#biker!Curtis Everett x nanny!Reader

[imaginedreamwrite]

A Permanent Claim: Part 2

The twin beds set against the wall were made in perfection, a task that you speculated was taken on by the maids Pari said Curtis had hired to look after the twin mess.

The dark grey blankets were pulled taut against the bed with lighter pillows placed at the top of the mattress with a stuffed bear on one bed and an alligator on the other.

The closet doors that were placed across from each bed were closed, the frosted glass giving you a limited view of their clothes inside, although you could depict the black and white soccer ball sitting on the floor by the door hinges.

The room was clean and well organized though it hadn’t looked like a typical little boys’ room, there was a distinctive lack of toys or games, the walls were decorated with generic canvas pictures but nothing that would have related to their personalities. It seemed as if their room was ripped from the pages of some interior design magazine, copied and pasted into the house. There was little here that was conducive to Theo and James, or it had appeared that way to you.

“I’ll show you the nanny suite.” Pari directed you out of the room, closing the door behind the two of you before she stepped further into the hall, the extension of the crisp and clean aesthetic of the boy’s rooms continuing into the hall.

The carpet beneath your feet was soft, and you found yourself curling your toes into the material briefly before you followed Pari down the hall toward the next set of doors on the right side of the long hallway.

Pari had given you the rundown on the twins’ schedule, the latest time they could stay up and when Curtis wanted them up in the morning. She had explained that they were going to be entering kindergarten after summer break and the private school Curtis was sending them to would take them out of the house three days a week until Christmas, and then after they would go four days a week.

It was a lot of information given to you within a brief time until she stepped in front of one door, opening it briefly to give you a brief look at the boys bathroom they shared. The bathtub and shower combo seemed to have more life and personality than their room, a few toys set in a faux wicker basket by the corner of the bathtub, and a set of matching towels hanging on the rack were synonymous with the double vanities.

A set of toothbrushes was hanging off two holders above the sink, one themed to a superhero and the other was designed with dinosaurs in mind, both giving you more of an idea of what the twins liked than their bedroom.

It was puzzling, a wonderment why there was nothing more for the boys in their bedroom. You put the thought in the back of your mind while you followed Pari down to the next door, a nanny suite that was going to be yours when you officially started the next day.

Tonight she was going to stay to make sure the twins had settled until they had gotten relatively used to the idea of having another new nanny around, and that would in turn give you time to pack some clothes before you would be on your own.

It was her deciding factor or something about you that she liked, to give you the job after the few short hours that you had been here talking with her and to her. The process of showing you around was one more indication that you were going to be given the job, one more step toward you being hired for the job that paid exceptionally well.

However, you were curious about the high turnaround, curious enough that you had almost asked Pari whether it was the twins that drove the nanny away in some kind of Hollywood feeling scheme or if it was the man you were working for that had done the job.

“It’s got everything you’ll need.” Pari directed you into the nanny suite and you had stepped through with speculation, your eyebrows furrowing as your lips had become pursed.

The nanny suite was larger than you expected and was rather captivating with clean crisp white walls, and an intricate chandelier hanging in the middle of the room.

The headboard was made of light grey material that was textured with cloth buttons that added extra detail. The bed itself was larger than the one you had in your apartment, and it was pushed against the feature wall with a nightstand on the right-hand side and a sitting chair on the other side. Across from the bed was an electric fireplace and mantle, the dark wood contrasting the white trim that ran throughout the room.

To the far left was a set of double doors that led to a small private balcony that was enclosed by a white railing. The room was designed with the same sleekness as the rest of the house, perfect to a near fault, and yet this nanny suite still had more character than the twins rooms. It was bothering you, it was getting under your skin like an itch that couldn’t have possibly been sated until you let the question be aired and given life.

“Pari, the twins room-“ You looked back at her, your eyes meeting hers and your mouth shutting closed when she had drawn in a breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose with annoyance.

The corner of her lips was pressed tightly together and the scowl on her face had told you everything you needed to know.

“I know.” Those two words told you enough. “Curtis hired some interior decorator because he didn’t give a shit about what the house looked like, he’s got enough to deal with. The nannies and housekeepers come and they see the state of this place and do everything they can to keep it this way.”

“High-turnaround-“

“Not just for nannies.” Pari drew her hand away from her face and down to her hip, glancing you over again with a far less stoic expression. “Housekeepers too.”

Your suspicions of the twin being hellions that sent the nannies off were partially right, and you couldn’t have blamed them. The twins were not allowed by the other nannies to have anything in their rooms because of the clutter, and it had made the boys double down on their mission to get rid of anyone ‘allergic to fun’.

They didn’t get to express themselves, they didn’t get to enjoy being messy like kids naturally were, or even have their favourite toys in their bedrooms to play with. It was almost as if they were being forced into this state of cleanliness that wasn’t achievable for them.

“They’re kids, they should be allowed to be kids.” You mumbled under your breath, taking another glance around the room before you and Pari stepped into the hallway again.

As the door clicked behind you, your hand settled on the doorknob while Pari made her way to the winding staircase, leaving you lagging for a few moments.

“Theo, James-“ A crash had come from the lower level and your feet carried you before you had time to think, following Pari toward the kitchen and the source of the sound.

“Sorry, aunty.” One of the twin’s bottom lips was trembling, his blue eyes watering and his chest heaving with the effort to hold in his tears.

Between the twins was a broken glass and orange juice, the mixture thankfully not hitting either of their feet. Theo, or so you thought, had huffed and gritted his teeth, almost as if he was trying to present himself as a stoic figure.

“James-“ you started to speak to the twins, first addressing the twin who wasn’t near tears.

“Theo.” Pari corrected you, taking a wide berth around the glass and juice, and stepping toward a small utility closet near the edge of the kitchen.

“It was an accident, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.” You stepped the other way, slowly grabbing hold of James’ arm, and gently leading him away from the glass. “I’m going to clean it up, don’t step in the glass or you’ll cut your feet.”

“I was thirsty.” James pulled at your sleeve, his eyes brimming with tears. “I wanted a drink.”

“I know, it’s not your fault.” You lift him from the floor and set him on the table, sitting him on the edge before you lifted his left foot and then his right, looking for any cuts. “It was an accident.”

You drew your fingers along the bottom of his feet feeling for any nicks that you couldn’t see, biting down on the inside of your cheek when he laughed through some tears and jerked his foot. After checking both feet, you lifted him from the table and carried him further away from the mess and set him down where he wouldn’t be hurt or caught in the mess.

“Do you still want something to drink?” You crouched before him, watching him as he raised his arm and wiped away his tears with his sleeve, sniffling and nodding. “Orange juice?”

“We didn’t mean to,” Theo spoke with the same defiance, the same presentable little tough guy act he was trying to put on, almost as if he was afraid you or Pari would give them trouble. “It slipped-“

“It’s okay, Theo.” You were careful to step around the rest of the glass, carefully padding around the island toward the fridge as you stared at the rows of cupboards.

“To the left of the fridge,” Pari spoke without having to look up from the floor, “orange juice is on the right side of the fridge.”

You followed her instruction, first grabbing a glass and then the juice. You set both on the counter before closing the doors and unscrewing the cap, idly listening to the sound of James and Theo’s whispers behind you while you filled their glass.

Once it was halfway full, you grabbed the glass and turned. You nearly jumped out of your skin when they appeared closer than you anticipated, squeaking in surprise at their giggles and soft laughter.

“Funny.” You held the glass out to James, watching him and Theo guzzle down the sweet mixture before they handed it back to you. “Is that better?”

“Theo, James…go put your toys away. Pizza will be here soon.” Pari sent the directive and as quickly as the boys were here, they were gone.

They scattered from the kitchen with a few excited claims that they would beat each other to the playroom, leaving you and Pari alone. You set the glass in the sink and shifted your weight from one foot to the other while silence passed between you both.

“Crustaceans?” Pari drew your attention to herself as she stepped around the island and dumped the remaining glass shards into the garbage under the sink. “You’re allergic to crustaceans?”

“Oh.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other before you cleared your throat and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t eat crustaceans but I can eat fish.”

“I don’t eat beef,” Pari relayed some personal preferences about herself just as you had, “It’s not an allergy, but a religious practice.”

“Beef?”

“I can eat chicken, lamb, and goat but not beef.” She looked you over as she spoke and then smiled, cracking a genuine and warm grin. “You’re going to do great with them. You’re exactly what they need.”

“Thank you-“

“-Curtis too.” She spoke over you while you fell silent. “He’s going to love you.”

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[imaginedreamwrite]

3 time mousey started getting feelings for Curtis 🤭

There were three distinct times you knew you were starting to fall head over heels with Curtis, and each seemed to be a little more chaotic than the last. There wasn’t a great amount of idealized moments like those in romantic books or movies, rather it was the irksome nature of the man that drove you to confront your feelings. That or it was the cuts and bruises, the ailments that befit his role as biker.

The first instance where you had to face your growing feelings had been when Curtis decided to host a club meeting at the house rather than the number of bars they’d owned. His biker friends and their girlfriends, wives or hookups had attended this meeting at his house and you were happy to remain ignorant to them all.

You’d happily grabbed buckets of Lego to play with Theo & James, never really wanting to pay them any mind. You’d rather build their Star Wars sets or cities rather than worry about what Curtis’ friends were up to, until one of the hookups had garnered your attention.

A single glance had allowed you to see the girl putting her hands on Curtis’ bicep, her nails clenching the material of his shirt. It was only a single touch and yet it fuelled your envy. You’d acted instinctively and stood from the Lego factory floor and begun stalking toward the woman without question.

Your inability to hide your emotions had sparked a smirk and amusement in Curtis, all of which had been extended when you glared daggers at the woman touching him, and with upmost degradation you’d ripped her hand off of him and threw out some excuse that was as empty as her head.

