on the top of your head, “Why did you want to come in here?”
It’s quiet for a few moments before you speak, timidly meeting his eyes. “I had a horror movie marathon.” You shyly admit, “and just couldn’t be alone. I was too scared!” 
He didn't have to ask since he heard your screams and squeals from here, even with his headphones on, but hearing it from your lips boosts his ego. You have always run to him when you were scared, confused or both. He was your saviour in more ways than one, and he’s your first choice for comfort and safety. 
“What were you going to wear to the party tonight?”
You slump, remembering your plans with your new friends from college. “We were all gonna be the plastics from Mean Girls! But their Halloween costumes. I was gonna be a mouse.” You pout, “Don’t tell my dad, but I got a little nightie like what she wears in the movie. It’s really short and sheer… you could see almost everything underneath.” 
His eyes fall to your puckered lips, “Oh.” 
“Yeah, I know. I thought those dresses were only for home, not public, but Nat said all the girls dress that way for Halloween.” 
He sometimes forgets you weren’t from the city. Sweet, naive you grew up in a small town before your father married his mother a year ago. He recalls teaching you how to transit everywhere, telling you which trains and buses went where. You were so confused with all the names and routes, you called him every day to ask for directions. 
“Sounds like you’d get cold.” 
“I could show you!” You go to stand but another rumble of thunder has you clambering back into bed, to your safe soft bundle with your stepbrother. “Maybe later actually.”
Curtis laughs, “You a w’ittle sca’wed?” 
You shove him and he’s quick to return it, this time almost knocking you off of the bed. It isn’t long until it turns into a tickle fight, he pins you down and digs his fingers into your sides, straddling your kicking legs as you loudly cackle. You’re no match for his strength and are forced to lie there, laughing till tears are streaming down your face and your throat goes sore. One cough is all it takes for Curtis to release you and hand over the water. 
You gulp heartedly, droplets escape the corners of your lips and trail down your chin to your neck. 
He still feels the warmth of your body against his, so much smaller than him, and crying the prettiest tears and thrashing between helpless pleas for mercy—if he had it his way, you’d be acting the same way with far fewer clothes on. 
Thunder booms and you jump, the water spilling down your chest and legs, soaking straight through your sweater and the sheets below. 
“Ugh! Sorry, Curtis, your bed is a little wet now.” 
He watches the realization hit your face. 
You quickly close your legs, “I didn’t—oh god, I didn’t—I’d never pee in your bed.” Your hand falls between your thighs and your eyes widen, you don’t remember your dream but it must’ve been a dirty one, the kind you’ve only had a handful of times. “I-I have to go change!” You surge up, squeezing your legs together while pulling down the hem of your sweater. 
Embarrassment floods you until it pours out your mouth in stuttering excuses, dutifully ignoring Curtis’ offer to walk you to your bedroom if you’re scared. 
You don’t even grab your stuffie before shuffling out of his room, yanking the sweater over your ass to savour any bit of pride you have left. 
Curtis was seconds away from grabbing you and taking care of your little wet problem. He’d dive headfirst into those sinful delusions and indulge in the pleasure you’re so cluelessly withholding. He rubs over his pants and the wet spot that was more than just water, imagining just how slick you were. He’d bet your arousal was sticking to your panties. 
And now it’s all going to fucking waste. 
When you come back, he’s comfortable under the sheets with a pillow strategically placed over his crotch, but of course, you don’t notice a thing. 
You take shy little steps, your legs never spreading too far until you’re standing at the foot of his bed in a fresh new sweater. 
“This is it.” 
It is a sheer babydoll dress, thin and delicate with a bow at the collar and a frilly hemline. You hold it against your body, swaying cheekily. “Isn’t it cute? Now imagine me with mouse ears, nose and whiskers.”
Curtis gulps, daydreaming about your glowy skin draped in that airy fabric. “Very cute, honey. But I don’t think that’s appropriate at home either.” 
You deflate, “No?”
“Not when our parents are home anyway…” he trails off, “but you can wear it when it’s just us. It’ll be our little secret.” 
You nod eagerly, “I’m good at keeping secrets. I haven’t said a word about you sneaking out—or the weed, and I never will!” 
That’s why he loved you. So positive and enthusiastic, a breath of fresh air in his normal, boring life. He’s so glad he convinced his mother to go on a second date with your father. And to think he just wanted her out of the house so he could throw a party, and now he has unlimited access to the sweetest, prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 
Your gullibility was just a plus, and it’s thanks to that innocence that he’s able to convince you to wear your new nightie to bed. 
“It’s Halloween, you should still wear it even if you aren’t going to a party. That way when you do wear it out, you’ll already have broken it in.” 
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Curtis finds out why you were walking so strangely after you fall asleep again. That demonic little voice wins and convinces him to dip in his twisted curiosity.  
The lamp is on the dimmest setting, barely illuminating, but it’s sufficient in this pitch-black darkness. It’s enough, he repeats in his head, he doesn’t need brighter light or a fucking camera, although he wants to immortalize you from this angle. 
Curtis is lying on his stomach between your legs. The blanket is slightly pushed to the side and your sweater is rolled up. His hands stroke up and down your inner thighs and his eyes are locked on your too-small panties. The cotton cups your core firmly, outlining your slit and deliciously falling victim to your slick just like the last pair. 
You beguiled him, pushing him over the edge and into the dark forbidden depths—from the sheer lingerie to the tiny panties, to fucking grinding against his thigh when he was dead set on not corrupting you tonight. 
Now, look what you did.
You were so needy and wet, he’d be a monster to abandon you in agony. Curtis refused to let this gleaming opportunity fade away, he’s saved you countless times, and another wouldn’t be so bad. He’ll put you out of your misery just like any big stepbrother should. 
He carefully removes the rest of the sheets from your body. From the drift of cool air, you squirm then settle on your back again, legs splayed wide open. The moonlight fuses with the yellow lamplight, bathing you in an exquisite, irresistible flare. It calls to him like a beacon, pulling him by the throat to your most precious spot. 
He mouths against the cotton, soddening the fabric with his saliva. At first, he’s discreet, cautiously licking, as if he isn’t starving for you. Once he’s certain you weren’t waking up, he seeks your clit, the delectable button that has been on his mind all night, and licks it through your panties. 
The minimal light might be enough, but this wasn’t. He tugs the gusset to the side, nosing along your inner thigh as your smell drills into his head. 
“So fuckin’ pretty.” The words are spoken in a whisper, his dark gaze glued on your folds that glimmer with your arousal. You’re so fucking sticky. He can’t resist breaking the string of your slick between your panties and your slit with his tongue, the minuscule taste instantly makes him addicted. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” 
He rubs your clit slowly, just enough to make your breath deepen as you sleep soundly, beautifully unaware. Your nub swells under his touch and your arousal leaks down your cunt to your rosebud. Curtis refuses to let a drop go to waste. 
He groans as your taste floods his mouth, your warmth satisfying every craving he’s ever had, fulfilling every ache while leaving more in its place. The demand for more and more fuels him on, just like your soft snores as wet sucking noises float into the air. With his eyes shut in bliss and he grabs your hips, tugging you closer. 
He’s only fantasized about this. Never daring to commit to corruption. The guilt should be eating him alive right now, remorse should be wrapping around his neck and yanking him away from you—his sweet, innocent, sleeping stepsister. But it doesn’t, if anything, it excites him. The illicit nature and stark boundaries he’s leaping over. 
Your soft whines edge him further, kissing your clit on his way down to your weepy hole. His tongue swirls around before breaching, piercing deep until his nose rubs against your button. He licks into your virgin hole, nuzzling your folds with his prickly beard. 
This is far better than shamefully jerking his throbbing cock with your panties to his nose. 
Your high hits suddenly, catching him off guard when your hips rise and your panties snap back into place, ridding him of the opportunity of watching you come. He can’t say he hates what he’s gifted anyway, your cream gushes out and soaks the cotton. He rushes forward, enveloping your clothed pussy in his mouth and sucking your orgasm through your panties, hearty groans rumbling in his chest. 
He’s so rough and loud that you stir, but that only plunges him into a fervid hunger. Your cunt pulses under his mouth as he cleans you up, greedily taking any drop of your essence like he’ll never have you again. But he will, he knows he will. 
Lewd noises draw you from dreamland into a confusing reality, following the trail of the strange fluttering heat between your thighs. “C-Curtis?” 
He should pull away, he should apologize and beg for forgiveness but Curtis has played nice long enough. 
“These are so thin, I could just—” he rubs his nose along your clothed folds, nudging your swollen clit. “So fuckin’ tight too.” 
You squeak, attempting to shut your legs but he forces them open, mouthing against your core like he’s been wandering the desert for days and you’re a stream of water. 
Shaky breaths tremble your frame, the sheets wrinkled in your fists as his tongue glides down your slit to your untouched hole, “What—what are you doing!” 
“You were rubbing against me, honey.” He’s intoxicated on you yet hyperaware of every tiny movement of your face, reading your reactions effortlessly. “I’m just helping you out, that’s what big brothers do.” 
“Is this okay?” You ask, “A-Are we, can we do this?”
“Yeah, baby. You think I’d lie to you?” He licks his hand and reaches under your sweater, tracing up your warm skin. He pinches your nipple, his saliva making you squirm from the sudden cold. He fondles your tit, switching between both until your rigidness fades away and you quietly moan. 
His attention falls back on your pussy, inches from his face and begging for him. He’s quick to yank off your panties and fully expose your centre to him once more. 
“Are you sure, Curtis?” 
He huffs, “I’m sure. It wouldn’t be very kind of me to leave you here to suffer, now will it?” He traces down your folds, taking pride in the hitch in your breath, “And this feels good, right? So it can’t be bad.” 
You sleepily process his words, “that feels—oh!” You watch as he lightly licks your clit, his tongue is hot and soft, just grazing over your bundle like it was a saccharine treat. 
He hums, closing his lips around it just to make you feel his heat and wanting you to know how good he can make you feel. He pops off tenderly, “It’s sensitive, huh?” He circles the erect nub with his thumb, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be gentle. You trust me, right?”
You shakily exhale, struggling to hold his dark gaze with the unfamiliar tingles darting through your body. “S-So much, Curtis.”
“Don’t call me that.” He kisses your mound, his breath puffing against your warm skin as his eyes lock on your face. The moonlight shines over your features, bathing you in the glow. You look pure, untouched and vulnerable, and Curtis wouldn’t have it any other way. “Say daddy.” 
You stiffen, fisting the sheets with wide eyes. You shake your head but your body has a mind of its own and jerks up, desperate for his touch. 
“Say it, baby.” 
