#curtis everett x black reader

[dc418writes]

✨Pairing✨: firefighter!Curtis Everettxblack,nanny!reader

Summary🪄: It’s hard to sleep when you’re worried sick (Dipped in Guilt addition)

⚠️: tiny bit of angst, mention of building being on fire, mention of death, fluff💕

*Disclaimer!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of photos used as they were all found via Pinterest*

All night they’ve shown the massive fire downtown currently engulfing one of the local grocery stores- the one you tended to frequent actually

No one knows how it started, according to the newscasters, but it didn’t take long to spread first filling the building with thick smoke

Luckily everyone made it out with the brave work of all the stations involved - including station 3

Where Curtis worked

Your heart sunk and hands became sweaty watching his uniform clad body run into the fiery building earlier. The “Everett” on his helmet bouncing as it briefly came into the overhead cameras view before he was gone in the wall of smoke and crimson-orange

Finn’s little whines were the distraction you needed, carefully unbuckling him from his high chair before gently bouncing him in your arms and patting his back. Immediately he begins to quiet lying his head in the crook of your neck

“It’s okay. Your dad’s gonna be fine.” You hoped

Multiple times you tried to will yourself into changing the channel and give your emotions a break, but every time you’d get sucked back in worried about Curtis

Everyone in the crew really, but Curtis tended to appear in your mind more frequently

Eventually you must’ve fallen asleep now being awoken by the front door shutting. Curtis now inside turning the locks and kicking off his boots with shoulders slightly sagged from his noticeable exhaustion

“Hey, you’re home,” you smile. More excited to see him safe than you probably should admit

“Yea,” he sighs moving towards the kitchen. “Finn was okay?”

“Yea, he ate all his food and knocked out a little after his bath.”

“Good.”

Red throw wrapped around your shoulders, your feet softly pad against the light hardwood to the island standing across from him pulling a beer from the fridge

“There’s leftover lasagna in there too. I-If you’re hungry.” He only hums with a slight nod taking a long swig from the glass bottle. His attention still somewhere else having not looked at you since he arrived

You start to think maybe you should leave him be, but deep down you don’t feel right leaving him alone. Especially not after tonight

“How’s the crew?,” you ask wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself

“They’re good. Jensen got a bit of smoke inhalation but he’ll be okay.”

You gently nod, “and you?”

“Not my first fire. Definitely not the worst one I’ve seen.”

“Doesn’t mean it has no effect though.”

He pauses for a moment letting your words sink in before lifting the bottle to his lips again. You were definitely right

As they rushed to the fire engine and hurriedly put on their equipment all he could think was if this could be his last. How he’d be leaving behind a son that barely knew him, his mother, and friends. You

He kept those thoughts and fears buried though so he could do his job, and well after that

When she was alive, his wife would try to pull it out of him but those efforts tended to be unsuccessful from his continued silence or mumbled, “I’m fine,” as he pecked her cheek or lips

Feeling something around his middle, he looks down to see the corners of the red blanket briefly covering his shirt before it’s gone and he hears you shuffle back a couple steps

“S-Sorry I…I know I overstepped..but I’m glad you’re okay. And I get it if you don’t want to talk.”

Just as you round the island, you hear the small clank of Curtis setting down his bottle as he turns to lean against the counter. Finally looking at you with tired, reddened eyes

“Mind uh..staying..for a while?,” he softly asks. And how could you say no when he’s looking at you like that? Clearly in need of someone, but either too proud - or maybe even scared - to reach out

You’re silent as you return to stand in front of him. His arms slightly opening to give you just enough room so you can step forward and press against him. Both of you wrapped in that red throw as you nuzzle into his chest and his chin rests on your head

For so long he’s been used to coming home and sleeping with the trauma’s of the day. Taking in your sweet scent and heartbeat against his skin is enough to have him break down right there finally having that intimacy again, but as usual he locks those feelings away.

The muffled “thanks,” slipping from his mouth while your hands glide along the ridges of his muscled back warm you better than any blanket ever could

“Anytime Curtis.”

[syntheticavenger]

Heart of Glass - Part Eight

Since it's been a year... I give you my latest installment. A little self-conscious with this chapter but I hope I got it right. Let me know what you think. I’d like to thank Victoria Monet’s ‘Cadillac’ for the inspiration for this chapter.

Heart of Glass Masterlist

Therapist! Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, unprotected sex, aftercare.

Word Count: 2.5K

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

Cameras flash, voices carrying over each other to get your attention. Curtis’ fingers are intertwined with yours, leading you through the small path allotted by security from the restaurant to the waiting car. The act of your hand in his own shouldn’t elicit such a reaction but the understanding that you’ve been touch starved more than you are willing to admit makes you grip his hand tighter.

He wastes no time opening the door for you, closing it while more people shout his name, the lights from the cameras lighting up the car.

“Fuckin’ vultures,” Curtis mutters when he finally gets in, looking at your face. “You alright?”

“I thought they’d be gone by now,” you admit, pressing your hand to your heart to feel your heart beating rapidly. “Does that happen every time you go out?”

“Only when I have a date so, no,” Curtis allows with a wink. “You ready to go?”

At your nod, he accelerates, the car shooting forward as he takes a tight turn, the velocity making you laugh as he heads toward the freeway.

“We’ll be home soon.”

You don’t admit how that makes your stomach flutter at the sound, especially since you know that it isn’t your home he’s mentioning.

-

When he helps you out of the car, he gives you a spin, letting you go before he closes the door behind you. Holding out his hand, you take it, Curtis leading you up the steps of his house.

Every single house looks like it could have been taken out of a magazine, an architect’s dream as you slightly look back, careful of your steps as you go up the stairs slowly. More importantly, you’re aware of he holds your hand in his own, his fingers warm against your own.

When he opens the door, your mouth parts in surprise, the entry like a bridge to the living room, a pond underneath the bridge.

“A pond?” you ask, Curtis standing behind you as you take a step forward to look. “How…”

“It was a surprise to me too when I saw the plans.”

When you get closer, koi fish swim to the surface as you lean over to look.

“A little surprise from my architect at the time. I take good care of these guys,” Curtis says. 

“Incredible.”

You can feel his eyes on you when you finally look at him as he nods for you to continue on. Going over the bridge, he’s behind you, your hands nearly touching when you glide your palms on the rails.

“It’s very fancy.”

“I’m more of a minimalist but they’re a nice touch,” he agrees, motioning to the right. “Kitchen is that way.”

Stainless steel appliances and black lacquered cabinets await you, everything carefully decorated when he turns on the light, taking off his shoes in a swift move, padding into the kitchen.

“Pick your poison,” he offers, heading to the built-in wet bar.

“I’ll have a scotch, please.”

“Scotch,” Curtis says with a raise of his eyebrow. “I would have taken you for a gin sort.”

“Gin?”

“Sophisticated. Architects have a way about them.”

“Like what?” you inquire, Curtis handing you your drink as he raises his to yours. The glasses clink slightly before he answers you.

“Complex without being overbearing.”

You take a sip, Curtis following suit.

“Complex,” you repeat. “That’s now how I would describe myself.”

“Then you’re not giving yourself enough credit. Complex doesn’t need to have a negative connotation. Everything about you is complex because you don’t outwardly offer your feelings.”

“I think I’ve been pretty open.”

He laughs at your comment, nodding in agreement.

“But the treatment that I offered, that was complex. Broke a few of my own set rules but it worked. You’re a complex woman and I find that insanely sexy.”

You swallow the last of your drink, seeing him take another sip.

“It’s a good thing that I was cured then. You won’t have to break any more of your rules,” you add, seeing him set down his glass.

“How would you know what other rules I’d be willing to break?”

Your mouth goes dry at his question, licking your lips as he cages you against the wall.

“I was guessing.”

“Hmm,” he replies, his eyes gazing at your body. “There’s only one way to find out. Can I touch you?”

You nod, almost too furiously for your good when he lowers himself down, his hands at your hips, his fingers sliding down the fabric of your dress and down to your bare skin. He doesn’t break eye contact with you, hands slipping under your dress as he pulls the fabric up. 

He leans in, kissing your thighs, your own hands rolling into fists as he inches closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. You can feel his breath, warm and dangerously close when he leans in, keeping you steady when his tongue finds your covered clit, applying just enough pressure for you to whimper.

“Satin is a nice touch,” he tells you, slipping thumbs under the band. “I wouldn’t want to ruin such a pretty pair but I need to see what I’ve been dreaming about.”

He pulls them down slowly, letting them pool at your feet, carefully lifting up each leg so that you’re finally free. The urge to hide from him, to hold your dress in place is overwhelming.

There is a hunger – a desire – in his eyes that you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.

You’re exposed to him, but it doesn’t matter, your eyes on his arms flexing when his thumb slowly swipes against your clit, back and forth until your hips move forward.

“Easy,” he warns gently, tasting you as you swallow hard. “Just like I thought. Amazing.”

You aren’t prepared for how his mouth feels, wet and hot as he’s gentle, learning you centimeter by centimeter, your fingernails scoring against his scalp. Your breath halts when his tongue laves over your clit, over and over until you forget to breathe again.

“You okay?”

Nodding, your head falls back against the wall when you feel his fingers ease up inside you.

Stretching, caressing keeping time with the tempo of his mouth on your clit.

“C…” 

There’s no use in trying to finish saying his name, your hands holding him in place as he brings you to the brink, your legs buckling before you feel him hold you up as you shatter.

“One so far,” he says, looking up at you with a sly smile. “We’re barely getting started.”

He stands up fluidly, your boldness peaking when you pull on his shirt to bring him closer.

“One of how many?” you ask, seeing his devious smile.

“That depends,” he replies. “How many do you want to give me?”