It was a cheap excuse and you scurried off not long after, managing to only hear Curtis speak your petname before you were gone.

The second had happened after Curtis had come home from a night out. What you thought had been him drinking had really been a case of him taking payment for a service he was owed, and by the time he had come around back to the house his hands were marred with cuts and bruises.

Despite how irritated you were by his nonchalant waving, by which he waved you off and told you not to worry, all it took was a sharp smack to his shoulder with the medical kit to get him to sit for you. He had kicked his boots off and found mirth at your sour expression and huff, he had spread his legs so you could get an unobstructed look at the few scrapes on his cheek and his hands, but what really pushed you over the line was the husky whimper of your name.

“Damn you!” You whacked him again in the shoulder while still being between his legs, your heart thrashing in your chest and your stomach afflicted by butterflies. “Sit still for one minute you aggravating man!”

“Mousey-” Curtis grinned, knowing how you were affected. “-am I bothering you?”

“Yes! Your entire body bothers me! Your voice bothers me! Your eyes—” You had cut yourself off and shut yourself up, steeling your reserve to finish the job.

And the third instance of you realizing you were falling in love with the man, was after he had hosted a party at his place, insisted you come and the introduced you as his nanny.

Nothing more. His nanny, which you were, was the absolute bare minimum of what you were.

Theo and James had called you their mama, Theo and James had thought of you as so much more but their irritating daddy called you his nanny.

The nerve struck you, it dug deep within your core and you wanted to lash out at him. With a glass of wine in you, you wanted to strike him across the back of the head and call him an idiot for trying to denote your relationship. It was irksome and it was another example of how that man made you want to reenact Rapunzel’a frying pan attack, and kiss him stupid.

“Don’t let him get away with that.” Pari had reinforced your feelings of annoyance with encouragement to get after him. “Come on, Mousey. Be the badass we know you can be.”

“Seriously, don’t let him negate you like that.” Nat had given you another boosting pep talk while cleaning up the bottom right corner of your lips and the lipstick that had slightly smudged. “Take charge, Y/N. stake your claim.”

You followed him as he moved toward the back door, your eyes narrowing in determination and drive. You caught him before he could leave, whipping him around to see his toying smirk face to face.

“Need something Mousey?”

“Shut up.” Your lips crashed into his, your claim made and your boldness surging through the kiss. “Don’t you ever refer to me as just your nanny again.”

You pulled away and pat his chest twice, turning away from him to exhale slowly.

Your relationship was officially turned on its head.

[imaginedreamwrite]

A Permanent Claim: Part 1

Your knee bounced to the tune of the song playing through the speakers of your Uber driver’s vehicle, your lips moving to the lyric you recognized.

It might have seemed as if you were paying attention to the ride or the direction of the driver as he took you to the house of your potential job.

The interview with someone he trusted, this Curtis Everett guy, and wouldn’t be with the man himself, a fact which had made you more anxious and unsettled about the interview processes that would make or break the job.

You had prepared yourself as best as you possibly could with background checks and re-certifying yourself in first aid and CPR, and you had sent your references and all your university coursework to the nanny agency that had set this up. You had presented everything you needed, you had gone through two interviews already and this, possibly, would be the last.

Your friend’s reassurance that this was a goo-paying, well-paying job, hadn’t made it any easier to potentially land. You had almost thought there were more hoops for you to jump through, even if it was slapped with a label of being a high-turnaround job. The job paid well, the kids were rather sweet and cute and yet they couldn’t keep a nanny.

Maybe you should have asked yourself why they couldn’t keep anyone down instead of being so eager to dive in.

However, the reality was quickly set upon you with the reminder that bills needed to be paid, rent was due and you had student loans that you wanted to get off your shoulders. There was more to be done than not and that required a steady income.

“We’re here, I can’t get passed the gate.” The driver informed you when he came to a stop outside of an iron-wrought barricade that kept you from accessing the rest of the property.

The tall barricade and fence were simple yet effective, the steel bars trapped between stone or concrete headers and footer had given somewhat of a glance at the house, or mansion rather, that lay beyond.

The gate itself would have opened both doors if you were given clearance but as it stood neither you nor the driver was given access now. To make it to the house, you could have had to hike it up the curved driveway to the front of the house and that was if they would even let you beyond the gate in the first place.

“I can take you somewhere else or you can get out but we’re not sitting here.” The driver had snarked, looking at you through the rearview mirror with a scowl on his face and his eyebrows furrowed.

You weren’t given much of a choice with the Uber driver, you could have tried calling the number given to you but the driver wouldn’t let you stay in the vehicle. You would have to get out of the vehicle and speak to the security speaker or at the very least get out and call the number.

“I’m getting out.” You unbuckled and tossed it to the side, scrambling to grab your purse and phone before you fumbled with the door.

You stepped out of the Uber and nudged the door shut with your hip, the latch catching and the driver starting to roll away from the gate. You threw your bag over your shoulder and walked toward the security box before the entrance of the gate, briefly listening to the driver abandoning you before you pressed your thumb into the call button.

You waited for someone to either let you in or deny you completely, the crackle of the system reminding you of the white noise machines your college roommate had used night after night until she moved in with her boyfriend. She swore she couldn’t sleep without the crackling background noise, even though you were vexed by the sound and didn’t find any comfort from the sound.

Despite your asking if she could wear headphones when she used the machine because it was preventing her from sleeping well, your college roommate refused and made the rebuttal that you could wear headphones instead.

“I’m here to interview for the nanny position.” Your voice and lips had moved without your knowledge, and you hadn’t been aware that anyone was even had spoken to you until you heard your reply.

“Y/N L/N?” The voice through the speaker had huffed, irritated by the intrusion or maybe it was you being here ringing the buzzer that annoyed them.

Regardless, the gate had begun opening after their snort of derision and you were given access to the grounds.

The mansion stood out against the dark asphalt driveway that extended from the road to the edge of the steps. The light-coloured brick and mortar seemed altogether unassuming and ordinary yet beautifully designed in conjecture with the double french doors that were shut tight.

Even as far away as you were, you could make out the design of the detailed glass set into the dark wood of the double doors. The overhanging arch that protected the door from less-than-ideal weather if it had inflicted itself upon the earth was made of light sandy and taupe-coloured bricks set into place with matching grout.

There was a set of matching arched cutouts above the welcoming arch that served no purpose but decoration, embedded with sconces and security cameras aimed at the front door.

The door opened before you even had an opportunity to ring the doorbell or use the brass knocker, the woman that had come peeling out of the house had knocked into you with brute force. You harrumphed and braced yourself against the wall as she passed you with a reddened face and spittle gathering at the corner of her lips.

“Those demons-“

“Y/N L/N.” another woman stepped into your view, looking you up and down with a passive smirk on her face.

You didn’t know what drew your attention first, whether it was the septum piercing she had that glittered in the light or whether it was the full sleeve of tattoos covering her right arm.

“You’re…” You stuttered and looked over your shoulder toward the older woman who couldn’t have gotten out of the house fast enough. “Is she okay?”

“Come inside.” The woman with long plaited black hair had stepped aside to let you pass into the house and as you passed you took notice of the largest tattoo on her right shoulder, the image of a goddess that wasn’t at all familiar to you.

“You have tattoos?” She wasn’t bothered at all by you staring at her, neither was she put off by your wide-eyed gaze when she closed the door with her foot, bringing attention to the piercing in her hips and belly button.

“No.” you squeaked, intimidated by the woman who looked as tough as nails and unapologetically in touch with herself. “I don’t…I’ve never-“

“Curtis trusts me to find the little hellions a good nanny.” She tilted her head to the side, an indication to follow her into the kitchen, neither waiting nor checking to see if you trailed after her.

“Twins, right?” You scurried after the woman as she crossed into the kitchen and immediately reached for a glass of water before pushing another toward you.

The kitchen, like the exterior of the mansion, was beautiful and aesthetically pleasing though it seemed as if it was relatively untouched.

There was a massive island in the middle of the kitchen with sleek marble countertops that were heralded by deepest cupboards and a breakfast bar on the far side. There was a dangling chandelier that hung above the middle of the island, accompanied by pot lights set into the indented ceiling although few were on.

“Theo and James are five turning six.” She had spoken, yet to give you her name, and looked you over once more before she rest her hip against the counter and lift the glass to her dark-stained lips. “Do you drink?”

“Not often.” You answered her directly, tapering off at the end of your speech while trying to be subtle about taking in every detail of the kitchen. “I’ve never been drunk before, I don’t know what it’s like to have a hangover.”

“You do drugs?”

“Do you?” You asked in retaliation without thinking, drawing a laugh from the woman whose name you still hadn’t known. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“Curtis is protective of who comes around his kids. There have been more nannies coming and gone because of who they pretend to be or how they treat their kids. His kids are his whole world-“

“I’m not looking to make their mom mad, or try and infringe-“

“Curtis isn’t married, he brings women home but he keeps that away from his boys. He won’t let his boys see any of the everyday shit that could be harmful to their psyche.” She had continued to size you up, a smirk tugging on her lips until she rolled her shoulder back and exposed a waterlily tattoo on the side of her neck.

“I’m sorry,” you furrowed your eyebrows and pursed your lips, remunerating on what your friend had told you earlier about Curtis Everett being frightening without her ever giving up his profession, “but what does Curtis do?”

There was a moment of silence that fell between the two of you, the silence that lingered as she drank from her glass of water before eventually setting it back against the marble. The clink of the bottom rim against the smooth countertop had nearly been overshadowed by the sound of boyish laughter and thundering footsteps coming straight toward the kitchen.

The twins you might be in charge of had come bustling into the kitchen heading straight toward the woman you had been talking to. They hadn’t faltered in running up to her and slamming themselves against her legs, hugging her tightly while talking at the same time. She had somehow embraced them both while lifting them onto the kitchen island, neither one paying attention to you until she had whispered to them.

