#curtis everett fic

[georgiapeach30513]

If I Asked Him To, Part 1

Summary: Everyone is gone. Everything is now yours, and your responsibility. You left the ranch for two reasons. One being your toxic relationship with your mother. The other of those reasons you need. You have no idea how to deal a ranch. And he has no idea how to deal with you. You're not the girl he used to know. You're all woman. Everything your grandpa used to say you would become. He's not supposed to touch you, or even look at you. But he can't get enough.

Pairings: Curtis Everett X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual talk, TW: mentions of eating disorder, minor character death, crude talking about sex, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.1K

Series Masterlist

“Why are you cleaning?” Curtis asks.  His body settles deeper in the couch and he closes his eyes.  “If you bring a girl home, she goes straight into your room, and you take her straight back where she came from.” 

“Shut up,” Austin gags, throwing a pillow at his friend.  “My sister is coming.” 

“And?” Curtis peeks his eyes open slightly to see his friend plopping himself down on the opposite couch.  Before Austin can check to see that Curtis is a bit too interested, Curtis closes his eyes swiftly.  Austin and you are as close as siblings could be.  You going off to college changed him.  And Curtis, if he was being honest.  Hell, the whole fucking ranch changed the moment you left. 

“She won’t stay at the main house with Ma,” of course you wouldn’t.  That woman is always harping on everything you do.  You’re slouching, you’ve put on some weight, your forehead is shiny, there’s a wrinkle in your shirt, do you have to eat another bite?  Your mom was the root of your self esteem.  While Austin is the golden boy that does nothing wrong. 

“Your mom can be an ass when it comes to Red,” Curtis agrees, turning his head to the other side so his friend can’t see him.  Curtis took pity on you on more than one occasion.  Austin saw his mom tear you down, but also felt a loyalty to his mother.  Curtis would tell you that she was just a jealous bitch.  

“Why do you insist on calling her that?” his friend dramatically groans, and kicks his foot up onto the coffee table.

“She went through a red lipstick phase,” Austin looks at his friend confused.  “Are you serious?” Curtis turns back to glare at his friend, “She walked around with red lipstick all the time,” Austin rolls his eyes before standing back up. 

“Whatever.  She’s going to be here later today, and she’ll be sleeping here on the couch,” of course Austin would still make you sleep on a couch.  “And I have a date with Veronica.” 

“By date you mean that you’re bringing her here to fuck her, and then take her back home.  So you’re going to make me and Red stay outside and wait for you to finish.” 

“Yeah, or you could just hang out at the main house,” he’s doubtful that would ever happen.  Your mom would probably try to force you to stay in your princess bedroom while she force feeds you an acceptable caloric intake.  You always left her and her nagging feeling worse.  “It’s not like I’ll be with her for a long time.”

Austin starts to walk away only to stop, and pull out his phone, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.  Yeah?  Is that seriously how you greet your most favorite person in the whole world?” 

“What do you want?” he groans.  

“You’re the worst brother ever.  Listen, I need things,” you need a joint if you’re going ot have to be around your mother.

“I’m not buying your tampons,” you gasp dramatically.  You would never ask your brother to get you tampons again.  He was awful.  He got you the worst kinds, and you still had to go to the market, “What?” 

“I need some sour gummy worms, and can you buy a few Payday bars, one Zero bar, a bag of Lays Salt and Vinegar chips, don’t get the store brand, you freak.  But also make sure there’s some ramen or something there.  And if you’re feeling fancy will you buy some Little Debbie’s?” 

“Ma is not going to like that,” you scoff.  Throwing yourself back in the car seat.  Mom didn’t like anything you did.  And you need things to get you through this weekend.  He sighs, “You forgot about the Gushers, and Red Vines.” 

“No, I didn’t, I just knew you would remember those.  Some Dr. Pepper Zero, too.  I need caffeine, Austin.  NEED!” 

“Curtis, can you write this list down?” It's good to know that Curtis can still put up with Austin.  Not that he’s a bad brother, he’s just a bit full of himself.  Everyone knew that Curtis did the heavy lifting at the ranch.  “Alright, what is everything you wanted?” 

“Peanut butter and Oreos.  But not peanut butter Oreos, this is extremely specific and necessary.” 

“You literally did not say that the first time.” 

“Austin!  I am giving you a list of things I need in order to put up with her.  Fine, get some turkey jerky and Quest bars.  I don’t fucking care,” you just need a way to drown in your misery with something that tasted better than her sharp tongue and harsh words.

“God, just give me your list, and we’ll make sure that you’ve got things to get you through your horrible life of growing up with everything that you could ever want,” everything except hearing that your mom was proud of you and loved you.  Everything except self confidence in yourself.  But what did Austin know?  He was the boy and looked just like your handsome father that died while enlisted.  So of course, your mom would never be ugly to her most perfect child. 

—-

You have to see her.  You have to walk through those doors, and greet your mother.  Looking down at your body, you know she’ll point out the barely ten pounds that you’ve put on.  College was a goddamn waste of money because you look worse. 

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the door of your childhood home, and recoil into the shell of a little girl you once were.  Nothing has changed.  Not that a few months should have changed a lot, but still.  It’s like walking into a Time Machine to when your father passed away.  She never changed, and never wanted anything else around her to change.  She stayed in a bubble trying to preserve every piece of your dad.

“Ma!” You scream, already sitting on the couch like a lady.  Cross your ankles, not your legs.  Back straight.  Shoulders back and chin up.  Even though she was the one that constantly knocked you down.  “Ma!  I’m here.  You want to see me, or…?” 

“Or?” She asked bristling through the door with a bright smile.  You stand up straight, and run your hands down your front straightening out your blouse, but her smile fades looking down at your body.  “Honey, why were you sitting on the couch?  Did walking up the steps exhaust you?  Come come, greet your mother.” 

You practice trying not to roll your eyes as you walk over to her.  Having the coldest of hugs that you have ever felt when she limply wraps her arms around you, “Oh, is that a big flab I feel.” 

Your arms fall from around your mother immediately, and you disassociate.  She would make a comment the moment she touched you.  Always.  You are never going to be perfect enough for her.  She will always be the superior woman.  

“Oh, honey, I had wished the freshman fifteen wouldn’t have hit you so hard.  Well, by the looks of it the freshman thirty,” it didn’t.  And even if it did, it isn’t like you couldn’t use some extra pounds.  Living here with her strict diet left you practically malnourished.  “Don’t worry, mama’s here to get you back on track.” 

“I’m good,” you mumble, stepping away from her.  You can't see the look of disgust on her face as she eyes you up and down.  Choosing to see nothing at all. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I only want what’s best for you.  You don’t have to snarl your nose up at me.  You’re probably eating that foul stuff like ramen and chocolate.  Just overall junk.  I am here to help,” everything always starts with oh, and a nickname that is meant to make you feel inferior to her.  Still a child.  “So what are your plans while back home?” 

It no longer felt like home to you.  Part of the reason was her, “I was going to spend some time with Austin.” 

“I don’t think so,” she clips.  “He’s got that — that rough one, Curtis, living down there.  No.  No, that’s nowhere for you to be.  Your bedroom is just how you left it,” how she left it.  “You can see Austin at family dinner.  That way you don’t have to worry about the farmhand.” 

“I like ‘the farmhand’,” using your fingers to make quotes.  You preferred Curtis’ company over hers.  Stuck up bitch.  “And this isn’t negotiable.  I’m going to spend some time with my brother.” 

“Do you know what they do down there?” 

“Probably drink beer and fornicate with the townies,” she gasps.  Dramatic.  “I’m in college, I’ve heard people have sex before.” 

“I think you need to go to a different college.  I pay a lot of money, only for you to come back with a potty mouth.” 

“Potty mouth?  Ma, I didn’t say fuck,” your grin gets so wide.  It’s finally her that’s uncomfortable.  Ha!

“Dear heavens me!  You better watch your mouth.  If it isn’t your weight that was the disappointment, it’s your foul language.” 

“And there it is!” It took all of five minutes for her to admit you’re a disappointment.  It didn’t matter your size, didn’t matter your shape, you will never be the daughter she truly wants because she just didn’t want the competition. 

“What?” She shouts, and stomps her foot.  She’s so fucking toxic!  The first five pounds you gained, you cried over.  If it wasn’t for your friends that kept telling you how much better you looked, you would have dropped ten pounds to overcompensate.  It took others giving you confidence boosters to feel good in your skin.  It took you getting away to realize that your weight and size wasn’t her business.  And it damn sure didn’t make you who you were. 

“What?  You want to know what?  It’s you and your fucking judgment on my damn body,” her eyes go large, and her mouth falls open.  Appalled that you finally have a voice.  “Every day of my childhood it was always you praising Austin, while nitpicking every little fucking thing I did.  I couldn’t even sneeze right, or take a shit right.” 

“You’re a lady.  You don’t take — you don’t do that.” 

“Everybody poops, ma!  See,” you point your finger at her as you walk backwards towards the door.  Piss on her.  “I come here, and during a hug you mention a fat roll on my back.” 

“You shouldn’t have fat rolls.” 

“And you shouldn’t have been a mother,” she looks down at the floor, and for the first time in your life you feel you’ve actually said something that hurt her.  Good.  Now she knows the fucking feeling.  “I am a human.” 

“Your father coddled you.  Such a fat little child.” 

“Dad died when I was four.  Of course I was chubby and coddled,” she is so fucking dense.  You keep walking towards the door, knowing that she isn’t going to stop you.  You insulted her, and cursed in her presence.  

“You just want to break my heart, huh?” 

“And you just want to break my self worth, huh?” 

“Oh, honey, college has made you unbearable.  I’m so disappointed,” that is nothing new.

“Yeah, well, I’m so walking to Austin’s.  You know, I’ve got back fat, I could use the extra steps,” and with that you spin on your heels leaving your mother to her shrine of things that once were.  You barely knew your father, so his absence never hit you like it did Austin.  But her need to control situations trickled down onto you.  

Austin reminds her too much of your dad for her to ever criticize him.  While you are unfortunately a spitting image of her.  She couldn’t control her own weight gain, smoking, drinking, pill popping, so she controlled yours instead.  Fucking hypocrite.  

You didn’t know how much you needed to get out of this house, until the emotional weight she placed on your chest started to dissipate.  There’s a reason you didn’t come home at Christmas.  You needed that time away.  You needed to grow your own confidence, and more into your own person.  A person she clearly didn’t approve of. 

And yet Austin could drink and fuck however many women he wanted, while you are to remain virginal, pure, and lady like.  Only drink when no one is watching.  Smoke instead of eat.  Pop pills when you can’t sleep.  Your mother had unresolved trauma from your dad’s untimely death, but it wasn’t your fault he was dead.  It wasn’t your fault that your mom pretended that nothing was wrong and hid everything.  And yet she still treated you as if you are the root source of all her misery.  

It’s not your fault that she was the beauty queen and didn’t know how to hold onto her youth.  Living vicariously through you, and you didn’t want to be that girl.  You aren’t sure what you wanted.  But it wasn’t to be like her.  Living in bitterness at how unfair the world is because someone died.

You make sure to kick up dirt as you walk to Austin’s.  Screaming and growling under your breath as you go.  She’s such a fucking bitch.  You shouldn’t have even stepped foot in that house.  It just brought up all those memories of counting calories at twelve years old.  Psychopath.  

“God, I hate her!” You scream to no one but the critters that lurk around.  You hope that vile woman sees you stomping down the pathway.  “I can’t do anything right.  I probably can’t even say my own fucking name right!  Well fuck her!” 

“Yeah, fuck her, Red,” you can’t even look at him right now.  “Who are you fucking?” 

“None of your goddamn business!” 

He clicks his tongue at you, and you glare back, “You’re seriously going to let some bitch make you feel this way?” 

“What do you know, you roughneck?” You hate yourself for falling into your mom’s footsteps to cut him down.  

“Baby, my neck isn’t rough, it’s my hands,” you stop stomping, and slowly crane your neck up to look at him on the back of a beautiful brown horse.  “Did that get your attention?” 

“Did you just call me baby?” Curtis shrugs his shoulders.  Giving the horse a little tap with his feet he sets off to a slow trot.  “I’m not staying at the main house.” 

“Didn’t think you would.” 

“And all those foods I told Austin to get, I’m not eating.” 

“More for me then.” 

“And I’m not going to go out drinking with you guys.  Beer has too many calories,” but you could use a beer.  A whole entire case of beer, and let them watch you.  Let them see you drown in your sorrows.

“Such a shame when there’s light beer.  Don’t roll your eyes at me,” you didn’t.  “Yeah, I caught you rolling your eyes, Red.  Fuck her,” you stop walking, and stare at nothing.  Just looking off into the distance.  You shouldn’t have come back. 

“Fuck her, and her controlling ways.  She doesn’t deserve you for a daughter.” 

“Jealous women shouldn’t have daughters,” you knew from a young age that your mother was in fact jealous of you.  You were the one that had your father’s attention.  You were the one gifted with youth.  You were the one that became her own father’s pride and joy.

“You’re probably right,” you won’t cry.  You won’t shed a single tear for the words she said to you.  You won’t sit and obsess over how much work it’ll be to shed the ten pounds you gained.  “You look good, Red.” 