There’s no set number in your mind, only the want – need – to have him that propels you forward, your lips on his, tasting yourself that only spurns you to kiss him deeper as he takes control, his hand at the side of your neck, breaking the kiss to turn your head slightly, drawing your skin into his mouth as he sucks it gently but deep enough that you can feel the sweet pressure and sends shockwaves down to your belly.

“I’ll give you a choice,” he says, breaking the kiss. “Dress on or off before you go upstairs.”

You’ve never been exposed like this before, especially knowing the only thing you’ll be wearing are your heels.

Whatever you choose, you’ll know he’ll accept without question. The freedom to decide how you’ll end up in his bed may be insignificant to him – though you hope not – it feels freeing to know that he’s letting you make the decision.

Turning around, you hear it: the slight suck in of his breath, looking over your shoulder as your eyes plead silently for him to help you.

“Bold move,” he praises, his fingers unzipping your dress.

As it slips down your shoulders, his lips brush against the tops of your shoulders and at the back of your neck when it pools at your feet.

“Absolutely unreal,” Curtis says, taking your hand as he turns you around in a circle, his appreciative gaze making you even wetter than you thought possible.

“Up the stairs and to the left,” Curtis directs. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Every step you take, your insecurities come racing back. Despite every body being a good body, you’re aware of your own shortcomings, the ones you see in the mirror when the confident façade slips. You’re aware of how your hips sway, certain imperfections that you can only imagine will be amplified with you only wearing your black stilettos.

“You look absolutely perfect,” he says behind you, as if he’s reading your mind.

“I’ve never been this… exposed,” you whisper in the darkness, Curtis right behind you as you can feel his arousal, cradled right between your ass.

“I guessed since tt’s taking you a while to get up the stairs. Not that I’m complaining in the slightest,” he assures you, kissing your cheek. “But you���re going to kill me with that perfect view.”

A slight tap of his hand against your ass makes you involuntarily moan, gripping the banister for a moment as you look back at him.

“You’re dripping,” he says, his eyes wandering between your thighs. “Making a nice mess if I do say so myself.”

You finally reach the top of the stairs, the cool air doing nothing to stop the ache between your legs when you make the left toward his room. You’ll marvel at the work of his upstairs when you’re not thinking about how you’re going to get wrecked, Curtis pushing the door open for you as you step into his room.

Black silk sheets.

“It’s not fair, you know,” you finally say, turning your body to face him. “I’m the only one underdressed.”

“I don’t think I’d look as good as you do,” Curtis answers you, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “But I can oblige if you want.”

“I want to help.”

His hands lower to his sides, letting you take over to finish unbuttoning his shirt, your hands resting on his chest. Tattoos are etched on his chest, your fingers outlining them as you trail down, unbuckling his belt as you see his Adam’s apple bob, perspiration on his forehead.

“Am I going too slow?”

“You take all the time you need.”

His voice pulls at your core, hands deftly ridding him of his belt and then buttoning his slacks. He’s hard as a rock when you accidently brush against him, his composure strong as steel when you pull down his boxers and pants. His cock springs free, long and thick, your eyes dropping down to look at it appreciatively. Gone are the thoughts of finishing getting him undressed, your hand reaching out to touch him gently, fingers wrapping around the length of him, his eyes closing in response.

“How can you be so calm,” you whisper against him. “I can’t believe I’m…”

Pre-cum makes your grip slicker, his head tilting up as you kiss his throat, his hands going to your face as he kisses you, kicking off his pants. He walks you toward the bed, stopping right when you can feel the bed behind you.

When you reach to take the heels off, he shakes his head.

“I meant what I said. Heels on until I say so.”

-

He prides himself on self-control. He’s lasted this long with his wits about him, to know that patience is always much sweeter but he knows he can’t wait much longer when your sweet voice pitches as your thighs try to close together, his hands gripping them so you don’t use them as his earmuffs.

All he can think about is how gorgeous you look when you come apart - three times now - just by where he touches, learning your body as you react to his touch. Your lips are parted, chest rising and falling as your hands cover your breasts. It’s laughable for a moment if it wasn’t so excruciatingly painful how badly he wants to be inside you. Your legs are still over his shoulders, Curtis caressing your calves before he looks back at your swollen cunt.

“I’m not going to get enough of how good you taste.”

Your eyes are half lidded, mouth moving but no sound coming out when he carefully eases you off of him, gently removing your heels as they fall to the ground. He kisses your brow, your hands going to his neck to keep him in place.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he admits, his cock nestled between your legs.

“I need you,” you mouth, kissing him deeply and he swears your legs are opening wider when he reaches for the drawer. “I want to just feel you. I’m clean.”

You’re bartering, his smile against your lips as you kiss him again. You’re uninhibited, vulnerable and the progress you’ve made makes him greedy, a flash of possessive that he shuts out when he kisses down your neck.

“Me too but it’s still dangerous,” he warns gently, seeing you shake your head slowly, nodding to your arm.

“Implant. You can’t leave a legacy,” you tease, your eyes closing in bliss when he’s cradled against your entrance. “I want you, I’ve tried to ignore it but -”

That’s all he needs, inching slowly inside you as your fingernails score his back. You’re tight, wet and hot, gritting his teeth as he tries to maintain what shreds of composure he has left, reaching the hilt of you when you left out a soft whimper.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you murmur. “Just…”

“Big?”

He can tell you want to laugh at his joke but he knows the truth, seeing you finally relax before you urge him to move. You’re like a vise, his control slipping with every single thrust, your soft little noises urging him on.

He needs to see ore of you, rolling you onto your side, your thigh on his hip as the new angle makes your mouth drop open, exposing you in a way that makes your fingers give him better access.

You’re close, he can feel the way your silky walls squeeze him tighter, your incessant pleas for him not to stop only urging him on. He commits the way your pretty face looks to memory, knowing that you’ve fundamentally changed how he sees you – how your body reacts to him – and how freely you’ve given yourself to him.

“Fuck,” he grits out, keeping you in place as he cums, filling you as you cling to him.

“Oh god, I… oh, I…” you pant, not letting him go. “I can’t see straight.”

“We’re not done,” he promises, smoothing back your hair as he holds you close. “Not by a long shot, four.”

“Five,” you whisper against his lips, closing your eyes. 

-

Your eyes are barely open when you feel the slight dip in the bed, a glass of water in front of you.

“You need to drink something,” Curtis reminds you softly, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “I ran you a nice bath. Just waiting for you.”

“What time is it?”

“Two or three,” he answers, kissing your cheek.

“Mmm,” you mumble, eyes closing again. “I’ll get up if you come with me.”

“That was the plan.”

[kaismasterlist]

| 🩶: angst | 🩷: fluff | ♥️: smut | 🖤: dark |

Wrong Place, Right Time (Dark Burglar!Curtis Everett | Naive!Reader) 🖤

Pool Bratting With Daddies Andy, Ari, Lloyd, Ransom And Jake 🩷

Punishments And Aftercares With Daddies Andy, Ari, Lloyd, Ransom And Jake ❤️

Somnophilia with Daddies Ari, Andy, Lloyd, Ransom and Jensen ❤️

Sub drop with Daddies Ari, Andy, Lloyd, Ransom and Jensen 🩶🩷

You love a firm hand to keep you in place and comfort you with Daddy Andy of the 5 Daddies mix 🩷

You get sick but you hate the doctor and his healing remedies so Daddy!Ari Levinson/Andy Barber… 🩷

Sorry Brat (Continuation of Party Girl where you try and run from Daddy Ari) ❤️

Apology Boy (Paul Lahote | Human mate!You) ❤️

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

let’s go to a greek island because three men are in love with us and celebrate 5k

thank you all so so so much for 5000 followers! that is a super crazy number. like, wow. thank you all so much for being here, for reading my silly little stories and for always being so kind. I am unbelievably grateful for you all. this time will be a tiny bit different. not only will I hold a regular, fun celebration (this time in a mamma mia theme because why not? it's summer, it's fun) but I also just so happen to finish writing a story that I've been actively working on since january and thought that since I put so much love and time into it, it seemed fitting to share it as a part of this amazing celebration. here is a little schedule of when I'll be posting them, they are long and one hell of a read, I really hope you all like them ♡

friday (14/07) at 18:00 (CEST) - the murder at evergreen university

sunday (16/07) at 18:00 (CEST) - sour summer (an evergreen prequel)

this celebration will run from now till the 16 of july. anyone can participate and you can send in as many asks as you’d like, there is no limit.

if you need some prompts as Inspo for the request options, then try and click around on my sideblog @prompt-heaven where I keep a bunch of prompt lists very organised.

navigation | masterlist | request guidelines

fernando - games! (cast your mutuals, fuck marry kill, would you rather…)

lay all your love on me - tell me a random fact about yourself and I’ll say who I ship you with!

super trouper - i’ll give you an abba song that has your vibe!

angel eyes - send me a sfw request!

kisses of fire - send me a nsfw request!

when I kissed the teacher - request a moodboard! (it can be for a character, a prompt, word, name, colour or ask me to make one that fits the vibe of your blog) 

moots: @ddejavvu @oncasette @fightingdragonswithwho @angelulls @fxllfaiiry @prettyboyeddiemunson @cosmal @creelteeth @spencersfunkysocks @reidslovely @happyheidi @wonderlandhatter @spideyheart @appocalipse @skullrock @starlit-moonlight @chvoswxtch @lone-nyctophile @autumneverleigh @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @bruisedboys @midniteluv @solarluvs @ghostlyfleur @bcyhoods @vhagarlovebot @bradshawed @mystcldydrms @songs4themoon @katyswrites @strrawberrryjam @inkluvs

[cevansbrat0007]

This may be a little out of the blue BUT what about our trio couples and the below…….

