Welcome to the Fever Dream

You were in no mood to celebrate and had zero defenses. You felt so unbelievably alone, so sad and devastated, completely empty and desolate inside. 

So when Curtis appeared in the bedroom to find you still donning your lacy sleep dress well past noon as you curled up in the window seat overlooking the back garden, you didn’t perk up in alarm like you usually did. 

You didn’t recoil or cower as his reflection appeared behind you in the window, looming over you as his finger dragged along the bare curve of your shoulder to make his presence–and his possession of you–known. 

You just released a shaky exhale and pressed your forehead against the cool glass, resigned to your fate as the drag of his finger turned to the firm grip of his hand around your bicep as he pulled you to your feet before him. 

His lips quirked at the way you avoided his gaze, the way your shoulders curled protectively–like you could really defend yourself against him in any way. Curtis’ big hand glided around your hip and down until he was gripping your ass and tugging you flush against him. 

You could feel him growing hard against your belly, his free hand lifting to grip your throat, and it was the firm almost painful grip around your neck that had tears springing to your eyes and the plea falling from your lips before you could think to suppress it. 

“Please don’t hurt me or humiliate me, not today.”

Curtis quirked an eyebrow, looking amused by your request. “And what makes today so special?”

“I…” your voice broke, your gaze falling away because you suddenly felt so stupid, and embarrassed. 

You felt so vulnerable–which was ridiculous given your circumstances–but it was how you felt all the same. 

And your shyness and silent distress only piqued Curtis’ interest even more. 

His grip on your throat shifted to his fingers holding your chin, and he pointed your gaze at his. “Tell me.”

“It’s my birthday,” you whispered. “And I… I just don’t want to hurt today. Please.”

Something you had never seen before flashed in Curtis’ eyes as he watched you, and although you couldn’t quite identify it, your body had a visceral and emotional reaction to that unfamiliar look.

Shuddering, your face crumpled as your emotions rose up within you, a hot flood of tears spilling over as you dropped your forehead to Curtis’ chest, clutched his shirt between your fingers, and cried. 

“Please, I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I just want it to stop. I’m so tired. I’m so tired of hurting and feeling dirty. Of being so alone. It’s my birthday, and I’m all alone. I’m all alone.”

Curtis went still as a harsh sob rocked your body and you sagged against him, lost to your grief and overwhelm. 

Your unbearable pain. 

And then he did something you never would have expected. 

He touched you gently, innocently, his big hand warming the place between your shoulder blades, holding you against him in a not quite embrace before he was carefully stroking your back. 

“You’re not alone,” he said. 

When you tipped your face up to look at him, confusion furrowing your brows, he smiled, just a little. 

And it wasn’t a mean curl of his lips or a wicked, devious grin but a soft, genuine smile making its debut.

His hand lifted to cup your cheek, his smile dimming when you flinched at the sudden movement, but he persisted, his thumb swiping away the tears lingering along your skin as he watched you stare at him with a look of stunned wariness. 

After a moment, you did something that you had never done before–you willingly leaned into Curtis’ touch. 

And when he ducked close and kissed you, somehow urgent and gentle all at once as he drank from your lips, you whined, not from fear or defeat or pain, but from desperation. 

You were so desperate for a real, gentle touch. For genuine comfort and softness.

For kindness and care. 

“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” Curtis murmured before he gathered you in his arms and guided you toward the bed. 

His movements were slow and careful as he undressed you, his lips trailing along every inch of your skin that he could reach. 

You came alive beneath his soft touch, blossoming like a flower at every reverent kiss and lingering caress, at every murmur of praise. 

And for the first time ever, your breathless, trembling chant of, “Please, please, please!” wasn’t to ward him off but to beg him for more. 

You opened your legs to Curtis willingly, your cunt weeping a river of arousal as he shed his own clothing and moved closer. 

There was a foreign kind of darkness shadowing his gaze as he settled over you. One big hand warmed your belly, his thumb strumming along your clit and making you whimper and writhe as he slowly, carefully fed you each and every inch of his hard, aching cock. 