“You don’t have to tell me something you think I want to hear.” 

“I’m telling you that because it’s true,” looking up at Curtis, you squint your eyes into the setting son.  “I don’t lie because I have no reason to.  You could use a few more pounds on you, or you can stay that size.  You look good.  And you know you’re beautiful.” 

“No, I don’t,” you aren’t fishing for compliments.  There’s seriously not a moment where you felt good enough.  You were plain.  Nothing special.  And now with ten extra pounds on you.  The smiles you left behind at school are squashed in a few minutes with your mom.  Tonight you’ll probably obsess about the extra weight you’ve put on.  Staring at yourself in the mirror with so much self loathing.  

“Well, you are.  Come on,” he holds a hand down to you, and you shake your head no.  “Come on, ride bitch with me, and we’ll make it to the house quicker.” 

“I could use the extra steps.” 

“And you could use a giant cock in your mouth for talking like that,” you gasp, looking up at him.  “Good lord, Red, you’re not a baby anymore.  You’re nineteen fucking years old.  I can talk to you any damn way I please.  So if you don’t stop with the self deprecation, I’ll give you a cock in your mouth to shut you up.” 

“Your cock?” you tease, lifting up a brow.  

“If it means you’ll quit listening to her, then yeah.  Whatever it takes,” there’s an edge in his tone, and you know he means it.  Austin has always been in his own shit, but Curtis is one of the ones that was always in your corner.

“You’d do just about anything I asked you to, huh?” Curtis pauses to look out at the mountains, nodding his head, and wiggling his fingers.  Obliging, you grab his hand to pull you up on the horse, “Are you not going to answer me?” 

“Nah, it’d probably get me in trouble with your brother,” like Austin cared.  “And I feel you’d only use me today to get back at your mother since she considers me below your standards.  My breeding is all wrong for you.” 

“She’s wrong, you know?” You don’t hesitate to lean forward and wrap your arms around him.  A bit too low for strangers.  It’s almost intimate where your hands settle just below his belt buckle.  And then you lean forward, and rest your chin on his shoulder.  

“You know she’s wrong about me, but not about yourself?” he quips, peeking backwards at you.  He likes you mounted behind him.  Everyone forgot about you in that house.  Austin did.  Your mom most certainly did.  The only person who spent any time on you was the old man, and he was getting closer and closer to death’s door.  

“It’s easier to see when she’s wrong about other people than myself.  It’s not my favorite quality about me,” it’s a fact you’ve always known.  You can see the best in others, but you always see the worst in yourself.  You see yourself through her eyes. 

“It’s not your worst though.” 

“And what is my worst quality, Curtis?  Hmm?” You goad, and use your fingers to tickle his belly.  “Go on.  What’s the worst.” 

“Your stinky ass feet.” 

“My feet do not stink!” 

“And your morning breath isn’t something I’m fond of.” 

“You have never smelled my morning breath!” 

“And my god, those stinking farts are the worst.” 

“Ladies don’t fart,” you giggle at saying the line your mom has always said to you.  

“And I don’t see any ladies around here,” he actually laughs right back at you.  “Smells about as bad as cow manure,” you’re not going to be able to win with him.  But you’re thankful to him for making you think of anything else besides the weight you’ve put on, and all the ways that you’re just wrong.  

“Well, I can’t ever tell the difference between you and the horses.  You smell just like them, farmhand.” 

“It’s okay, neither can I,” the two of you settle into a comfortable silence.  If it wasn’t for your mom, you’d like coming back.  There’s nothing like Montana.  No place will ever be as beautiful as here.  “So are you seeing anyone?” he breaks the silence, peeking back at you with a boyish smirk.

“Not really.” 

“I’m not sure I know what that means.” 

“Are you seeing anyone?” 

“Not really,” he responds.  “Just fucking a few.” 

“So you do get it,” clicking his tongue, he kicks at the horse, and sets off at a running pace.  “Changing the subject?” 

“Don’t want to think about you fucking a few men.” 

“Didn’t say they were men,” Curtis actually growls at your response, and speeds up.  “So it’s okay for you to be fucking a few townies, but not me?” 

“You want to fuck a townie?” Curtis’ voice reminds you of hot summers checking out the boy next door.  Sin on feet. 

“Not in particular,” seeing Austin and his cabin come into view, you hold on tighter.  With him not slowing down, he wasn’t stopping.  He just needs a few more minutes of your time.  A little bit longer with you holding onto him with your chin resting on his shoulder.  So close that he can feel your warm breath.  

“So you go off to college and suddenly we’re not good enough for you?” 

“You’re not a townie,” you want to giggle.  Is he seriously getting upset about thinking you didn’t want to fuck him.  Who didn’t want to fuck Curtis?  People would be stupid not to want to.  Tall, lean but with the perfect amount of ranch grown muscles, sparkling blue eyes, an awesome smile, and he is actually funny. 

“So you’re saying you’d fuck me?” 

“I’m saying I’ve never been given the chance.” 

“Too young, Red.” 

“Not anymore,” growling again, Curtis pulls on the reins, and stops the horse too abruptly.  Passed the house enough for you to know this wasn’t his intended location.  “What?” 

“You can’t fucking say things like that.” 

“Why?” 

“You know exactly why,” his head motions for you to get off, but you stay seated.  Keeping your hands exactly where they were.  “Go on, get.” 

“I’m not a fucking mangy dog.” 

“No, you’re a pure bred fucking poodle with flea treatment.  Get off the damn horse.” 

“No,” hot and cold this man.

“Why?” 

“We are having a damn conversation.” 

“No, you’re teasing me with a carrot that I can’t eat.  Dangling right in front of my head, knowing I won’t bite it.  My god, Red.” 

“I don’t even have a fucking carrot, you asshole.” 

“Oh yeah?” He clicks his tongue and taps the horse.  Putting him at a slow pace, but still going away from the cabin.  “And what do you have?” 

“A juicy sweet papaya.” 

“Fuck me,” he groans.  “You know your brother lives here?” 

“You know I truly don’t care?” And you didn’t.  You and Curtis always bantered.  And he was usually the one that would save the day in your life.  He was put on a pedestal when you were a young girl, and he couldn’t even drive.  

And then when you finally grew up enough to drink too much in high school, and Austin would be too drunk and too deep into some slut that he couldn’t pick your drunk self up; Curtis would.  

You’re not sure when things switched to a forbidden territory, but it did.  Something that you and Curtis never acted upon.  Not that if he served himself up for you that you wouldn’t partake.  You would.  Over and over again.  But you also like to argue with him.  It keeps things fresh.  

“You’ll be the death of me one day, Red.” 

“I hope not.  You’re too pretty to die.” 

“Don’t call me pretty,” this man is every bit pretty, and he knows it.

“So you can call me beautiful, but I can’t call you pretty?” 

“Call me sexy.  Or handsome.  Or the best looking man you’ve ever seen.  Just don’t call me pretty.” 

He’s so ridiculous.  “Alright.  Whatever you say, pretty boy.” 

“Me thinks that the woman doesn’t follow directions anymore!  You hear that Mason!  Your daughter finally doesn’t follow orders!” He’s so stupid.  “Just to let you know, I like you better when you don’t follow orders, Red.” 

“I’m still working on it,” and you may always be working on it.  Intricacies of the mind when it comes to your mother are hardwired in your brain.  You will always have her voice telling you just how you’re not perfect on a regular basis.  But you’re getting there.  Slowly, but surely. 

——

“Here,” Curtis hands you a beer with the top already popped before he sits into one of the seats surrounding the fire pit.  “Sorry,” his head leans towards the cabin, and you bend to turn the music up louder.  Certain sounds you aren’t meant to hear.

“How often does he do that?” 

“It’s not always nightly,” Curtis snorts.  Sometimes it was him who brought a woman home.  “But most nights, yeah.” 

“The same one?” 

“Rarely.  They see him as rich and hot.  It’s easy to get women.  They just don’t realize that Austin does not believe in love, and has no intentions of settling down,” what a disappointment to your mother.  Austin was supposed to carry on the family name.  Find him a beauty queen to knock up, so your mother could poison them. 

“What about you?” 

Curtis smirks as he takes a swig of his own beer, “Yeah, I might settle down.  Might have kids.  But I don’t have to.  Some days I don’t even want to.  But then again, I’ve never met someone I could see myself being worth it.” 

“Worth it?” 

“Yeah, you don’t have to act like you don’t know that my dad was a deadbeat drunk or that my mom was a crack whore,” you give him a regretful look before looking into the fire.  “It’s fine.  If I didn’t have shitty parents I wouldn’t have ended up in your lovely presence,” the old man had taken him in when he was still a boy.  Cheap labor was hard to find.  Now he was above Austin in skill and pay.  But the old man never talked about that to Austin. 

“We all have our fucked up families.  Some of us just have them closer to home.  And don’t fucking apologize.  You didn’t do shit,” he just didn’t want pity from anyone, definitely not from you.  “Fuck.” 

“What?” You dare to look over towards him.  You hope it’s just the good buzz you’re getting, but he looks really good.  Insanely good, “Are you proposing you want to fuck?” 

“Hell no,” ouch.  That stung a bit.  A lot.  “I wouldn’t fuck you for a million dollars.” 

“Is that a fact?” 

“That’s a fact,” he holds up another opened beer bottle for you.  “Drink,” you don’t just drink, you chug.  Swallowing every bit of the beer, and then extend your hand out for another.  “No, you deserve more than to be fucked,” he adds in.  He hands you another beer while his eyes roam over your form.

“And what is it I deserve, farmhand.” 

“You deserve someone to worship you.  To kiss up and down your body.  You deserve someone burying themselves between your legs, and making you come a thirty fucking times before they ever enter into that tight — pretty pussy.” 

You burst out in laughter.  Unable to hold in the giggles that won’t stop.  “First off, you know nothing about my pussy.  Cause if you did, you would know that thirty orgasms sound like torture.” 

“You’d like it,” there’s a darkness in his eyes as he peeks towards you.  

“Passing out from pleasure?  You think I’d like that?” 

“I know you’d like it.  You need someone to shut your fucked up brain up,” you didn’t know if you should feel offended or not.  That kinda hurt.  No, it stung.  “Don’t start, Red.  We’re both fucked up because of our parents.  But think about it; imagine that you have someone finger fucking you, and sucking your pretty little clit until all the brain noises stop in your head.  No, it’s not permanent, but it’s enough for you to be in the moment with me — him.  It’ll allow you to float, and actually enjoy sex.” 

“I enjoy sex just fine.” 

“Doubtful,” his voice is without emotion, and he glares into the fire.

“Wanna see?” You slink off your chair, and start crawling on the ground towards him.  “You want me to show you just how much I enjoy sex?” 

You may be tipsy.  Hell, you may be completely drunk.  But you know that he’s just as horny as you are.  You see the way that he’s gripping his chair.  The knuckles on his hand are ghostly white with the amount of pressure.  He gulps over and over again before lifting the bottle to his mouth, and shaking his head no. 

“No, I don’t need to see.  Because you just want to pleasure someone.” 

“Are you calling me a slut?” 

“If the shoe fits,” his grip on the chair never lessens as you kneel before him.  He doesn’t fight you when you spread his legs apart and waddle on your knees closer.  “What are you going to do, Red?  You going to undo my jeans, and suck my cock?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

“What do you want to do?  Fuck me out here by the fire while your brother is pounding some bitch’s head into the headboard?” Sobering thought.  “You’re too fucking young, and too fucking needy right now.” 

“Thanks, asshole.  Tell your cock you don’t want me,” your eyes shift to look at the uncomfortable bulge in his jeans. 

“Tell your cunt to dry up.  I can’t help it that you’re a needy little slut, and my dick is a whore.” 

“You’re a dick,” whining as you back away, and stand up.  Wrapping your arms around your waist.  You didn’t know where to go.  Stand here in front of him, judging you and calling you a slut.  Or walk inside and hear your brother moaning and groaning.  The main house wasn’t an option. 

“And tomorrow when you wake up, and realize you didn’t fuck your brother’s best friend, you’ll thank me.” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to be so fucking mean,” of all the ways he could have said that, he didn’t have to call you a needy slut.

“Stop whining,” he says, standing up in front of you.  He holds his arms out wide, beckoning you closer, and you shake your head no.  “Come on.  Come and hug me.” 

“Fuck you!” 

“No, we’re not going to fuck me.  Did you miss that conversation.” 

“You called me a needy slut.” 

“You are.” 

“Asshole!” 

Rolling his eyes, he doesn’t wait for you to give him permission before his arms circle around you, and he starts swaying your body to the music.  “First, I’m not fucking you while you’re drunk.  And I shouldn’t even be thinking about fucking you at all.  You probably won’t even remember this conversation, but your sore pussy would, and then I’d feel bad.  And yeah, you’re a needy slut because you have daddy and mommy issues with an added bonus of having low self esteem, and needing to prove to your mom that you’re worthy of a man’s attention regardless of your size.” 

“Shut up,” he’s still an asshole.  Everything he said is too much for your brain in its current state to process.  You’re vulnerable.  You’re not needy.  “I hate you.” 