39. When and how did they admit that they loved each other? If they haven’t yet, why?

🙏🏼

Daddy Andy and Baby Girl (Not from the GP-Universe): These two said those three magic words rather fast. While they had initially met at play party, they were actually on their third date when Andy dropped the bomb after a particularly contentious Boston Red Sox game.

He got into it with an overzealous fan after he spilled beer on Baby Girl. They started arguing, and then the guy took a swing at Andy. He missed, prompting his pal to try his luck - only to be surprised when our girl chest bumped his ass out of the way with some serious force.

Long story short, the two assholes were escorted out by security and while Andy and Baby Girl took the party out to the parking garage under the pretense of each needing to check the other for any...injuries.

Safe to say their "I love yous" came tumbling out while they were busy giving each other their second round of once-overs in the backseat of Andy's SUV.

Daddy Curtis and Ruby Like the couple above, these two fell for each other rather quickly as well. Curtis was a goner the moment he realized that Ruby was all he could think about after that one terrible night. All he could think to do was get to her.

Meanwhile, finding a fragile and wounded Curtis on her doorstep all this girl needed to push her over the edge. Something shifted inside her that night and she knew there was no going back. Just because it still took a couple of months for either of them to say the words out loud doesn't mean they didn't already know it deep down.

Daddy Ari and Story Ari and his gal are hands down the most stubborn of the trio of couples. They flirted and played, but refused to fully commit. Every time things between them threatened to get serious, one of them got cold feet.

The others were convinced it would stay that way forever, until a near death experience forced them to confront their feelings for one another. They've been inseparable ever since.

[shotgunbunny]

Blood, paint and cum

WC: 2k+ GIF by weheartchrisevans

[dark!stepbrother!Curtisx innocent!stepsister!Reader]

[Warnings!! Stepcest/abuse mentions/toxic/slut shaming/manipulation/Curtis being horny/smut!!!/breeding kink]

Curtis loved you from the second he saw you. He truly thought he had been blessed from heaven for tolerating his abusive father. And because he believed so heavily that you were his reward for his hard life he treasured you like one.

Which is why he currently had you bouncing on his cock, moaning his name while your tits bounced in his face. He couldn't help but his large hands on your delicate hips and push you further down, to the point his balls brushed against your ass. He knew it would be too much so he leaned into your chest and kissed until he found a nipple and began to suckle on it. Which you reacted by wrapping your arms around his buzzed head and whining all while arching your back, pushing your breasts further into his rugged face. In his dark mind this further solidified the idea you were from heaven, right now you looked like an angel and sounded like one too.

He couldn't help but pull away and put one of his big hands behind your head and push your lips together, swallowing your beautiful breathy moans into a kiss while he fucked up into you. The pleasure you both were feeling was intense, but that was what happened when lovers entangled there souls though sex. At least that's what Curtis said and you believed him because he knew everything.

He knew that even if you did get pregnant everything would be okay since you weren't actual siblings far from it, and because of that he was fine fucking his load into you everytime.

Just like he was now, you were squeezing his fat cock from cumming all over him, and he was so deep inside you, trying to make sure his cum stayed in you and took root.

"Did so good for me suga'."

"I-i did?"

"Yeah baby, ya' did. Fuckin' perfect for me, ya' know that baby?"

"Ofcourse I know that daddy."

When you two first met it was when you and your dad was moving into Curtis's mums house. It was a three bedroomed house and was on a very nice street where everything seemed perfect, especially in summer.

Curtis was sat in the kitchen wrapping his knuckles in bandages after his latest fight at the bar. You see where he worked there was always some asshole who came in and thought he was better than everyone. But yesterday one of these assholes flaunted their fake confidence infront of Curtis, resulting in him breaking their nose, and his bruising his knuckles.

His mum tutted at him constantly for retaliating with violence but he ignored it. He didn't need her lecturing him when all he could remember was her trying to calm her dad with words and him replying with a fist. He wouldn't let that happen ever again not this time.

Just as he was about to sit down the doorbell hummed and he looked up at his mum, expecting her to answer but she had her back turned and was beginning cooking dinner for everyone.

"I'll get that."

"Oh thank you darling!"

He was glad only in his loose grey joggey bottoms when he answered the door. Yet he didn't see anyone until he heard a small feminine cough. He looked down and there you were.

Small, dressed in a little pink dress, with a locket around your neck, and 2 boxes wrapped in paper that was printed with pink cupcakes on it. To say Curtis was awe struck wouldn't even be able to describe how he felt.

"H-hi there"

Your voice flossed his ears with how melodious it was. Fuck you were perfect. Ofcourse he would be getting the perfect woman as his fucking step sister. He took a breath and smiled down at you.

"Come on suga' do you wanna put those cute little presents in the kitchen along with yourself?"

You blushed and smiled, charming Curtis even more and making his cock start to harden a little too.

"I'd love to put the presents in the kitchen but I need to get my stuff!"

"Oh suga' I don't mind getting your stuff for ya'. You're too pretty to be carrying too much anyway. Come on in you go."

You giggled at him before you stepped in and then stood beside him. He couldn't help but try and seem more gentle to show he wasn't a big brute. He was drowning you in the doorway at a solid 6'7. He smiled down at you pointed the way to the kitchen. Just as he stepped outside you gently called his name to which he stopped and turned.

You leaned up and kissed his cheek and thanked him for his kindness before you skipped off to the kitchen. Leaving him dizzy with adoration and hard with arousal.

It took 3 months for you and Curtis to be bestfriends and you were happier than ever with him. He was so nice to you. Whenever you went shopping he always got your favourite cookies from the highest shelf and paid for them! He always made sure creeps stayed away from you!

And the best part was when he went to the carnival with his friends and came home with a small teddy bear;

"Just for you suga'. Cause you're my baby bear,"

You giggled at him and hugged the bear before hugging Curtis. Yet he wasn't happy with the space in the hug, so he bent down and grabbed the back of your thighs and made you jump up so your legs wrapped around him. You wrapped your arms around his big shoulders and whispered gently to him,

"Well then you're my big bear."

He chuckled and carried you to your room where he gently placed you and your prized toy before he kissed your forehead and said goodnight.

But in those 3 months you never had chance to decorate your room or even paint it! Luckily Curtis had a plan. And you were finally acting out on it!

Your parents were gone for the week for another honeymoon, and they left Curtis incharge. And Curtis decided he wanted to decorate your room and also make a peephole but you didn't need to know about that.

So when Curtis picked you up from college the very day your parents left, you let out a squeal of joy when you saw all the pink and white paint and all the cute fluffy things in the back of his car.

"Wow suga', you look great in my old clothes"

You giggled. When you both got home, you changed into old clothes that Curtis had so you could paint and not ruin your clothes. Luckily you just had to wear one of his shirts and they looked like a dress on you.

"Don't flatter me big bear! We have work to do!"

"Is that right baby bear?"

"Mhmm!"

And after a chuckle you began painting.

However as you got halfway through your room you got bored and decided to cause mischief. You dipped your roller in paint and rolled all along Curtis's back, to which he let out a dark chuckle. You were frozen when he slowly turned with his brush in hand and a playful gleam in his eye.

And the chase began, you both laughing trying to paint the other, when you finally got him back, he chased you and you were stuck against the wall in the blink of an eye. Curtis had been so fast that he had picked you up and pinned you against the wall so he was slot so comfortably between your thighs.

He chuckled and gently swiped a piece of paint from his thumb into your cheek. Yet all you could hear was your heartbeat and all you could feel was the paintbrush Curtis was holding between your legs where his crotch was. You were so caught up in the hardness that lingered against your cunt that you didn't notice yourself grinding against Curtis's bulge which you believed to be a paintbrush.

You were snapped out of this when he grabbed your chin with his paint covered hand and made you look at him, before he leaned down and kissed you.

You'd never been properly kissed before so this was truly a moment when you felt butterflies and tingles everywhere, all the while Curtis was trying to hold back fucking you against the half painted walls. So he pulled away and pecked your lips again smiling.

"Did you like that baby bear?"

"Yeah! It felt g-good Curtis."

"Good. You wanna do it more baby bear?"

"y-yeah"

"Then you gotta keep it a secret baby bear. You can't tell anyone what we do okay? If anyone finds out they'll think it was all your fault and that you're a slut."

At his words you teared up. You didn't want anyone thinking that! You weren't a slut, you were a good girl. You'd never do anything to warrant you being called a slut, so you agreed and with that you became Curtis's without even knowing.

After you had painted your room fully you had to wait for it to dry, and because of that Curtis had offered to share his bed with you.

Which is where you currently were. Wearing nothing but your cute pink panties and another one of Curtis's top, but this one was flannel. Not any flannel though, it was Curtis's favourite which is why you felt so special.

It was getting late and Curtis was cuddled up to you watching the TV with you. You were watching 50 shades of grey, a naughty movie that you always wanted to watch but never had the courage to. But thankfully Curtis had bullied you into it.

As the movie was getting more sexual, Curtis's hands began moving. You felt his big hand at the bottom of the flannel you were wearing and you felt tingles almost like you were anticipating something but you disregarded it and watched the movie. When suddenly he unbuttoned the bottom button. And then the next. Yet you didn't stop him. You didn't even stop him when his arm was across the valley of your breasts and his hand was unbuttoning the last button.

When he did the flannel fell open and you snuggled against Curtis, pushing your ass against his rock hard erection. He was in fucking heaven. He bet you had no idea that you were horny, and he honestly didn't give a fuck. You were his. And he was gonna fuck you. Tonight.

As you turned your attention back to the movie, Curtis shifted and began kissing your neck while his hand slowly went from your chest to your breast. He groped your tit groaning before he began playing with your nipple until it pebbled. All the while you were letting out weak little moans.