It was the first time he split you open without a trace of roughness to be found. Instead, settling his weight on top of you as each of his hands found each of your own and twined your fingers together. 

When your breath caught at the soft, intimate touch, your gaze wide, disbelieving, and glittering with tears, Curtis shot you that soft smile again before dipping close for a kiss. 

He worked your mouth with his lips and tongue until you were squirming beneath him, worked up and impatient–desperate for what came next. 

And he gave it to you. 

Curtis’ gaze was avid and fixed on your face as he began to move inside of you, starting with soft, shallow rocks of his hips before he was giving you more–what you were begging for–and yet still somehow keeping it gentle as he fucked you. 

He didn’t stop until he rocked your body with three orgasms and you were all dazed and floaty and sweetly wrecked in a way he had never seen before but was already craving again. 

Groaning, Curtis finally chased his own release with deep, frantic ruts of his hips, flooding your insides with a throaty grunt of satisfaction before sinking on top of you and panting for breath. 

Once he came down from his high and found you dozing beneath him, your face lax in sleep and so painfully beautiful despite the dark shadows beneath your eyes, Curtis just watched you for a beat. 

He gently retrieved one of his hands from yours and smoothed it over your head before cupping your cheek, his soft cock twitching inside of you as you sighed your content in your sleep and nuzzled into his touch. 

Gazing at you for a moment longer, Curtis dipped close and gently kissed you, whispering against your lips, “Happy birthday.”

And then he settled down in bed and carefully arranged you over him, tugging the covers up to keep you warm as he held you close and listened to your steady breathing as you peacefully slept atop his chest for the first time ever. 

Soooo obviously this was written a while ago, because there have actually been some softer moments with canon PP!Curtis, but I wanted to preserve the core of this original piece and the underlying thread of angst and devastation. @krirebr would be so proud lolll 😘

—

Please take a moment to comment or reblog. It means a lot to hear from my readers after sharing a story that I put so much love into. Serial liking without engagement is the quickest way to kill my writing motivation, so please don’t do that. It only takes a moment to show a little love. Thank you 🙏🏻

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

You were in no mood to celebrate and had zero defenses. You felt so unbelievably alone, so sad and devastated, completely empty and desolate inside. 

So when Curtis appeared in the bedroom to find you still donning your lacy sleep dress well past noon as you curled up in the window seat overlooking the back garden, you didn’t perk up in alarm like you usually did. 

You didn’t recoil or cower as his reflection appeared behind you in the window, looming over you as his finger dragged along the bare curve of your shoulder to make his presence–and his possession of you–known. 

You just released a shaky exhale and pressed your forehead against the cool glass, resigned to your fate as the drag of his finger turned to the firm grip of his hand around your bicep as he pulled you to your feet before him. 

His lips quirked at the way you avoided his gaze, the way your shoulders curled protectively–like you could really defend yourself against him in any way. Curtis’ big hand glided around your hip and down until he was gripping your ass and tugging you flush against him. 

You could feel him growing hard against your belly, his free hand lifting to grip your throat, and it was the firm almost painful grip around your neck that had tears springing to your eyes and the plea falling from your lips before you could think to suppress it. 

“Please don’t hurt me or humiliate me, not today.”

Curtis quirked an eyebrow, looking amused by your request. “And what makes today so special?”

“I…” your voice broke, your gaze falling away because you suddenly felt so stupid, and embarrassed. 

You felt so vulnerable–which was ridiculous given your circumstances–but it was how you felt all the same. 

And your shyness and silent distress only piqued Curtis’ interest even more. 

His grip on your throat shifted to his fingers holding your chin, and he pointed your gaze at his. “Tell me.”

“It’s my birthday,” you whispered. “And I… I just don’t want to hurt today. Please.”

Something you had never seen before flashed in Curtis’ eyes as he watched you, and although you couldn’t quite identify it, your body had a visceral and emotional reaction to that unfamiliar look.

Shuddering, your face crumpled as your emotions rose up within you, a hot flood of tears spilling over as you dropped your forehead to Curtis’ chest, clutched his shirt between your fingers, and cried. 