“Yeah, I hate you, too,” he didn’t, and couldn’t.  But he’s getting too comfortable with your more vulgar speech.  You’re much different than the timid eighteen year old that left for college.  “You know me not taking advantage of you is for your own good.” 

“How do you know I wouldn't fuck you sober?” 

“Would you?” You shrug, terrified to tell him the truth.  “You deserve a hell of a lot more than I could ever give you, Red.  You deserve the life that your mom wants for you,” but you didn’t want that life.  “You deserve to live a life where you don’t have to work.  One where you get spoiled.” 

“You think that’s all I want from life?  That sounds boring as fuck.” 

“Beats a life of debt or living paycheck to paycheck,” like he even did that.  “I’m just saying, girls like you don’t marry guys like me.” 

“Who said anything about marriage,” you lean back, and tilt your head back.  Gazing up at the man that is confusing the absolute shit out of your mind.  He gives and then takes back.  Curtis’ eyes try to focus on yours.  He’s feeling just as tipsy as you are.   

“What are you talking about?” 

“I never said anything about marrying you,” he snorts, and his mouth lifts in a crooked smile.  “What about a kiss?” 

“Just one little kiss to get your crush on me out of your system?” He really is an asshole.  A pussy tease.

“One little kiss to get your crush on me out of your system,” Curtis gulps, and his eyes bounce from your eyes to your lips.  “You want to deny that you were watching my ass at dinner?” 

“Yeah, I saw it long enough to know you need a little more meat on your bones.” 

“While your cock is still hard, could you maybe not talk about bones?” 

“Red — what do you want from me?” 

“A kiss.  Just one teeny tiny little ki…” Curtis leans forward, and slots his mouth against yours.  The bitter taste of the hoppy beer sets your body on fire.  Greedily you pull him closer to you, and his tongue pries at your own mouth.  You part your lips, and grant him access.  Reveling in the feeling of him melting into you.  

He backs up to the chair he was in, pulling you on top of his body.  His hands go under your shirt, only to go back down, and sink below the waist of your jeans.  Pulling you even closer to him, while squeezing your ass.  He groans into you when you roll your hips over him.  You just can’t help it.  Your body needs friction.  

This is so much more than a little kiss.  This is the weirdest, most exciting moment.  What the fuck is going on?  You’re drunk, he’s drunk.  Your brother is having sex in the house, and you’re grinding on Curtis’ lap.  All the words he said earlier tonight just might be true.  Maybe just a little bit true.  

You pop up off his mouth, and fall back onto the ground.  Head flying back with the fall, and you hit your head on the edge of the stone fire pit.  Pain sears your head, and you hold onto it tightly, clenching your eyes shut.  

“Goddamn.  What the fuck are you two doing out here?” Austin asks as he laughs with his lady of the evening.  “Curtis, you’re supposed to take care of the sloppy drunk, not let her get a concussion.” 

“She’s just a lot to handle,” he says, wiping around his mouth.  God, your head is lighting up in blinding pain.  “You heading back to town?” 

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes, motioning towards the girl.  Austin never wanted to be a widow like his mom.  His solution? Don’t fall in love.  Just have lots of sex.  “Don’t wait up for me.  But make sure that she’s okay.” 

Austin gives a quick head wave, while you remove your hand from your head and open your eyes.  The world spins around you, and you start to fall backwards towards the ground, but Curtis pulls at your arms, catching you before the ground does.  “No, you don’t.  Come on, Cinderella, it’s nearly midnight.” 

“The ground is spinning,” you went from tipsy to fucking gone.  The ground was going between spinning and tilting at an unsafe angle.  How the hell is he going to carry you when the world is at an uneven angle.  “You’re going to drop me into the hole.” 

“There is no hole,” he laughs as he carries you up the stairs.  “You’re just a lot drunker than I thought.  Then you go on and hit your head, that definitely didn’t help.” 

“You have a cute ass.  Even if it’s upside down,” Curtis laughs even harder.  “Why are you upside down?” 

“Sweetheart, it’s you that’s upside down.  And in hindsight, I shouldn’t have carried you on my shoulder,” he drops you onto the bed, and you stare up at the ceiling with your eyes practically gouging out of your head.  “What are you looking at?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“And this is why we didn’t fuck.” 

“No,” what did he say?  Suck?  Fuck?  Buck?  Tuck?  Your head flops to the side way too quickly, and you cling to your stomach groaning.

“Don’t throw up in my bed.” 

“Your bed?  Are you going to take advantage of me?” 

“No,” is his only answer as he pulls the covers over you.  Curtis walks to the other side of the bed, and crawls in on top of the covers.  “Go to sleep.  I think.  Are you in pain?” 

“You’re really pretty,” you twist your body to the side, and look up at him.  “Like really pretty.” 

“You, too,” what?  You, too.  You two.  U2.  “Beautiful, I mean.” 

“You’re not mean,” Curtis snorts, rolling his eyes.  

“I can’t wait to tease you about this tomorrow.” 

“Shh, no talkie.  Just horizontal tango,” if it wasn’t for your eyes that start to close, he’d argue back.  You probably wouldn’t even remember that kiss.  That fucking kiss.  The best fucking kiss he’s ever had in his damn life.  The kiss from someone he shouldn’t want, and couldn’t have.  

Thankfully it was him.  You were too easy tonight.  Had he wanted to, he could have had you in his bed an hour ago.  But it was good to see you getting to be you.  Fuck his fucking life.  You’d be gone in a few days, and he couldn’t have you anyways.  Austin would never forgive him.  He would never forgive himself.  You deserved better than some calloused hand asshole with no filter.  

You deserved the world.

——

You sigh as you sit in your car at the gates of Sterling Valley Ranch.  It has been years since you’ve been here.  The last time you drove through these gates your mom, your brother, and your grandfather were alive.  

That last drunken night here was the last time that you saw Austin.  On the way back to the ranch, he was hit by a drunk driver.  A few months later your mother, grief stricken, ended her life.  She couldn’t bear to live in a world without your father or brother.  Who gave a flying fuck about you anyways? 

The old man.  Your grandfather begged for you to come home after your mother passed, but you couldn’t.  Years later, it was the liver disease that got him.  And now there’s you standing at the bronze gates of Sterling Valley Ranch.  More like the cursed family ranch.  

This ranch was worth more sold.  Let it be someone else’s problem.  There is nothing left for you here.  Not one damn thing.  In all your twenty-six years did this fucking hole mean anything to you.  

You hate it here.  Everything that it represents.  The worst part of your life was here.  Driving down the road slowly, you sniffle, and wipe away the annoying tears that fall down your cheeks.  Nothing but bad memories remain.  Nothing at all is here for you.  

You see Austin’s cabin come into view, and without thinking keep looking.  You keep your eyes on the haunted cabin right until you run into a fucking tree.  It isn’t hard enough to make the airbags deploy, but it’s hard enough for you to collapse on the steering wheel, and let your emotions pour out of your body.  

Covering your eyes, and trying to make every memory leave your body with your tears.  Every hard memory.  Every judging memory.  Every humiliating memory, especially the ones with him.  

“Goddamn,” Curtis says, as he slings your door open.  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Red.  Hey,” he says your real name, and you only cry harder.  Nobody ever called you Red, because nobody even noticed that your senior year of high school you had a red lip phase.  

“Sweetheart, let's get you out of this car.” 

“Why are you still here?” You cry, letting him help you out of the SUV.  

“This is my home.” 

“I hate it.” 

“Why?” 

“What’s there to love?” The fresh air and smells was another thing.  Burn it all to the ground.  

“I get it.” 

“No, you don’t.  I hate it here.  Nothing good happened.” 

“Nothing?” 

You look up at him, and start walking faster to get away, “Not a damn good thing happened here.  It’s why I’m selling.” 

“You can’t.” 

“Yes, the fuck, I can,” you spin around, and poke a finger at his chest.  “I can do whatever the hell I want to.  I can eat all the fucking chocolate bars in my mother’s bedroom.  I can fuck some townie on the dining room table.  And after I defile every part of that goddamn house, I’m fucking selling it all.  So you can either buy it, or you can find another place to live.” 

“You can’t sell it, and clearly you didn’t read the fucking will,” gritting your teeth, you glare up at him.  “Welcome home, partner,” he says, marching away from you.  “Hope you can find a car to get you back to town to find some loser townie to fuck.” 

“What do you mean, partner?” 

“You’re not the sole owner of the ranch, Red,” what the hell does that even mean.  “Yeah, the old man trusted me to keep this place as a family owned working ranch.  You can’t sell this place, unless I want to.  And I don’t want to fucking sale,” that wasn’t even the entire truth.  But you’re too mad to even reason with him.  You’re just a bitter bitch.  Just like your mother.

“What does that mean?” You shout up at him, and he turns around so fast that you take a step back.  “Still an asshole, I see.” 

“And you’re still a fucking bitch.  We both own this land.  Have fun, Red.  Be the needy slut we both know that you are.” 

“Whore!” 

“Bitch!” 

“Asshole!” 

“Shut up!” He doesn’t know where you went all wrong.  He can probably guess a few things.  But becoming this bitter and angry isn’t how he saw your life unfolding.  A bitter, curvy, and sexy as fuck bitch, but still a bitch nonetheless.  You didn’t shy away from your heavier weight anymore.  You put it all out on display.  

Fuck his life.

“Don't tell me what to do!” you add for good measure, and you try not to stare at the thick hard lines of Curtis’ ass as he walks away from you.  Fuck him.  And fuck everyone else because you didn’t give a fuck!

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @rnurse-kole @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @distractingbeth @kmm-fluv @retroqt @buckybarnesisdaddy

@munjack @shoegal73 @rogersbarber @looking1016 @patzammit

@fenixstar 

[imyourbratzdoll]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[navybrat817]

Hardpack

Pairing: Motocross!Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Summary: Curtis isn't in a good mood and takes it out on you.

Word Count: Over 2.5k

Warnings: Eventual enemies(ish) to lovers, tension, swearing, nicknames, light angst (sick parent), Curtis doesn't want to admit he wants you; he's a bit of an asshole (and he's a warning, okay?), and both of you are moody.

A/N: More Rusty and Princess! Maybe I can start a Motocross Monday sort of thing? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

Curtis needed a drink after the shift he had. He tried not to drink much during the week and definitely not when he had practice or a race, but today was a domino effect of everything that could go wrong going wrong. It was like that some days. Shitty day or not, he was still going to wish his boss a good night.

Seeing you sitting in your dad’s chair when he went into the office, he sneered and decided he might have to have a double when he got home. How was it that you were still so clean and pristine after walking through a salvage yard? Why did you look so beautiful?

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, crossing his arms when he stopped in front of the desk.

You didn't spare him a glance as your fingers flew across the keyboard, not at all phased by his intimidating stance or voice. “Rusty, always a pleasure.”

He had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping. You weren’t the cause of his mood, but you loved pushing his buttons. To be fair, he pushed yours, too. “You didn't answer my question.”

“Didn’t realize I had to answer to you,” you said, pausing to take a sip of water. “But if you must know, my dad had to leave early again, so I’m helping him out.”

“You?” he asked.

“Yep. Me,” you smiled sweetly. He wasn't sure why he was surprised. You weren't an employee, but you knew the system thanks to your dad, and it wasn't the first time you stepped in to assist. “Don't worry. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Good,” he muttered, catching a flicker of hurt in your eyes before you went back to typing. He tried not to stare when you bit one side of your lip. Did you realize you did that when you were concentrating extra hard? Why did he know that? “If he needed help, why didn’t he just ask me?”

Not that the rest of the guys weren’t hard workers, but everyone knew Curtis ran the show when your dad wasn’t around. The funny thing was he hadn’t planned to be a leader, but he had a knack for it and your dad taught him a lot. You on the other hand had your own career that didn’t involve the salvage yard, so he didn’t understand why you were there. Sure, you knew the system and you were incredibly smart, but he was computer savvy when he wanted to be.

You sighed and stopped typing again. “Maybe because you had your own work to do and we didn’t want to add more to your plate.”

“We?” he growled. “Just like you don’t answer to me, I don’t answer you. I answer to your dad.”

You shrugged. “Then you can talk to my dad tomorrow.”

“I will, and I’ll remind him that I can handle the extra work, even if it’s desk work.” Curtis took his hat off and scratched the back of his head. He swore you were checking him out, but your gaze went back to the screen when he took a seat in the chair. It was fine. He didn't want you checking him out.

Yes, I do.

“I don’t mind helping,” you said.

Curtis scoffed. “You don’t belong here. Minus your dad, no one asked you to be here.”

The flash of fire in your eyes didn’t scare him, but he had to shift in his chair since it turned him on a little. “What the hell is your problem? Seriously?”

“You are my problem.” He leaned across the desk and made sure you were looking him in the eye when he said, “And you don’t belong here because you’re a fucking spoiled stuck-up brat, Princess.”

Silence filled the air, minus your sharp intake of breath. The words tasted extra bitter on his tongue as he sat back in his seat. He should’ve gotten up and walked away instead of snapping at you. It didn’t matter that he was in a bad mood. You were the boss’s daughter and speaking to you like that could have consequences. Not to mention, you hadn’t exactly deserved that.