The twins themselves seemed to exude trouble from their matching green eyes that sparked with mischief and secrets. Their dark brown hair had been cropped short in a Caesar cut, the two nearly identical cuts making it almost impossible to tell one from the other and yet one had a slightly more pronounced jaw than the next.

“My name’s Theo,” the seemingly bolder of the twins had lurched forward to stare deep into your eyes, sprawled across the marble surface, “how old are you?”

“Have you ever eaten a spider? A live spider?” The other twin crawled across the surface of the island toward you, his fingers spread and squeaking upon the surface. “Are you allerganic to fun?”

“Allergic,” you corrected, glancing between the two boys as they rapidly fired off questions to you, one after the other, “I’m allergic to crustaceans-“

“What are crust-ashes-“ the quieter twin had piped up, kicking his feet twice.

“Shellfish,” you looked from James to Theo and back again, unable to keep your eyes on one and not the other, “lobster and crab, oysters…”

“I don’t like lobster. I like chicken.” Theo huffed and flopped onto his back, holding his arms and legs into the air stiffly. “I wish I was a turtle-“

“Pari.” She held her hand out to you to shake, delicate and light tracings of ink on her left hand and forearm drawing your attention, even momentarily. “It’s what my boyfriend calls me.”

“Pari.” You repeated the name she had given you, shaking her hand while the twins continued to rattle off questions one after the other. “Y/N-“

“Curtis trusts me to make a good decision. You seem well rounded and you’re not a psycho, the twins like you-“

“You like me?”

“Do you have cooties?” Theo bound to his feet in a single moment, standing on his tippy toes in the middle of the island.

“I took my cootie shot and islands aren’t for standing on.” Your gentle scold had been met with a bout of energy from Theo, and a startling scream as he jumped off the island and goaded James to follow him.

“I’ll show you around tonight, give you the schedule and all the codes.” Pari had motioned for you to follow her out of the kitchen, across the entranceway into a study. “Tomorrow you’ll meet Curtis.”

“What does Curtis do?” You asked again after not getting a direct answer the first time.

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.” She opened the door for you to step into the study, a contract sitting in the middle of the desk with a sleek silver pen on the paper. “His reputation is usually well known.”

“Oh, but I don’t…” You sat down before the desk while she sat on the other side, another smirk toying at her lips.

“He runs a motorcycle club and has half the county’s richest men in his pocket,” her smirk widened at your silence, “I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

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[imaginedreamwrite]

A Permanent Claim: Prologue

Heat bloomed against your palms and an exhale had fallen from your lips when you noticed the hands of time mocking you when you stole another glance at the clock hanging off the wall.

There was a certain window of availability which was quickly dwindling and each second that had passed in the back corner of his favourite hotspot was creating a bubbling and egregious twist to your stomach.

You were supposed to be at an interview for a nanny position in just over an hour and still, you were waiting for Hayden.

Your ex-boyfriend had texted you after months of stilled silence between the two of you, his desire to reconnect fuelling your desire to see his pretty green eyes again. Despite his penchant for being an upper-class ass, Hayden still made you feel lighter than you were willing to admit to. His green eyes, his boyish charm and the pedigree that was a cavern between the two of you also happened to be what brought you together.

His degree in business management was a career his father wanted for him, his life had dually been planned out for him and caused a strain on most of his relationships with his ordinary and normal friends. The pressure to be with someone in the upper crust of society had been part of the reason why you broke it off, and you had been disdained to admit that you missed him.

As arrogant and cocky as he could have been, you missed Hayden.

And he missed you enough to want to meet up and possibly rekindle your relationship, or at the very least become friends again.

Only Hayden was deridingly late and you were running out of free time for him.

“I know someone who works for a nanny agency. There’s a high turn-around job but it pays damn well. The guy is kind of terrifying but the kids are cute.” Your friend relayed the information that could have seen you placed with a single dad of two kids as a nanny.

And you were supposed to be readying yourself for an interview with someone hired to find the family a nanny, or it was a friend of your potential boss. Sending in your criminal record check and giving your professors’ recommendations and completing an early childhood education degree, CPR, first aid and child development courses wasn’t quite enough. The series of interviews you were supposed to be going through would be one of the final steps.

After, of course, you met the twins you would be responsible for.

If you ever got through this meeting with Hayden, if you had the chance to meet up as he promised you.

“High turnaround? Why is there such a high turnaround if the job is so well paying?” Your question had been met with hesitation and your friend had seemed to take longer to answer than you thought necessary.

“The guy is terrifying and he’s protective of who comes around his kids-“

“How is that a bad thing? The guy’s protective of his kids.” Your conversation rang out in your head in time with the bell above the door, and as you lifted your head to see Hayden walking in, your friends’ voices rang out again.

“There’s more to it than that, but I think this could be a good job. As long as you don’t get scared off.”

“Y/N,” Hayden approached the table you sat at, his green eyes dropping to the cup in your hands before they flit back toward your face, a smile briefly tugged at his lips, “how are you?”

“You’re cutting it close.” You snipped with more force than necessary, irritated that he was pushing you to the last moment.

As if he didn’t realize that this interview for a nanny job could be what made it possible to stay in the area, or was the catalyst to you crawling back home with shame and your tail tucked between your legs.

“Relax, I’m here now. I had a business meeting with my dad and my advisor.” His father was one of the richest men in town, save for a few known names, and his advisor was making sure he ended college with half a million dollars in his bank account and an avenue to make a half-million more without even lifting a finger.

“I don’t have much time, I have an interview for a nanny position-“

“A nanny?” Hayden’s surprise had cut you off and he had leaned in, crossing his arms on the table. “You want to be a nanny? Really?”

“Yes.” You felt as if your eye was beginning to twitch and the remainder of yet another reason why you and Hayden hadn’t worked out the first time had risen to the surface. “I love kids, I love working with kids.”

Hayden had hummed, his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed. He was, as he always had been, boyishly charming with the qualities of every kind of pretty fuck boy engrained in his being. Your relationship with him was fun as it always had been, but the pressure put on him by his parents to have a proper girlfriend from their social circles and Hayden’s lack of appreciation for what you chose to study in university had broken you.

And still, you wanted to try again. Still, you thought that if you could overlook his disapproval and the feeling of not being good enough…maybe the two of you could work out.

“That’s good for you.” He came across as condescending though you were sure he hadn’t meant to say it like that. “So you have an interview. Who with?”

You tapped the cup between your hands with your fingernails as you bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to hold back from him and yet your tongue wouldn’t physically form the words you wanted it to. You were left in silence while you and Hayden stared each other down, him waiting for an answer and you becoming increasingly annoyed. Part of you was annoyed that he was being so irritating and vexing, the other part of you was increasingly drawn to him and his eyes.

Maybe part of you was mad, maybe it was some kind of crazed inner toxicity that made you want to be with him again.

Despite the flaws and boyishness.

“I have to go.” He just got here, you knew he had, but you had to leave.

Or maybe you were just needing space because he had pushed you a little far and you were seeking an escape. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Whether it was nothing more than an excuse to leave him, or it was a true statement about needing to prepare, you would be leaving regardless.

“Wish we had more time to talk, I just got here.” Hayden stood when you had, his statement causing a twitch behind your left eye. “Maybe we can meet up after your interview. I’m heading to the Sharks club to watch the game.”

“Sure, why not.” You sidestepped the table, caught by his arm stretched before you preventing you from leaving yet.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N.” His lips met your cheek, a lingering kiss pressed to you before he dropped his arm and let you leave.

Permanent Tags List: @jennmurawski13-writes @beardburnsupersoldiers @rebekahdawkins @supraveng @bookfrog242 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @loveitorleaveit20 @alexakeyloveloki @socalgem1124 @mogaruke @dreamlessinparis @frisky975 @dispatchvampire @hereforbuckyandsteve @jesgisborne @fairybnha3 @hallecarey1 @tang082646 @mrslokibarnesrogers @deputy-videogamer @posionivy0061 @loving-life-my-way @kaylamcd2000 @mercyy98 @rootcrop @whatinthestyles @slutforsteve @cornmousequeen @rededfoxy @yagurl-snow @glimmering-darling-dolly @patzammit @buckymydarlingangel @missusbarnes-rogers @andy-is-gay @nervousfandom @rileyloves5 @emi11ie @carelessreadersstuff @readingandwritingandreading @cynic-spirit @inkedaztec @gh0stgurl @cats-and-sheep @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @teambarnes72 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @miss-rebel-without-applause

[imaginedreamwrite]

A Permanent Claim

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: After taking a high turnaround job as a nanny, you find yourself thrown into the world of bikers where you’re claimed by the leader

Pairing: biker!Curtis Everett x nanny!Reader

Curtis & Mousey drabbles

[imaginedreamwrite]

Headcanon for Curtis and mousey: mousey likes to steal his sweatpants. They're so comfy and cozy and warm and she likes the cut of them. One time Curtis tried to get her her own pair but she got offended and wouldn't talk to him till he apologized

He knew before he had even stepped foot into the house from the garage, that he’d find you wearing his sweats. It had become so nomenclature that he didn’t bat an eye anymore, rather he wondered if it was the comfort you wanted or the scent of him.

Trying to gauge as best as he could, Curtis had took a few hours out of the house after finding you yet again stealing all his sweats to buy you your own. He had gotten one in every available colour with no shortage of comfort detailed in the sweats, almost identical to his own.

He wanted his sexy little mousey thief to be comfortable anytime you could be. It was an effort made on his part that he expected to go over well.

“What is this?” You questioned the stacks of sweats, folded still from the store, but laying on the bed in piles.