“I can’t—”
He pulls back and swats your cunt, making you gasp sharply. He repeats it again and again, aiming for your most sensitive spot and getting rougher each time. Curtis leans up, spitting on your puffy clit, he should feel bad for torturing your button, but you weren’t obeying him. “Say it, or I’ll get a lot meaner.” 
His saliva smears down your wetness and you squirm, before his hand lands on your belly, pressing you down to the mattress. Uneven breaths shake your frame, and the ceiling fan spins slowly, almost putting you in a trance. “Dad—daddy.” 
“That wasn’t so hard.” He murmurs, peppering kisses along your trembling thighs. His lips ghost your folds before his tongue flattens and licks a firm strip up your slit. “That’s my girl.” 
Now that you’re awake, he could have some real fun. 
He makes out with your pussy, rubbing your petals raw with his facial hair and sending vibrations up your spine with his deep groans. “So wet for me. Grinding on my leg, moaning in my damn ear.” Curtis exhales, “You didn’t even let me sleep, you know that?” 
“I’m sorry!”
“Pardon?”
You mewl as his flat tongue licks up your slit, fucking into your hole. “Da-Daddy! I’m sorry, daddy!” 
You were learning so well. “And calling me daddy, I wonder what your real daddy would think of that.” He lets a heavy dollop of saliva drip from his bottom lip to your swollen clit, “He wouldn’t like that I’m eating his daughter’s virgin cunt, huh?”
You feebly attempt to pull him closer, but with his buzzed hair, the best you can do is push him down. Pitifully whimpering as he teases you, licking everywhere but that one spot. As a last resort, you just force him down and squeeze your thighs around his head. 
Sparks dance on the inside of your eyelids when he takes that spot—that bundle between his lips with open-mouthed kisses, fueling the shocks coursing through your body. You liked this better than when he slapped it. He alternates between locking the throbbing nub in a suffocating kiss—suckle? And dipping down to noisily slurp at your juices. 
This tsunami of impressions and senses brings you to a state of unfamiliar euphoria, a wave crashing within you and releasing an array of passions you’ve never felt before. You mutter nonsense, confused about your body’s response as Curtis works you through it, soothing your pulsating bundle with his skilled tongue and warm mouth. 
Curtis is more robust than you and easily escapes your hold, hooking one arm around your thigh. “You liked that, honey?” A smirk plays on his slick lips, “This is your clit, it’s your special sensitive button,” he blows over it and chuckles mockingly when you whimper, “And I fuckin’ love it.” 
His thumb pulls back the hood, exposing the delicate bud, erect and swollen, begging for his touch. He can’t resist swirling his tongue over it, your moans music to his ears. 
He leans back with the bundle between his lips, pulling lightly before releasing it. A string of spit connects his lips to your core, his saliva coats you and combined with the cream leaking out of your fuckhole, you look like a feast. “So pretty and tasty. So fuckin’ messy.” He groans, “You’ve been keeping this from me, baby?”
You can only blink at him and squeak when he tongues over the exposed nerves. You feel every bump of his wet muscle and his hot breath on your skin, the sensations have your back arching high with unsteady moans. 
“What a bad girl, you know how unfair that is? I give you so much, I keep you safe, I’m so nice to you, and you keep this pretty pussy from me.” He presses on your stomach, pinning you down. 
“I’m sorry, daddy…” You barely manage and entwine your fingers with his, “didn’t mean t-to!” 
“You didn’t?” He repeats, lazily mouthing at the crease between your thigh and warm cunt, his blue eyes locked on your face covered in a sheen of sweat, “but you still hurt me, baby, you made me so upset.” 
“I’m sorry!” You yelp when his palm collides with your inner thigh in quick succession, getting awfully close to your centre. “I’m sorry, Curtis!” You apologize again, “Please don’t hit m-my button—” 
“—You know what would make me feel better?” 
You shake your head, dread sinking deep as he traces down your core, from your puffy clit to your rosebud. He circles the rim, smearing your leaky excitement. 
“If you let me play with you.” He lightly spanks your cunt, wet noises flooding the room alongside your choked squeals, “are you gonna let your big brother play with your pussy to feel better?” He doesn’t relent, nor give you the chance to respond, he only slips his fingers down your slit to collect your stickiness and smear it back over your stimulated cunt, paying extra attention to his favourite part. “And you’re making a mess on my bed, dummy. You have a lot to make up for.” 
Shuddering from wild nerves and unfamiliar sensations, you give in. He was right, he does so much for you without being asked, he’s your hero in every sense. “You can, uhm… play with me, daddy.”
A bright smile appears on his wet lips, and you’re too blinded by his radiance to notice the rotten roots of his happiness, the utter wrongness of it all. You’d follow recklessly on whatever path he makes, trailing after him like a lost puppy without any thought. 
“That’s my good girl—my best girl, actually.” He rewards you with several sweet kisses, pushing up your sweater to give your tummy some love, he trails up higher until your sweater is above your breasts. 
You rise towards his comforting touch, biting your bottom lip as he lightly tugs and twists your nipple. He massages your tit, squeezing it gently in his fist while swirling his tongue over your hard nipple. “Have you ever been kissed?”
Your heart thumps loudly, almost muting his low voice. “N-No.” 
Curtis cocks his head, blue eyes gleaming fondly, “I’ll make it special for you, honey, but no one can know. I’ll take you out, treat you real nice, and make it like one of those cheesy movies you love so much.”
“Will you?”
“I’ll do anything for you.” He speaks with so much conviction you don’t care about keeping it a secret, a part of you knew how wrong this was, but you’d give up everything before giving up Curtis. 
Your hands fall to the back of his neck as you go slack onto the pillows, his chain is cold against your palm, a stark contrast to his heated skin. 
“I love you so much, baby.” He kisses down your body until he’s snug between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit, “and Daddy loves you too, pretty button.”
Your face heats up hotter than the sun as burning desire prickles at your skin, he’s gazing lovingly at your most private spot, and talking to it. That only makes you want him more.  
“You like when I play with your button, baby?” Curtis asks, speeding up and adding pressure, “You’ve never felt this way before, huh?”
Your eyes water out of pure want and overwhelming pleasure. Your previous highs give you tunnel vision, putting your senses in overdrive. Everything feels unbearably stronger, even his breath on your throbbing centre. “N-No.” 
“Never even touched yourself?”
“I’ve had dreams—and woke up sticky, but no.” Even though you can’t remember any of those dreams, you know they’re nothing like this. The heat, desire and pure debauchery are new territories for you, those dirty dreams were just messy blurs but now Curtis is the one to make you feel all those things. 
He growls, growing harder at the fact of being the first to taste you and to touch you like this. “You want my mouth on your clit again?” He asks lowly. “You want daddy to suck and lick your pretty, puffy clit, honey?”
“Y-Yes, but please be gentle… it’s really tingly.” 
His tongue swipes over his lips, “But I think she wants me to be rough.” He pulls back the hood, spitting down, “she wants me to be mean. That’s why she’s all tingly.”
“Re—” You’re cut off by a whine when he licks the exposed nerves, “Really?”
“Really.” He echos, “your body wants to be ruined, used and stretched around me. This ass and soaked cunt want to be pumped full of my cum, and this fuckin’ clit—she wants me to make you cry ‘cause it feels too good.” His mouth waters as you swell up before his eyes, the smallest stimulation makes your sore button fill with blood, “But that’s a good kind of cryin’ for a good kind of hurt.”
He laps over your petals before latching onto your clit, suckling harshly while his thumb circles your virgin hole. He digs deeper until his facial hair rubs into you, coarse and prickly against your delicate folds. You whimper, caught between grinding against his face and crawling away, bouncing between pain and pleasure. 
He pulls back with a deep breath, he could suffocate himself with you and it’d be a joyous end. “Doesn’t it feel good when I’m mean? When I just bully your cunt like I hate it?” When you don’t respond, he glances up to see that lost glazed over your eyes and the stupidest look on your face. 
Peaceful is what he’d call it, peacefully divine—but he doesn’t want you peaceful, he wants you ruined and crying, weeping his name like a prayer, he wants you to plead for salvation, a fucking break, just so he can say no. 
“Don’t you like it when I do this?” A harsh slap lands on your clit, making your legs flail before he hooks them over his broad shoulders. Prying you open for his ruthless touch, he spits on his thumb then harshly rubs your bundle. “Or when I do this?” He pinches your button meanly and rolls it between his fingers. “Dumb little sister, you like when your big brother is a damn bully, huh?”
“Yes, I do!” You mewl, unable to lie still as the elastic in your belly tightens painfully, stretching you so thin you could shatter with a breeze. “I-I do, I love it so much, da–ddy!” 
You’re so pretty when you cry. 
“That’s right, you just gotta remember that daddy always knows best.” He dives forward and messily tongues at your creamy hole, eagerly swiping up any juices you have to offer. “Wanna know a secret?” He suckles, pressing deep between your folds and shaking his head, burning your sore skin with his beard. “The puffier it is, the better it tastes.” 
He thrusts his tongue in your hole while rubbing your clit, the bottom half of his face is a mess. Your previous orgasms and his spit coating his beard and down his chin, your cream collecting around his swollen lips. You aren’t any better, hot tears streaming down your face and drool seeping out of the corner of your lips dumbly. 
You can barely think—your mind is flooded with him, his smell, his soft bed under you, and his touch. 
“Have you ever squirted before?” He asks, but all you can utter are incoherent words, he takes the benefit of the doubt and settles on a squeaky pathetic no. “Fuck, are you gonna make a stupid mess on daddy’s bed, dumb baby? Gonna get me all dirty, fuckin’ soak me with juices from this virgin cunt?”
You make confused noises, stuttering out his name between heaving breaths as the wave builds and builds, threatening to crash over and flood you from the inside out. 
Curtis grins madly, eating up every one of your helpless mewls, bullying your sensitive nerves with his thumb as if you’re his damn controller. “It’s okay, honey, your body is gonna thank me for being so mean.” 
You squeal so loudly that your voice cracks, breaking off into mindless babbles as you squirt, your orgasm shooting out into Curtis’ awaiting mouth. His torturous touch on your swollen bundle never yields and only gets more intense. 
You’re caught between horrified and amazed as Curtis ferociously sucks your burning clit, prolonging your orgasm until you try to get away. He pulls you back and secures your quivering thighs around his head. He’s merciless and dives forward, roughly tonguing your pulsating bundle until much weaker, final spurts escape your body. 
He doesn’t stop until you’re a quivering mess, covered in your arousal, sweat and his saliva. Even then, he spits down on your thoroughly ruined pussy with your juices that still filled his mouth. He meets your watery gaze, flashing you a wide smile. “You okay, honey?”
“That—Is that it?”
“It doesn’t have to be.” He raises to his knees, your juices shining in his beard and around his lips. “But I don’t want you to get overwhelmed, I know that was a lot.” And he didn’t even kiss you yet. 