Of all of your reactions, he didn’t expect to hear a quiet laugh. “Of course, that’s what you think when you look at me, Rusty, because you know everything, don't you? I must be spoiled and stuck-up since I’m not covered in dirt and grime like you.” He gritted his teeth when you pointed at him. He bet you never got a spec of dirt under your manicured nails, and he wondered what they’d feel like digging into his back. “Excuse me for taking a bit of pride in my appearance.”

“I wasn't-”

“Or maybe you think I'm spoiled and stuck up because your job involves physical labor and mine doesn't,” you continued, typing so hard and fast he was shocked sparks didn't fly from your fingertips. “I take pride in everything I do because my dad taught me the value of hard work, you judgmental asshole.”

Curtis opened his mouth and shut it when you leveled him with a glare, making him think about his talk with Daisy after he met you. He had judged you and she was quick to defend you, trying to make him see that maybe you weren’t spoiled or stuck up just because you dressed nicely. But he saw how women who dressed like you looked at him after a shift, like he was beneath them. It was easy to lump you into the same category as them when that wasn’t really fair.

You didn’t work with your hands, but you were still a hard worker according to your dad and Curtis had witnessed it, too. He witnessed your kindness as well. You never demanded praise or thanks when you brought food for everyone or when you checked in on the crew, and you never made it feel like it was charity. Even now, helping your dad, you weren’t acting like a martyr. Had he not gone into the office, he likely wouldn’t have even known you were there.

And while you liked to tease him you never once acted like you were better than him.

He really was a judgmental asshole, and Daisy would tear him a new one if she knew what he said to you. Not that he’d blame her. He wanted to kick his own ass for it.

“Sorry,” he said above a whisper.

“Mmhmm. Sure you are.” You didn't sound happy and it made him feel worse. “There. All done. I’m out of your buzzed hair now.”

“Wait.” Curtis stood up when you did and moved to block your path. He didn't want you to leave angry with him.

You didn't hide your irritation when you asked, “Why the hell should I?”

He almost took a step back, half expecting you to knee him in the crotch so you could go. “It’s not like your dad to take off and not let the crew know,” he mused when he should’ve said he was sorry again.

You avoided his gaze when you put your phone in your bag, some of the anger leaving your body. “He was running late for a doctor’s appointment,” you said easily, but there was a hint of something in your voice that concerned him.

“He had another appointment?” he asked. Your dad had just gone to the doctor recently and he was the pillar of good health from what he knew, but looks could be deceiving. You were living breathing proof of that. “Is he okay?”

This time, you hesitated. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

Curtis’s heart seized in his chest, remembering the day he saw you leaving with tears in your eyes. Was it because of your dad? And here he was giving you shit when you had to be worried. Jesus, he really would have to kick his own ass later. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, taking a step forward.

He wasn’t sure if he’d consider himself to be a comforting sort of man, but seeing the worry in your eyes had a soft side itching to get out. Not that you’d accept his comfort after what he said. He probably fucked up any chance of anything with you after he ran his mouth.

“You can do two things, actually,” you replied, taking a deep breath. “First thing is a favor.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Princess needs something from me?”

You rolled your eyes, and he was happy to see some of your spark back. “My dad's birthday is coming up, and I thought it would be nice if you and some of the riders came out to help him celebrate,” you explained. Your dad stopped racing years ago, but the guys all knew and respected him. “I was hoping you could pass the details along to the others.”

“Can't do it yourself?” he asked.

“I don't have their phone numbers or social media accounts, but I’m sure you do. And it’ll make up for you being an asshole if you can just pass along the details.”

He sighed. You had a valid reason for asking him, and he sensed a couple of the guys would tease him because they’d know he did this for you. “Listen, I don't-”

“Please, Curtis,” you said softly, all of the hostility between you gone. You didn't say Rusty or any other nickname. You said his name. Fuck, he loved hearing you say his name. Loved hearing you beg.

No, now wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Fine,” he relented. There was no reason not to. It was for your dad and for you. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “What condition?”

He smirked and motioned for you to follow him outside, your perfume filling his senses as you did so. You stood a foot away while he took a glove off and swiped his finger in the dirt. “If you let me get a little dirt on you,” he began, holding up his finger for you to see as he moved closer. “I’ll pass the info along.”

You went rigid, but didn’t back away. “You are not getting dirt on this blouse.”

“Not your blouse,” he assured you, not wanting to deal with the hassle of paying to have it cleaned or replaced. Part of him though wanted to get your clothes dirty. And you.

“Then what…” Your breath hitched when he stared into your eyes and brushed his finger along the swell of your cheek. Your skin felt so soft under his rough touch. And of course you looked gorgeous with a smudge of dirt on you. You were so fucking beautiful it hurt.

“Dirt looks good on you, Princess,” he said gruffly, backing away before he did something stupid like kissing you. There was undeniable tension though. He couldn’t be the only one who felt it.

Holding your head high, you didn’t make any attempt to wipe the dirt away or smack him. It impressed him. “Yeah. You got me dirty,” you said, a sultry note in your tone. It was good to know he affected you, and he wished he could get you really dirty. “So, you’ll pass the information along?”

“I’ll need your number so you can text me the details. Once you do, I’ll send it,” he said. With your number, maybe he could talk about more than just the party with you and convince you to go to a race.

“What’s your number?” you asked, not passing your phone over when you took it out of the bag. That was fair since he had dirt on his hand.

Once he gave you his number, you quickly typed something out and hit send. His phone vibrated a moment later. “There.”

“I’ll send it,” he promised. He'd have to tell Daisy about it, too. Maybe she could go with Steve. “You bringing anyone to this party?” he asked, though it wasn’t any of his business.

“If you’re asking if I’m bringing a date to a party I’m throwing for my dad, no, I’m not,” you replied. He was glad to hear that. “Do you plan to?” you asked casually.

If he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought you were jealous at the idea of him showing up with a date. He wasn’t interested in anyone else. Not since you showed up. “No,” he answered.

You exhaled. “I should get going,” you said after a moment.

“Hang on.” He blocked your path like he had in the office. “What was the second thing you wanted me to do?”

“Oh. Yeah. Just keep my dad in your thoughts, okay? And please don’t mention anything to any of the guys since we don’t really know what's going on yet,” you said, a bit of shine in your eyes. He wanted to pull you into a hug and assure you that he’d be just fine, but he also didn’t want to give you false hope if something turned out to be wrong.

“That’s three things you’re asking of me, Princess,” he joked, but he did hope your dad was okay. He was a good man. “I won't say a word.”

“Then I guess I owe you one, Rusty. Thank you.” You tried to walk away again and narrowed your eyes when he once again stepped in front of you. “Okay, what the hell? Why won’t you let me leave? Weren’t you the one who said I don't belong here?”

Curtis sighed. He should’ve sensed that you were rightfully still upset. “About that… I was in a bad mood and I shouldn’t have said that.”

You scoffed. “Then let me make your mood better by leaving so you don’t run your mouth again and I don't smack you.”

“No, I just…” Why was he screwing up so badly? “You’re not a stuck-up spoiled brat, okay? And I don’t have a problem with you.”

You were fighting a smile. “You don’t?”

“No, I don’t,” he replied, his shoulders slumping as he admitted it to himself, too. “I’m sorry.”

There was more he wanted to say, but now wasn't the time.

Your gaze softened and a smile tugged at your lips. “You already apologized. It was a mumbled half assed apology, but still an apology.” Your fingers brushed his arm when you went around him, making electricity crackle through his veins. “And I accept it.”

His happiness was short-lived when you walked on. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to say I’m not a judgmental asshole?”

“But you are kind of a judgmental asshole. It’s part of your charm.” You gave him a full-blown smile when you looked over his shoulder and it was enough to take his breath away. Enough to drive him crazy. “See you at the party?”

“Yeah,” he smiled back, his bad mood almost completely gone. “I’ll see you there.”

And if he had his way, he’d see you much sooner than that.

Oh, the sex will be amazing once they get there. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist

[lilacevans]

𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘… 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜?

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 ༊*·˚ | take a peak here! •°. *࿐

✧* meet the brothers | meet the uncles | check out the playlist *✧

the concept *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set one - pete finds out

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set two - ari meets with his uncle

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set three - the boys are arguing, again

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set four - anywhere you want | pete brenner

meet the family *✧ ༊*·˚

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬: 𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 | 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 | 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄 | 𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃

*updated daily!

the introduction *✧ ༊*·˚

opening night *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the regulars

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> visitor: ransom drysdale

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the staff (coming soon!)

pete's place presents: the drabbles. *✧ ༊*·˚

*minors need not interact. this is a 18+ space.

*this is a dark au, with heavy topics & triggers. happy endings do not happen here.

[eccentricallygothic]

I am supposed to be studying literary theory but what if Strict Daddy!Curtis Everett…

Pairing: Strict Daddy!Curtis | Bunny Baby!You.

Warning(s): Strict ddlg, Daddy!Curtis, Baby!Reader, fear/intimidation kink (it's Curtis), minor fluff, allusions to punishment and whipping, Daddy kink, pet names, shy reader.

“Bunny!” Your Daddy, Curtis Everett calls as he enters the apartment. His huge form passes through the crack he made for himself before closing it behind him with his foot. “Get in here!” The stuffed paper bag that he holds to his chest crinkles against his leather jacket as he locks the door behind him.

“Bunny!” Curtis calls into the quiet house again when you don't show up like you're supposed to, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he looks left and right before relieving himself of his jacket and discarding the article on the couch. “Little g—”

“Coming, Daddy!” You obediently respond at last, putting your joystick down and rushing out of the bunny cave your loving Daddy made for you. 

A smile makes its way onto Curtis' face when you finally appear on the horizon of his sight. “Careful” he cannot help but instruct out of instinct when you begin to bolt in his direction without a second thought. “Easy, baby” he chuckles at your excitement as his huge form takes a seat on the couch. His words make you come to a screeching halt because disobeying Curtis is never in your best interests. “Now,” he says only once you've fully stopped. “Come here” he holds out a hand for you, his heavily built and tattooed arm stretching in the process. You politely accept his hand and gingerly sit down on his lap, the movement making the silky bunny ears on the top of your head to slide down just a little bit as you do.

Even after all this time and the things Curtis has done to you, your cheeks flush a hot red from how shy he makes you feel.

“I got you something” the baritone of his manly voice is velvet to your ears as he presses his bearded cheek into your arm. 

“Really, Daddy?” You excitedly turn all your attention to the package he is now unwrapping. 

Curtis hums and his long fingers expertly work the paper. Your Daddy is good at knowing and doing everything. “Here, hold it” blood drains from your face and your smile falters when the object comes into view. 

You go speechless, not that you know many words in his presence anyways. 

“So, what do you think?”

You blink as you slowly accept the instrument in your hands, timid fingers slowly feeling its expanse. A whimper is all you can let out when your finger catches on a crevice.

“Do you know what this is, bunny?” You tense up when his muscular arms wrap around your waist, the ink on them nearly causing them to appear as snakes.

You don't know what to say. And you are not sure that even if you knew what to say, you would have wanted to. 

“Of course” the vibration of his mirth nearly caves your shoulder blades in. “Too small and dumb to know such things, aren't you, baby?” Your hands go to collapse so Curtis supports them with one of his own. “It's a bullwhip, baby” the man takes one of your hands in his to help your fingers feel the hide. “And it's a really good one too, hand braided and all, rather expensive.” 

You are nervous, confused and scared. “B- But… w- why, P- Papa?” Your strangled voice is barely audible. 

Curtis smirks when he hears the name you call him. You only do that when you're extremely small or intimidated. 

“For when you misbehave, silly!” He says in a ‘cheerful’ tone but you know him too well. Your back arches and you crane your neck from the sensitivity when Curtis strokes your cheek with the tip of his nose. “Are you going to misbehave, bunny?” Though his words are a sensual whisper in your ear, the menace that they hold is clear as the sky on a sunny day. 

“N- No, D- Dada…” You gulp at how the whip feels against the pads of your fingers. 

“Then we've nothing to worry about” but he knows. And you do too. It is in the smugness of his voice and the wavers of your breathing, the snort he lets out and the way you pout.

It will come. You are bound to slip. He spoils you too much for you not to. And when you do, Curtis will be there. With this very whip between his tattooed hands.

[bigtreefest]

Happy Hoelloween! 🎃❤️ Please accept this lil hoe treat just for you:

It looks like he’s had a hard day and needs one of your sweet treats to turn his frown upside down. Hope you’re up for it, because he sure is 🍆😘

A Well-deserved Treat

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (modern AU)

Summary: After a long day, you know exactly what Curtis needs

Word count: 729

Content/warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, grunty Curtis, grumpy Curtis, nonverbal Curtis, soapy handjob, shower, Curtis’s beautiful naked body

A/N: Hehehe, happy Hoelloween, Siri!! A sweet treat, indeed!! Thank you so much for sending this in. Sorry it’s a little bit after Halloween, but I think this kind of slowed-down comfort is what we need right now. My poor Curty having a hard day? The least I can do is take care of him when he always does the same for me!!!