“Sweats, baby. You don’t have to steal mine.” Curtis kissed the top of your head in passing,’only getting a few feet before a record scratching, nails of a chalkboard echoed in the room, and grinding of two metal plates made him stop in his place.

“Sweats,” Curtis looked over his shoulder to catch the expression on your face, gears grinding in his head as an expectation he had anticipated had come to pass, “so I won’t steal yours?”

Curtis had ever seen a look of such adorable crossness, he had never seen someone whose face was contorted with anger and irritation yet still look absolutely stunning. He’d never quite witnessed the absolute terror you could unleash on himself and his house, save for the incident where you scolded his gang members, but today he was obtusely aware of your power.

“Mousey-” Curtis had already stated to backtrack when you moved.

You had turned on your heel and walked toward the bedroom door, neither rushed nor angrily stalking from the room like he was expecting. Rather your hair was calm, cool and collected, and truly that made Curtis more apprehensive. He watched you, he listened to the door opening and shutting with a soft click, and then he looked back at the sweats in dire confusion.

“What the fuck?” Curtis whispered under his breath before he gathered the sweats and started to put them away in your dressers.

He knew you liked stealing his sweats, he knew that they drowned you out but you still wanted them. You still lounged around in the soft material, almost as if the sweats were as claiming of Curtis as they were you.

“Mousey, you keep me on my toes.” Curtis shook his head and left the bedroom, continuing on his daily tasks as normal.

Until dinner, when he was face to face with Mousey and the sweats debacle.

“Baby what do you want for dinner?” Curtis entered the kitchen with phone in hand to call for takeout, waiting a moment and then lifting his head when he was met with silence.

“Mousey-”

“Mama’s ignoring you, daddy.” James piped up from the table, his smile cute and his eyes bright. “Mama won’t talk to you until you apologize.”

“Apologize? For the fuck what?”

“Daddy said a bad word! Mama! Daddy said a bad woooooord!” Theo chimed with glee, poignantly trying to get you to crack, eager to play this game.

“You’re gonna ignore me? Really, sweetheart?” Curtis drew closer to you, keeping himself on the other side of the island, and then leaned forward on his elbows. “You know I can play the long game, baby. All fucking night long.”

Silence met him.

“You want me to stop swearing? Tell me right fucking-” he winced and hissed as you flicked him in the forehead as retaliation, a smirk playing on your lips. “I’m not apologizing, and since you won’t tell me what you want for dinner then I’m leaving it up to the boys.”

His chance to make you crumble failed. The boys chose everything they wanted without you blinking an eye, and as dinner had come and gone you’d stuck to your silence. You are in silence while Curtis watched you, James cheered you on and Theo tried to get you to crack, and the 25 pairs (or so) of sweats sat tucked away.

“They’re sweats, Mousey. You can’t keep stealing my clothes.” Curtis was not going to crack. He wanted going to bend.

He wanted to see how long you could go.

“You know I’m hungry for some cream. Mousey if you don’t want me to-” Curtis had just as soon dropped to his knees when you’d pushed his shoulder with your foot, putting enough pressure into the move to send him away from you.

“Fuck!” Curtis growled as he stood, hastily ripping layers off him. “You won’t talk to me and now you won’t let me eat you out? Mousey! Your pussy need my lips and you’re being a cruel girl.”

He rest his hands on the bed beside your hips and leaned in, his eyes darkened with lust and hunger. His tongue wet his lips and he briefly searched your face before he huffed.

“Fuck! Fine!” Curtis leaned in and kissed you passionately, his hunger radiating toward you. “I’m sorry, steal all my clothes. Take everything. Take it all.”

He pulled away to see your shit-eating grin as you claimed victory.

“I knew you’d cave.” Your voice was music to his ears and you added to the moment by spreading your legs and inviting him in.

“You’re letting me eat you out, don’t be mean to your pussy.” Curtis dropped to his knees and hooked his hands around your thighs to yank you closer. “I’m donating those sweats to the women’s shelter, since you won’t take them.”

“I don’t need them, I have yours.”

[imaginedreamwrite]

A Permanent Claim: Part 4

Harvard, the Ivy League school famously profiteering from the presence of Hayden and his family for generations, was just one of the many avalanching reasons why your relationship was tumultuous.

With his father belonging to one of the oldest fraternities, and Hayden joining the league of cult-like frat boys, there was a distinct sense of entitlement that led itself to a base kind of toxicity in your relationship.

Hayden had pitied you, in some frame of his mind, even though he had called you a breath of fresh air from the elitism that was engrained throughout the vines of his family tree, it was doomed.

If it hadn’t been the Ivy League school and the generations belonging to the same old-money fraternity, then it would’ve been his father’s reputation and penchant business that yielded disgust inflicted at your behest.

Your place as a poor community college student who graduated with a degree in childhood education and development, being certified in first aid and CPR, was not enough to impress the air of arrogance that surrounded his family. Your choice to work with children was as disrespectful in their eyes as a career in water and waste management.

Despite knowing that if it weren’t for men or women who worked in waste and water management, they’d have to dirty their own hands and clean their water.

And if it weren’t for men and women like you, with early childhood education and child development degrees, they wouldn’t be able to whisk themselves away to Paris, Belize, Venice or Copenhagen every year. If it weren’t for the people who wanted to work with kids, who wanted to give them a fighting chance to combat being shitty adults later in life, they would have to do the heavy lifting themselves.

But Hayden, partially, found your choice to work with kids as almost a romanticized fetish. As if there was some nanny kink that he could have exposed or leaned into, and that breath of fresh air that he claimed you were had been tarnished and sexualized within weeks.

Truly, it didn’t matter what had been the final determining factor to the end of your relationship. In the end, at the bitter ashen resolution, Hayden had still pitied you and looked upon you as if you were nothing more than a glorified babysitter with little promise.

It was another harsh dose of reality that you would’ve never irked, coming from the conversation before your interview and the phone call taken after your interview.

Although he had wanted to rekindle what you had, and although he was certainly charming enough to win over most women without much effort, the condescending edge to his affections and his desire would never allow him to move past his inherited prejudices.

The conversation after you’d accepted the job had turned into an argument, and that argument had bled into exhaustion that had you falling asleep late in the night with little hope for a truly restful sleep.

When your alarm had blared in the morning, you rose from the bed cantankerously. Your entire morning was rooted around the anxiety-inducing need not to be late for your first day and despite being as exhausted as you were, you moved quickly to gather what you needed and complete the list of tasks you’d had in your mind.

Everything from the basic routine needs, the basics that had to be done before you even packed, had been completed through grogginess that hovered above you. A figurative cloud promising rain and thunder, a mini storm that swirled with ambitious plans to follow you everywhere, had been felt through every step you crossed off in your mind.

Even as the clock struck 8:15 in the morning and you were pulling your shoes on your feet, you were afflicted by the figurative storm cloud and the derivative conversation turned argument that you’d had with Hayden. There was seemingly no end to the nature of his pitying thoughts of you, of his natural subjective opinions over your choices that inherently angered you, and made you want to strike him across the face with a hot skillet.

“I want you there at 8:30, new girl.” You huffed, you blew out a puff of air as you closed your apartment door behind you.

You locked it, wondering when you would be back next and if you’d packed enough. Curtis hadn’t talked about a schedule, neither had Pari mentioned once and you wondered how long you’d be working before you could come back to your apartment. While it had seemed like a conversation you should have with your boss, the idea of asking him when your day off before you’d even started was putting you at odds with yourself.

Or maybe it was your overall displeasure with Hayden and his harsh idealism retaining to you and your life.

A breath of fresh air—you scoffed at the idea, coming to realize that he was if truth be told, using you to piss off his father or take hold of some unplanned fun before his world was set right again. He was, by extension, deciding to gain some last taste of untethered fun before he had to find himself a sensible girlfriend and wife.

After your third set alarm blared for you to move your ass, and not end up being late for your first day, you shrugged off the last few optional tasks you’d wanted to have done before you left. With your hair pulled out of your face and a pair of cheap yet unnerving runners on your feet, you were halfway out the door before you turned back.

You couldn’t have prevented yourself from thinking about the lack of personality in the twins’ room, the lack of anything fun or objectionably childlike in the place that should have felt safe for them, bothered you. It was acid eating at your insides, lightly and slowly tearing away at your composure until you acted on the urgency to change that.

Your trek back into your apartment had led you to your bedroom, and even further beyond that, to a pair of cute stuffed animals you’d had since you were a child.

Unassuming and ordinary as they were, they’d made you feel safe and comforted.

The first you’d grabbed from the top of your dresser was light brown, almost sandy-like, with black eyes sewn into the plushy face right above the soft velour muzzle. It was one of your favourite bears as a child, one that you’d named Beartholomew.

The other stuffed animal you’d chosen to take was Snoopy, though he was far from ordinary or plain. With a sturdy and fuzzy set of yellow ears muffs on his head, and a light blue jacket with faux bone ties to hold the jacket closed, it was your favourite version of Snoopy ready for winter.

It was a favourite, it was a comfort and you’d only hoped that Theo & James would like them as much as you had.

The final alarm rang, and it was the catalyst to get you to leave. With the teddy bears in hand, you finally stole yourself from the apartment, hurrying down the staircases to the lobby and then out the front door.

“You’re going to be late,” the driver Pari had told you about the night before was already waiting for you in a blacked-out SUV, the rear passenger door propped open for you, “I’m not taking the fall for you.”

“Good morning to you too.” You mumbled under your breath, resisting the temptation to roll your eyes and instead settling yourself in the backseat with your chosen teddy bears beside you. “I’m not going to be late.”

“Have you ever tried to cross town at this time?” The driver was older than yourself, and likely Curtis, though there was the briefest skiff of greying hair at the nape of his neck and by his ears. “They’re gonna eat you alive.”

You raised your head when he added the last antagonizing comment, a complete lack of faith in your position and the apparent gentility that you seemed to radiate.