Curtis pushed your shoulder so you were laying with your back flat on the bed when he climbed on top of you and kissed you, still rubbing your tough peak. When he pulled away he leaned down to your forgotten breast and kissed it before he took your other nipple into his mouth suckling it and swirling his tongue around it until it peaked.

You were in heaven whatever you just felt was magical, and you were getting lost in the pleasure. You were so caught up in Curtis fondling your tits you didn't even notice him stripping your panties off. You gasped when you felt something wet lick you down there. When you peaked you saw Curtis looking at you hungrily with his face between you legs. Before you could even question him, he took your clit into his mouth and licked and sucked. You bucked up into his mouth.

All the while one of his hands was lazily playing with your nipple and the other had 2 fingers in your tight virgin cunt. He added another finger, stretching you when he felt you shaking and your liquid coating his tongue and finger.

While you were coming down from your peak you were heedless to see Curtis pulling his cock out of his boxers. If you did you would have said no purely due to the sheer size of him. He was thick and long all decorated with a pair of heavy balls and dark hair.

He moved the head of his cock up and down your slit. Bumping it against your clit and hissing at how you jerked from your sensitivity. He leaned down and kissed your cheek before he muffled the scream from you lips with his hand. He pushed his whole cock in you. Groaning at how tight you were and how well you hugged his cock. He stayed there with his head against your forehead and his cock kissing your cervix. He wiped your tears as he waited for you to adjust.

"This cunt is mine now baby bear. It's fucking mine. So goddam perfect. It's gonna feel good baby, and then you're gonna want my cock all the time suga'. You're gonna want daddies cock all the time."

At his words he felt you get wetter and he knew it was time. He slowly pulled out leaving the tip of his cock in and then pushed back in. Then he began setting a good pace thrusting into you and removing his hand from your mouth to hear your precious little moans.

"Such a good little baby huh? Taking my cock so good. Your little baby pussy is so fucking good that daddy just has to cum in it. You want that huh? You want daddy to mark your baby cunt with his cum yeah? Ofcourse you do, because daddy says so."

All those words were going over you head and all you could do was moan and babble about how stuffed you felt and that you were close.

Curtis could feel you were close and decided to push you by putting his fingers on your clit and circling it until he felt you start to tighten. He groaned as he felt you coat his cock and pubes with your cum and started fucking you fast. When his thrusts stuttered he unloaded his cum in you.

"Did so good baby. So fucking good."

After that first time you really were addicted to his cock. So addicted that here you were, 2 years later. Straddling his 6'7 frame with his cum leaking out of you after riding him. With his help ofcourse.

You didn't even know how he saw you playing with yourself from your room. Only that one moment you were playing with your clit and the next Curtis was slapping it and telling you off for playing with his cunt without his permission.

But despite how he knew what you were doing all the time you were happy. Curtis had recently bought a house for you and him but he said the catch was that if you wanted to live with him, you had to be his wife. And how could you refuse that. He was your protector and your big bear after all.

[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….

[galatially]

𝑎𝑟𝑖 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛

𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑒𝑟

𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑦𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛

𝑗𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑒

𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡

𝑗𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑏𝑦𝑛𝑒

𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑟

𝑏𝑟𝑦𝑐𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑦

𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟

[bookmarks-are-for-quitters]

🫦

crushcrushcrush

Summary: you just don’t know why things keep breaking. Well at least the cute handy man can fix everything.

Pairings: Bob the Builder Ass!Curtis Everett x short!female reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk, oral sex (m & f receiving), slight choking, degradation, unprotected sex, size kink

(A/N: this is my entry for @sunshinexsin’s Sunshine or Sin 1k Challenge. Titled after crushcrushcrush by Paramore. This is how reader and Bob the Builder Ass!Curtis Everett met. Not profess but what’s news about that. Like, follow, reblog with comment 💜 ✌🏾)

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“I think you’re breaking things on purpose.”

Now what would give him that idea. It’s not like what happened to the air conditioner had been on purpose. And you had no idea why the bathroom faucet had started getting leaking. And oops about the garbage disposal.

You didn’t mean to do it. Promise.

Sure the new maintenance man in your apartment building was fine as fuck. Hell maybe you’d even called your best friend over so she could get a good look at him. While also not letting your annoying roommate in on it, but you needed someone to squeal about it later with.

Then he came back because your garbage disposal was broken by “accident” of course. Hell you weren’t even wearing this short skirt for him. It was just something you threw on. It was cute.

So you started talking and he asked if you wanted to help by keeping him company and of course you weren’t gonna say no to that. He was so easy to talk to. Of course you were going to.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied with a shrug, looking up at with innocent eyes and biting your lip.

He’d just finished today’s job and had just finished packing everything up. Fuck he looked so that with that tool belt around his waist.

“Mhm, what’s it gonna be next time? Need me to change a light bulb?”

“Well, it would be way easier. You’re so much taller.” You smiled. “Ohh maybe next time I could make you lunch or something. You know to thank you for all your hard work.”

Curtis licked his lips and ran a hand over his short hair before chuckling. “Look, Honey, you’re very cute, but-“

“Think so?” You asked getting closer to him.

He licked the corner of his mouth and smiled. Shaking his head as he chuckled. “But,” he emphasized starting over again, “I don’t know if a little thing like you can handle a man like me.”

You raised an eyebrow. Looking up at him with a challenging look in your eyes. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I’ve hardly found any women that can.” He shrugged.

“I can give it a try,” you said putting your fingertips on the edges of the tool belt waiting for him. To make his move. Already feeling cock drunk before he could even do anything to you. He hadn’t even touched you yet.

Ugh there was just something so hot about him. With his bright blue eyes framed by those impossible long lashes and the little freckles that dusted his nose like a final touch. Pretty fucking lips. Fuck even his eyebrows were amazing! Your kids would be beautiful.

Not that you wanted that but then it was like would you be mad if it did? Probably not. Ugh see what he’s doing to you! You never would have had these thoughts about literally another guy.

Like the first time it was a good thing you’d at least worn cute leggings because you were completely fucking unprepared. He opened the door like, ‘hi I’m here to fix your air conditioner. I’m Curtis.’ And you honestly forgot words.

You wouldn’t say you embarrassed yourself too bad. Nothing more than tripping over words and giggling too much. Well and staring way too hard. But who could fucking blame you. Like he had to know what he looked like, right. Still. You didn’t wanna be a fucking creep.

Then the faucet in the bathroom got a leak. So he had to come back. Not your fault this luxury apartment had such problems being luxurious.

Ugh he looked so cute. Was wearing this blue shirt. It made your stomach tingle and you were honestly wet just looking at him.

So you texted your best friend to come over because she didn’t believe you last time. Then you kept looking over to check out his ass. At least you’d been more prepared this time and wore something way cuter. One of those sundresses that hugged your ass. It looked so good on you and he’d definitely noticed. Especially with the way he kept looking over at you.

Then the two of you started talking. He’d asked what you did for work and told him about your job and how you could choose to work from home anyway. Your friend was literally coming on her lunch break to be nosy as fuck. But then you kind of didn’t want her too with how he was talking to you. Ugh this man could so get it.

Then it was like you needed someone to understand what the fuck you were talking about. Like you’d needed reassurance that he was even real. You honestly weren’t sure, but it was too late.

“Shut the fuck up,” she mouthed at you as soon as the two of you got to see the handsome fucking man underneath the sink.

You nodded enthusiastically as if to say, ‘Bitch I tried to tell you.’

“Does he fix cars? Cuz suddenly my car has a… problem under the hood.”

You snorted out a laugh trying to keep quiet from him. “I’m sure it does.”

“Alright,” he said finally sitting up finally giving the both of you a good look at him. “That should do it.”

“Oh my god,” she gasped putting her hand over her heart.

When you say the two of you didn’t know how to act. You meant it. She’d brought a pizza over and he’d sat down with the two of you. It was all cute and fun and shit but she only gets an hour at lunch so she had to leave. Then you and him talked some more before he finally got up to go to another appointment.

You saw him around a lot more after that. Had seen each other at this bar while your friends watched some game. Had spent all night in a corner talking all low. He made sure to keep your drinks coming and then the two of you shared a plate of fries. It was so cute. Honestly felt like you were almost on a little date. He was so fucking cute.

Also your best friend kept being like bitch oh my god while all of your other friends were like wait who is that what’s your name, what’s your sign. Poor Curtis was blushing all through the night.

Was it not enough that he had to be impossibly hot? He had to be shy about it too. So damn annoying.

Then gold struck. And you decided fuck its time to go all in. Get dressed up a little better. Maybe a little thotty. Ya know just see what happens.

What happened to the garbage disposal wasn’t totally your fault anyway. Hell if anything the blame was placed firmly on your roommate. She was the one that was doing the dishes. She should have made sure there wasn’t a butter knife in the garbage disposal. See totally not your fault.

So he comes over. Looking fine as fuck once again in this white t-shirt and you wanted to bite his bicep. He should have not been able to look that fucking good with the barest of minimums.

Now you were here after spending all that time talking as you’d spent the whole time trying to show off your cleavage. You wonder what he would say if he saw that you weren’t wearing panties.

“Yeah?” He chuckled then tsk’d. Looking you up and down from the heels on your feet then up to your tits where his eyes lingered for a bit before going up to your eyes. “I dunno, Honey. You’re such a tiny little thing.” Then he stepped a little closer.

Fuck your pussy was clenching so hard just like yes please Daddy touch me. “Scared you’ll break me?” You teased.

“A little.”

“Don’t be.” You licked your lips.

Curtis looked away from you before letting out another chuckle. Shaking his head and sighing then catching you all the way off guard as drew his hand up with a snap to clamp around your neck.