Thank you all for reading! Comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated.

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Main Masterlist

Curled up on the couch queueing up all the scary movies you had planned to watch for the night, you heard his truck pull into the driveway. Curtis was finally home, and it was much later than you both had anticipated.

On most days, he was gone before the sunrise, that part wasn’t new. But early hours usually meant an early return unless something went wrong at the shop. And judging by the way the sun was well below set in the sky and you were already on your second bowl of candy for the trick-or-treaters, something went really wrong.

The door closed a little harder than usual, although Curtis was careful not to slam it. Based off of that, he didn’t seem angry about the day, but most definitely annoyed at the very least.

You turned to greet him, but he was already gone, the faint sound of him toeing off his boots filling the hallway along with his jingling belt buckle. He was probably going to take a shower to wash the day away, which was a good idea. That always calmed him a little, but he probably needed even more than that.

Curtis was probably going to take a bit of a longer shower, too, but you didn’t want to waste time. You moved quickly to throw the blanket off of you, grabbing the bowl of candy and setting it on the doormat for kids to help themselves. Your man needed you.

You ran quickly with your socked feet faintly sliding on the wooden floors, grateful you had already closed the windows earlier as you shucked off pieces of clothing one by one, leaving a trail.

Once you got to the bathroom door, Curtis was already under the water, simply standing there and letting it rush over him, a faint frown on his face. His hulking shoulders rose and fell steadily with his even breathing which was interrupted as you stepped into his space.

Curtis’s eyes blinked open, his long eyelashes catching droplets of water. Your heart sunk a little, seeing the clear exhaustion in his features as you reached up, your hands gently cupping his jaw, beard lightly scratching your palms.

“Hi, honey,” you whispered just above the sound of rushing water. He simply sighed and gave a grunt in response. Curtis had used his voice too much today, barking orders and corrections around the shop, dealing with more than his fair share of customers. Words were not something he wanted to produce right now, and he was so happy you could see that with the sympathetic smile that you flashed him.

Without a second thought, you knew exactly what you needed to do, reaching to the side and grabbing a dollop of body wash. You lathered it between your hands before pressing them against his firm pecs, rubbing in small circles. You moved outward across the broad expanse of his chest, watching his eyes flutter shut and his head tilt backwards in ecstasy.

You worked your way downward, over the hair of his chest and the ridges of his abs until you came upon the thatch of hair just above where he was starting to grow hard. The relaxation and care you were showing him was enough to do that, and after the kind of day he had, be needed a release.

You reached your soapy hand for his shaft, slowly pumping his length. You were startled as Curtis’s hand shot out and slapped the shower wall, his chin falling to his sternum as his breaths began to pick up. You could hear them huffing out of his nose. He watched the way you expertly twisted your wrist, slightly tentative since he still hadn’t spoken yet.

Curtis’s head slowly rose, his pupils blown with pleasure looking at you through his eyelashes. From the sight of his lust and need to feel good taking over, you got distracted, lost in his gaze. You didn’t even realize your hold weakening, your rhythm faltering until his large hand clasped over yours, helping you squeeze him and move faster.

Finally, Curtis’s lips broke their seal with a small gasp. His chest rumbled in a way that sent a shiver through you despite the warm water. His voice came out in a low growl, one you couldn’t ever bring yourself to deny.

“That’s it. Give me what I need.”

Bonus A/N: Gimme that beast of a man. Lemme shower him in affection and wash off that grime in an actual shower🫣

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi

[buckymorelikefuckme]

just a Thot idk but…

Curtis is still very unsure why you came over to talk to him, of all people in this crowded bar. He knows he gives off slightly less than welcoming vibes on the best of days. It used to bother him and made him overly aware of what his face was doing on a regular basis, until he decided it shouldn’t bother him, so he stopped letting it.

Anyway, that isn’t to say he’s not internally thrilled by your presence. The confident way you slid into the tiny space between him and the moody, shadowed corner he’d placed himself into had him intrigued right away.

Conversation has been flowing so well that he can’t deny the tug in his gut telling him he’s got to ask for your number before the night is over with. You’ve managed to make him crack several smiles and even a couple huffs of laughter. A lot of people who’ve met Curtis would call it a miracle.

You’re teasing him now, about the slight pink flush to his cheeks from the beers he’s had and the dirty joke you just made. He looks away to roll his eyes in exasperation, getting ready to make a retort when you suddenly grip his chin and force him to meet your gaze once again, cooing at him and teasing him some more when the flush deepens and spreads to the tips of his ears.

Curtis feels his stomach swoop and the skin where you’re touching him tingles warmly and fuck, he’s getting hard too. Your smile is sly and curious in equal measure as he swallows thickly.

He can ask for your number in the morning, he decides, after he’s taken you home to let you have your filthy way with him.

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi Ro😌❤️

comfort character ask：🛁？

A Nice Relaxing Bath, a Curtis Everett x reader fic

Summary: Your roommate's brother crashes at the apartment while he works in the area.

Pertinent info: not on a train! I went very overboard on the idea that Curtis is the sweetest man on the planet, and I am not ashamed.

Warning: this, uh, it got steamy. Literally. Smut-adjacent. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Minors, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist instead, but this one is not for you. WC 2.1k

“I’m fine.”

“You’re filthy,” you bite back as your roommate’s brother peels off his dingy coat in your living room. “You should take the bath.”

Curtis waves you off weakly. “No need. I’ll shower after you’re done…or in the morning.”

He lays a bed sheet over the couch, dead tired and mentally vacant.

“There won’t be enough hot water.” You had no idea when he’d be coming in. He was supposed to arrive last night but got so delayed he drove in this morning, heading straight to his job site instead of dropping his things off first. That was twelve hours ago.

You’re well aware of how exhausting shifts like that can be from your time at the hospital.

“Then morning it is,” Curtis huffs.

“My couch will smell bad far longer than you will. Please—“ you point to the bathroom, wearing only your towel “—it’s all yours.”

Your guest shakes his head and pulls off his beanie. “I’m serious. I’m too tired.”

You shrug. “I promise you’ll feel like a million bucks after and sleep like a baby.”

Perhaps the smell of lavender wafting from the washroom entices him, or perhaps he finally catches a whiff of himself, but Curtis stands and walks all the way over, stopping a few inches in front of you.

He smirks.

“Promises, promises…” he drawls, side-stepping into the bathroom.

From force of habit, you always quickly shower after a shift, but you weren’t expecting the doorbell to ring or Curtis to announce his arrival. Now that you’ve checked your phone, after sifting through your bag discarded immediately onto the other side of your bed, you see a text from his sister…from half an hour ago, saying he’s on his way.

You can’t very well hand him the towel against your skin currently. You’ll need to get him something fresh.

You throw on a t-shirt and shorts before rummaging in the linen closet for the spares. Just as you’re about to knock on the door to hand them over, you hear grunting and hissing, not from the water. There’s a muttered curse that sounds very pained.

“Curtis?” you call.

He only takes one step, meaning he was not close to the bathtub yet, and cracks open the door. He hides most of his body behind it, except you see his left shoulder. Purple and brown bruises litter the joint.

“Jesus, buddy!” You can’t help it. Against his pale skin, any trauma would look serious.

“It’s fine. Those for me?”

You don’t move.

“Can you even lift that arm, Curtle?”

His nose scrunches in distaste of his childhood nickname, shoving a hand out. “I said it’s fine. You giving me the towels or not?”

Every effort behind every word drains a little more life from Curtis’s eyes and voice. It’s like watching someone scrape the last shrivels of food from a to-go container—pathetic and sad.

You press the linens to your own chest.

“Let me help you.”

“You’re not bathing me,” he scoffs.

“I’m a nurse. Please. It’s not anything I haven’t seen before.”

Curtis glances back inside the bathroom as if searching for answers elsewhere, but when he turns to let his sky-blue eyes meet yours, he neither fights nor flees.

“Hey now,” you soothe. “I’ve lived here two years. I can fake your sister’s tone like you would not believe. Don’t make me use the voice.”

One corner of his mouth ticks up beneath his dark beard.

“Fine, but this was your idea and I’m not getting yelled at later for being a creep, ya hear?”

“Got it,” you nod, closing the door behind you once he lets you in.

He turns around to unbuckle his belt and pull down his bottoms. More and more bruising is visible with every inch exposed, some yellow and old, some nearly bleeding out the surface. There’s a line of dirt and grime along his neck where his shirt blocked the soot. You set the stack of towels on the closed toilet and reach to help him in, avoiding looking by professional default.

This is pretty much exactly what you do all day, but most of your patients would be sponge baths. In fact, Curtis will be easier because he has all his faculties, use of all his limbs, and doesn’t need help washing anything below the waist. He’s just too beat up and tired to lift his arms much.

“Holy fuck, that’s hot.” He winces and curls the dipped toes away from the water again, but once you move to start the tap and add cold, he grips your hand harder. “No, no. Don’t. I’ll get used to it. Just gimme a sec.”

Somehow, spending the time holding a six-foot man upright in the humid, aromatic air is just as relaxing as if you were submerged yourself, so you wait while his toes, feet, ankles, legs, and finally, butt are all acclimated before lathering a washcloth. The loofah would be too harsh across the bruises.

“Back first and then I’ll leave you to soak?”

Curtis doesn’t really answer. He simply leans forward and tilts his head down.

He moans involuntarily when you splash water over the whole area and tenses when you graze his sides.

He’s ticklish, so you poke him only one more time for fun and then start scrubbing at his neck.

As you finish up the broad expanse of his back, though he’s a little skinny considering his frame, you fold over the cloth and hand it to him.

“You wanna get your face?”

He sweeps it back and forth a few times and then splashes. You can see that he’s not clean.

“Fine. I’ll do that, too,” you grumble without real ire and plop forward onto your ass, reaching out both hands once you soap them up.

He holds his eyes closed while you circle over his forehead and cheeks, stares while you scrub into his beard, and laughs when you use the grip of your thumbs to pull him into a joker grin.

That earns you a playful splash. Curtis is still chuckling as he rinses the soap off his face, leaving a fresh hole in the thick layer of bubbles. His eyelashes are so long he has to squish water out of them before he can see you again, then he looks sad as he smiles.

“I’m sorry I stole your bath.”

Worth it, you think. “Can’t steal what’s given freely.”

“Or you could…” Curtis shuffles his hips “…join me?”

“The tub is not that big.”

His eyebrow quirks, intrigued by the challenge. “Bet we can make it fit.”

“That’s what she said,” you burst, grinning.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean…not like that.” He’s so cute when he laughs.

As adorable and tempting as the offer is, you still state the obvious. “Buddy, you’re naked.”

“I can keep my hands to myself. Promise.”

“Promises, promises,” you tsk in retort.

Curtis mountains a pile of bubbles to show how covered you’d still be, laying the washcloth over his lap as a barrier. “Better decide before the water gets too cold.”

You let out a long sigh.

Though you’re clean enough anyway, your legs ache from a long day on your feet, and it would be nice to release that tension from the muscles.

You toss a second washcloth over his face.

“No peaking, bub!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles, letting the fabric trap in his mouth for emphasis.

It’s comical to order him around—move this leg, that foot can’t be flat, scoot all the way back, etc—but once successfully sandwiched between his thighs you tell him to keep his eyes closed and take away the cloth to use as a kind of tube top.

“Need me to get back here?” he offers.

“Nah,” you say shaking your head, “just wanted the heat on my legs.”

Curtis sinks into the tub and molds himself to the tile wall behind him. “Sure feels good after a long day.”

You two compare the long hours you’ve worked today, the day before, and the day before that, and it turns into a tie for who is the saddest over-achiever.

“You can lean on me,” he whispers. “Come on, relax, honey. You’ve earned it, too.”

So you do.

You tuck your head right beneath Curtis’s chin, the roughness of his beard catching gently in your hair, careful not to put weight directly on his bruises.

You both quickly fall into that almost-dream state, the kind where time doesn’t exist between eye blinks, rising and dipping with his breaths, soaking in more than just the comfort of the bath.

 It feels like hours—or maybe just an instant later—that the water feels just shy of lukewarm. Your fingers are pruney. The bubbles are gone.

Who knows what kicks you out of your peaceful reverie, but Curtis jolts when you do, wrapping his arms around you.

“S—sorry,” he stutters. A few fingers land against your washcloth top and tug reflexively.

You tilt your head to assure him you’re okay only to find his gaze locked farther forward. Your knees are bent to fit in the tub, and with your legs splayed this way, without the cover of bubbles, you’re exposed to him

Curtis stays quiet while you feel his breath hitch beneath your back. His fingers scratch over your belly gently until finally—

“You’re so soft,” he says reverently, gratefully, as if handed a present not on his birthday.

Gently, careful not to hurt him, you turn around.

His eyes are wide and questioning but don’t falter from your attention even when the washcloth topples from your breast. His lips fall apart, waiting for your choice, but all over his features is written how much he wants you.

Has that look ever been there before? Did you simply not notice?

“Sis is gonna be mad,” he mutters, swallowing loudly while you shift to your knees in the water.

You inch closer and closer, mouth brushing his. “Why?” 