You wanted to open your mouth to make a retort in your defence, however, you weren’t given much of a chance when the driver started pulling away from the curb, and your phone started lighting up with text messages from Hayden.

Another feeble attempt to get you to agree to see him, another failed plea to let him have access to you and your body before he complied with his fathers’ wishes.

“Pointless,” you flipped your phone over screen down and negated to answer him, rather you watched the streets pass by as you mentally counted how many avenues were between you and the Curtis’ estate, a great difference between your station and his.

The unruliness of the twins running back and forth across the foyer with a sheet behind them was the first of many sights that had greeted you the moment you stepped into the house.

With muddy footprints traipsing from beyond your view, to the staircase and back around the other side of the hallway, it seemed as if the entire entrance was chaotically locked in madness.

Theo was the ringleader, you’d surmised from watching him in the few moments since your arrival, with a series of cave-man screeches as he crossed down the foyer to a hall and out of sight, while James was following behind his brother with not as much destructive energy.

You watched them with shock and awe, mystified by their presence and attitude toward creating a disaster, and by the huffing and puffing of the maid as she scoffed at the destruction.

“You’re the nanny,” your cantankerous driver looked you over unimpressed, “start doing your job.”

You settled yourself with the idea that you were being thrown headfirst into the job and into the state of needing to help the twins learn right from wrong and with that knowledge, you’d caught Theo and James when they tried to peel back around the foyer.

“Stop!” You raised your voice with just enough force to send the twins sliding into each other.

The older, only by seconds, Theo had skidded unsuccessfully and nearly toppled forward when James had tried to stop on a dime. Both of the boys looked at you with wide eyes, simpering with fear that came from, or you thought, the idea of some unfair punishment.

Theo was the first to turn toward you, looking at you far more head-on than before, and his blue eyes darted between the teddy bears in your hands and your face, still anticipating some kind of reaction that was over the top.

“Did you make this mess?” You questioned the twins, motioning with your hand to the muddy footsteps and the discarded shoes toppled and thrown in the corner. “Did you drag mud into the house?”

“It’s the new nanny,” James leaned forward and whispered in Theo’s ear, the two of them unsure of what to think of you now that you were officially starting your job, “what do we do?”

You negated to answer James’ comment and instead side-eyed the housekeeper who was still irritated and put off by the dirtiness of the floors she had just cleaned. While she hadn’t looked entirely cross to the point of no return, she was less than happy with the two.

“Theo, James…” You paused, taking a moment to make sure your voice was even and calm, to keep it controlled and not to provoke any anxiety within themselves.

There was no necessary force needed to deal with the twins, and whether it was your intuition or what Pari had told you about the previous nannies not giving Theo and James the ability to be kids, it had affected your approach.

“Can we take a quick pause?” The boys looked at you with wide eyes, their lips barely parted and their hands clutching the sheet-turned-cape and some fake foam sword. “I know you’re trying to have fun you dragged mud all over the clean floor, and your shoes are lying all over the place.”

It was as if lightbulbs had gone off in the twins heads and they were aware of what they’d done, and with a slow look around at the discarded shoes, the muddy footprints, the toys they’d dragged from their playroom and even the sheet, their playfulness was replaced with deep frowns.

“I have something for you,” you stepped dropped your blacked bag to the floor and stepped toward the twins, stuffed bear and Snoopy in your hands, crouching before them as they eyed you suspiciously, “this is Beartholomew, and this is Snoopy. I loved them when I was a kid, and I thought maybe you’d like to keep them safe for a while?”

You held out the stuffed animals for the boys, watching Theo grab the Snoopy and James reach for Beartholomew, both boys tucking them to their chests.

“Thank you,” James reply was quiet and he had squeezed his given bear, and then he bit down on his bottom lip, turning to look at the mess, “do we have to clean it up?”

The housekeeper had cleared her throat addressing you with a subtle sound and with a single look had flexed her fingers around the mop handle. With an understanding that suited both them and yourself, you had started to stand with a little smile.

“Pick up your shoes, put the sheet back where it came from and then go play.” You addressed them with a level of calm, hoping not to get off the wrong foot with them and solidify a certain level of trust compared to the other nannies they’d had before.

“And apologize for making a mess.” You stopped them before they took off, the boys looking back over their shoulders to utter a quiet apology before adhering to your request, first grabbing their shoes and then taking off up the stairs.

As they left up the stairs, you’d turned back to the bag you packed and had become immediately startled by the imposing figure standing behind you, with piercing blue eyes.

Curtis had looked you over with unwavering amusement and some other guarded secrets contained in his irises. He raised his hand and ran his palm over his chin and jaw, lips drawn into a smirk before he opened his mouth and with a single statement irritated you.

“You were late.”

Permanent Tags List: @jennmurawski13-writes @beardburnsupersoldiers @rebekahdawkins @supraveng @bookfrog242 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @loveitorleaveit20 @alexakeyloveloki @socalgem1124 @mogaruke @dreamlessinparis @frisky975 @dispatchvampire @hereforbuckyandsteve @jesgisborne @fairybnha3 @hallecarey1 @tang082646 @mrslokibarnesrogers @deputy-videogamer @posionivy0061 @loving-life-my-way @kaylamcd2000 @mercyy98 @rootcrop @whatinthestyles @slutforsteve @cornmousequeen @rededfoxy @yagurl-snow @glimmering-darling-dolly @patzammit @buckymydarlingangel @missusbarnes-rogers @andy-is-gay @nervousfandom @rileyloves5 @emi11ie @carelessreadersstuff @readingandwritingandreading @cynic-spirit @inkedaztec @gh0stgurl @cats-and-sheep @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @teambarnes72 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @miss-rebel-without-applause

[imaginedreamwrite]

#7 could be Permanent Claim. Curtis strikes me as man who usually never gets drunk, but when he does, Reader gets messages like these.

Club business had taken Curtis away from the house for the night and well into the early hours of the morning. Even before he had left the house, Curtis was astute about giving Theo & James a hug before bed and a quick tuck in. He had kissed their foreheads and promised them that he’d be safe, whispering his intent to take them out tomorrow afternoon to a ballgame.

And after Curtis had told them goodnight, he found you in the living room wrapped in a big fluffy blanket with a glass of wine and your favourite salty snack.

“You didn’t think I’d come say goodbye to you?” Curtis stooped low and kissed your slowly, intimately and maddeningly, only pulling away when you tried to chase the kiss.

“You gonna be my good girl, Mousey?” Curtis’ silver tongue teased you with every rise and fall of his voice, and his eyes communicated how desperately he wanted you even as he was preparing to leave.

“You know I reward good girls.” He added the last quip while dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes blazing with desire and need. “Do you want to be rewarded?”

Curtis hadn’t inherently waited for an answer. He had slipped on his leather jacket and left, leaving you on the couch with a slack jaw and wide eyes. You watched as he left, leaving you alone to deal with continued desire.

Your night was quiet after he had left, with the twins sleeping upstairs you were left to your own devices. It was a quarter after 11 when you finally crawled into bed and fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. You were tucked in and sleeping, resting comfortably in yours and Curtis’ bed until the buzzing and subtle chiming of your phone had woken you up.

You reached for the night stand and blinked sleepily as you tried to focus on the messages on the screen, seeing Curtis’ name pop up.

IK I’m drunk but listen

Im gonna wife you up one day

That’s all

Goodnight

Realization hit you, and you’d fallen back into the bed with wide eyes and fire burning in your belly. His message was concise and clear, desire imminently surging through every word of his texts. You clutched your phone and let your mind wander toward the possibilities of what that could contain for you, a future as Mrs. Everett.

Was it minutes that you lay still? Or close to an hour?

When you finally found yourself wanting to sleep again, you rolled over onto your side and placed your phone back on your nightstand. It was a quick drop, the phone slipping from your hand and clattering to the floor as Curtis stumbled through the bedroom door and cocked his head.

“Mousey, fuck me…” his jacket was ripped from his body, his shirt thrown to the floor leaving you stunned until the door clicked shut and the melodic chime of the metal from his belt fell to the floor.

“Seriously,” he groaned and stepped toward you, “fuck me.”

[imaginedreamwrite]

A Permanent Claim: Part 3

He could still feel the hit of his last cigarette on his tongue, the buzz from the nicotine placing him in a well enough mood to face the potential nanny that Pari had talked to.

The buzz from the dart that he’d finished before leaving the club was easing his aggression, halting his dire mood at least until he had taken stock of the woman that would be responsible for his twins when he wasn’t there.

It was a process to find someone who wasn’t willing to tamper down his kid’s excitement and eagerness to explore the world around them.

There had been a number of nannies that had come into the house only to quit within days or weeks, driven out by his twins chaotic and wild energy or their dislike of the ridgid women who tried to control their entire day.

Curtis had been through almost every nanny agency and every available caretaker without finding any long-term care for his twins, through his sons actions or his dislike for the women. They were young, they didn’t need ridgid schedules and mandatory quiet hours, and they didn’t need some nanny to enter their home attempting to reshape them into something they weren’t.

Going through the agencies that regurgitated the same kind of caretakers over and over had left Curtis angered by the lack of coordination for what he needed and what they thought he wanted. It was endless, having nanny after nanny come through his home only to be pushed away or quit because his boys were unhappy because of how they treated them.

His twins were his entire world, his twins were the most important people in his life and that had driven Curtis to find someone who would care about them in the same way he had. He didn’t want someone who looked at them like they were some problem that needed to be corrected or fixed, he needed someone who gave a damn about the little boys that he would die for.

I found a nanny, she’ll be perfect. Don’t be an asshole when you meet her — Pari

Curtis received the text a half hour before he had left the club, the message coming across with a subtle warning that both Pari and her boyfriend would give him hell if he tried to intimidate this new potential nanny. Curtis had felt momentary relief by the threat that was made, between the lines of Pari’s text, with the thinly veiled threat meaning that this nanny could be the one he was looking for.