“But you… doesn’t that hurt?” You blink down at his hard bulge, your legs still spread wide with your wetness seeping into his bedsheets. “I don’t want you to hurt.”
“So fuckin’ sweet.” He exhales, cupping your cheek. “You can watch me, okay?” He tugs down his sweatpants and boxers with one swoop, and his cock smacks into his lower abs, flushed an angry red and leaking pre cum from the mushroom tip and down the prominent veins. “Just spread your legs and keep looking at me.” 
You subconsciously lick your lips, spreading your legs wide as he crawls forward on his knees, squeezing his thick base.
“Good girl, why don’t you spread your pretty pussy for me too?” His jaw tightens under his beard, eyes bouncing between your dazed face and your ruined clit, “show daddy your puffy button so I can come on it.” 
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ehem... a very special eun @comfortcap made me this way with button play. I'm also very tempted to make a part two. But i already have a full series with stepbro!ari coming [fraternal instincts] BUT CURTISSS😖🫶
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check my kinktober masterlist for the rest of my fics
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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navybrat817 · 23 days
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Navy I need your help. This man… tell me things about this man. Because… honestly I’m in love with him. I just want him to come home to me and make me his all night long. Break the bed 🤍
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Where to begin with this man?!
Hard worker? Yes. He works hard to provide for you. He may not be the richest man alive, but HE feels rich because he has you.
Protective? That's a given. You're his girl. If anyone fucks with you, it'll either be the last thing they do or they'll carry a permanent reminder of why they don't mess with what's his.
Possessive? In the best way. You're not his property, but you are his everything. Just like he's yours. It's that simple.
Passionate? Fuck YES. He'll take you to the floor the moment you greet him at the door and make you cry with how much you love him.
Tender? He is with you. After he ruins you and brings you to bed to ruin you again, he'll whisper praises and words of affection in your ear as you come back to yourself.
Handy? You know it. He'll gladly fix the bed if it breaks.
Loving? Abso-fucking-lutely. You're one of the lucky ones he let in. You'll have a place in his heart forever. And you'll always have him.
Love and thanks! ❤️
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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years
Text
𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆
week 3 - day 10 - kinktober - somnophilia - best friend's brother curtis everett x inexperienced reader.
warning - somnophilia
kinktober masterlist
18+ only please, the gifs and headers aren't mine
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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I huff as I walk through the front door, just wanting to strip down and shower. I let out a grunt of annoyance when I hear giggles and yelps from the kitchen, deciding to head there first to scream at whoever is making the noise to shut up. The moment I step into the room, my eyes grow wide, and my pants tighten.
“Curtis! You remember Y/n, right?” The sound of his sister's voice is zoned out as his eyes are glued onto the small figure, and his eyes drift down and take in the way her pink dress hugs her figure perfectly, and how there’s flour on her rosy red cheeks, he lets out a grunt before turning and quickly heading to his room.
Not seeing how disappointed you were, the way your eyes dropped, full of tears as your plump lip quivered. His sister shrugs, muttering how he must be in a bad mood before continuing with the baked goods sitting on the kitchen counter. You slowly start to help, your mood slightly drained, wishing the crush you had on your best friend's brother would go away by now.
The moment Curtis entered his room, his clothes came off, and his hand wrapped around his throbbing member. Furiously stroking it as his head tips back, eyes closed, and he pictures what you’d look like on your knees for him. He wasn’t expecting you to look so grown, how your breasts bounced as you giggled and how he wished he could take that plump bottom lip of yours and suck on it.
Pants and groans leave his mouth, his hand moving faster and harder against his cock, the tip angry and leaking. His other hand goes down to his balls and gives them a tug and a squeeze before his cock erupts, and his cum shoots out of him, covering his dirty clothes and some of his floor. Curtis pants, desperately trying to catch his breath before heading into his bathroom and washing the day away.
He spent most of his time in his room, feeling as though he’d pounce on you if he saw you again. When night came, and dinner was ready, he heard a soft knock on his wooden door. He grunts as he gets up, ready to bite the head off of whoever decides to disturb him. He swings his door open, prepared to yell, and stops short. His skin turns a pale white. He can feel himself start to sweat as he hardens in his boxers. The sight before him was both a blessing and a curse.
Standing there was you, wearing a cute short sheer light pink nightie that hugs your figure nicely, and what gets to him the most is the little rose bow between your breasts. Deciding he’s been standing there for too long in complete silence, he grunts again, not realising the effect on the woman standing before him when he does.
“What?” His piercing blue eyes stare her down, watching as she squirms. Her big doe-like eyes stare up at him, nervously chewing on her lip. Y/n gestures with her hands.
“Dinners ready, and S/n told me to come to get you.” Curtis’s eyes fall and focus on how her breasts bounce as her hands wave around. He blinks several times when he notices she’s waiting for him to answer. He nods, gestures for her to go ahead as he walks out of his room and follows behind her. His bottom lip is between his teeth as he watches her ass jiggle as she walks, trying to stop his cock from growing hard because he wouldn’t be able to hide it with what little clothes he’s wearing.
Curtis watches Y/n turn slightly to look at him, giving him a shy smile before quickly scurrying away to where dinner is being held. Curtis wasn’t happy. Throughout dinner, his sister wouldn’t shut up, mainly when she talked about finding someone for Y/n to hook up with and when Curtis found out that she’s never been with a man before. He wanted to throw her onto that table and have her for dinner. When dinner finally ended, Curtis abruptly got up and left, needing to get out of the room fast before he did something he wasn’t supposed to.
The rest of the night, while you and his sister went to her room to watch those stupid romcoms, Curtis stroked himself until his cock became sensitive. He sits up, groaning as his cock is still hard and his body is covered in sweat. No woman has ever made him feel like this, especially when they’re not in the same room.
He gets up and heads out of his room, heading towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. Curtis reaches up and grabs a mug before filling it with water and gulping the liquid down. Curtis stares at the cup for a few seconds, “fuck it,” he places the cup into the sink before stalking quietly to his sister’s room. Curtis stops at her door, noticing that it’s slightly open, and he peeks inside, seeing that the both of you are fast asleep.
Curtis smirks, knowing his sister is an extremely deep sleeper. I mean, she should be with the number of sleeping pills he put in both of your drinks. Enough to possibly knock out an elephant, his eyes focus on your small form. The nightie that has become his favourite has now lifted, showing off the cute pair of pink silk knickers. The outline of her pussy lips can be seen from where he is standing, causing a groan to leave him.
Stepping into the room, he moves closer to the bed, where you lie flat on your back. Legs spread as if you were expecting him, his hand strokes your thigh, watching your face to see if you’d wake. When you don’t make a sign that you’ll wake anytime soon, Curtis moves his hand up and to your clothed core, his fingers skimming over the smooth fabric before making a connection with your swollen button. 
He rubs small circles against your button, and your soft moans fill the air as you wiggle in your sleep. Curtis crawls onto the bed, his cock rock hard with the thought of his fantasy finally coming true. His hand continues to rub your little cunt, feeling your knickers begin to soak through before he slowly pulls them down and off your body.
His mouth drops open as he looks at your glistening cunt, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. Curtis slowly moves closer, just needing a small taste, only a tiny one. His chest connects with the bed, holding himself up by his elbows as his hands grab hold of your ass and pulls you closer to his mouth. A moan falls from his lips when his lips touch yours, the smell and taste of your soft cunt enter his mind, and he slowly becomes feral. His tongue sweeps inside your cunt, scooping up as much of you as he can before his mouth moves up to your little button. His tongue swirls around it before his lips wrap around it and suck, his tongue flicking it as your sleeping body thrashes, tiny hands trying to find something to grab onto.
As you cum, Curtis moves back down to your hole, licking and slurping up as much as he can before he stops and gets on his knees, pushing his boxers down and revealing his thick and bulging member. Underneath sit a heavy set of balls, ready to be emptied. Grabbing hold of the base, Curtis lines the tip with your sopping wet entrance before slowly pushing in, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as the feel of your tight cunt hugs him. Your walls pulsate around his heavy member. The resistance gets to him, making him feel feral as he pushes deeper inside. 
Once Curtis bottoms out, a moan slips from his lips, his head dropping as he takes a moment to appreciate the feel of you wrapped around him. His dark blue eyes stare down at your sleeping form, slowly pulling out before he thrusts back in, his hands resting on either side of your hips as he thrusts into your tight little cunt. His pace starts picking up as groans of pleasure slip from his lips, never wanting this to end. The tip of his cock hits your sweet spot causing sleepy whimpers to leave you.
Curtis wraps his arms around your thighs and lifts your hips in the air as your upper half still lays on the bed. Snapping his hips harder and faster inside you, causing the bed to shake as Curtis desperately wants to cum, fill you up and breed you. Have you fall pregnant and not know who or how, he’s heard you talk about being filled, fucked in your sleep by this mystery man that you have a crush on. Curtis has always been jealous of him, not knowing it was him that you were talking about. When he heard you tell his sister you popped your cherry with a toy, he had to quickly rush to his room and tug on his cock until his balls were wholly emptied. Curtis wants you full with his children. The thought of you walking around with a baby bump caused by him makes his cock throb, twitching wildly and balls tightening as he cums. White coats your walls, his cock buried deep inside you, and he feels you jerk and cum around him, pulsating around him, milking him dry of all inside him.
He slowly pulls out, looking down and scooping up the cum that leaks out before bringing it up to your mouth and pushing his fingers inside, groaning as he feels you suck on them. Curtis grabs the cute pair of knickers you had on and balls them into his hand, slowly crawling off the bed and bending down, placing a soft kiss on your lips before walking out of the room and to his. He heads to a set of drawers and opens them, adding to the collection of the other pairs he’s stolen from you. 
A dark smile forms on his face as he heads over to his bed and lies down, sighing in contempt. One day you will be his and his only, a gold band on your ring finger and a litter of kids running around.
You will hold his last name, whether you know it or not.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated
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geminixevans-stan · 7 months
Text
Sweetest Thing - 1
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Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female!Reader
Words: 4.5+k
Summary: When reader decides to start over, she moves to a new town hoping that she can make in the world on her own.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, explicit language, nothing too bad, more world building than anything
I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P
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Just the thought of starting your new life was all the reason you needed to finally open your eyes. The sight of your room fills you with joy—you’d decorated it yourself, and spared no expense. The walls are painted a baby-soft pink, offset by the butter-soft white sheets that adorn your bed. Soft, sheer curtains blocked the rising sun on the other side of the wide window, beneath which was a plush window seat. You already made up your mind that this area would be for when you wanted to look out and take in the world without having to leave your home. Two small side tables accompanied each side of the bed, holding a small vase housing a plant that you are currently trying your very best not to kill.