So you stood there. Looking into his eyes after he’d made such a move. Lips parted waiting for his kiss. Feeling like you just got the wind sucked at of ya. Fuck you were so turned on it was ridiculous. There was no way this man could turn you out even more than he already had.

Then he turned you around in his arms so he could pull you tight against him. Free hand wrapping snug around your waist. “Don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you.”

“I can take it.” You promised in the smallest little voice. Dying to see his next move. You couldn’t believe you were in his arms like this. You just wanted him to violate you in the best/nastiest ways.

“Yeah you fucking better or I’ll make you,” he growled in your ear as he moved the two of you to the front of the couch taking his hold away so he could hurry up and remove his tool belt. “We could have gone out for coffee or a drink, but no you wanted to be a little fuckin’ tease.” He whispered in your ear. “Didn’t you.”

You nodded and he sat down taking you with him so you had to straddle on his lap putting you right over his crotch. Everything was happening so quick it was starting to get overwhelming. You only knew it was going to get worse.

“Goddam,” he whispered. “Gonna be a little slut for me, huh?”

“Fuck yeah.” You squeaked.

“So fucking hot.” He groaned. “You been waiting for this, huh?” His hand trailed up to your thigh, squeezing snd gripping at your flesh.

“Uh huh,” you breathed out slowly rocking your hips back and forth so you could try and make contact with his bulge. Fuck he felt so good already. And it felt so thick against him. Ugh.

“Last chance for you to change your mind,” he said whispering into your ear.

Instead you shook your head, taking in his fucking close he was. His breath on your face. Your thigh right over his cock. “Shut up and kiss me.”

From there it was like a fucking whirlwind. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Running your hands up and down his shoulders feeling up his muscles as much as you could.

And his lips holy fuck. You knew he was a good kisser with those pink pouty lips but you literally were not expecting it to be this ugh he just felt so fucking good. You can’t remember the last time you made out with someone so deep. Lips making the most obnoxious smacking sounds.

He finally pulled away so he could take his shirt off. Revealing that fucking chest you’d been dying to see and all his fucking tattoos. Was this man trying to kill you. Like yes daddy please what else are you hiding.

“C’mere,” he said laying you down snapping your hands up above your head. “You’re gonna do exactly what I want you to. You hear me?”

You nodded and bit your lips. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckled deeply and then flicked his tongue over your lips before kissing you lightly. Then stopped like he wanted to say something but all he could do was go back to kissing you. Raking your nails over his naked back. Fuck he felt so good being this close. You needed him.

Then he got. Taking you with him so you were wrapped around his waist. Knowing just where to go as he walked to your bedroom with your lips still attached to his.

Not even realizing where you were until your back touched your bed. You sat up really quickly to remove your shirt. Pulling it over your head and then quickly undoing your bra so you could toss it to the floor. “Pretty fucking tits.” He groaned before getting in front of you leaning down so he could kiss you. “And you didn’t wear panties?” He remarked.

You shook your head and giggled. “No.”

With that he dropped to his knees pushing your thighs up so your legs were dangling in the air as he got a good luck of your drenched pussy. “Goddamn,” he hissed before coming to kiss your thighs.

“Please.” You whimpered trying to keep your eyes on him. He just looked so damn pretty between your legs.

“Yeah? Want my mouth on you?” He asked. “Wanna be a little whore for me?”

Fuck. Yes. 

“Yes, please,” you whimpered.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy,” he hissed as he put his thumb against your clit and it was like that was only the beginning.

Ugh he was eating it like it was the last meal he get and you almost couldn’t believe this was really happening. Normally when a guy talked a big game, they didn’t bury their face in your pussy first.

“Fuck!” You cried, putting your legs over his shoulders. Looking in his eyes as he made out with it. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

“That’s fucking it!” He started rubbing his fingers against you a little harder. This man’s goal was to make you cum and you could tell you were right the fuck there.

You put your arms behind your back so you could raise your to look at him. Moans and sighs and filthy fucking words not stopping yourself as you started cumming. Damn this man should not be allowed to do all of this to you. Who allowed this to be legal.

“Fuck! Please,” you gasped.

He was making it so obscene. Just not stopping. Making these faces that ugh how did he still look so pretty like that. Fuck you needed to suck his cock.

“I want-“ you started out saying but he cut you off by hitting this spot that made your eyes go blurry and your leg shake. “Don’t fucking stop.” You gasped. “Don’t. Right there. Like you’re right there.” You cried as you put your hand on the back of his head, grinding your hips up.

With his fingers moving in and out of you, he looked up, but didn’t move from where he was. “Here?” He asked against your labia as he kept curling his digits right in that fucking spot.

You nodded just as this other one came. Hitting you again but making you lay back because you just… couldn’t. You were pretty sure you knew the meaning of life now. What woman wouldn’t fucking want this.

He stood up. Hurrying as he hurried up to undo his pants and pull them along with his boxers down. Showing you exactly why some women were scared to handle it.

What were you even supposed to do first. Suck it. Tell him to fuck your pussy until you squirted all over it. Was anal too soon?

Then he grabbed your face to kiss you some more. Making you taste what he’d just done to you on your tongue. Fuck it was so yummy. He was so fucking yummy.

Before you could get your thots together he put his tip right at your entrance. “Don’t worry. We can do all that other shit later, Baby.”

Shit. Did you say all of that out loud.

“Already want me to fuck that ass huh.” He talked so low as his mouth went to your tits. Sucking on your nipples as he stroked his cock against you. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to it”

With that he at least started to push the head in a little. Making you let out another cry as he stretched out your opening. “Fuck.”

“I got you, Baby. I’m not gonna hurt you on the first time. Gonna treat this pussy so good, okay? Make sure you can take it.”

“Okay,” you sobbed as he shallowly thrust into you. Rocking his hips so fucking right and he wasn’t even like in you as far as he could go.

“You’re okay. I got you. Don’t worry. See I’m-,” he cut himself off, “shit so fucking tight,” he groaned under his breath as he forced it in a little deeper, “gonna take it easy on you,” he finished.

Oh god if this was taking it easy what the fuck was not going easy. You felt like he was about to split you in fucking half and yet you did not want him to stop. You never wanted him to fucking stop.

He pumped his cock in and out of you. Still keeping an even pace. Going easy like he said he would but he was so big that it was like it didn’t matter. Like he was able to force into that spot again and it just… “Ah!” You cried out not being able to help it. What the fuck was he doing and why had no one else done this to you before.

He started kissing you again. Deeply. Sensually. Like he was trying to take complete ownership over you. Not only was he deep in your pussy, stretching it out and everything, he was also kissing you like he was tongue fucking your mouth.

“Faster,” you squeaked. “Please?”

He changed the pace of his hips after. So close as he started to fuck you just so right. His dick feeling so invasive in the best ways.

“Take me so good in your tight little cunt,” he whispered in your ear making your face feel hot. “Gonna keep fucking you whenever I want. Make you into my own little cum rag.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whined. “Oh, please.”

“Yeah you like that shit don’t you. Knew exactly what you were getting yourself into,” he said into your ear. “What you wanted.”

“God yes.”

“Tell me what you wanted, Baby.”

“For you to be Daddy,” you whimpered out your confession.

“Yeah? I’ll be your daddy.” He grunted. “Should have known you were a fucking slut when you wore those leggings that first day. Had me staring at your ass the whole time. I think you know what you were doing.”

You didn’t but fuck at least be thought you did. At least be like it. Fuck he felt so good. Fuck it was exactly what you’d needed. Exactly what you thought it would be. Fuck you were gonna cum again. Gonna cum on this thick fucking cock. “I’m fucking cumming!” You gasped.

“That’s it. Don’t fucking stop. Keep going. Wanna have you gushing. Make you make a mess.” He hissed as he reached between the two of you so he could find your clit and fuck it was like as soon as his fingers touched the nub you were seeing the heavens and stars and rainbows and sparkles. This man really had the nerve to come into your home looking like that with a dick like this.

And he didn’t even stop. If anything he got a little rougher. Snapping his hips so he was so fucking deep. It felt like you were going to fucking cum hard on that dick over and over again.

It was clear that he was trying to force it out of you. Over and over and over and over. Goddamn it felt so good. He was making it hurt so fucking good.

Putting you in all these positions. Like on your hands and knees to making you ride him then you took a break to use the bathroom and he just fucked you against a wall when you came back as if he couldn’t wait to get his dick in you again. It was wonderful.

If this was going easy you were kind of afraid to see what going rough meant. You were fucking exhausted and he still hadn’t even cum. So like any good girl you got to work. Putting your mouth on him getting to work gobbling all of it up. Fuck his dick was so yummy in your mouth.

“Fuck, you trying to gulp me up?” He asked with a groan.

“Mhm,” you hummed around him then you started going to a little further trying to get as deep as you could go working the rest of it with your hands.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head, trying to push you down a little further making you gag a little. “Fuck, Baby. Gonna cum in that mouth.” He groaned with a deep breath as his stomach started to tense.

You hate that you hadn’t gotten the chance to really explore his body, but you promised yourself you’d get well aquatinted with his abs soon. It was just the way they were twitching as he started to finally let go was mesmerizing. Only a little less so then his eyes which you quickly found yourself hypnotized by next.

“Y/N, Baby, fuck.” He groaned as he started to fill your mouth. It was so much you were struggled to swallow it down. Making it drool from your mouth to your tits.

As you came to lay in the crook of his arm he let out a big breath before pulling you in close. You settled into his warmth then he rolled over so he could wrap his arms around you. Making you out your head into his neck. Kissing your cheek before flexing his muscles letting you get really in there.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Uh huh.” You yawned. Fuck he was cozy too.

“Good,” he whispered in your ear before placing a kiss on your earlobe. “You better rest up. I’m not done with you.”