It was weighing on his mind from the time he left the club and started making his way home, the hopeful draw of having someone good to watch his kids. Since his ex had walked out on him and his boys when they were just over a month old, denying any parental rights for them, Curtis had been working his ass off to give them everything they would ever need.

He was a single parent though he had a strong support network from the close members of the club and their significant others. They had all adored Theo and James as if they were their own, and there had never been a singular moment where Curtis had regretted doing it without their birth mother.

His ex walking away from him and his boys was the best damn thing to happen to him. He had never contacted her about coming back, he never tried to rekindle the sexual relationship that led to them having twins. He had let what happened between them die and turn to ash, and as far as he knew she was off on the coast living with some guy she met online while sleeping around on him.

I mean it. Don’t be an ass — Pari

The second message had come through his phone while he was reaching for the doorknob of the garage, his hand hovering above the sleek silver metal while he read the message. Without responding Curtis slipped his phone back into his leather jacket and then turned the handle, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

He kicked his boots off to the left not caring where they landed and slammed the door shut, just as quickly taking his phone out of his pocket before shrugging his jacket off and letting it drop where he stood. He stepped over the rumpled leather, following the sound of the quiet conversation coming from the kitchen where he found his boys huddled by the table and Pari standing by the fridge.

“Daddy’s back!” Theo stopped what he was doing, dropping the crayon in his hand to the plain page he had been colouring on and then scrambled across the table.

He jumped from the edge and scurried toward Curtis, launching himself at his legs to squeeze him tightly. Curtis had hugged Theo back while watching James focus on the drawing he was creating, admiring his son when he stuck his tongue out in order to concentrate on what he was doing.

“Where’s the nanny?” Curtis questioned Pari, raising an eyebrow when she turned to face him with her arms crossed over her chest. “Did she leave already?”

“She is amazing by the way,” Pari hadn’t answered his snarky question, instead she stepped away from the fridge and walked toward Curtis, first brushing Theo’s hair back and then she rest her hand upon Curtis’ shoulder, “I mean it, if you be an asshole-“

“That’s a bad word.” James piped up from the table, raising his head to look at his aunt with furrowed brows. “That’s a bad word right?”

“What’s a bad word?” As he heard someone else speak, Curtis glanced over his shoulder toward the potential nanny Pari had mentioned.

He knew from first glance that this nanny was nothing like the others who had shown up, the other women who had an air of sophisticated arrogance about them. All it took was a first glance at this potential nanny to know that she was different, almost cathartically so, from the others.

“Asshole, that’s a bad word right?” James innocently tilted his head as his mouth pursed, one of the crayons he was using placed between his upper and bottom lip as he waited for an answer.

“That’s…” Curtis studied you, the corner of his lips twitching as a smirk threatened to form when you seemed not to notice him. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“See, bad word.” James shook his head, glancing at his drawing with a look of complete and utter focus before he shrugged. “Daddy’s back.”

Curtis had bent to lift Theo from the floor, resting his oldest twin against his hip securely holding him in place. As Theo rest his head against Curtis’ shoulder, he had gotten a better look at you.

When you had finally realized he was there, you turned slowly to face him giving him a full and unobstructed view of you. He had raked his eyes over you in a slow and calculating way, from the mismatched socks that were both patterned to the pair of jeans you chose to wear that fit you like a glove.

The material clung to your thighs and hips, so well fitted to you Curtis wondered if they weren’t painted on. And as his speculative gaze rose further, a smirk had tugged on his lips when he watched you squirm and avert your eyes with anxiousness that was fuelled by his heady stare.

One look was all it took to get a full picture of who you were and what you were like. You were a good girl, someone who was quiet and bashful, almost skittish and afraid to have a lot of attention on you all at once.

“Curtis-“ Pari addressed him, her honey-laced brown eyes narrowing with a warning as her jaw ticked, the threat lingering on the back of his mind.

“So you’re the new nanny?” Curtis drew your attention back to himself, your eyes briefly meeting his though it was quick-lived. “Do you have a name?”

“Y/N,” you spoke quietly, mumbling your name while you shifted your weight from foot to foot.

You were intimidated by him, though he couldn’t discern if it was his appearance that scared you or if it was his reputation that frightened you. Regardless, he was overtly aware of the rise and fall of your chest with every tempered breath and the skittishness that you felt when he stepped toward you.

“Couldn’t hear you, wanna repeat yourself?” He was amused by you and your bashfulness, the way you wouldn’t or couldn’t look at him for longer than a few moments felt incredibly exhilarating.

He had come across more women that couldn’t stop looking at him, more women who were bold and emblazoned by their attraction to him. It was arrogant of him, he surmised, to be so immune to the way they had stared. But you, right now, unable to look at him was addictive. He was far more interested and immediately taken by your shyness than he ever would have been with a bolder woman.

“Y/N,” you spoke more clearly, finally looking at him although he could see the uncertainty in your eyes. “Y/N L/N.”

“Y/N.” He spoke your name with a half-smirk and simmering eyes.

You were quiet, like a little mouse caught in the vision of a cat on the hunt, unable to move without fear of being caught in the clutch of sharp claws. You weren’t aware of his reputation, he knew you couldn’t have been or else you wouldn’t be here in this house. If you had known what he was capable of…

“Have you been a nanny before?” While Curtis was questioning you, Theo had squirmed in his grasp and he relented to crouch down and let his son go, watching him as he moved back toward the table and his drawing.

“I have…I’ve never been a nanny but I have a full education in-“ you looked toward Pari, nervously licking your bottom lip with bubbling anxiety.

“She’s got a degree in early childhood education, she’s certified in first aid and she knows CPR,” Pari answered for you, her eyes becoming knitted and her lips turning to a scowl. “Dickhead.”

Curtis bit back a laugh and drew his hand to his face, running his palm over the edge of his beard to stifle a smirk.

He watched you from the corner of his eyes, reacting with shock at the way Pari had spoken to him in such a brash measure although he couldn’t blame you for your reaction. You didn’t know how close Pari was to Curtis and his twins. You didn’t know that beyond her being their non-blood-related aunt, Pari was also like a sister to Curtis.

Of the few people who could’ve talked back to Curtis and call him every cursed name under the sun, Pari was one of the few who could get away completely unscathed. He trusted her not just with his kids but with the process of choosing a nanny since she had helped him out with the constant shift in nannies that came through like a revolving door. Curtis knew that Pari wouldn’t have threatened to kick Curtis’ ass if she hadn’t thought you were worth keeping around.

“Are you in a relationship?” Curtis next question had caught you off guard, and he could easily picture the wheels in your head spinning as you pondered why he asked in the manner that he had.

“Umm…” Again, you looked at Pari and Curtis was struck by another jolt of amusement over your reaction to his question. “Are you allowed to ask me that?”

“I can ask you whatever I want.” Curtis crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles contracting and straining against his plain black shirt, tattoos peering under the hems of his sleeves.

“Curtis is being a dick.” Pari shot him a dangerous look, venom radiating from her warm honey-laced brown eyes.

“I’m keeping my kids in mind, Pari. I’m not going to have some random man-“ He countered Pari’s argument, the two of them verbally combatting each other.

“I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not…” you swallowed and drew out a short breath, wiping your hands on your jeans. “I’m single and even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t bring them around your kids. That’s…that’s not okay.”

Curtis looked past you toward his twins, watching the two of them colouring on pages that had been blank and now were filled with the works of their imaginations.

While Theo had conceptualized the image of a ship on the ocean with sharks and fish swimming in the water, James had drawn his idea of a forest with overhanging trees and snakes hiding in the grass. The two were almost oblivious to what was going on around them, they were in their worlds enjoying something they loved to do.

“This is a live-in nanny position, you stay here until you’re not needed-“

“Curtis she knows, I told her everything.” Pari was adamant about coming to your defence, it was clear that she liked you and believed you would be best for the role even without Curtis truly grilling you as he should have.

“I’m okay with that. Being here I mean, as a live-in nanny. I was kind of expecting it…” you shifted your weight from your left foot to your right and chewed on the inside of your cheek, one of the many nervous habits he was sure you had.

“Pari take her home. Theo, James, upstairs and get ready for bed.” Curtis spoke with finality, ending the conversation and what little interview there was.

“I don’t-“

“I better see you here tomorrow, new girl. I want you here at 8:30, don’t be late.” He spoke with gruffness, giving you a curt demanding start time for your first day with underlying expectations that he wouldn’t listen to bullshit excuses if you were late.

“Should I-“

“Dickhead.” Pari rolled her eyes at Curtis as he passed by you with Theo and James running off ahead, scoffing at him then ushering you toward the front door with her in tow.

Curtis climbed the stairs to the upper level and stopped, glanced over his shoulder to witness the front door closing and then drew his lips into a crooked grin.

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[imaginedreamwrite]

Oh gosh! 5 definitely Curtis and Mousey in the kitchen 🔥

“You’re a little mouthy.” He let the comment slip, the edge of his mouth twitching in restraint to the smirk that was on the cusp of forming.

“Mouthy?” There was a gentle pad of your hand on the counter, your smack dull and mildly intimidating. “I am not mouthy.”

Curtis turned his head, eyes cast over his shoulder to look at you as you scoffed and rolled your eyes. You were on the other side of the kitchen island, cutting up some celery for the twins request of ants on a log. He watched you, as your mind likely ran, with his idea that you were argumentative.

You were beautiful, God how you made Curtis feel painfully hard with everything you did. That day you yelled at the members of his gang, scolding them like they were children was the closest he had gotten to completely breaking.

He had never been so fucking turned on by you, so desperately fucking horny. It took every ounce of strength not to drag you back and devour your sweet pussy on the table.