“Because,” he confesses, “she told me not to touch you.” 

“When did she tell you that?”

Of course, you want to kiss him, but it’s quite fun to see him almost tremor with anticipation.

Curtis’s eyes find yours. “The day I moved her in.”

His warm breath dances with yours, tongue darting across his bottom lip. 

“Well then…” You lift one leg at a time to coax his together, straddling his lap. “Don’t touch me. Just let me touch you.” 

You’re not sure which movement garners the moan he lets rip through his chest, your mouths finally meeting or you wiggling to get comfy. Both continue. So do the moans.

The tented, sopping washcloth is tossed with a squelch to the floor as he hardens between your thighs, but each second is relished, each ounce of energy pried from your reserves.

The kisses are slow and sweet, long and dragged out like the lazy rocking of your hips.

At first, he really doesn’t touch you, his hands grip and slip along the smooth rim of the tub until you feel his fingers graze your sides. Curtis is trying to tickle you in some sick revenge. It leaves you both smiling even while you take his wrists and force his hold lower. 

“Can’t seem to keep your promises, big guy.” 

“I’m a rebel,” he jokes with a smile, grabbing your ass to help you move, “and this is a good cause.” 

You’re so tired, and this is so perfect. No frantic movements make for a soft tide in the bath water, ebbing and flowing without breaching the ceramic edge, yet it’s enough to build a current strong enough that you both come, mumbling cursing and praises to each other.

“I don’t think you’re any cleaner than when we started,” you say, nuzzling the fading scruff of beard down his throat. As you recover with panting breaths, his cum washes away from his abs, diluted in the residual rhythm of the water. “Maybe a brisk rinse?”

Curtis’s eyes stay shut for most of the short shower.

He lets you lead him around to whatever angle is best and holds you for warmth when the chill gets into your bones briefly. The shock is refreshing though. 

Inside a cocoon of plush towels, his sleepy, happy eyes find yours, and he pulls the wrap tighter around your bodies.

“You kept your promise,” he chuckles. “I do feel like a million bucks, and I absolutely will sleep like a baby.”

You beam in his embrace, soft trapped in strong. 

“My bed is comfier than the couch,” you offer.

Curtis leans more of his weight onto you and sighs. 

“Honey, you’re the comfiest thing anywhere.”

from this game of "Comfort My Characters"

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Uuuuuuuugh, guys, this was difficult to write because I wouldn't stop swooning the entire time. Just let me wash the dirty man. Let me snuggle him in the tub and fall asleep to the sound of bursting bubbles 😭 I can't handle the sweetness!!!

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish (sry, you guys are probably sick of being tagged so much, let me know if it's too annoying plz)

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[geminixevans-stan]

Sweetest Thing - 1

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

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.

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.

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….

[missacidburn928]

All Aboard The Friday Fantasy Train

Chapter 5 of It's Hard For Me To Say... is now live on ao3!

Click the link above to enjoy.

As Always,

Happy Reading Heathens!

[georgiapeach30513]

Oh my god!! These two! The sexual tension is palatable. But I’m glad they’re getting somewhere with it!

Heart of Glass - Seven

Slowly getting back into the swing of things. Thanks for the patience as I try to find my writing brain again. I’d like to thank Sevyn Streeter’s ‘In Common’ for the inspiration for this chapter.

Heart of Glass Series Masterlist

Therapist! Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, language, mentions of therapy, jealousy, angst, slow burn, slight edging.

Summary | A bad breakup lands you in the office of Dr. Curtis Everett, who seeks to help you further at the request of your local therapist, due to his renowned talent in his niche profession.

Nothing seems to fit the way you want it to.

The colors drive you nuts, the fabrics seem to fold and hug every part of your body that you’re already insecure about.

And the clock keeps ticking down.

Your final selection is a simple black dress that stops at your calves, the neckline just enough to be revealing without too much. He’s already sent you three places to choose from, all of them expensive and way over your usual tastes but in your haste, you chose the one that looked like you could order with ease without any adjustments and he’d already secured a reservation.

“Focus,” you mutter to yourself, turning to the side to see how the dress fits. It’s one dinner, you keep telling yourself, slipping your feet into the black pumps. Black is classic, you remember your mother telling you once. You fought with your hair enough that you’ve finally figured out a solution, standing in the mirror to put on your earrings and secretly curse that you don’t have a big selection of jewelry. It’s never been your style but now you find yourself wishing that you had more to choose from instead the diamond studs your mother bought you for your last birthday.

It still feels a little raw, the underlying feeling of wanting to say something to Curtis, to lash out and remind him that he humiliated you by effectively shutting down anything else you had to say. It puts you at odds of how you feel now, admiring yourself for a moment and wondering what he’ll think when he sees you.

By now, you know that it shouldn’t matter. You’re independent, well read and you don’t need anyone’s approval.

But that doesn’t stop you from trying to talk yourself out of carrying your latest purchase, a brand new YSL chain handbag that you treated yourself to a week ago.

His number flashes on the screen, your stomach doing a slight flip as you let it ring two more times, swiping your fingers to the right to answer.

“You ready to go or do you need some more time?”

Your mouth goes dry trying to answer, forcing yourself to mute for a moment while you clear your throat.

Keep reading

[georgiapeach30513]

Much Too Fast, Part 5

Summary: it's time for everyone to talk

Pairings: Curtis X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  explicit language, Curtis and Tati arguing, flashing, sexual tension/frustration, skinny dipping, wet/dry humping, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“And say please,” Poet slams her hands on the high chair, screeching, and you shake your head no. “Poe, you have got to say please,” your voice is still so soft, but the sweet baby slams her hands on the high chair, screaming out no.

“Poet!” Poet looks at Tati, puckering out her bottom lip, looking up at you sympathetically. Tati’s patience with Poet was virtually nonexistent, “I am tired, and I don’t want to listen to this screaming!” Poet lifts her hands up, making grabby hands up at you. Big drops of tears hug her lash line, and she softly whispers please. You didn’t want her to say please because of screaming. But you will hold her when she needs comforting.

Tati massages her temples. Circling her fingers over and over the area, paying you no mind, so you pull Poet out of her high chair. Shushing her as you bounce her around. The rules never seem to make sense when Tati is here. She wants Poet to learn to be independent, but when she’s here she just wants her daughter to be appeased as long as she’s quiet. Whatever it takes to keep her from making noise.

“Tati?”

“What?” You hold Poet even tighter at her mom’s harsh word. She never looks at you; just stays preoccupied with nursing her tender head.

“Can I ask you a question?” A question made things seem mild. You had so many questions to ask her, and none of which involved her daughter. You second guess this conversation because it truly wasn’t any of your business, but Curtis had made it your business. Over and over again he has made it your business because he is too persistent and needy, and dammit, you’re cracking.

Her arms slam on the table, and she glares at you. Her beady perfectly lines eyes bore holes into yours for daring to try and talk to her. For someone who’s head hurts, she’s being painfully noisy with that slap on the wood. She looks so irritated that you’re talking to her that you nearly change your mind. “Are you wanting a raise or something?”

“No.”

“No? Hmm, well, fine, I’ll give you a raise,” now she massages the bridge of her nose, ignoring you yet again. So you clear your throat, “What is it now?”

“My questions,” she moves her hand from her nose, glaring at you again. Clearly multiple questions isn’t something she wants to entertain. “I’m sorry, it’s just one question,” why did you fear her? Was it because she held a lot in her hands? “Umm, it’s probably none of my business.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t ask it. Grace, can you just spit it out. I really don’t have time for this. I have a headache, and I’m tired, and ready to take a nap,” that’s what she’s always doing here. You’re aware that you’re the nanny, but who was the mother?

“I’m very confused with yours and Curtis’ dynamics and relationship.”

Tati snorts, shaking her head. Her manicured fingers roll over the table before she looks at them like she’s bored. “That isn’t a question. But I should have figured. My husband is a very traditionally attractive man. But he’s stunted,” what a weird fucking thing to say about that man that spends more time with her daughter than she does. “I know there’s a lot of things about him that you may find attractive, but you deserve better.”

That took a turn. She didn’t know that you knew about her not even finding Curtis attractive sexually. She didn’t know that you knew that she had another life with a woman. You almost have a feeling she’s in love with that woman, and you’re falling for Curtis, but didn’t feel comfortable with this predicament. You didn’t want to share, you wanted him all to yourself. And Poet.

“No, I don’t love that man,” rude. There’s something that sits so grossly in your stomach about ‘that man’. That is the father of her beautiful daughter. And one she didn’t spend much time with. One that was tapping on your arm, and smiling up at you. “Curtis and I have never even been in love. This was a mistake. I got to go,” she pushes her chair back, standing abruptly before those stilettos click out of the kitchen.

There had to be some form of warmth that she possessed at some point for Curtis to have been friends with her. But now all you see is stress, and disdain for her life here at this house. Bitterness always coats her face and actions. She slams the door behind her, and Poet looks up at you gasping with a smile before she throws both hands up, “Yay!”

“You’re rotten, you know that?”

“Yep. Uh!” She looks out the back door, and to the pool. She loves swimming and spending the days outside. She’d swim in her float or your arms all day. Tati didn’t give you any clear indications on where you were with things. She didn’t give much at all other than she wasn’t in love, and Curtis wasn’t worth the time for you. And you didn’t believe that at all. You see how he loves his daughter, and know he has so much more love to give to a partner.

There is a part of you that wants to take Tati’s advice because this is a complete mess. It’s a disaster area. But you know what you feel when you’re with him. You know the way he looks at you, and smiles at you. And you love his daughter. This is all much too fast, and you didn’t know how to slam the breaks on it, but maybe you weren’t meant to.

Tati gave you absolutely no answers other than she didn’t love Curtis. She might not have told you that they didn’t have sex, but judging by her answers, you doubt she does anything with Curtis. But…dammit, you feel so conflicted. An ache sits in your stomach because you are too attached. You want him, and Poet, and want to go on a date, and not be hidden out here while she galivants around the world with her girlfriend. You want to be proud to be with Curtis.

“Poe Poe, if you eat your breakfast, we can go swimming, okay?”

“Tay,” she makes her sweet grabby hands for her plate, and you place her back in the high chair. “Pes!” she’s learning manners, and that’s more than you can say for her horny dad or hateful mother.

Tati’s car is in the garage. Your car is here. And there’s a very cute distinctive giggle coming from the pool. His kryptonite. And now you’ve brought his daughter into it. He sighs, walking out of the garage and to the back of the house. Stopping at the fence to stare at you slightly splashing Poet just to make her giggle.

Her chunky little legs kick about, causing her tube to spin around, and then you pick her up out of the tube. You lift her above your head, fully standing up out of water, and his mouth falls open. Poet giggles down at you, as streams of water flow down your curves. You’re too sexy to be holding his daughter.

And then you squat back down into the water, taking Poet with you, and she splashes around. Continuing to giggle, and smile up at you. She crashes her mouth into you kissing your jawline. Having a time of her life in the dreaded pool. The bane of his existence. This is bad. Great, and amazing. But bad. Too many feelings and emotions course through his bloodstream. Warmth and passionate heat.

He looks down at his pants, taking a deep breath, and telling himself that he would really like to join in the family swimming time, so he needs to calm down. Inhale and exhale. Relax, and get your fucking mind out of the gutter. Who knew he had a goddamn breeding kink because all he can think about is enjoying fucking a baby into you. Not accidentally, but pumping you full of him every night until it stuck. He’s a disgusting man.

Once he’s centered himself, he slings the gate open, and Poet screams at him, “Dada!”

“Hey, baby. Do you mind if I change and come swim with you and Grace?”

“Yay!”

“I was wondering when you were going to come inside the gate, instead of lingering out there watching us,” his tongue slowly exits his mouth, and he traces his luscious bottom lip with it. Pulling the lip back in his mouth where he bites on it. Smirking and shrugging while walking to his bedroom. “He’s a menace,” a fucking menace that makes you squeeze your thighs together, and regulate your breathing because you’re holding a baby, and can’t do anything about the need to touch and rub on him.

Poet giggles, blowing raspberries and points all over the pool. Telling you, in her way, where she wants to swim to. You ferry her around the pool, letting her splash along the way. The happiest baby you’ve ever met, and when she playfully gasps, and looks towards her dad’s room, that smile gets even bigger.

Curtis and his hairy tits jog to the diving board, and he dives it. Swimming under water towards you, and you back away, “Dada go?” Poet looks at the dark figure that travels in the water, until he pops up right in front of her face. He grabs onto your hips, keeping you in place, and she begs for him to hold her. “Dada!”

“Hey, baby girl. Come ‘ere,” reaching for her he makes sure to give your side more than too much of a touch. He skims his hands from your hips up your side, and you bite back a whimper. That devilish grin pops up as he stares so intently at you. “What have you and Grace been doing today? Just being water babies?” She smiles, laughing up at him.

“You got home early.”

“I liked what I was coming home to,” silence. You can’t respond to that without sounding like a twittering school girl, or a hateful bitch. He sure knows how to lay things on thick, and it just makes you weak. In an alternative life, you can imagine him coming home, and being all excited while you playfully flirt, and still have fun with the kids. You can see him smacking your ass playfully, while the kids are too busy to see their parents are setting up the long foreplay for the night.