When buying that particular plant, you knew that it would probably not last long. But you were determined to live on your own and take on the responsibilities of a proper homeowner. The warmth of your bed enveloped you like the bear hugs that your daddy used to give you. The feeling was so good that you decided that maybe thirty more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt.
… Or that was the intention.
The next time that you blinked your eyes open, the sun had finally shown its beautiful face through your curtains, and the faint noises of cars passing by indicated that everyone on your street was up. You sit up, rubbing the remnants of your satisfying sleep from your eyes, and raising your arms to stretch. The comfortable silence that you were striving for was here and you smiled at the realization.
You swing your legs over the edge of the bed to slip your feet into the softness of your bedroom slippers, an item that you couldn’t leave without. Everything from your old life was dead and gone… except for those slippers. They were the last things that you received from your grandmother before her untimely passing. She was the only person, besides your dad, who really and truly wanted the best for you.
Victoria de Montfort was a name to be reckoned with in the world of fashion. She made such a name for herself that you suspect the generations following you will still be called fashion royalty. She was a powerhouse, her attention to detail in every stitch. She poured herself into each piece—that was something she’d taught you, too.
“Nothing means anything without love.”
After doing your morning hygiene routine of brushing your teeth, skincare, and a shower, you go downstairs and head straight for the kitchen. With you waking up so late, your stomach was saying some not-so-nice things to you and you needed food immediately. Another lesson that your grandmother taught you was to always keep a clean kitchen. No matter if you didn’t need to clean while you were still under your parents’ roof.
You lived a very wealthy life before this, and you know that naturally, anyone would wonder why you gave it all up. If anyone would outright ask you, they would think that they were part of a soap opera with all the drama that you had to endure. It took all the strength that you could muster to leave the comfortable life you’d known. But you weren’t happy—your mother, Nora, made sure of it. To her, you were just another link in the chain of the De Monfort family, and she’d groomed you to be the perfect heiress.
In a sick way, you had to thank her for being the evil woman that she was. If she hadn’t pushed so hard, you never would have decided to start your new life. With the constant bullying you’d endured from both your mother and brother, Caden, you had enough stories for your future therapist to write volumes. If they hadn’t pushed you away, you'd never have found yourself here— in Camden, Maine, living the life you’d thought you’d never have.
You step onto the tiled floor of your kitchen, standing there for a moment to take in the area as a whole. A wide kitchen island sits in the center of the room, and the counters are littered with your growing collection of silver appliances. The surfaces on the stove and counters gleamed beautifully in the sun, innocent of the future stains of your failed attempts to learn to cook and bake. Something that you couldn’t do because the De Montfort’s never lifted a finger.
Luckily for you, Grandma Victoria showed you a few recipes that stuck with you, ones that she would make for you when no one was looking. On mornings when it was just you and her, she would make the most sinful thing — a heaping stack of chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and a hot side of bacon. That was one secret that you were more than happy to keep from your own family.
The kitchen smelled just as it did when you were a little girl. The sweetness of the chocolate chips mixed with the syrupy sweet concoction of the maple bacon had your mouth salivating the entire time that they sizzled in the pan. You sit down at the table, setting it beforehand with your utensils and orange juice. You happily sit down with your plate in both hands, setting it on the table and saying a quick thanks before digging in.
Cutting into the pancakes is like a breath of fresh air, and you groaned with satisfaction when the familiar sweet taste touched your tongue. The mixture of flavors sent you back to your grandmother’s quaint kitchen table.
Whenever she had some time to herself, she would take impromptu “vacations” and would go off the grid, no one hearing a word from her.
But not you…
One vacation in particular was a week-long trip to Aspen. It called for heavy clothes at all times. The snow sparkled in your innocent eyes, nose moist as you tried to withstand the cold. You marveled at the pillows of soft ice on the ground, wanting to be one with it.
And so you were…
Without hesitation, you pulled off your bubble coat, tossing it on the ground as you fell back, feeling the instant coldness on your skin. You sigh in contentment, letting your joy fill you with warmth against the coolness. Bursts of laughter erupt from your lips, not paying attention to someone else watching you.
Victoria watched on, startled at first to see you doing something so ridiculous. But she warmed at the pure joy radiating from you and she could swear she saw her younger self lying in the same spot as you.
Her soft chuckle rouses you from your world, snapping up to see your grandmother with the most loving smile on her face. You tilt your head a bit, sure that you were in trouble but her face said something different, “You okay, Grammie?” You say in a confused tone.
She chuckles again, shaking her head, “More than, sweet bee, it’s like I’m looking at my younger self….”
As you enjoyed the most perfect breakfast, you couldn’t help but think of your grandmother and how proud she would be of you. To know that you got out and dared to start your path was something that you always wanted to do. Sure being wealthy had it’s perks but was that living?
One thing is for sure, you were going to find out and seek out a life that you could be proud of. As you begin to get lost in your thoughts, you hear a familiar sound coming from the kitchen island that held your phone. The ringtone only belonged to your one and only best friend, Thea. Your body moved before your feet could, rushing over to snatch your phone off the counter and answering quickly.
“Hello?” You answered, almost out of breath.
“It hasn’t been two days and you’re already whoring,” she says amused. You roll your eyes at her, eliciting that laugh that you missed so much.
“Yeah, yeah laugh it up. I haven’t even been out of this house yet to touch anything or anyone,” snickering as you looked at your friend who had a gleam in her eye, “What is it?” You ask, pulling a stool from the island and taking a seat.
A tremble formed on Thea’s lips and she continued to keep her eyes on you. You knew that she was getting emotional and before you could even say another word, she burst into tears. It didn’t take much for those salty drops of fluid to form in her eyes, Thea was just like that.
She was the most normal person in your life besides your grandmother. You two grew up together in the same circles. Although, her family were less… vapid than yours. Thea had been a breath of fresh air to your high-strung situation. You two were each other’s safe space and she was the only person that knew exactly where you were.
Everyone else knew that you were gone for some “you” time. That’s the story that your mother was pushing around since your untimely departure. You stare at the screen watching Thea’s eyes well with tears as she begins to talk super fast.
“It’sjusthtatyoudiditandi’msohappyforyou,” she says quickly, unable to form her words correctly as she bawled in front of you.
You were so used to her antics that you knew that you just had to let her go on with her spiel before you could get a word in.
“You’re doing it again! Slow down weirdo,” you chuckle as she lets out a watery laugh.
A smile forms on Thea’s lips as she grabs a nearby tissue to fix her face, “You know how I get. I’m proud of my friend! She finally got out of that castle with that evil dragon of a mother,” disgust on her tongue as she made a fake retching sound.
If anyone was a hater of Nora De Monfort, Thea would put them to shame. To say she loathed your mother was an understatement. If she met her untimely demise, Thea would plan an entire parade around your mother’s death.
And you can’t say that you wouldn’t be in attendance…
You and Thea talked on the phone for almost an hour. Catching up on the move, what you needed to do, and how her life was going. It was nice to know that she was slowly making a name for herself and getting comfortable with becoming a well-known socialite. The lights and fame were where Thea shined the most and she knew how to balance that life and still be her true self.
After you two caught up, you let her know that you had some errands to run and the first place on your list was to find a hardware store to add some more embellishments to your room. You were thinking of adding a small shelf above your bed to put some added Knick knacks, plants, or even pictures. It was whatever your heart desired and this was going to be your little project.
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Pushing open the door of Everett Hardware Store, the ringing of the bell startled you a bit making you jump in alertness. A man with a weathered face, placed his eyes on you, freezing you in place. But it didn’t last for long as you were put at ease by the wide smile he gave you.
“Welcome to Everett Hardware! You don’t seem like you’re from around here and I should know,” he chuckles, never taking his eyes off you, “The name’s Jerry, little missy, what can I do for ya?”
“I’m looking for wood? I guess? I’m not sure…”
“Well, what do you need the wood for?”
“I’m trying to build a mantel to go over my bed. Something big enough that I can put some plants or little decor pieces,” you say with certainty. You were determined to do this for yourself.
Jerry furrows his brow in thought, a low sound coming from his throat, “Seems like a good maple wood would be good for that. You’ll go down to aisle 4 and if you want I can help pick out a nice maple for you.”
“That’d be great and can I ask another question, Jerry?”
“Shoot.”
“What would I need to do the mantel?”
Jerry’s eyebrows rose at that question, “A pretty lady like you? Doing her dirty work. Now I don’t think I can let that happen,” he says, folding his arms.
You stare at Jerry in confusion, “Hey! I can do it!”
“And I don’t doubt you can but, what you’re trying to do ain’t a one-person job. I tell you what, I know a guy that will have that mantel up in an hour… two if you’re trying to get fancy.”
“Well, I do have a little fancy about me,” you say, doing a slight curtsy that made Jerry erupt with laughter.
“Funny gal, We’ll get along just fine. Just as a new member in the community, we want to make sure our own is taken care of. You pay for the wood and I’ll have my guy come and get that fancy mantel of yours done in no time.”
“Oh no that wou-“ your words cut off before you could even finish them as you see Jerry put his hand up.
“Now I won’t hear another thing, little lady. Let’s get you something nice,” determination in his voice and he leads you to the aisle holding all sorts of wood.
He was just like your grandmother, stubborn and wouldn’t hear a thing from anyone who lent a helping hand too. That made you feel a little more at ease as you followed Jerry down the aisle, amazed at all the different types of wood and the sweet smell coming from the maple solidified the suggestion that Jerry made.
Your eyes landed on a thick piece, sturdy and looking heavy enough to hold just the right amount of things that you wanted to put on it. Taking a look at Jerry, you point up to the piece of wood high on the shelf, “I like that one. It speaks to me and that’s the only one I want,” you take a subtle gulp, not used to getting your way where it counted, you were ready for a rebuttal and you didn’t get one.
A gleam came into Jerry’s eyes as he did a deep chuckle, “You got a good eye, I’ll tell ya that! Would have been my pick too.”
The time at the hardware store was your first time paying for anything in your life. Usually, others did the shopping for you and it was refreshing to be able to pay for something that was all yours. You and Jerry found the right size of maple wood for the mantel and even bought some tools — just in case you were in the mood to fix other things in your house.
He helped you load everything in the car before mentioning someone by the name of Curtis would be stopping by to help with the mantel. You let out a sigh, shaking your head at him, “I swear I have it, Jerry. That’s too much.”
Jerry folds his arms, dead set on what he promised, “This ain’t up for discussion, little lady. Think of it as a welcome present from the town,” a small smile appearing on his lips, “It’s okay to get some help sometime. If you want, maybe Curtis will let ya help. Show you a few tips or two,” you could no longer decline the gesture.
“Okay… okay. I’ll let him come over. Under one condition…”
“I’m sure he can meet yer’ demands. What’s the condition?”
“He can’t say no.”