This man is a menace.

You’re pretty sure you’re in love.

[dc418writes]

Dipped in Guilt

✨Pairing✨: firefighter!Curtis Everettxblack!reader (+ a few special guests)

Summary🪄: Tis the season for drama and pain

⚠️: bit of angst, lil fluff, teensy bit of a suggestive content, language (one word though), mention of death and mourning

A/N🎙️: So this is a bit of a sneak peak (in the form of a cute Christmas imagine☺️) to a new story I’ve been thinking about and I hope you guys like it!

*Disclaimer!: although collage is made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP to pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest*

A smile curls along your lips entering the fire station bustling with foster children of all ages. The group of teens and older kids sat on the leather couch focused on their respective characters racing in karts up on the flatscreen. The smaller ones either running around or playing with their toys on the glossy floor.

“Let’s see if we can find your dad, huh Finn?,” you state gently bouncing the quiet one-year-old in your arms. He’s busy being entranced by the hanging lights and other decorations around the pristine and shining station. Drool dripping to his t-shirt while he gnaws on his tiny fingers and occasionally reaches with his free hand towards the twinkling Christmas tree.

“Looking for someone?,” a voice asks making you quickly turn around to the slender man with movie star good looks dressed as an elf.

His charming smile was inviting along with his bright blue eyes gazing down at you - and along your body. You couldn’t help but do the same as his forest green costume left nothing to the imagination when it came to his toned arms and legs.

“Um yea, Curtis actually.”

“Hm, now that can’t be right. You said Curtis, but I know you’re looking for me,” he smirks.

“Uh huh..and who are you?,” you playfully ask.

“Johnny Storm, but everyone calls me Torch.”

“Why Torch?”

“Because everywhere I go, I tend to leave a mark,” he winks causing a bashful curl of your lips as you embarrassingly struggle for your next words.

“Y/N!,” Ari greets in an elf suit of his own that struggles but somehow stays intact over his burly form. His hand claps Johnny on the shoulder before jostling him a bit as if it’s a signal or message only meant for him. “Nice to see you and little man.”

“Hi Ari! Have you seen Curtis around?”

“Towards the back helping pack up gifts. He too is an overgrown elf so you can’t miss him.”

“Oh okay thanks. I guess we’ll see you guys later,” you smile securing Finn’s diaper bag on your shoulder before turning to walk away.

“Call if you need me,” Johnny calls after you with a tilted smile. His shoulder gets another firm squeeze making him painfully groan. “What?!”

“Not her, alright?”

“And why not?”

“That’s Curtis’s nanny, so lay off. For him,” Ari lowly whispers.

“What? Afraid the old man can’t handle some friendly competition?,” Johnny smirks once more puffing his chest. It only makes Ari chuckle though.

“Look Storm, you can have any other woman in this town just not that one. Now I warned you once. Next time it may not be me in your face.”

-

Boots clicking along the floor, you eventually find Curtis lifting two little girls - one in each arm - to grab two candy canes from the ornately decorated Christmas tree covered in gleaming ornaments. All of them smiling as the girls giggled while being gently placed back down.

“Santa wanted me to make sure you two got those. They’re specially made with extra sugar since he said you’re so sweet.”

“Thank you!,” they cheerily reply before running to join their friends as they squealed about Santa and his helper.

Having his back to you, it’s impossible not to gaze at the muscles in his back moving as he placed donated gifts in a large, Santa-like sack. His biceps and triceps bulging so, you just knew the sleeves would rip soon.

“The ears honestly aren’t a bad look,” you joke making him turn towards you and baby Finn. His expression not exactly what you were expecting though, looking as if you weren’t supposed to be there.

“Y/N..what are you doing here?”

“Jake told us about the toy drive and how the crew’s families always come too for help and support. I thought we’d surprise you and try to contribute.”

“You didn’t have to,” he shortly replies taking the small gift bags from your hand after bending down to kiss his son’s chubby cheek. He eagerly wiggles in response with a wide smile displaying his incoming tooth, making Curtis briefly smile.

“I know, but Finn wanted to see his dad,” you grin kissing his palm that reaches for your hoop earring. “Plus with Santa being here, I figured you guys could take your pictures.”

“What if I didn’t want him to take pictures?” Luckily no one was around to feel how tense the air was becoming. Witness your mood noticeably fall and how foolish you currently felt.

“W-Well you talked about how she wanted it to be a tradition so-,”

“You took it upon yourself to try and set it up, rather than waiting on me - his father - to do so when I wanted it done,” he interrupts in a tone so berating you can feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “You’re the nanny Y/N, not his mother!”

His words hit deeper than you expected, feeling a crack climb down the center of your heart that steals your breath. You knew you weren’t Finn’s mother. You were just trying to help.

“We’ll just go back home then,” you speak barely above a whisper. “S-Sorry if I overstepped.” A squeak of an apology leaves your lips again nearly bumping into Steve trying to escape the station as quickly as you could. And mentally swearing never to come again along the way.

His crystalline blues sympathetically watch you maneuver through the crowd of kids before shifting to his crew mate with hands resting on his hips. “Curtis-,”

“Stay out of it Steve,” he gruffly replies concerned with filling the second sack.

“She doesn’t deserve to be treated like that! And we both know your little attitude isn’t about some dumb picture!”

Turning around, Curtis’s stance is poised for a fight whether started or finished by him. His nostrils flare blowing warm air on Steve - equally frustrated - as the two men stand in each other’s personal space with glares that would have the toughest faltering.

“You don’t want her here because then you have to face your true feelings. No more playing cute inside the safety of your home and pretending it’s something else in public. And what’s even more messed up, is she doesn’t even know that’s the real reason behind all this. Probably thinks you hate her when all she’s trying to do is help you and your son.”

“You don’t know shit Rogers,” Curtis grits.

“You’re wrong Curtis and you know it,” he states before walking off to help with clean up and leaving Curtis with your glossy eyes stuck in his mind.

-

Everything’s silent and dark when he enters his home. After finishing packing up gifts for each foster home that came, sweeping crumbs, and discarding cups left on tables, he didn’t make it back until a little after nine. He saw you put Finn to bed via the baby monitor linked to his phone before tidying up his toys from the living room and the dishes left in the sink.

The past few weeks, you’d made it a habit to wait up for him - which always had a smile creeping along his face when he was in the confines of his room. It might sound crazy, but it made his house feel like a home again.

Made that hole in his heart a little more bearable knowing someone was waiting for him.

However tonight, you’re body isn’t snuggled under a blanket watching some Hallmark movie. Or reading a book that has your attention in such a stronghold, you get startled realizing he’s standing beside you with an amused grin. You’re more than likely in your room actively avoiding him, and he can’t blame you.

Boots lightly thudding against the carpeted floor, he pauses seeing the light from your lamp glow under your door to the hall. Your faint sniffles making him sigh to himself, wondering if he should just leave you alone and try this again later.

“Y/N,” his knuckles lightly knock against your door, “can we talk?”

At first there’s only silence, which he took as your answer. Again, he couldn’t fault you for your choice.

He was nearly ready to walk away when your door slowly opened to reveal your eyes tinted red - along with the tip of your nose. “She must’ve tried to wash it all away while I was waiting,” he thinks.

“Thought we talked enough at the station,” you reply opening the door wide enough so he could come in.

Maybe he should’ve saved this for the morning, or just stayed on the other side of the door. You standing there in those tiny plaid pajama shorts that fell just below your butt cheeks and called attention to your model-esque legs were only made to distract him. And not to mention your matching white tank that did nothing to conceal your chest and nipples poking through just begging to be kissed, licked, and plucked. He needed to get this out now before he combusts.

“Y/N, I’m-,”

“What did I do to make you hate me so much?,” you ask with more tears threatening to spill over. “Did I say something? O-Or not do something?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then what? Because I’m really trying my best here Curtis.”

“I know you are.” He steps closer shutting the door behind him.

“M-Maybe I shouldn’t have moved in. Or you just need to look in a different-,”

You’re unable to finish your sentence as his palms find your cheeks bringing your mouth to his. His tongue caressing yours and lips moving with so much passion and vigor you can’t help but moan leaning into him more. How were his movements so gentle - his left hand drifting down to grip your hip and somehow twisting your body so you were sat on your vanity - yet making you heat from the inside out? Making you addicted already as your fingers clutched the front of his gray tee not ever wanting to let go.

Wait..no this was wrong. The small part of your brain not clouded by fuzzy haze remembered the words he spat at you. His tone that made you feel like a scolded child. He couldn’t treat you like that then kiss you as if he were a soldier home from war.

You wouldn’t let him play with your emotions or body like that.

“Stop,” you whisper out of breath; pushing away with your hand now pressed to the front of his throat. Your doe-like brown eyes try to search his for some type of answers, but you’re just left confused. “You can’t just come and-,”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathes stealing a peck from your tingling lips. You tried turning your face to dodge his second attempt, but his mouth was like a crimson flame flickering beautifully in the darkness of night. And yours the unfortunate moth unable to turn away. “It’s just..I’m frustrated with myself. I’m still supposed to be mourning. Stay loyal to my wife…but every day I spend with you, that sadness goes away. The obligation to sit and sulk disappears along with the little things about her, like her smell and whether she liked tea or coffee more. It’s all being taken up by you..a-and I don’t mind.”

You wipe the tears from his cheeks and lush beard trying to keep your own at bay. It’s proven difficult, hearing his broken sobs as his head falls to your shoulder whispering apology after apology into your skin. Instinctively, your hand rubs along his back kissing along the top of his head trying to calm his cries. But what more could you say to this man who just confessed his feelings for you that were overshadowed by guilt?