“Please, I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I just want it to stop. I’m so tired. I’m so tired of hurting and feeling dirty. Of being so alone. It’s my birthday, and I’m all alone. I’m all alone.”

Curtis went still as a harsh sob rocked your body and you sagged against him, lost to your grief and overwhelm. 

Your unbearable pain. 

And then he did something you never would have expected. 

He touched you gently, innocently, his big hand warming the place between your shoulder blades, holding you against him in a not quite embrace before he was carefully stroking your back. 

“You’re not alone,” he said. 

When you tipped your face up to look at him, confusion furrowing your brows, he smiled, just a little. 

And it wasn’t a mean curl of his lips or a wicked, devious grin but a soft, genuine smile making its debut.

His hand lifted to cup your cheek, his smile dimming when you flinched at the sudden movement, but he persisted, his thumb swiping away the tears lingering along your skin as he watched you stare at him with a look of stunned wariness. 

After a moment, you did something that you had never done before–you willingly leaned into Curtis’ touch. 

And when he ducked close and kissed you, somehow urgent and gentle all at once as he drank from your lips, you whined, not from fear or defeat or pain, but from desperation. 

You were so desperate for a real, gentle touch. For genuine comfort and softness.

For kindness and care. 

“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” Curtis murmured before he gathered you in his arms and guided you toward the bed. 

His movements were slow and careful as he undressed you, his lips trailing along every inch of your skin that he could reach. 

You came alive beneath his soft touch, blossoming like a flower at every reverent kiss and lingering caress, at every murmur of praise. 

And for the first time ever, your breathless, trembling chant of, “Please, please, please!” wasn’t to ward him off but to beg him for more. 

You opened your legs to Curtis willingly, your cunt weeping a river of arousal as he shed his own clothing and moved closer. 

There was a foreign kind of darkness shadowing his gaze as he settled over you. One big hand warmed your belly, his thumb strumming along your clit and making you whimper and writhe as he slowly, carefully fed you each and every inch of his hard, aching cock. 

It was the first time he split you open without a trace of roughness to be found. Instead, settling his weight on top of you as each of his hands found each of your own and twined your fingers together. 

When your breath caught at the soft, intimate touch, your gaze wide, disbelieving, and glittering with tears, Curtis shot you that soft smile again before dipping close for a kiss. 

He worked your mouth with his lips and tongue until you were squirming beneath him, worked up and impatient–desperate for what came next. 

And he gave it to you. 

Curtis’ gaze was avid and fixed on your face as he began to move inside of you, starting with soft, shallow rocks of his hips before he was giving you more–what you were begging for–and yet still somehow keeping it gentle as he fucked you. 

He didn’t stop until he rocked your body with three orgasms and you were all dazed and floaty and sweetly wrecked in a way he had never seen before but was already craving again. 

Groaning, Curtis finally chased his own release with deep, frantic ruts of his hips, flooding your insides with a throaty grunt of satisfaction before sinking on top of you and panting for breath. 

Once he came down from his high and found you dozing beneath him, your face lax in sleep and so painfully beautiful despite the dark shadows beneath your eyes, Curtis just watched you for a beat. 

He gently retrieved one of his hands from yours and smoothed it over your head before cupping your cheek, his soft cock twitching inside of you as you sighed your content in your sleep and nuzzled into his touch. 

Gazing at you for a moment longer, Curtis dipped close and gently kissed you, whispering against your lips, “Happy birthday.”

And then he settled down in bed and carefully arranged you over him, tugging the covers up to keep you warm as he held you close and listened to your steady breathing as you peacefully slept atop his chest for the first time ever. 

Soooo obviously this was written a while ago, because there have actually been some softer moments with canon PP!Curtis, but I wanted to preserve the core of this original piece and the underlying thread of angst and devastation. @krirebr would be so proud lolll 😘

—

Please take a moment to comment or reblog. It means a lot to hear from my readers after sharing a story that I put so much love into. Serial liking without engagement is the quickest way to kill my writing motivation, so please don’t do that. It only takes a moment to show a little love. Thank you 🙏🏻

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