Sexual tension between you had never been higher.

“I am not mouthy!” You slammed the knife flat on the counter and leaned over, your eyes narrowing into a bewitching glare, your lips pursing.

Curtis turned to face you head on, crossing his arms over his chest effectively drawing your attention to the tension of his biceps and the taut stretch of his shirt over his defined muscles. The smirk he had been resisting had broken on his face when your attempt at a hard glare faltered, and your irises had widened.

And then you seemed to regain control, shaking your head.

“They deserved it you know. Worse than children.” Curtis listened to you mutter, he let you complain justifiably about the members of his biker gang as you should’ve.

While he listened he had began walking toward you, counting on you being focused on cutting and spreading peanut butter on celery, and not focused on him. He had waited until you walked around the other side of the island to make his move, first setting his large hands on your hips and then lifting you like you were weightless.

“Curtis-!” You squeaked incredulously, batting at his shoulders before falling into mild shock when he moved his hands from your hips to your waist, fingers tangled in your white shirt.

The tip of his nose brushed against yours and the smirk playing on his lips had grown when he felt you shiver against him. You didn’t know where to place your hands, first upon his shoulders and then you’d moved them to his chest before finally settling them on his neck.

“You’re a little mouthy, Mousey.” Curtis dropped his gaze to your lips, studiously memorizing every ridge and minute detail of the flesh he wanted to feel upon his own.

“I’m not-” he broke his resistance and stole the kiss, his lips possessively moving against yours as he took everything he could from the titular moment.

He heard you whine against the prod of his tongue, the sound entirely erotic and captivating. It was the single most sinful and provocative sound he heard, eliciting such powerful hunger and to the man who had heard many women in his past moaning because they thought he liked it, the small whines were beyond seductive.

“Fuck,” Curtis swore into the kiss, his hands starting to lift your shirt up your back, “fuck Mousey, you’re gonna fucking kill me.”

“I’m not-” he swallowed your protest, fingers digging into your skin, either as an attempt to mark you or because he was so desperate to feel you quake against him.

He wanted to fuck you on the counter, he wanted to drop to his knees and hold your legs open while he ate your sweet cunt. He was a man with an appetite for you, he craved you.

“Yes, you are.” Curtis pulled away, his eyes overcome with vivacious passion, need and desire.

He only pulled away to spare his boys the embarrassment of seeing their dad shoving his tongue down your throat. He only pulled away to spare them the image of their nanny and their daddy wrapped in each other.

“Hey! How come you get to sit on the counter? No fair!” James protested, a whine to the edge of his voice.

“I saved little Mousey from a spider.” Curtis offered an explanation while his eyes were still heady with lust. “Finish making their snack, Y/N. And then we can finish our conversation.”

[imaginedreamwrite]

A momentary scare — A Permanent Claim drabble

A/N: I have never been through anaphylaxis and I’m not allergic to anything so my medical knowledge might not be completely accurate

Behave, Mousey. I’ll know if you aren’t, and I’m not afraid to dole out some punishments — Curtis

“He’s still worried? He needs to relax a little, its dinner not a strip club.” Park side-eyes Nat and gives her a little smirk, the two women communicating silently while you sit around a table.

“Its Mousey,” Nat teases affectionately, “the only people Curtis is more protective over is Theo & James.”

“We’re not…” you lean forward and rest your forearms against the edge of the table. “…going to a strip club are we?”

“Not now, hun.” Nat reaches over to squeeze your hand, her smile meeting her eyes. “We’ll let you get a little more used to the club business before we throw naked men at you.”

“Or at least try to throw naked men at her. If Curtis doesn’t throw her over his shoulder first.” Pari and Nat’s teasing comes with ease, and you don’t feel dismayed by their comments.

The idea of Curtis becoming so jealous of you going to a strip club that he throws you over his shoulder was another thing altogether.

“She’s thinking of it.” Nat continued, lifting her glass to her lips. “Let that imagination run wild, its not even close to what Curtis is capable with you.”

“Oh! No, I mean I’m not…” you felt warmth pool in your belly, desire quick to follow when you think of all 6ft+ of him tossing you around.

“Ladies,” the waiter had come back to the table, first setting your drinks down, “your order will be out shortly. Another few minutes.”

“Seafood free, right? I hate to be anal but…”

“Allergies.” The waiter had nodded his head, an astute yet kind of distance in his gaze. “Everything’s taken care of.”

The waiter is quick to leave, and the three of you fall into a comfortable conversation. You drink and talk for the few minutes until your food comes, and then you add your final bits of dialogue before you start eating.

It doesn’t hit you at first, the sense that somethings wrong. Its subtle, almost as if it wasn’t there to begin with and then you feel it. You chew and swallow before you feel it becoming harder to breathe, your hands clutch the table as you recognize what’s happening.

“Y/N, sweetheart…” Natasha reaches for your hand, turning your wrist over to feel the drop in your pulse. “Call an ambulance!”

“They said it was taken care of!” Pari stands so abruptly, the chair toppled over and she’s immediately at your side, giving you support.

You feel like gasping for air yet your throw keeps growing tighter. You don’t know whether its the anxiety of going into anaphylactic shock or the idea that someone could have messed with your food that has you unable to comprehend the chaos.

“Call Curtis! Get him to meet us at the hospital!” Natasha stays behind, Pari is already leading you out toward the door.

A manager, the general manager or someone with absolute dread on their face, is coming toward you both. Your eyes burn, your skin feels hot and the urgent need to throw up is hitting you with the weight of train.

It could’ve been minutes, hours or days. You don’t recollect time between being in the restaurant to being strapped to an ambulance board. You don’t know how you managed not to completely collapse as the paramedics talk to you with muffled voices.

You feel accosted by the lights of the ambulance, you feel detrimentally conscious and aggravated with yourself for not having your EpiPen.

Everything hurts, everything is grating to your body. Your eyes begin to close as rest finds you.

“…i’m sorry…” you whisper to the person next to you, the back of an ambulance traded for a hospital bed. “…I screwed up…”

“No,” a handle yet rough hand brushes your hair back, his bright eyes linger on you, “you didn’t do anything, Mousey.”

“I didn’t know, Curtis. I told them over and over…” you felt weak still, but the oxygen mask you were given by the doctors and nurses helps enough.

“Someone fucked with your food. The cooks adhered but somewhere between it leaving the kitchen and being given to you, it was fucked with.” He leans in and brushes his lips against your forehead, kissing you softly.

“I should’ve had my EpiPen.” You whined, turning your head in embarrassment for being foolish. “I should’ve…been more careful.”

“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay.” He astutely gentle, keeping a rather level head now that he’s here though you know he likely gave someone hell.

“Theo & James..?”

“They’re taken care of. Steve’s girls’ got them.” Curtis answered you and slowly inched you over so he could lay beside you, and then he wrapped an arm around you.

“I told you not to get into trouble.” His grip on you was protective and firm, he was careful not to squeeze. “This is never happening again, Mousey.”

“Curtis-“ he stopped you before you could stop, pressing a finger to your lips.

“We’re getting you an allergy protection dog. That’s not a question, its happening. And you’re going to start carrying your EpiPen.” Curtis spoke with finality, you couldn’t have argued with him if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again, feeling emotional and anxious.

“I can’t fucking lose you, baby. I won’t lose you, I can’t.” Curtis closed his eyes and breathed in deep. “I would never recover.”

[imaginedreamwrite]

I couldn’t help it, I had to get it out of my head

You wish you could’ve slipped out before they saw each other, or at the very least before he had seen you. You wished you could’ve bowed out and fled the party before Hayden noticed you from across the room and decided to come over but by then it was too late.

With a drink in your hand and nowhere to run you were trapped. You were trapped by the weight of his eyes and the hard edge of the bar, trapped by his curiosity over how you got into a place like this. And why you, someone who was heading for a nanny job he didn’t approve of, was wearing what you were.

“Y/N?” He spoke your name like a question, coming to stand beer you with his own drink in hand. “What are you doing here?”

You raise your glass to your lips and down the alcohol, wincing as it burns your throat and you find yourself holding in a cough. You don’t know what to say to him, you don’t know how to explain yourself being in this exclusive clubhouse wearing a $5,000 dress while your boss is dealing with some of Hayden’s fathers friends.

“I’m…” you smooth down the velour, becoming increasingly hyper aware of how tightly fitting this dress was to your body. “I’m here with my…boss.”

Your boss, even as you speak the title you can feel him. You can feel his eyes on you and your skin prickles when he begins to come toward you, both predatory awareness and sparking desire accosting you. You know, with absolute truth, that Curtis and Hayden are going to meet.

And you really wished you could’ve run.

“Y/N, I-” Hayden reaches for you, he places his hand on you, and so does Curtis.

“Mousey,” Curtis speaks with an unwavering manner of calmness though the husk in his voice sends shivers down your spine, “finished your drink already?”

“Y/N, your boss is Curtis Everett?” Its the way Hayden eyes Curtis up that has you giggling nervously, scrambling to set your glass down and yank Curtis out of there. “Do you have any idea what-”

“Choose your next words wisely, boy.” The weight of Curtis arm becomes heavier as he yanks your back to his chest. “You’re not that untouchable.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me. You’re a nanny for Everett?” Hayden seems incredulous, his eyes narrowing and his attention drawn to Curtis’ arm around your waist.

“This is the ex-boyfriend you’ve told me about. The limp dick-”

“I never said that!” Your voice squeaks, it cracks as you wiggle against his chest, trying to free yourself. “I never said-”

“Do you need help? Are you in trouble? Y/N if you need money-”

“I told you to watch your fucking mouth, boy.” Its the way Curtis snarks that has you freezing like a doe in headlights, your body entirely complacent when his level of protective instincts, possessive even, counteracts Hayden’s condescension.