Jerry furrows his brow, unable to grasp what you just said, “He can’t say no… to what?”
“To anything. Not that I will ask him to do anything crazy. But that’s the rule,” you wanted to hide or disappear for making a rule. You didn’t know how this would play out but you were proud of yourself.
Jerry shrugged his shoulders, “Alright. I’ll let him know. Now if he’ll listen is the real challenge,” he chuckles, walking back to the store, pushing the door open, “Go easy on him will ya?”
“I’ll try my best,” your words caught in laughter as you waved goodbye and got back in your car. You take the scenic route back home, looking at all the places that Camden has to offer. Down the street from the hardware store was a cozy-looking coffee shop, small enough to fit enough people and you made a note to visit later. Maybe even tomorrow.
You take in the oranges, yellows, and golds for the leaves littering the streets, signaling the changing season. The noticeable change in temperature when you first got here was indicative that you may see some snow for the first time in ages. That puts a small smile on your face as you turn into the driveway, happy that you made it back home.
Home….home…
Something that you haven’t felt in a long time came back to you and all you could do was enjoy that moment for a while, lying your head back against the seat as you finally realize that you have a home of your own. Your place of peace.
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Thunk
“Ouch..”
Thunk… THUNK!!
“OW!! Dammit!!” You screech out, dropping the hammer to the floor and you suck on your injured thumb. The stinging pain ran down the whole of your thumb, throbbing slowly as you tried to quell the discomfort. It was hour 2 of trying to put the mantel up and no YouTube tutorial in the world could help the obvious.
You were not a handy person…
Nor did you have enough manpower to get the job done. There was no way you would be able to hold a heavy piece of wood and drill it into the wall. At least that’s the excuse that you came up with. You got off the ladder, frustrated by the entire idea.
But one thing is for sure; you couldn’t be mad and hungry. You didn’t have the energy to attempt to cook anything so you decided that pizza or takeout would be the greatest choice. With a half-defeated spirit, you plop down on your couch and start to search for restaurants on your phone. There were a couple of pizza places that stood out as well as some Thai and Chinese places.
You were stuck on both but before you could make a choice, a ring at the bell startled you, making your head snap to the door. The figure on the outside covered the entire length of the door so you couldn’t get a good look at the person’s face. The bell rings again and you stay still, uncertain if you should answer or not.
“Maybe they’ll go away…” you thought to yourself, noticing some movement at your door before the person stood still again.
A ding coming from your phone fills the room and you jump, finding it behind you as you look to see what app went off or your weekly email from your dad that you don’t bother reading. Instead, you see a text message from an unfamiliar number reading.
It’s Curtis from the hardware store. Jerry told me to come over. Just wondering if you’re home.
“Shit!” You whispered loudly, running up to the door to swing it open. Curtis steps back, giving you a first look at him as you crane your neck up to look at him. He is… very tall with a clean buzz cut to match the neatly trimmed beard on his face. His plaid shirt spread over his expansive shoulders, a thin cotton shirt hugging the noticeable broad chest that could be a great pillow for someone.
Or you….
Nope! You couldn’t be thinking this way about a stranger, even if he looked like a warm hug and a piece of art. You have been staring at him for too long, the clearing of his throat snapped you back to reality and you finally could think, “Um, you’re Curtis? Jerry’s guy right?”
Curtis chuckled, adjusting his bag as he took a look at you, “Yeah I’m the guy. I help him out sometimes,” a smirk pulled on his lips as if he knew something you didn’t.
But it was no matter, you needed a mantel and you were going to let him do it, “So Curtis… Chinese or pizza?” You say as your stomach grumbles for something greasy, “Pick or I’m choosing both,” you look at him with a straight face, feeling small on the inside with him almost towering over you.
“I’m not opposed to both and I’ll even pay for it.”
“Nope. I pay. You fix. There’s a hammer that lost it’s life in there and I just can’t go back into that massacre. So, I’ll pay and feed you. That a deal?”
Curtis takes one long look at you, standing straight before shrugging his shoulders, “It’s not like I can say no, right? You are the boss, ma’am.”
A tiny shock sent through when he said those words, but you quelled it down before you were able to speak, “I like you already Curtis. I think we’ll be just fine,” you smile, moving out of his way so that he can come in.
A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth before he walks past you, stopping to lean down, “ You had me at food, ma’am. I’ll never say no to eating,” he steps into your house as you follow behind, closing and locking up. Curtis takes a look around, making note of the familiarity of the house, “This is the old Hancock place. We didn’t think they would ever sell it,” the timbre of his voice trailing as he begins to look around the place.
You follow behind him, mimicking the path of his sight as you notice some things that need to be repainted or even redone. The mention of the previous owners intrigues you and you decide to ask, “Were they well known around here?”
“One of many. I live down the street so I was here many days playing with the other kids. Time goes by fast is all,” a small smile pulls at this lip as he turns to you, “By the looks of everything, I think this house is in good hands.”
His words warm you in a way that you’ve never felt before, causing a nervous chuckle to escape you before you could stifle it. You quickly recover, taking a deep breath as you try to change the subject, “Ready to see the bomb I let off in my room?” Smirking a bit as you begin to walk down the hallway.
Curtis follows along, snickering at you, “I’m sure it’s not that….” He takes a look at your room as he stands at the threshold, taking everything in. “What exactly did you try to do in here?” Genuine confusion on his face as he tries to make sense of all the scattered materials on your floor.
You stand in the middle of the room, looking around before looking at him, “I was trying to put my mantle up. I read all the instructions, looked at tutorials and nothing,” You knew that you should have waited but determination surperceded your memory. Which is why you were in the predicament you were in now. You look around, finally seeing the actually mess in your room, feeling your heart race and before you knew it… “You know what? Let me clean this up. Shit… I should have never… I’m so sorry let me get this cleaned up. I’ll be quick, I promise,” you say hurriedly as you begin to pick things up and put them back down, feeling the frustration arise as you try to grab anything on the floor in sight.
The sight before Curtis was like a tornado and he needed to stop it before you went into a full on panic attack. He steps over, placing his hands on your shoulders, looking down at you, “Woah, woah! Slow down there. It’s fine, I’ve seen worse okay?” He says softly, keeping you in place as you begin to calm down, breathing deeply, “There you go, keep breathing,” his instructions are all you can hear as the blood lowers from your ears slowly. You hadn’t felt that feeling in months and one mistake sent you into a frenzy.
You’re not there anymore…
You’re free…
You’re going to be okay…
You repeat that in your head over and over, listening to Curtis as you keep your breath steady until you no longer feel that familiar tightness in your chest. The room begins to come back into view the first thing you see is the cerulean orbs staring down at you. For a moment, you see just a speck of green in them and you decide to get lost for just a second.
The sound of your name brings you back to life as you hear it come from Curtis’s lips, sounding like a the sweetest thing you ever heard. He’s silent for a second, paying attention to beauty of your eyes, clearing his throat before he sees you fully alert, “You okay?”
You do a quick nod, taking another deep breath, “Yeah… yeah. I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t sweat it. We all get overwhelmed,” he says in a reassuring tone as she squeezes your shoulders lightly, “Relax. I’m here to fix and you have some food to order. M’ not picky either,” he smirks lightly as you let out a soft laugh.
“Who’s the boss here, you or me?”
Curtis takes a deep breath, letting out a quick chuckle, “You are and what happened to the food boss?”
“Oh right! What kind of boss am I?” You teased, pulling away from him and walking out of the room, “One round of sinful food coming up!” You shout, going out to grab your phone before sitting down. You take another breath, replaying the way Cursis said your name. It wasn’t said with vitriol or disgust.
But with care…
You wanted him to say again. Just like that… Just to give you something that you always craved….
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biteofcherry · 2 months
Note
Curtis size kink 😉
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Not only it's an honor, you remind yourself, but you wanted it.
You wanted Curtis for so long, watching him in silence and dreaming of him late in the night, with your fingers buried between your thighs.
And your shy dreams came true when he picked you for his bride, one of the great prizes he was rewarded with for overthrowing Wilford (prizes Curtis took himself, without waiting for anyone's permission).
But now, as you stand before him in nothing but your thin slip; your dirty, torn clothes discarded; you shiver in fear.
Curtis is so big. All over.
You always noticed that he was taller, broader, thicker. Your mind had no problem imagining him in his naked glory when you got yourself off, but it didn't come close to the reality.
Curtis looked at you with amusement, his hand slowly stroking his cock. It was bigger than you imagined. Quite long, slightly curved, with girth you'd have trouble closing your fingers around.
"Come here, little one," he beckoned you with his free hand.
Obediently, you shuffled forward.
"Take this off, please," Curtis tugged on your slip, "I want to see all of you."
When the last barrier between you was tossed away, Curtis released his cock and put both of his hands on your hips. He ran soothing circles with his thumbs, while he slowly dragged his gaze from your face down to your mound.
You gasped, hands falling forward to grip Curtis' shoulders, as he slipped one of his hands between your thighs. He stroked his fingers between your folds, finding you already wet for him.
When he pumped a single digit inside you, you couldn't help the little squeak. Curtis laughed softly at that.
"So tight, little one," he explored your cunt. "Are you afraid my cock won't fit? That's why you're trembling?"
Your nod seemed to please him greatly. His grin was a flash of danger, which you recognized too late to save yourself.
Curtis withdrew his fingers and hoisted you up and over his lap.
"It is too big for a tight, unused hole like yours." He pushed your hips down. You felt the nudge of the crown of his cock against your opening.
"But you will take it, little one."
He forced you lower, sliding inside your resisting walls.
"You'll let me stretch your sweet pussy and learn to take it as often and as rough, as I want."
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Curtis Everett Masterlist
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months
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evergreen university
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a/n: probably the story, so far, that took me the longest to write (like 7 months total)... lot of love went into this, so I hope you all enjoy it ♡
warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (detective!family friend!Ari Levinson, Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), dark content, university AU, murder mystery, polyamory, explicit sexual content, total word count is 17,5k
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: about ;
student bios
: stories ;
the murder at evergreen university
sour summer
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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dungeonpuppykai · 9 months
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|| Balance ||
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Summary: Your father had outdone his own selfishness when he had handed the train off to Curtis with no regard for you. But was it so bad, really?
Pairing: Dark!Curtis Everett | Cruel Brat!You.
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Curtis Everett. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.
Warning(s): Non-con/Dub-con, dark-ish spoilt Princess reader becomes Curtis' bitch, gun play, spanking (with a belt), humiliation, degradation, pet names, fear kink, finger sucking, age gap (reader is 20's, Curtis is 40's), leash, objectification, sloppy blowjob turns rough, untrimmed lumberjack Curtis, hair pulling, boob play, mentions of complete submission, questionable shit that I am unapologetic for.