Having hours of buildup, until each and every one of the kids are asleep, and Curtis and you lock the door, and have fun with each other’s bodies. It seems so easy, and yet this situation is a mess. Tati at least let you know that there aren't any lingering feelings with Curtis.

“I spoke with your wife today,” you begin. Curtis dips his mouth underwater, pretending to play with Poet, but he’s watching you. Too much. “She confirmed about not having any feelings. But she didn’t seem to think too highly of you, and that makes me confused.”

“Probably because I wasn’t enough to make her straight, because being attracted to women is who she is, and it’s easier to blame other people than accept that, and there’s no one at fault here. Tati being in love with a woman shouldn’t hurt anyone. The issue is that it has stalled me from moving on with you. It’s not fair to Monica either. It’s not fair to Poe because this baby knows that while her mom wouldn’t hurt her, she doesn’t want to be a full time part of her life. And I don’t think she enjoys her very much,” you can confirm that. But he already knows.

You wade the water. Making circles around his body, and he spins right along with you. Looking between you and Poet. “I’m crazy, but this feels right. Playing in the pool with my two favorite girls. Staring at your nipples poking through your bathing suit.”

“Curtis!” the bastard laughs as you circle your hands over your chest. “You are holding a baby.”

“She can’t really talk now.”

“Is all our conversations going to end up in the perverted realm of things?” Is there more than this burning desire to just fuck each other? Or is the need to have each other shadowing anything else?

“No,” you raise your eyebrows in a challenge. “No, but I think sex should be fun. I think that life is too serious, and why can’t I shamelessly flirt with a girl I find attractive?” That’s not flirting, and he knows it. That is being a horny devil.

“I don’t want that serious of a relationship with someone. I’ve done the five star restaurants, and the dinners with family and it’s this big ordeal. I don’t want that. I want to have fun. I want to be able to joke with you,” that boyish grin fades a moment. “This house is beautiful, and perfect in its way, but I don’t need this. I do like this pool.”

“Do you?” You couldn’t tell he liked it at all…

“Yeah,” his voice is menacingly low. And you feel it right to your core. You wade further away from him. Keeping your hands low in the water. It’s wrong, and you know it is. But sometimes a little teasing never hurt anyone. Poet is paying attention too much attention to her dad’s beard. That beautiful face of hair. A face that you would like to ride, and instead you’re going to rub one out alone. Again.

You grab a side of the gusset of your panties, moving it to the side. But you think twice about it, and pull it back to cover yourself. Had he not had that sweet baby in his arms, you would have asked him to look under the water. He makes you want to sin in too many ways.

“It’s hard to try and figure out what is acceptable when there’s a baby between us. But you can try that again tonight. When you meet me out here after Poet’s put to bed,” he stalks towards the shallow end of the pool. Backing you up. Up. And up, until you collapse on the stairs. “I’d really like to see what I’ve been missing. Without touching that is.”

“On one condition,” your voice is so hoarse, and you try to keep some decency. You’re too weak when it comes ot him.

“Anything.”

“You talk to Tati tonight. She can’t hold your feelings hostage forever. And I don’t want to wait on you forever. I’m greedy and I want you right now.”

Poet splashes and splashes, reaching towards you before Curtis relinquishes her into your arms. “What if…what if I talk to her, and she doesn’t like my ultimatum? Because I think she knows.”

“Knows what?” You know what time it is. If Tati is going to be here, she’s already here, and about to have her takeout delivered. She could already be walking to the door. Maybe she’s peeked outside the window, wondering what the noise was. Right now you didn’t care. You’re willing to break all the rules for just a kiss. Just a chance of normalcy for a moment.

You know exactly what he’s talking about as he gets closer. Looming over you with that giant stature, and ignoring Poet pulling down your top and exposing yourself. Curtis puts his nose right on yours, and you forget how to breathe. Have to focus on the rise and fall of his chest because you’re breathing is irregular.

“She knows I’m finally falling for someone. She knows that this has been a slow road, because she knows normally, I just fuck and move on. That’s why she chose me,” he pulls your top to cover your body again. “She thought I’d never ask for a divorce.”

You swallow deeply. Ignoring the door closing. He wanted to get caught, so he can have a discussion with her. “So are you asking for a divorce?”

“You said I have to if I want to be with you,” Curtis stands up, reaching for his daughter, and you hand her off. Letting him walk out of the pool. “And I want to actually try something real for once, so I want to be with you.”

You let out a long breath. Watching as he walks into his room with Poet. Surely going to dry both of them off, and dress so they can join Tati for dinner. Your chest heaves as you let the intensity of that moment wash over you. It leaves you in such a weird spot because Tati is your employer. And here you just were ready to flash her husband your cunt, while he held her daughter. You are losing all self control and self respect for yourself.

Curtis is making you crazy. Imagining that you and him were a normal couple that didn’t start off as a stranger fucking you within an inch of your life. What were you doing? You were risking everything. All of your morals. Ready to throw everything away for him. For this. To make this thing work. What the fuck? How was Tati even going to respond to that?

Whether you’re the one with Curtis or — you hate to think about it being someone else, but either way, it wasn’t fair. He deserves the chance at someone more than sex. And he’s somehow chosen you, and it makes you lightheaded. You’re horny and pent up as fuck. But you like him. Like his daughter, and in order for this to work, you do need to show some decorum and just wait.

Sighing, you get up out of the pool yourself. You need food. Probably alcohol. But definitely food. And to fuck yourself, so you’re not so fucking horny when you meet Curtis at the pool when the lights go outside. That pool is an aphrodisiac. You get in it and you need body parts touching. Ugh! Why is this so hard to not be such a slut with him? You’re horny. You’re just horny. It has nothing to do with actually having feelings for him.

Nope. Not you. Food. Come. Alcohol. Make yourself come again? How many times would it take so you’re not ready to jump on top of Curtis and ride him like your life depended on it? Alcohol. Just a little, not a lot. You can do this. You and Curtis were going to talk, and see where this goes. That’s all. That’s absolutely all you were going to do. Yep.

Curtis’ fingers roll on the table, and he looks at Poet. Then at the table. Then his Chinese takeout. Then his chopsticks. Then back to Poet. Everywhere but his ‘wife’. And Tati just glares at him. Chewing her food slowly, and being too aggressive with the chopsticks.

Watching the coward as he blatantly ignores her. After the conversation with you this morning, she could tell you wanted to fuck her husband. And judging by the two of you in the pool, he wanted to fuck you, too. Asshole. How dare he dishonor the marriage like that. He didn’t care about how it made her look. He just needs to get his dick wet.

She knows she’s being ridiculous, and Curtis knows about Monica. He’s met Monica. Actually likes her. But he is sneaking behind her back. He’s probably snuck right into that pool house, and fucked you already. Walking around, and pretending that he’s never touched you. Jerk. He’s such a pig headed man.

She lays her chopsticks on the side of her bowl, places her elbows on the table, and then rests her chin on her arms. That sickeningly sweet business smile spreads over her face, but lacks any warmth. “How long have you been fucking the nanny?”

Curtis doesn’t look away from Poet at first. He gives her another bite of food before his attention goes back to Tati, “Let’s not do this in front of our daughter.”

“Oh, I know she’s our daughter. I carried her for nine fucking months, because you couldn’t pull out properly.”

“And now you fuck Monica.”

“And you’re fucking that girl!” Tati’s voice is shrill as she losing control, but Curtis’ remains collected.

“Do not call her a girl! And, no. I’m not fucking her. I have fucked her,” Tati gasps, causing Curtis’ eyes to roll in the back of her head. “Yes, Tati, it was before I even knew her. It was supposed to be a one night stand with a girl that picked me up on the side of the road.”

“You’re lucky to be alive! Poet could have lost her father, and then…”

“You’d have to actually be a mother?” Her hand slams on the table, and Curtis stands up quickly when Poet’s lip puckers out, “We’re done with this conversation since you can’t be an adult.”

“You’re cheating on me!” He chuckles, pulling Poet out of her high chair, and he holds her close to him. Letting her lay her head against his chest.

“No, I’m not. We’re not together. Just legally, and I’m — I’m filing. I’ve been patient, Tat, but you’re living a life, and I’m not. I’ve met an amazing woman, and we can’t even move forward because of this shame of a marriage. We were always supposed to be friends. Things went way too far, and now we’ve even lost our friendship. We’re roommates that share a child.”

Tati worries her lip, something she only did during deep thought, so it gives Curtis enough reason to sit down. She’s at least considering his words. He waits on her to work through everything, as long as she wasn’t raising her voice and causing Poet distress, he could be here. He reaches over to his daughter’s plate, grabbing her something to nibble on. He smiles at her, as she gnaws on her dinner..

“Tater tot.”

“Don’t call me that,” her voice is short, but it doesn’t raise, and her eyes linger on the immaculate table. “I thought we had a deal?” Tati being an only child is used to having things her way. Everything always worked out for her.

“That I stay married to you forever, when a woman that I may be in love with can never be my wife? You thought I was forever going to be slut, so that’s why you thought this stupid agreement would work forever. How does Monica feel about being your dirty secret?”

“I love her,” the confidence Tati exudes disappears, and her shoulders slump. He sounds just like Monica.

“Not enough. You roam around the world on your little vacations, but she doesn’t go to family dinners. She doesn’t have a relationship with Poet, and I told her she should,” Tati’s nose scrunches up, shaking her head no. “Can you at least say it?” She shakes her head no faster. Covering her eyes with her hand. “Tati. Just tell me, and we can move forward. Your therapist said you have to admit it.”

“I sound like a terrible person,” no, right now she sounds like a terrible person. Curtis wouldn’t hold those words against her.

“It’s only terrible if we continue this dance. I can take care of her,” Tati whispers something, but Curtis doesn’t hear her. “Tati, say it. Step one.”

“I love her in my way.”

“I know you do.”

“I’d never hurt her.”

“I have never thought you would.”

“Does,” Tati sniffles, looking up at Curtis instead of the table. Glancing at her daughter with a smile, “Does she want kids?”

“I’ve never really asked. I think so,” he knows you do. You’re a perfect mom, and you deserve a child’s firsts.

“You know I can’t just tell my parents?” Curtis shrugs. He didn’t care what she told her parents, he wanted her to tell him. “You know, that your life will forever be altered?”

“It’s been that way since she was born,” Curtis made all the changes in having a child, while she didn’t make any.

“I don’t want to be a mom,” relief floods over her body, and tears break through her polished veneer. She’s been living a lie, and didn’t know how to stop it from spiraling. Gulping, she wipes at her eyes, and shimmies her shoulders. Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. “I’ve got to go.”

“Tati?”

“Just…I don’t care, just don’t go flaunting her around town. And I won’t sign my rights over until you’re married to someone I approve of. You can have sole custody like we discussed. But…I don’t want anyone to know before I’m ready. I’m going over to Monica’s. Have the fucking house,” her heels start to click out the door, but Curtis clears his throat.

“I’ll give you two weeks,” Her mouth drops open. She isn’t usd to negotiations, especially with him. He always gave her what she wanted. “I’m done waiting, Tati. Poet will be one in three weeks. You’re not doing anyone any favors by avoiding talking to your parents. And if they have a problem with who you truly are in love with, that’s on them. You will always have me and Poet, and you can be aunt Tati.”

Curtis senses her frustration. Can tell that she is irritated, but she smiles. Her smile actually reaches her eyes, and the warmth he loved about her shines through. She really didn’t want to be a mom. “I don’t want Poet to know about you. I mean who you are to her.”

“That’s fine. I — I had my tubes tied anyways. I didn’t — she’s not a mistake, but I don’t want kids. I never wanted kids. It’s not in me. Do you hate me?” He shakes his head no, and Tati sighs. “Don’t make her hate me. Either of them. I was ugly this morning.”

“And then you ran away.”

“It’s what I do best with this situation. But I don’t run from Monica. I run to her,” Curtis silently thanks her. He knows it’s been a long time, and hard work with her therapist to say all of that. Everything she said, all that she admitted to.

“I’m proud of you, Tater Tot.”

“I said don’t call me that,” Tati smiles as she walks towards the front door. Leaving a house that was never her home. Leaving a marriage that she never wanted, a daughter she loved, but didn’t need. A daughter that she is okay to step back and not raise. Give up all that responsibility to Curtis and whatever woman he chose as Poet’s mom. And she’d sign everything away. Let his wife adopt her and Poet become hers.

And for once, she’s not running away. She’s finally going home.

The house is eerily quiet. Even in the pool house, the only thing you hear is your racing heart. Having to look into the mirror to see if you can see it beating out of your chest. Thankfully, it isn’t, but your chest heaves with bated anticipation. Wrapping a towel around your body, you sit and wait like a fool in love. With the blinds open, you stare at the lit up pool, waiting. You won’t be the first one out there, even if you’re staring into that water like it can answer your questions.

You have bared enough of yourself recently, and will soon physically do that, but you need Curtis to be the one to lose control this time. Need him to tell you what you deserve to hear. At nine o’clock on the dot Curtis emerges from his bedroom. He looks towards the pool house, before going to the diving board, and diving in.