“Would…would it be better if I-?,”

“No, don’t leave,” he sniffs one final time before lifting his head. His right fist on the painted wood while his left hand found the side of your neck with thumb running along your jaw. “Finn needs you. I need you.”

Taglist: @celestianstars @stargirlfics @fumbling-fanfics @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @adoreyouusugar @lovebittenbyevans @royalwriteroftheuniverse @theartisticqueen @chrisevans-world @literaturelove @ivorylei @elrw24 @pono-pura-vida @yinx1 @justile @sunsetfreedom05 @jackiekae @luvingmyships @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @bekinds @maxcullen @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

4k fic recommendations

thank you all so so much for 4000 followers! truly, that's wild! unfortunately I don't have the time right now to do the usual fun, big celebration, but I do have time to scrounge up some fics I've been loving lately/just ones that are on my mind, show them a little bit of love. other then that, I hope you all are having a wonderful morning, afternoon or night, sending you all a bunch of smooches in the form of recommending some fun reads ♡

the bodyguard by @chvoswxtch (bodyguard!frank castle x reader, series, still ongoing)

I love this series. every time a new part comes out I genuinely get so excited! I also low-key feel so spoiled because I know court and she tells me a bunch of secrets about things she wants to play with in this story... love you court. thank you for blessing us with this amazing AU.

why are you scared? by @onsunnyside (stepbrother!curtis everett x innocent!reader)

yes, this was a halloween fic but I still think about it to this day. I only have one question for you, do you like somno? are you a little somno hoe? if so, might I recommend this nasty little piece of fiction because DAMN! like all of sonny's works, this is just the purest of filth and we love that here. (also her life has been pretty busy lately, so I just hope she's okay. hope you're okay, darling. miss seeing your beautiful little stories on this mess of a website)

your head is so numb (that nervous breath you try to hide) by @oncasette (eddie munson x reader)

best friends to lovers is actually something that can be so personal. I gobble that shit up every time. (also just hey roma. get over here, let me give you a lil smooch♡)

reader being like a little crow blurb by @appocalipse (eddie munson x reader)

idk what to tell you, this is actually just the cutest ♡

this blurb by @solarluvs (peter parker x clumsy!reader)

PETER AND CLUMSY!READER! THIS IS THE KIND OF ROMCOM I NEED IN MY LIFE!!!!

sirius doesn't want you to leave for work by @bruisedboys (sirius black x reader)

in this house, we worship adorable little domestic tales like this.

[cevansbrat0007]

...all the trio girls sync up (their periods) and decide to camp out in one house without telling their partners because they've decided their boys are being too mean

FYI, I have written this down for future ideas. I just love it so much. Because that is exactly something they would do. Those poor Daddies have no idea what they're in for.

[shotgunbunny]

Imagine if curtis is a criminal/outlaw (roberry, murdering enemies typa shit) and he’s running thru the streets from the cops. He spots your house with the window open nd he jumps thru and finds you laying on your bed using ur vibrator 🫣🫣🫣 and you both end up having some good ass sex while the cops are out lookin for him lol

Nomad!Curtis is such a daddy I frothed over this idea😩 sex with Curtis is always good bestie😏 he's a big beefy man that is obsessed with you what's not to love

༻𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮༺

[warnings!!smut!!dubcon!! murder!!breeding kink!!size kink!! masterbation!!6'5 Curtis!! Nomad! Curtis!! Dark! Curtis!!]

You'd seen it on the news, a man on the run after killing the senator. Everyone was either incredibly happy or was incredibly sad. The senator was advertised as an ideal man for the rich while the poor saw him as a cruel man. You fell into the type where you saw him as cruel. Seconds later a text from your friend snapped you out of the breaking news.

he is so fit! he can't go to prison :(

haha ye.

You replied dryily, not because you disagreed. No rather the fact that you didn't want to be involved in anything political scared that the police might read your texts and arrest you for joining the revolution that was dawning.

You will admit the man was very attractive, well as far as you could see. They had only shown you a blurry clip of the man. He had shaved head and a sharp jawline that was further enhanced by his beard. He was muscular as well, you could tell from the strain in the bicep area of his shirt. Apparently he was 6'5, so many kept an eye out for a tall man.

You sighed and turned the TV off, and headed to bed. It had been an exhausting day. Working at kindergarten was fun but the children and the work could drain you, just like it had today. Too many loud children and little amounts of sleep never mixed well, so you decided to sleep.

As you got changed into your oversized shirt and comfy panties, you layed on your bed staring at the ceiling. Sleep wasn't finding you easy so you had to go to extreme measures. You pulled your vibrator out and took your clothes off. Needing to be fully relaxed to do this. You felt a cold breeze sweep around your room and your goosebumps raised while your nipples hardened. You couldn't be bothered closing your window so you decided to ignore it.

You chose a video to watch and when you found one that consisted of a tall man pounding a smaller woman, you clicked your vibrator on. You opened your mouth already feeling pleasure the second your vibe touched your clit. You lost yourself into a fantasy of a tall man fucking you silly and pressed your vibe harder against you clit. You hole was pulsing begging for something to be in it.

"Ehem." A deep voice surrounded your room and you turned your phone off and clicked you vibe off. You pulled your blankets all the way up and stared at the large, bulky form in your room. You let out a gasp about to scream, when the man moved fast and placed his large hand over your mouth.

You stared into his eyes. An ocean of pain hidden behind the pretty blue. You recognized this was Curtis. The murderer that was on the run. You eyes widened and he narrowed his eyes at you, you pussy getting wetter at how dark and mysterious he was.

"Listen flower, when I take my hand away, you won't say a thing got it?" You nodded your head and he peeled his hand away and stared at you. At smirk spread across his lips and you were in awe at how domainating he could be. You squeezed your thighs together, Curtis stared and watched the shuffling of the sheets from your trying to stop your pussy weeping.

"I didn't mean to disturb my little flower. By all means continue." You stared at him mouth agape. "W-what?" He got up and dragged the chair in the corner of your room to right in front of your bed. "Play with your pretty little cunt for me flower. Help relieve my stress baby." You weren't even thinking as you slowly pulled your blanket down showing him your breasts and then your weeping cunt. He let out a groan as you sat on top of your sheets and spread your legs.

You grabbed your vibe and turned it back on. This time everything was more intense. The forbidden nature of a man on the run watching you abuse your clit was making both you and your pussy drool. "That's it flower. Look at how juicy your cunt is. God makin me fucking hard as rock. What's your name flower?"

You whined your name at him only getting a deep hum back. You heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down and stared as Curtis got up. Pulled his trousers and boxers down and revealed his hard cock to you. He moaned your name as he stared at your pussy. "Fuck look at how tight you hole is, it's fuckin beggin me to plug it up with my cock flower." Your toes curled as your climax came closer, "You like that, you want me to fuck you little flower. Want me to make you my little woman huh?" His dirty words and the vibrations on your clit made you explode and you felt the bed shift and your vibe being wripped from your hands and thrown somewhere in the room.

You felt the tip of his cock sliding up and down your pussy lips before he sunk himself all the way in. He groaned as his balls reached your ass. He leaned down and stared at you, brushing your hair out of your face. "So fuckin' pretty you know that. Used to watch you, when you came into the bar dressed all pretty. Fuck now you're all mine." Before you could even ask what he meant with his cryptic words he pressed his lips to yours.

He swirled his tongue around in your mouth and you moaned as you felt his calloused hand travel up to your breasts and play with your nipples. He pinched them and rolled them groaning into your mouth and drowning out your moans. He pulled away, a line of spit connecting the two of you and he took your other nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard and flicked it with his tongue. He pulled away a smirk on his lips. He pulled his cock out so only the tip was left in and thrust back in. Your eyes fell into the back of your head and your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. You needed to hold onto the mountain of a man or else you'd fall out of the bed from how hard his thrusts were. You wrapped your legs around his waist.

You felt so small and his cock felt so delicious, you were in heaven. When suddenly you saw police lights you cunt clenched around him in fear and he groaned and burried his head in the crook of your neck, still thrusting his cock in you. "Be a good girl and ignore the police flower. Don't want them catching you being fucked by the big bad wolf." He whispered his words through harsh hisses and you could feel your climax growing.

He clumsily placed his calloused hand on your clit and began rubbing frantically. "Come on flower, fuckin cum around the bad man's cock. I'll fill you up, I'm gonna fuckin' knock your pretty ass up. And then I'm gonna take you with me. Gonna be my little wife." You whined you brain long gone and your pussy taking charge instead. You didn't hear his promises, you just felt your orgasm growing closer and closer.

"Gonna make you sit on my cock all the time, gonna have you stuffed all the time too. So be a good. Little. Flower. And. Cum." Your eyes rolled back and you pulled your legs down more, trapping Curtis in your hold. You coated his cock with a cry. Soon followed by a stuttered groan that left Curtis's mouth. You felt something coat your walls and you fell back onto the bed exhausted. You closed your eyes as Curtis leaned down and kissed your head. Whispering promises about keeping you safe and how he'll always take care of you and your future kids.

[buckets-and-trees]

Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for a long time. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond what you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your fingers over the delicate skin between your wrist and up toward the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your other wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, and I've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

read the next part: TAKING YOU HOME

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[lilacevans]

༊*·˚ main materlist | pete's place's opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* ೃ⁀➷ pairings & future pairings: pete brenner x female!reader. lloyd hansen x female!reader. ari levinson x female!reader. curtis everett x female!reader. steve rogers x female!reader. jake jensen x female!reader. (and others that will be revealed at a later date.)

word count: 1026 | series rating: explicit. ༊*·˚

warnings: implied abusive relationship, homelessness, alcohol, general sadness.

this is a dark au. minors are not welcome here.