Note: This scenario has been living rent free in my head ever since I watched the movie. Fair warning, it is pretty dark. But then again, so is Curtis. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷
MASTERLIST
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"I can smell you, dolly~" your heart hammered inside it's cage as you clasped your shaky lips to a halt, suppressing your laboured breathing as you peeked with one eye to see where the giant man was from your position behind one of the huge shelves in your father's cabin. 
Curtis Everett took his sweet time investigating the space, searching for you calmly as he called out to you. His sweet coos caused the hair at the back of your nape to rise. He was covered in dust and blood, a gun carelessly hanging by his fingers. Your thighs quivered as you tried to breathe as quietly as you could, feeling a tinge between your legs. 
The fear was messing with your body and the terror of what might happen to you once he did find you -which let's be honest, was inevitable since there was no where to run- caused all kinds of reactions within your body. 
"Are you over… here?" A gasp threatened to slip past your trembling fingertips when he very effortlessly toppled over a chair dangerously close to you, chuckling to himself and tutting when your position continued to be a mystery. "You know I'll find you now or later, Princess…" Curtis was now passing right by you. "You're only making it worse for yourself by hiding, you know~" your shoulders relaxed a little when he lingered in front of you for a moment but when passed by. "If you come out now, I won't have to-" his terrifyingly convincing words had your body acting before it could stop itself. 
The sound caused by you crawling out of your hiding space had the tall man spinning on his heels. A smile settled on his lips when he found you peeking up at him from your position on the ground. 
"Already crawling for me?" His condescending words had you quickly scrambling to your feet as you whimpered in response to the proximity his quick walk towards you had caused between your bodies. "Aren't you just the most precious little doll?" 
"Y- You said…" The desperation of your voice made you feel disgusted with yourself. You hated your father. A bile rose in your throat when you lowered your head in response to his sharp gaze fucking your body in the most humiliating way. He didn't even try to hide it. "You said you w- wouldn't hurt me if I didn't h- hide" these people were nothing. You had never cared what your father or the people of your section thought. To you, the lower sections were just filth to stomp on. They were nothing more than unfortunate degenerates that lived to serve you.
"I said I wouldn't have to do worse" the muscles in your thighs clenched when he caressed your cheek with the tip of the gun. And now because of your bastard father, you had no choice but to rely on the mercy of these lowlifes. "Hmm… so pampered and soft" Curtis sighed when he cupped your face with his other hand now, his coarse thumb tracing the shape of your lips before he pushed the digit inside. 
You gagged in response to his dirty finger intruding you so intimately. He let out a heavy chuckle, taking it as an invitation to push it further in until he was knuckle deep, sighing to himself as he explored your warm and wet cavern. Your eyes filled with tears as the humiliation washed over you and overwhelmed your already overstimulated senses. 
"Aw, you don't like this, Princess?" His taunt triggered a flashback where you had said the same exact thing while torturing someone from the tail section about a minor inconvenience while you made the others watch. "Too bad you don't have a choice, huh?" Your fists clenched as you suppressed the urge smack the smirk right off his disgusting face. 
The thick hot tears finally trickled down your cheeks. His thumb made you gag again as it dipped down to your throat, the salty and metallic taste coating it making your mouth sting. Curtis refused to let you hide your face away so you could hide your tears and your arms were too lifeless for you to simply wipe them away. 
"Hm, I wonder…" The gun now trailed down from your jaw to your neck, circling around the locket you always wore as your mother had left it to you before slowly trickling its way atop the valley of your breasts. "If Goddesses look the same as us lowlifes under their fancy little attires…" Your heart threatened to burst right out of your chest. More flashbacks followed as you winced now, having no choice but to unintentionally suck his thumb when you tried to breath. Your eyes shut themselves in embarrassment after a few more tears spilled. 
You forced the tail section to hail and bow down to you every now and then merely for entertainment. You made them tell you you were their Goddess and the only one that should be worshipped. Those who tried to resist faced horrible consequences at the hands of your personal guards and servants. Your 'royalty' was the only thing your otherwise unavailable father had been good for. It was the only thing he had given you in your whole life. So you took to both using and misusing it in every way you could.
"Or are they really are different from the rest of us degenerates- tsk" he clicked his tongue before patting your cheek. "Come now, doll. Let me see those Godly eyes" a shiver trembled itself out of your body. 
You had no choice.
Just how they hadn't. 
Curtis felt a pang of excitement trickle down his spine when your now reddening eyes opened back up and you tried to look anywhere but at him. 
"Hm… they seem pretty ordinary to me…" The comment was for your eyes as the gun intruded your neckline more and more with the passing second. "What about…" The man hooked the weapon under one of your breasts and pushed it up and out of the fabric covering them as he tilted his head, the humiliating concentration on his face making your cheeks burn as you whimpered against his thumb again, gagging when it started to massage your tongue. 
The tingles in the spot between your legs in response to the whole experience increased all the while.
You dared not ponder over it, afraid of what horror laid in the reason behind it. 
"Hm, you know what?" Curtis suddenly deprived you of all touch. Wait, are you wondering why you know his name? Have you forgotten already? You had asked him what it was before you made him kneel on all fours on the ground before using his back as a chair while you had the workers take the newborns under your father's orders. Why? You simply didn't care why. "I want it all off." He used the gun to gesture towards your clothes. "Because so far I haven't seen anything that makes you any more special than the people you loved to shit on" more tears spilled from your eyes. 
Your usually loud mouth seemed to have forgotten all words today. 
"Come on, Princess. I don't have all day…" His words were followed by his fingers undoing and freeing his belt before he held in a manner that looked threatening enough for you to let out a sob as you slowly shook your head before muttering out a plea. Curtis coldly chuckled. "Hm, adorable. Now, come on." You flinched when he tapped the side of your thigh with the belt he had doubled over in his hand. 
"P- Please…" 
"You wanna please me?" The only things he could remember was the hopelessness and humiliation she has wreaked upon the tail section all those years ever since she was a child. "Aw, doll. That is sweet of you." Another sob left her. The man was unfazed as he continued to caress the side of her leg with the belt, dark eyes running up and down her body. 
"N- No, like… please… please…" He sighed as his eyes hardened. 
"You really want to make this worse than it already is, huh?" The seriousness of his tone caused a tight little hot ball to form between her hips. "Little brats like you just can't help themselves, can they? No, they love to get in trouble. That's why they go out of their way to create it. So someone can come along and show them their real place, huh?" The knot of heat rolled further down your abdomen. 
What was happening to you? 
You went to speak but were cut off. "If these pretty little clothes don't come off by the count of three, I will take them off but in front of the entire tail section waiting to claw you to pretty little bits and pieces right outside this room…" Your breath hitched in your throat when the tip of the gun collected the sweat beads formed on one of your temples. "Would you like that, huh, doll?" Before he could even start the countdown, you hiccuped before a few sobs followed the quivering breaths and your numbing fingers reached for the zip and harnesses of your dress. 
Without allowing yourself to ponder over it, you quickly rid yourself of the fancy fabrics, knowing that it was inevitable and the other way would be much more unpleasant than this. You had degraded these people in the worst ways possible for many years, if you still got to have some form of mercy, you were going to take it. 
"The rest too, giddy up~" your wet cheeks burnt hotter as you averted your eyes to the floor, keeping them trained on the spot between his feet as you blinked the tears away and complied to his orders, depriving yourself of all dignity with your own hands. "Hmm…" Curtis seemed unbothered by your nudity. Like nothing was out of the ordinary and it was just a normal day. 
As if this was the natural way of things. 
"I don't anything special here" the pressure between your hips increased when he started to poke and prod at your hardened nipples with the tip of the gun before he circled you like a hungered animal does a piece of meat, continuing to press and caress random parts of your body. "Let's see…" Curtis sighed now. "Spread these pretty Princess legs, now. Maybe there's something special there that makes you feel obligated to act that high and mighty" you felt the belt penetrate the space between your legs. 
You bit your lip as more and more flashbacks resurfaced, haunting and mocking. Your chest heaved for air the more you sobbed, bending forwards as your hands reached for your ass cheeks and you spread your legs before parting them for him to look at. 
You were well familiar with the desperation in the eyes of the tail section lowlifes to know that if you didn't obey and maybe pleased him however he wanted, you would suffer the same fate as everyone from your side of the train. 
And nothing was worse than dying.
… Right? 
"Hmmm, nothing special here either" the male's tone was scalding as he spread your nether petals with the tip of the gun -that caused a new kind of rush and panic within your body every time it made contact with it- before he pulled the metal weapon away. "So you really are nothing special, after all…" Your eyes continued to watch his feet and how they appeared before disappearing for a few moments each time he completed a round around your naked and shaking body. 
"If anything," a loud shriek ripped itself out of your throat when he suddenly landed the belt on your ass, the swat catching your hands holding them apart in the process. You quickly retreated them, causing him to scoff at your reaction as you held them to your chest, sobbing and blowing on them as you rubbed them to try and soothe the burn. Another lash was given to your sensitive and fragile skin that wasn't used to being handled roughly. But now a thick angry red line appeared across your lap. "You're worse." The next blow landed on your ass again, but this time your knees buckled up and you fell on your hands and knees. 
"Because even though you could be ripped to shreds at any given moment upon my command, you're leaking like a desperate little breeding bitch all because I forced you to strip for me" you felt him place his dusty boot on your back before he pressed it down against you. 
Fuck.
That was going to leave an imprint.
Your whipped thighs trembled and body jerked forwards when he landed his belt against your ass again. The only things you could register and process was your own crying, the humiliation his words were causing and the hot pain his merciless belt was inflicting upon your ass cheeks. 
He just kept going, loving the welts and bruises that were forming on your formerly spotless skin. 
"P- Please!" You forced yourself to plea out loud when he just wouldn't stop. "Please! I- It hurts! I am s- sorry! Please!" He just chuckled in response, pushing you against the ground harder and harder with each hit.
"Maybe your father knew this is exactly what you needed, huh? Someone to come along and beat some sense into that smooth brain of yours." Out of all the things he had said to you, this one stung the most. Perhaps more than the physical pain he was inflicting upon your ass. "He knew that you couldn't carry his legacy. Your little brain is too small for tasks like that, isn't it? Brats like you are only meant to be broken into submission and then made to serve" the hits finally halted. He removed his foot. Your seething ass cheeks were parted again but with his fingers this time. 
Your body shook from how violent and loud your sobs had gotten. Curtis chuckled at something before you felt him get closer to your head. A thick and rough band snaked around your neck before you felt it getting tighter until it was wrapped and locked around your throat. You winced when you felt a tug at it. His belt. 