He comes up on the other end of the pool, and sits at the table. Resting his elbows on the tile before holding his head in contemplation. Water drips down his face, and you want to lick him clean. No. No. One thing at a time. And with how you’re dressed, you’re already going to cause him to have a heart attack. Deep breaths.

You step out of the pool house, but his head remains in his palms. You walk right up to the steps, and drop your towel. Making your way into the pool too slowly. Your chest is fully submerged when Curtis lifts up. His mouth in that crooked cocky smirk when he wiggles two fingers to you. Beckoning you to come closer, and you shake your head no.

“Earlier today you were trying to show me your pussy, and now you won’t let me see your naked body?” His head tilts to the side. He’s always an observant one, especially when it comes to your body.

“It was inappropriate at the time,” he nods his head as he slides out of the chair, “You stay over there,” if he comes any closer, you’ll be begging him to lift you onto his cock.

“Why?”

“If you want me closer to you, tell me how the conversation with Tati went,” Curtis sighs. He settles back into the chair, and faces towards you. His hands slide up and down his thighs, and his legs spread ever so slightly. “That bad?”

“It wasn’t bad. She’s fighting a lot. But I told her essentially I didn’t care, and gave her a time frame of two weeks, and I’m filing for divorce,” you take a step closer, staying squatted in the pool. “Put your arms down,” you shake your head no again, and he playfully growls.

“She left,” another step forward. “She’s going to stay at Monica’s tonight. You know when we bought this house, she jokingly said that if we ever divorced, she knew I would keep Poet, so I could just have it. She’ll give me full custody. But I need to be honest with you, so if you please give me a little peek,” he’s cheeky. Like showing yourself is going to make this any better.

You drop both arms from around your chest, and Curtis gets even more comfortable. Leaning back in the chair. “Stand up,” you shake your head no again. He wanted a little peek. “You’re frustrating tonight.”

“And you’re admitting to needing to see my tits to tell me this?”

“Yes. It relaxes me,” at least he’s honest. You stand up out of the water. Streams of water fall over your breasts, dripping down your hardened nipples before you dip back into the water. “You are a tease. Go up the stairs, and spread your legs.”

“The only person that will be spreading my legs will be you,” he palms his crotch, groaning. “Curtis,” you warn. He could have it all. Well. Maybe. Maybe not tonight.

“Tati doesn’t want to be a mom, and I will gladly take that off her hands. But…I don’t date to have someone in my life. I date for someone to be in hers, too, and maybe eventually, no time soon, adoption. I usually don’t date. In fact, I told Tati that’s why she went along with whatever childish game this was. Because she never saw me settling down. She thought I was always going to be fucking women at their places.”

“Theirs?” You cock up an eyebrow. Of course Curtis would be into casual sex. He slept with you after knowing you for a couple of hours. But keeping things at their places, keeps them away from his home. His safe space.

“I never bring women into my life. And I’m just a dick in theirs. I didn’t care to be more than that. Because I don’t want to share my daughter with them. Stand up all the way,” you do without hesitation, but keep your arms around your chest, “Now walk closer to me, I need to see you better,” you do. It’s not a slow crawl, it’s a normal speed. But the time just drags on as his eyes roam over your drenched body.

He stands, meeting you halfway, and his hands grab onto your hips. Sliding back behind your back as he pulls you closer, and presses your body against his. Your skin lights on fire at the feeling of his body against yours. All hard lines, and even harder cock pressing against you, and wanting to be free, “And yet, I don’t mind sharing Poet with you.”

“This is too soon,” is it? Is it too soon? Or are you too scared?

“I know, and I still can’t stop it. I don’t know how. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to be casual with you. I never saw Tati making this place her home, and she won’t be pretending to anymore. But I need to know if you see yourself becoming Poet’s mother in the future. Tati wants to be an aunt, so…” dizzy. There’s no other word than that. Whiplash maybe. But you don’t want it to be.

Yours and Curtis’ relationship has been teasing, and slightly sexual. Ultimatums about the future, but this is for real. This is the future for a little girl. “What if I don’t want that?”

“Then give me this one night, and I’ll back away. Poet needs a mother, and it’s not Tati. I’m not saying you need to adopt her tomorrow. I’m saying she doesn’t talk much, she knows you more than her mother. Her mother is nothing but an entity to her, but you are the woman that takes care of her. I already see her preferring you over her mom. And I want you, but I need you to eventually want her. Or at least see you wanting to be her mother.”

Wiggling your arms off your chest, you sink a hand low, and cup his bulge. “Do you always get horny thinking about a future with me?”

“Everything about you makes me horny. Thinking about you pregnant, seeing you make supper, watching you sneak to Poet’s room to kiss her goodnight, watching you watching me. Everything you do is sexual to me.”

You back his body up to the chair, pushing him down onto the seat before you climb in his lap. Straddling his body while you grind on him. His cock throbs on your core, and you’ve never wanted anything more than for him to sink into you. But if you’re to take things slow, you need to just get this pent up energy out, “We’re not teenagers.”

“And we’re taking this slow,” you mewl. Staring at Curtis through your lashes.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not about us anymore, is it?” He groans again. Letting his head fall back on his shoulders as he looks at the stars. Staring at you was like staring at a dream that he can’t make a reality, “Was it ever about just us?”

“That night in the hotel I was not thinking about my daughter as I was fucking you, no.”

“You never thought you’d see me again?” It’s something you’ve pondered many times. Because you never thought you’d see him again. Even if he left his card. He was to be a cock for pleasure that night. And now you see a relationship.

He sits up, shaking his head no. His eyes move over your body as you work his aching cock. This clearly isn’t enough for him, and sex right now seems rushing. But you need something. You’re dying inside. You need him, but your relationship thus far has been built on forbidden romance and sex.

“And now I can’t imagine not seeing you again,” you move faster, undulating your hips with so much enthusiasm. Writhing over him, and he’s mesmerized. It’s like a beautiful little dance that you do just for him. A private performance only for his eyes. A girl he knows has this filthy streak, but you are the perfect balance of lady and freak.

You are his perfect match. A friend, a lover, a fucking porn star with the way you’re moaning, the possible mom to his daughter, his best friend, his everything. A mate for him in all walks of life. Getting off on dry humping him in the pool and it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Well…he has been inside you, but this sexiness is different.

You’re frustrated, so you use him. “The tension is clouding our judgment, we — we — we need this.”

“Aw, is my little saving Grace getting off on this?” You nod your head yes, moving fast. “There’s a good girl. Ride me like you own me,” you move hard and fast over him. Leaning forward to nip and kiss on his neck. Taking out your frustrations on his freckled sensitive skin. “Because you do.”

You bite on his neck delicately, and give him a hard suck, while he bucks up his hips, meeting you while he blows his load into the water. Your movements slow until you’re just panting on top of him. “You know you do. Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.”

“So now what?”

“You can take me on a date on your bike. You’re the father, so you’re going to have to figure out a babysitter,” you move away from his neck, and smile at him. His eyes freely roam over your heaving chest. With a smirk, you lean back. Practically laying back on his legs so you spread your own, “You can look, but you can’t touch just yet.”

“But she’s swollen,” he says looking into the water. “And she’s blurry,” he starts to lift up your bottom half, but you sit up straight, shaking a finger in his face. “That’s not fair!”

“Proper date. And then we’ll see how I feel about something more serious with you.”

“You want it,” he teases as you saunter towards the stairs of the pool. You bend over to pick your towel up, but don’t wrap it around you before walking towards the pool house. “Can you sleep in the bed with me?”

“Find us a sitter first!” You scream over your shoulder. It’s getting harder and harder to walk away from him. Almost impossible to tell him no, while you’re dying to let him take you where he wants to go. You want him. You want everything that comes with him, but this is moving too fast.

Right?

You pace back and forth in your pool house, wrapping the towel around your body because you seem so cold. Your house feels miles away from him now. Any distance between you and Curtis feels too far away. He’s leaving her. He’s leaving his wife. You have spent months avoiding the thing and person you want, and it’s him. It’s a life with him and his daughter. It’s crazy. Absurd, and still you’re walking towards the door. Holding your hand over the handle, and then freezing.

Is it worth the risk now? Have you tortured yourself and waited long enough?

You have. Jerking the door open, you stand transfixed in the doorway, staring up at the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He couldn’t wait either. Meeting you at your door because he was needy for more. His azure eyes look more soft than predatory, “I don’t want to be too forward, but I don’t want you in the pool house. You seem so…”

”Far away?” He nods, holding his hand up for you to take. Glancing down, you grab the appendage, and pull him close to your chest.

“But I’m not fucking you. Poet will probably wake up in about twenty minutes. And I think you’re right, date first. But until the date, can you just sleep in the bed with me?”

He’s walking backwards, pulling you towards his own bedroom. “Can we do no sex?”

“Sweetheart, my cock has been aching to get back inside of you for months, what’s one more night? Or a few days? It’ll be what it’ll have to be, but I can’t have you away from me anymore. And we could get in a quickie, but the next time I’m inside of you, I’m going to take such sweet precious time. Because I know what it’s like to have to live without that sweet cunt, and now, I know what the woman is like.”

It’d have to wait. You’d have to wait. You’ve made it this far. He was worth it. A crazy night of picking up a man on the side of the road has led you to this incredible man with the sweetest daughter, and the possibility of forever.

“I think we’ll manage until our date. Should I warn you I sleep naked?”

“No. Absolutely not. You’re keeping those tits, and that ass covered, or I’m sucking on something until Poet wakes up.”

“Wanna bet?” You squeal, dropping his hand before running towards his door. Curtis rolls his eyes before chasing you. A playfully little romp around the yard to get out any extra annoying butterflies.

“I’m sucking or eating something if you sleep naked, you make your choice.”

“We’re sleeping!”

“Then all of that,” his hands sway over your body, “Has got to be covered,” you were only teasing. But seeing him having fun about sex sends a divine feeling of comfort all over your body. Sex shouldn’t just sweep you off your feet, it should be fun, playful, and wet, and passionate, but still fun.

“Deal. After the first date, I’m sleeping naked.”

“And I’ll fuck you asleep, and fuck you in your sleep,” he winks, walking into the room before you, “Come on, my lady. Let’s cuddle until the baby awakes. No touching. Just cuddling,” you can do that. And you look forward to it. All night. Every night.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@slowdownbeforeyouregretit @rogersbarber @evelineangel66 @steviebbboi

[imyourbratzdoll]

I can't stop thinking about lumberjack Ari/Curtis that built a huge library for his wife reader 🥹

She always complain that she has too many books but no space for them, so he turns one of their spare room into a library for her, he also put a little fireplace and this room has a big window that overlooks his workplace, it has a space to sit too so she can watch his husband at work while she read

He put a couch with some cozy and soft pillows and some blankets, and when they'll have kids, she'll pit a rocking chair too, so she can read to their baby 🥹 but in the meantime she reads for him in the evening before they go to bed

-🌻

hello baby! I'm so so sorry for taking so long to get to this request! but I do hope you like what I have written.

summary - your husband built you a library, and it's a dream come true for you.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Curtis clears his throat, gaining your attention from the book in your hands. You look up at him with a soft smile, “Can you follow me, honey? I have something to show you.” His hands are behind his back as he gestures with his head. You nod and place a bookmark in your book before gently placing it down and standing from your seat. You walk toward him and interlock his hands with your own, following as he leads you through the house to the empty room that you haven’t decided what to do with it yet. 

You look at him, confused, but he replies by opening the door, and a gasp falls from your lips. “Curtis?” You walk into the room and look around, shocked. He built you your very own library, which you drew up on a piece of paper once. You turn toward him with tears in your eyes, “You built me a library?” 

He nods, holding his breath, hoping your reaction is good. “You are always talking about how you don’t have any more room for your books, and I thought this would be a good place to keep them, and for the future when we have kids….” You grin widely, walking over to him and wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

“I love it, Curtis. Thank you, this means a lot.” You lean up on your tippy toes and press your lips against his. You let go of him and walk over to the shelf, picking one of his favourite books and sitting on the comfy chair, patting the spot next to you. “Why don’t we practice for when we have kids?”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[lilacevans]

𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘… 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜?

— lila’s secret project🤎

[feelinthefic]

A lot of people don’t know this, but this fic right here is what got me into reading fanfiction again. When I first found it (what feels like a lifetime ago) I was immediately sucked into it. The world building, the dialogue, the characters, all feel so authentic to the original movie while creating a new story. It turned me into a dedicated reader of Jamie’s work and is still one of my favorite fics to this day!

Out of Darkness Masterlist

Out of Darkness* (Curtis Everett x Reader) In Progress

A Snowpiercer tale where Curtis kept his arm and survived the crash as did other passengers from the front and tail. The reader is a worker in the greenhouse car and her luck goes from bad to worse when she tries to help other passengers, only to be captured by a gang of young, pillaging tail section men. When they take her to the man they consider their leader, did her situation get better - or much worse?

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

Middle of the Night Sex* (short) Complete

Don’t Make Me Wait* (short) Complete

Naptime* (short) Complete

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Balance ||

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

"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.