✧.* ೃ⁀➷ notes: the intro is here!! it's here!! i proof read as much as i could, however some mistakes may remain. i was gonna share a little more, but i think this is perfect for setting up the first chapter! i'm so excited to share this with you! please let me know what you think! reblogs save lives! mwah! enjoy!!

A year after you packed brown boxes scrawled with black ink, clothes stuffed into various bags, and the hope of true love, into the back of your car, to move across the country to live with your ex-boyfriend, you find yourself one night in a heart pounding screaming match.

Thrown dishes, broken glass, picture frames on the floor. The remnants of a lost love etched by the sounds of your cries into the tattered walls of the home you shared.

With pleading cries, tear stained cheeks, and heart in your throat, you’re grabbed and shoved out the door in nothing but a pair of sweats, and shirt with a coat being darted at you whilst you laid on the ground. One too many hours were spent afterwards pounding your fists against the front door, begging  to at least have your purse so you can get a hotel room. 

Just as you were about to leave, looking down at your battered, red hands, your purse was dropped out of a window; the contents spilled onto the grass below. With a sigh, either sadness or relief; you weren't sure which, you bent to pick up your scattered belongings, cursing the man during. 

Luckily, you had everything you needed; cash, ID, and your shitty, overused phone. 

You called around for a cab, numb fingers shaking as you pressed the blurry numbers, but with it being Friday night, you were looking at a long wait so instead, you decided to cut your losses and walk to find the nearest hotel. 

The downside of moving, and being essentially trapped within the same four walls for months on end, is that you quickly found yourself lost– and being lost on Skid Row was the last place you wanted to be.

You willed your tears to not fall after you walked by tent after tent, stranger after stranger, clutching your purse tight, old key’s spread between your fingers, and finally found yourself outside the Hotel Cecil. You laughed to yourself in disbelief of having to head inside and get a room; but nonetheless, you did just that. 

Lying on a dingy bedspread, surrounded by more nicotine-stained walls, you muffled your cries behind your hands and slowly fell into a sombre slumber and wondered just how the fuck you had gotten yourself here. 

Over the next few days, you walked around, getting to know your surroundings and applying for jobs left and right. You were forced to ration your food while you looked around for cheaper hotel rooms. You were trying your hardest to avoid the sprawls of clubs begging for dancers but after finding yourself downtrodden after applying for yet another job and getting immediately dismissed, and not having any luck finding a cheaper room, you walked back to your grubby hotel and bump— quite literally— into two drunk guys. 

‘’Ooh, one of Pete’s girls,’’ The guy slurred while his eyes glazed filthily over your body making you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself. 

‘’I don’t know who that is and I’m certainly not one of anyone's girls,’’ You defend, slowly backing away as the guy then sighs and points behind you. 

‘’Well, you’d sure fit in with the rest of ‘em.’’ 

With that, the men carried on with their drunken journey while you left bewildered. 

You shook your head and turned to carry on home when you were suddenly blinded by a huge, purple neon sign:

Pete’s Place.

Underneath a small notice hung from the sign read: Dancers Apply Within. 

You looked around and whined quietly while you watched patron after patron enter the club. Two heavily built doormen eyed you. You shook out your bundling nerves, hung your head and followed the thump of the bass into the belly of the seedy club. Red and purple hues guided you into the belly of the club where you found red booths filled with drunk bodies that circled small stages. Girls with perfect form swirled around the pole, capturing the attention of everyone inside. 

‘’And who might you be?’’

You turned to find a man staring intensely, glass warm in hand, sharp suit and sea-blue eyes. Your mouth hung, mind blank for a moment before sputtering out,

‘’Oh, I–  I’m looking for the owner– I was hoping to… Audition…’’ You trailed off as the man began to circle you, fingers pried away your coat slightly, gaze wandering over your body. Calloused fingers tilted your chin upwards while he inspected your face before a slight smile appeared on his lips.

‘’Yeah, you’ll do,’’ He concluded and began to walk away. ‘’Follow me.’’

‘’I take it you’re the owner,’’ you inquired as you followed the man to the other side of the club and down a dimly lit hallway, smiling back at, what you assumed was, one of his girls. ‘’You’re Pete?’’ 

‘’That’s me,’’ he confirmed as you’re led into an office. ‘’Gonna need to see ID, need you to sign a couple contracts, and for you to take your clothes off,’’ he quick fired as he sat himself in his chair and threw a small stack of paper across the table. 

‘’Excuse me? Contracts?’’

‘’All my girls sign to stay loyal to the club, I don’t need anyone running off and taking my profits with him– helps limit competition, and I need to see what I’m working with here, you’re not exactly gonna be wearing a winter coat out there. Usually you’d come during the day, work the pole but, I got three of my regular girls out tonight, so it’s your lucky day.’’

‘’Oh,’’ You answer simply, pausing before a moment.  ‘’Right, yeah, lucky me– Of course,’’ you stumble out as you reach into your pocket and slide your ID on to his desk before peeling your jacket off and taking in a heavy breath before lifting your shirt over your head and sliding down your skirt with shaking hands.

‘’Over here,’’ Pete summoned, fingers tapped at his desk before turning his chair to the side to make use of empty space, relaxing into the chair with parted legs. 

‘’Show me what you can do.’’

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

It’s your first day at work. Your nerves have simmered over to a nice whirlwind. Even as you sit at your desk, going through the various training materials. You haven’t managed to calm down. Your heart is beating so fast.

Everyone’s been nice. You don’t know why you’re jittering. Like your mother says, you’re overthinking, and like your father says, you need to sit still. You grab the armrests and try to make yourself stop moving. It only makes you want to boil over.

You swivel back and forth and look at your coworkers. They’re all so busy like bees in a hive. They know exactly what they’re doing and you still feel lost as you sift through endless SOPs and corporate training videos.

You see a woman with purplish red curls with a mug, steam curling over the brim. Ah, that’s a good excuse for a break. You still need to figure out the office coffee machine. Daniella, your supervisor, briefly pointed it out during her tour. It’s one of those fancy industrial pod brewers.

You stand and nearly skip between the desks. Be cool. You slow your pace and hold your shoulders straight, your squared toed kitten heels clacking on the tile. You poke your head into the kitchen and find only one other employee inside.

The man’s shoulders are broad and straight as he stares silently at the coffee machine. It grinds and spurts out dark coffee. You come up next to him to peruse the spinning rack of pods, tapping your chin as you think. You peek over at him.

“Hi,” you smile, “any recommendations?”

His pale blue eyes meet yours for an instant before quickly flicking back to his cup. A plain black porcelain mug without any decoration or glitz. You already know which cup you want to bring in; the one that looks like a honey pot and has a small lid resembling a bear sticking his head out with a little honeycomb stitch between his ears.

You take one of the paper cups and a pod of the butterscotch twist. You stand back and wait your turn. He scowls as if mentally urging the cup to fill.

“I’m…” you introduce yourself, “I just started over in Research and Development.”

He doesn’t respond. He puts his hands behind him, clutching them tightly as his forearms tense. The tendons bulge out beneath his skin. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, a grey button up with black trousers. A bit grim but an aesthetic for sure. There’s several rings on his fingers as they curl around each other.

“It’s my first day,” you continue the one-sided conversation, “so… that’s why you never saw me before.”

He growls and grabs his cup as the machine dings. He doesn’t acknowledge you as he turns on his heel and marches out. You watch his back and shrug, blowing out between your lips. You get it, some people aren’t the social type.

You put your cup under the spout and tap the touchscreen. It takes you a lot of poking around to figure out how to brew the coffee. You step back and wait. Caffeine should definitely help your nerves… fuel them at least.

💗

Lunchtime comes and you grab your bento box and head down to the cafeteria. Daniella said you could eat your desk if you wished but you need a break from the screen. Besides, you notice that most people don’t.

You enter the cafeteria. There are tables here and there but they’re already crowded. You notice a few people from your department and head over to that table. Tammy moves her bag onto the seat before you can claim it. You frown and apologise as you back away.

Hmm.

You look around. You don’t know anyone. You don’t mind making new friends but it’s like high school all over again. Everyone has their clique and you’re just wandering in between.

Your gaze falls on the only table with more than one seat free. There’s a single person sitting at it, his head down as he runs his hand over his close cut hair. Hey, it’s… that guy. He didn’t give you his name.

You cross the room and near a chair, putting your hand on the back of it as you hover by the table.

“Hi, um, do you mind if I sit here?”

His eyes dart up and he says nothing. He shrugs and sits back, smoothing out the pages of the book in front of him. You sit, your bento box clanging loudly as you do. You give a sheepish smile as he clears his throat but doesn’t look at you.

You flip back the clasp and pop open the lid. He shifts in his chair as you take out your plastic cutlery from the little compartment. You try to be quiet but you can’t help but hit the fork off the side.

You look over at him. He has only his empty mug and a half-eaten protein bar. You look back at your colourful medley of food. Maybe he’s on a diet.

“Do you like hummus?” You ask.

He doesn’t look up. You bite your lip. You’re just being friendly but maybe he’s not hungry.

“Um, uh, you remember me?” You poke at your couscous, “from the kitchen? I didn’t get your name.”

He sighs and turns the page. You nod. Not much of a talker. You let your fork lean on the edge of the bento and grab the sides of your chair, scraping it closer. He snarls and finally looks at you.

You stop and show your teeth like a threatened animal. His jaw clenches and he refocus on his book. You stir the couscous and take a bite, swallowing as your curiosity piques.

“What are you read–”

“I’m not,” he grits and shuts the book without marking the page.

He stands and pockets the protein bar, swiping up his mug and book. You gape at him, stunned. You don’t know why he’s so upset. You’re just trying to be polite. He storms away and you frown at your food. Well, you’ve always got a friend in snacks!