"Look, doll." His thick beard scratched against your ear as he whispered right into it. "Your mess on the floor is confirmation" the bile in your throat felt tighter against the makeshift… leash. "Whether you want to admit it or not… you are loving this" you wanted to vomit. The taste of his thumb was still very strong on your tongue, the pungent scent of his body further aggravating your already distressed senses. "I knew it." 
Curtis stood up to his full height and tugged at the belt, causing your neck to humiliatingly jerk in the direction of his pull. "Come on." He started to march you towards the chair your father always sat on. Your weak and sensitive knees burnt and screamed at you to stop. But the moment you'd falter, the leather wrapped around your throat would forcefully pull you forward, making you almost slide behind him. 
"There we go~" the man took a seat on his throne -your father had treated the chair as no less- before he started to wrap the belt-leash around his big and rough hand until his blistered knuckles were touching the sweaty and cold skin of your neck. You almost retched when the tip of your nose grazed against his crotch since he had forced you right between his giant legs that he had spread open. 
You tried to back up; break free. But there was no way to turn or move with how tightly he held the belt. You did your best to control your breathing and not lash at his face with your claws. He had a gun and an entire army of savages waiting outside. 
For better or worse, he may be your only chance at surviving this in one piece. 
"You look prettier than what I would imagine every night after the day you would visit the tail section" a shard of icy fear tore down the ligaments of your spine before spreading in all directions at the base. "Submission looks so good on you, doll." He leaned forward and you shuddered at the sensation of his breath hitting your mouth. So close. Your feet tickled. "You wanna be good for me, right?" The tears in your eyes refused to stop flowing. You hated them and yourself for being so weak. It was shameful to let others see you cry. But you were so helpless without your guards and servants. 
Weak. 
You had no choice but to take whatever he decided to give you. 
The pressure between your hips worsened. 
Whore. 
"Nod and tell me yes" the heavy thumping of his fingers against your cheek brought you out of your head. A wince shook its way past your lips when your spanked ass touched the heels of your feet. The overwhelming pain caused you to jolt forwards, going nose first into Curtis' face and making him chuckle. "Aren't you the most eager and adorable little doll?" Your face burnt in humiliation as you tried to pull away again but in vain, he only further tightened his grip around your windpipe. You choked, his face hardened. "I told you to nod and tell me yes." 
The realization of the power imbalance between you two drove shards of shame down your limbs as you lowered your head and whimpered. "Y- Yes…" Your words followed a humiliating nod. 
"Yes what?"
"Uhmm… C- Curt-" a loud gasp elicited out of you when you felt a punishing smack deliver to the side of your head which lolled due to the impact. Your bottom lip trembled as you blinked the stars away before peeking up at him through your lashes. 
"Sir. It's sir to you, dimwit" he smacked the back of your head again, but this time the pain was felt in the base of your stomach which soon morphed into a hot ball that flooded down your holes. 
Curtis moved back and leaned his back against the chair lazily, lacing the fingers of his free hand through your hair before he trained his eyes on you from scanning the rest of your body before pulling at the strands roughly. You cried out and pouted, he silently cursed and pressed his legs against your arms. 
"Come here and undo my pants" your eyes widened but the second tug at your scalp had you complying before you could think twice. "Hmmm…" As your shaky fingers fiddled with the fly, he continued to play with your hair. "Maybe I should cut all this pretty hair off. Mayhaps make you a cute little slutty cue ball…" Your heart leaped at his words. Oh God no. "Turn you into a clean little slate to paint and mould however I please… This is a fresh start, after all" his nails scratched against your scalp and you sobbed in the musky scent that wafted out from inside his pants. "Hmm… Now pull my cock out" you sighed in relief despite how horrifying his words were. 
At least his attention wasn't on your poor hair anymore. 
What kind of a twisted person can say something like that? 
Sure, you playfully suggested for the tail section ladies to cut or buzz their hair sometimes but it was only because they didn't have the proper facilities to take care of it. 
You gulped to yourself and felt your core throb when you went to pull his cock out and it just seemed to never end. Four pulls later, Curtis' brutally thick and monstrously large cock was standing angrily in front of your face, his pubic hair decorating the organ and his matching ballsack. 
Fuck. 
It was almost beautiful. 
"Put those slut doll boobs around it" your breath hitched at his words but a firm tug at the hair on the top of your head had you obeying his order. Anything but your hair. Biting your lip, you lowered your eyes before gathering your breasts in your sweaty hands. But you stopped when he clicked his tongue and tutted. "Now, now. Why are you shying away, Princess? I thought you liked to look into people's eyes, hm?" You felt like kicking yourself. 
He was tormenting you for the torture you had inflicted on him and his people for so many years. 
"Look me in the eyes while you do it" this time the pull was at the leash. You gulped again before you slowly looked up at him, a whole new sense of shame wrapping itself around your body when you saw the smug expression on his face. "And tell me yes sir."
Your palms met with the base of your breasts again. "Y- Yes, sir." Before you slowly moved forward and tried to ignore the fear and disgust boiling in your loins.
"Smile and thank me for being so generous and merciful" your knees almost buckled up when he scratched right behind your ear with the hand that was laced through your hair. 
Your body was just confused… right?
It was just scared and excited– panicked because of this sudden burst of stressful emotions.
Since you had never experienced any of this before and now were suddenly being subjected to so much all at the same time, it didn't know how to act.
Yes, that had to be it.
You slowly smiled, feeling his nether hairs tickle the skin of your breasts as you clamped them around his cock, shivering at the contact. His veins were so thick and hot against your skin. "T- Thank you so much for being so generous and merciful, s- sir." Curtis bit his lip. 
"Fuck, doll. You're just a natural, aren't you?" His musky scent filled up your senses as you continued to smile, not knowing what else to do. The man suddenly spat on his cock, some of the splatter also falling on your breasts. You flinched and nearly broke away with a gasp but his grip on your throat and head both warned and restricted you against it. "Move. Up and down, come on. Move and take the tip in your mouth, like the little slutty Princess that you are." 
You almost faltered. But the darkness in his eyes quickly reminded you of the situation and so you started to move, your bottom lip wobbling once more. Your belted thighs burnt from the movement and knees ached. But you knew better than to stop. 
Your breathing became laboured the more you moved, the thick red tip of his cock brushing against your lips each time you went down. Curtis hissed and grunted, snarling out condescending praises while his hips rocked against your boobs. He demanded you to take him inside his mouth again. You complied, gagging at the strong salty taste of his warm cock once he was finally inside. Your jaw ached. Fuck, he was big.
"Such a perfect cum dumpster" his voice was turning hoarse and animalistic, fingers tightening around your hair and causing a dull ache in your scalp. The belt would restrict you of oxygen every now and then, his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag to probably reach the desired effect. Stars littered your vision each time the male decided to restrict you of air. 
Some things ached, others burnt. But nothing hurt harder than your pussy. Your abdomen was in actual pain at this point, thighs clammy and bruising cheeks squelching due to the amount of the white matter seeping out of your hole. 
"That's it… such a perfect cum rag. Made to serve her Master… right?" You nodded, trying to peek up at him as your hollowed cheeks made humiliating sounds. "Good fucking cum dumpster Princess" you had told them that the lower classes lived to serve their Masters. He was only throwing them back in your face. 
Oh, how the tables had turned. 
Eventually, the slow and sloppy blowjob turned into fast and rough face fucking. Curtis slapped your hands away before he parted your hair into two pigtails and wrapped them around both his hands at either side of your head for a firm grip. From that point on, your slowed brain could barely register anything. The only thing you could hear was your own moans and retching as your tits flew left and right, ass burning each time it would come in contact with your heels due to how violently he was bouncing your body up and down like a yoyo. 
Your head bobbed up and down his fat cock, pre-cum and spit oozing out of your nose as you choked each time he would penetrate your throat a centimeter more. Your red face was coated in sweat and tears, fingers curled around his calves for support.
Curtis grunted as he thrusted in and out of your mouth, tipping his head back and nearly growling when he finally orgasmed, tightening his grip on your hair as he jerked his cock inside your throat fully and finally. While his length violated your hot cavern in the form of quick jabs, your throat stretched and jaw nearly dislocated from the girth of his ballsack penetrating -or trying to- your mouth.
The taste of his salty cum took over your sensory buds. Your eyelids became droopy and chest heaved due to the lack of oxygen, brain making you nearly pass out when Curtis finally released your hair and pulled out, cursing as he jacked the rest of his orgasm out and all over your face. 
Your whole body shook as you collapsed against one of his thick thighs, landing on your cheek and letting your eyes flutter close against the bursts of his cum.
Ever since you could remember, you had been given all the power possible in the world you had opened your eyes in as compensation for an unavailable father and no mother. An only child with everyone bowing down to her with an authority she didn't understand, you had used it for everything you could. Necessities, entertainment, emotional needs and voids, it was all you had; all you knew. 
You had never known balance nor restraint. 
The concept has ironically existed all around you but never made itself acquainted with you. 
So you rebelled. Assaulted. Violated. Misused. In the hopes that someone would step up. Teach you. Take the overwhelming amount of power away from you. Of course it wouldn't be easy. But it would put an end to this frustration, this loss of direction, nonexistence of purpose you had suffered your whole life.
As you slowly opened your eyes and peeked up at the man softly panting while watching you, softly scratching your aching scalp with his nails. You felt a strange kind of light dawn upon you. A new kind of hope and warmth washed over you. Your body curled against his. 
Savior. 
"... G- God…?" Curtis blinked before he registered what you had just said. A smile slowly pulled itself on his face. 
A God is a savior, right? Someone who provides a direction and protects from follies like excessiveness and uselessness. A being who provides a sense of purpose. Helps exercise balance. Protects yet destroys. Batters but builds. Shatters and then mends. The mighty and all powerful; one who controls and regulates.
"Definitely yours." You softly sobbed and smiled, whispering out praises and thanks as you kissed everywhere you could reach him. Curtis slowly shook his head as he caressed your head, silently commending himself on how accurately he had read you. 
You were exactly what he had thought.
Just a pathetic little brat with unbalanced power she didn't understand nor deserve.
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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year
Note
Put of the trio who is the biggest daddy?
Meet Your Trio of Daddies!
Warning: the below descriptions contain references to smut, spanking, edging, and more. Minors DNI
P.S. If you love Dominant Daddies and OTT Alphaholes, then please check out my Trio Series Masterlist!
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Ari: It's no secret that he loves to baby you. He believes in keeping a watchful eye over his little one, making sure you're eating and getting enough rest. He does not tolerate you skipping meals. That's the easiest way to earn a punishment from him.
Ari also loves to cook for you, and believes dinner is best enjoyed with you in his lap. He's also the type of Daddy who insists upon cutting up your food so that he can feed you every bite. When you're through, he'll take you upstairs and give you a bath. And if you've been good, bathtime quickly becomes playtime.
His favorite way to punish you? Cock Warming, preferably with a freshly spanked bottom. And no, naughty girls like you are not allowed to wear clothes.
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Curtis: He is a sweet and stern kind of Daddy who just wants you to be the best version yourself. He is quite possibly the sternest of the three and will not hesitate to discipline you when he feels you need it. Curtis is well aware that his baby struggles with being on time and staying organized, so he knows that you need a firm hand.
And like Ari, he's also big on you taking care of yourself. The easiest way to earn a punishment is for him to find out that you purposely skipped something like a doctor's appointment. And please don't try to lie to him about it. He hates that. And all that will earn you is a date with his belt.
His favorite way to punish you? Edging you while you're blindfolded and bound to the bed. You always look so pitiful like that. Poor baby.
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Andy: He treats you like you're his little doll. He loves to spoil you with expensive things and fancy clothes. This man lives for dressing you up and showing you off. But he won't ever let you forget that you're his. Oh, no. Andy also possesses a bit of a housewife kink. Now, he will let you brat, but only to a point. Mostly because he enjoys taming you.
He also believes in keeping you close at all times, even while he works. So when he's using his home office, he sometimes has you sitting on the floor next to him, resting your head on his thigh. Occasionally he'll pause to caress your cheek or play with your hair. And if you start getting antsy, he'll make you sit in his lap while he finishes whatever he's doing.
His favorite way to punish you? With a paddle he had specially made for you. When he's through, you can either expect to spend the rest of the day walking around with a plug in your ass. Or, worse yet, your brand new chastity belt.
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lilacevans · 3 months
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𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬.
✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚
*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here. *this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.
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ೃ⁀➷ 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 - 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. | breeding kink.
ೃ⁀➷ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 - 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. | puppy play
ೃ⁀➷ 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 - 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. | spit kink, choking.
ೃ⁀➷ 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. | bondage.
ೃ⁀➷ 𝐠𝐨𝐭'𝐜𝐡𝐚 - 𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | crying kink, chase kink, dub-con/non-con
ೃ⁀➷ 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 - 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. | throatfucking, dub-con. | coming soon!
ೃ⁀➷ 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝 - 𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. | humiliation, ball-sucking.
ೃ⁀➷ 𝐨𝐱𝐲𝐠𝐞𝐧 - 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. | choking, puppy play. | coming soon!
ೃ⁀➷ 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐝 - 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. | choking, pushed too far. | coming soon!
+ more! coming soon!
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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year
Text
A Permanent Claim: Part 2
The twin beds set against the wall were made in perfection, a task that you speculated was taken on by the maids Pari said Curtis had hired to look after the twin mess.
The dark grey blankets were pulled taut against the bed with lighter pillows placed at the top of the mattress with a stuffed bear on one bed and an alligator on the other.
The closet doors that were placed across from each bed were closed, the frosted glass giving you a limited view of their clothes inside, although you could depict the black and white soccer ball sitting on the floor by the door hinges.
The room was clean and well organized though it hadn’t looked like a typical little boys’ room, there was a distinctive lack of toys or games, the walls were decorated with generic canvas pictures but nothing that would have related to their personalities. It seemed as if their room was ripped from the pages of some interior design magazine, copied and pasted into the house. There was little here that was conducive to Theo and James, or it had appeared that way to you.
“I’ll show you the nanny suite.” Pari directed you out of the room, closing the door behind the two of you before she stepped further into the hall, the extension of the crisp and clean aesthetic of the boy’s rooms continuing into the hall.
The carpet beneath your feet was soft, and you found yourself curling your toes into the material briefly before you followed Pari down the hall toward the next set of doors on the right side of the long hallway.
Pari had given you the rundown on the twins’ schedule, the latest time they could stay up and when Curtis wanted them up in the morning. She had explained that they were going to be entering kindergarten after summer break and the private school Curtis was sending them to would take them out of the house three days a week until Christmas, and then after they would go four days a week.
It was a lot of information given to you within a brief time until she stepped in front of one door, opening it briefly to give you a brief look at the boys bathroom they shared. The bathtub and shower combo seemed to have more life and personality than their room, a few toys set in a faux wicker basket by the corner of the bathtub, and a set of matching towels hanging on the rack were synonymous with the double vanities.
A set of toothbrushes was hanging off two holders above the sink, one themed to a superhero and the other was designed with dinosaurs in mind, both giving you more of an idea of what the twins liked than their bedroom.
It was puzzling, a wonderment why there was nothing more for the boys in their bedroom. You put the thought in the back of your mind while you followed Pari down to the next door, a nanny suite that was going to be yours when you officially started the next day.
Tonight she was going to stay to make sure the twins had settled until they had gotten relatively used to the idea of having another new nanny around, and that would in turn give you time to pack some clothes before you would be on your own.
It was her deciding factor or something about you that she liked, to give you the job after the few short hours that you had been here talking with her and to her. The process of showing you around was one more indication that you were going to be given the job, one more step toward you being hired for the job that paid exceptionally well.
However, you were curious about the high turnaround, curious enough that you had almost asked Pari whether it was the twins that drove the nanny away in some kind of Hollywood feeling scheme or if it was the man you were working for that had done the job.
“It’s got everything you’ll need.” Pari directed you into the nanny suite and you had stepped through with speculation, your eyebrows furrowing as your lips had become pursed.
The nanny suite was larger than you expected and was rather captivating with clean crisp white walls, and an intricate chandelier hanging in the middle of the room.
The headboard was made of light grey material that was textured with cloth buttons that added extra detail. The bed itself was larger than the one you had in your apartment, and it was pushed against the feature wall with a nightstand on the right-hand side and a sitting chair on the other side. Across from the bed was an electric fireplace and mantle, the dark wood contrasting the white trim that ran throughout the room.
To the far left was a set of double doors that led to a small private balcony that was enclosed by a white railing. The room was designed with the same sleekness as the rest of the house, perfect to a near fault, and yet this nanny suite still had more character than the twins rooms. It was bothering you, it was getting under your skin like an itch that couldn’t have possibly been sated until you let the question be aired and given life.
“Pari, the twins room-“ You looked back at her, your eyes meeting hers and your mouth shutting closed when she had drawn in a breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose with annoyance.
The corner of her lips was pressed tightly together and the scowl on her face had told you everything you needed to know.
“I know.” Those two words told you enough. “Curtis hired some interior decorator because he didn’t give a shit about what the house looked like, he’s got enough to deal with. The nannies and housekeepers come and they see the state of this place and do everything they can to keep it this way.”
“High-turnaround-“
“Not just for nannies.” Pari drew her hand away from her face and down to her hip, glancing you over again with a far less stoic expression. “Housekeepers too.”
Your suspicions of the twin being hellions that sent the nannies off were partially right, and you couldn’t have blamed them. The twins were not allowed by the other nannies to have anything in their rooms because of the clutter, and it had made the boys double down on their mission to get rid of anyone ‘allergic to fun’.
They didn’t get to express themselves, they didn’t get to enjoy being messy like kids naturally were, or even have their favourite toys in their bedrooms to play with. It was almost as if they were being forced into this state of cleanliness that wasn’t achievable for them.
“They’re kids, they should be allowed to be kids.” You mumbled under your breath, taking another glance around the room before you and Pari stepped into the hallway again.
As the door clicked behind you, your hand settled on the doorknob while Pari made her way to the winding staircase, leaving you lagging for a few moments.
“Theo, James-“ A crash had come from the lower level and your feet carried you before you had time to think, following Pari toward the kitchen and the source of the sound.
“Sorry, aunty.” One of the twin’s bottom lips was trembling, his blue eyes watering and his chest heaving with the effort to hold in his tears.
Between the twins was a broken glass and orange juice, the mixture thankfully not hitting either of their feet. Theo, or so you thought, had huffed and gritted his teeth, almost as if he was trying to present himself as a stoic figure.
“James-“ you started to speak to the twins, first addressing the twin who wasn’t near tears.
“Theo.” Pari corrected you, taking a wide berth around the glass and juice, and stepping toward a small utility closet near the edge of the kitchen.
“It was an accident, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.” You stepped the other way, slowly grabbing hold of James’ arm, and gently leading him away from the glass. “I’m going to clean it up, don’t step in the glass or you’ll cut your feet.”
“I was thirsty.” James pulled at your sleeve, his eyes brimming with tears. “I wanted a drink.”
“I know, it’s not your fault.” You lift him from the floor and set him on the table, sitting him on the edge before you lifted his left foot and then his right, looking for any cuts. “It was an accident.”
You drew your fingers along the bottom of his feet feeling for any nicks that you couldn’t see, biting down on the inside of your cheek when he laughed through some tears and jerked his foot. After checking both feet, you lifted him from the table and carried him further away from the mess and set him down where he wouldn’t be hurt or caught in the mess.
“Do you still want something to drink?” You crouched before him, watching him as he raised his arm and wiped away his tears with his sleeve, sniffling and nodding. “Orange juice?”
“We didn’t mean to,” Theo spoke with the same defiance, the same presentable little tough guy act he was trying to put on, almost as if he was afraid you or Pari would give them trouble. “It slipped-“
“It’s okay, Theo.” You were careful to step around the rest of the glass, carefully padding around the island toward the fridge as you stared at the rows of cupboards.
“To the left of the fridge,” Pari spoke without having to look up from the floor, “orange juice is on the right side of the fridge.”
You followed her instruction, first grabbing a glass and then the juice. You set both on the counter before closing the doors and unscrewing the cap, idly listening to the sound of James and Theo’s whispers behind you while you filled their glass.
Once it was halfway full, you grabbed the glass and turned. You nearly jumped out of your skin when they appeared closer than you anticipated, squeaking in surprise at their giggles and soft laughter.
“Funny.” You held the glass out to James, watching him and Theo guzzle down the sweet mixture before they handed it back to you. “Is that better?”
“Theo, James…go put your toys away. Pizza will be here soon.” Pari sent the directive and as quickly as the boys were here, they were gone.
They scattered from the kitchen with a few excited claims that they would beat each other to the playroom, leaving you and Pari alone. You set the glass in the sink and shifted your weight from one foot to the other while silence passed between you both.
“Crustaceans?” Pari drew your attention to herself as she stepped around the island and dumped the remaining glass shards into the garbage under the sink. “You’re allergic to crustaceans?”
“Oh.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other before you cleared your throat and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t eat crustaceans but I can eat fish.”
“I don’t eat beef,” Pari relayed some personal preferences about herself just as you had, “It’s not an allergy, but a religious practice.”
“Beef?”
“I can eat chicken, lamb, and goat but not beef.” She looked you over as she spoke and then smiled, cracking a genuine and warm grin. “You’re going to do great with them. You’re exactly what they need.”
“Thank you-“
“-Curtis too.” She spoke over you while you fell silent. “He’s going to love you.”
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