“She’s not your friend, she’s not your girlfriend and she doesn’t need you to save her-”

“You’re obviously doing something-” they faced off each other, the naturally born rich and the made man who many in the party feared.

“Curtis please-” you pleaded with him, begging him not to start something.

“The only thing I’m doing you cocky little rich shit,” Curtis’s arm fell from your waist and he placed a hand on your stomach, angling himself between you and Hayden, “is getting the money your daddy’s rich friends owe me. Whatever else I do is none of your fucking business especially when it comes to my girl. You understand me?”

“You’re dating him?” Hayden seemed off-put, possibly even disturbed by the notion. “You’re really one of those women sleeping your way to the top?”

“Curtis-!” You hissed, tugging on his hand in desperation.

“This will be the last time I show you patience,” Curtis pushed Hayden’s glass into his chest, a warning and a vow falling from Curtis’ lips, “speak to her like that again, and the next party these rich fuckers attend will be your funeral.”

He let it linger in the air, he let the threat hang around and then Curtis turned back toward you. He held you protectively again, leading you from the bar and toward the exit of the venue, his fingers digging into your side.

“I-”

“Not a word, mousey.” Curtis only spoke to open the passengers side door of his vehicle for you, though you knew there would be a conversation later.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Yes! Mousy should absolutely snap and throw the trash back at Curtis' rude biker friends! 👏

I like the idea of her being a "rare angry" type of person. Someone who rarely gets really mad... but when they do, oh... its terrifying.

You didn’t know what to initially think then you returned to the house with Theo & James, fresh from the park and ready to have a little downtime, you’d been caught off guard by the mass of motorbikes in the driveway.

You had taken a cautious berth around the number of expensive Harleys that were parked unruly on the asphalt, keeping as much distance between polished chrome, steel and the black leather of their bikes.

“Daddy’s got friends over.” James attempted to remain nonchalant about the members of Curtis’ club that were here, even trying to shrug off the flicker of unease that flashed in his eyes.

“Let’s go inside, you can have a snack.” You urged Theo and James to head inside, following behind them after taking another glance at the bikes parked.

As you stepped into the house and closed the door behind you, you snapped your head up when Theo had spoken with an air of disgust.

“That’s a big mess.” Theo frowned, his bright eyes looking around the entrance to the mud room and the opening to the rest of the house with furrowed brows.

The mudroom and entrance were hardly navigable with almost every square inch of tile being covered by leather jackets thrown carelessly onto the floor. There was an even mix of boots tossed precariously beyond the threshold of the room, with thick globs of mud that was beaten down between the treads of their boots caked on the floor.

“Y/N,” James tugged on your hand, stealing your attention from the mess to himself, “the floor was just cleaned.”

“I know.” You sucked in air, and rest your hands on your hips, taking a slow and scrupulous look at the disaster they’d left upon their arrival. “Theo, James, why don’t you two go get a bag of goldfish and head upstairs to play?”

“What are you gonna do?” Theo asked, making a game out of jumping over the disaster.

“I’ll be there soon, I’m just gonna…” you paused, becoming more unnerved by the complete lack of care given to the house that had just been cleaned. “You go. I’ll be there right away.”

While it hadn’t taken long for Theo and James to rush off with the promise of goldfish and unrestricted playing, it had taken you a minute of deep contemplation to decide your next move. It would have been easier for you to shrug off the lack of respect for the housekeeper, Enid than it would have been to attempt a confrontation.

It would have been easier for you to let it go and continue with your original plan, you couldn’t let it go and move past the mess they’d made with ease. The state of the mess they’d left without giving a damn were sparks that had ignited a fire inside of you, and being helpless to stop it, you had bent and started gathering as much as you could into your arms.

You were being led by vehement anger, yanking leather jackets thrown carelessly around and boots that left disgusting patches of mud on the previously clean floor. It was an unstoppable rage that had you stalking toward the lounge where Curtis had his friends over, your arms strained by the bundle of trash you were trying to hold onto.

“This is disgusting.” you scoffed and upon arriving at the door, you’d somehow managed to turn the handle and stumble inside.

“Excuse me, sweetheart, this is a closed meeting-“ You dropped the garbled mess to the floor, save for one boot, and tossed it toward the burly biker speaking to you.

“Don’t you sweetheart me, you asshole. Who the hell do you think you are to make a mess on freshly cleaned floors? FRESHLY cleaned.” Your temper rose, and your ability to likely maim and mangle them was a very real possibility in the state of mind you were in.

“Were all of you raised in a barn? Do you understand the basic principles of manners?” All eyes were on you, every head turning to look at you and the mess on the floor that you’d dragged in.

“What the fuck-“ You stooped to grab another boot, using every ounce of your rage to throw it toward another biker, the heel knocking him in the jaw with enough force to make him curse.

“You’re disgusting! Every single one of you is disgusting. Do you have any idea how long it takes Enid to clean up this mess and then you come in here and track mud all over the place?” You were being fuelled by adrenaline pumping through your veins as you balled up the leather jackets and threw as many as you could at whoever was closest to you.

“Everett-!”

“The twins know better than you and they’re five!” you huffed, throwing the last of the boots toward whatever men or women you could, your exasperation drawing a few smirks from some of the more familiar faces. “Learn some damn manners, or take your shit off outside!”

With your point made, you turned harshly on your heel and stalked back toward the door. You turned the handle and ripped the barrier between you and the hall open, steam billowing from your ears while you stepped out and slammed the door behind you.

“Disgusting!” You shouted back over your shoulder, taking a path back toward the mess with a contemptible scowl. You debated cleaning up the mess, doubting that the would give a damn, before you changed your mind and headed toward the staircase, choosing instead to go play with Theo and James.

[imaginedreamwrite]

“Can you help me?” You don’t need to ask but you do anyway, asking Curtis as you turn your back to him for help sipping up your dress.

You’ve been invited to one of his friends weddings, a guest to the event with Theo and James being taken care of by a trusted babysitter. It was a child free wedding and when Curtis had first asked you thought he was asking you to watch his kids. You had never anticipated him wanting to take you as a date, to have you on his arm the entire night.

“You look beautiful,” Curtis stepped behind you, leaning in to trail his lips across your back from one shoulder to the next, “this dress suits you.”

“Thank you, Curtis.” Your heart begins racing upon his touch, the subtle and soft way his knuckles touch your flesh as he pulls the zipper up to close the dress around you.

“You don’t need to be nervous, relax sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear, hands rubbing up and down your arms twice to warm you. “Take a load off, we’ll have fun.”

“Fun,” you shiver as you speak, your eyes fluttering closed and an elated, airy sigh falls from your lips, “at a wedding with you-“

“Don’t you think I can make good company?” He whispers in your ear, turning you to face him as his hands tilts your head. “Don’t you think I can keep you entertained?”

“Curtis, i don’t-” your eyes search his, your gaze is captivated and held by his, and you shiver again when he slips a hand around to the small of your back to pull you flush against him.

“Trust me honey,” Curtis taps his thumb against your bottom lip, “I’ll make sure you have fun tonight.”

There’s pressure around your waist, pressure and the weight of a pair of arms that keep you held against a solid chest. You try to move once, just once, and feel the arms tighten around your waist as a gravely voice against your neck.

“Don’t move, Mousey.” Curtis’ voice is husky and deep, the dulcet tone of his voice stirs you from your slumber with an egregious jolt. “I mean, don’t be a bad girl.”

You squeak in response, almost flailing when he rolls over with you in his arms. You find yourself laying under his body, trapped against his chest pinned by his strength and his bright eyes. Curtis leans in to nudge his nose into your jaw, bumping you lightly to give you access to your neck.

“Curtis did we…” you trail off, eyes closing slowly when his tongue meets your neck, his lips move against your flesh in a heated sensual pattern.

“No, baby. No we didn’t do anything. You,” Curtis spoke low against your earlobe, “had fun and got a little tipsy. I had to carry you back to the car, I had to carry you inside and tuck you into bed.”

“How’d I end up here?” You pushed yourself back against the pillows, looking up at him with wide eyes. “In your bed?”

“You wanted to stay with me, you didn’t want me to leave. I stayed with you.” Curtis brushed your hair back, searching your face. “Its early, go back to sleep. I’ll get the twins up and fed.”

“But I-”

“Sleep, beautiful.”

[imaginedreamwrite]

Oh! For the monday ask game; playful and intimate with mousey and curtis for picture #3.

Don’t forget about the bake sale for the field trip! At least a dozen baked goods of any one kind would be greatly appreciated! — Miss Steeves

Curtis had taken the task upon himself to try and bake for Theo & James kindergarten class, the endless list of what he could make was cut short and dwindled down to the essentials.

He had greatly overestimated the task of baking something as simple as cupcakes or sugar cookies, overwhelmed by the demands and requests of his twins. They didn’t, or couldn’t, decide on a flavour and design, they wanted both cupcakes and sugar cookies, they wanted them cut out into shapes or decorated on the top.

Curtis had caved before he even attempted to add the first ingredient, calling on the better man for the job. He was elated to see you coming back to the house after you’d been given the weekend off, armed to the teeth with baking supplies. Curtis had been made aware that he was lacking in more than one sense when you’d taken the ingredients out of your shopping bags and lined them up.

“A big biker like you doesn’t know how to bake? I am shook.” You teased and yelped when he smacked your ass playfully, warning you about your hissy attitude.

“Boys,” you addressed Theo & James with the same honey laced kindness as always, helping them slip on an apron, “you have to listen, right?”

“Yes mama!” James bounced on his heels, adhering the distinguishing title to you with pride. “What’s first?”

Curtis noticed the way your heart melted, reflected through your eyes, and you’d moved onto the task at hand to avoid simpering. You first directed the twins to the cookbook you’d brought from home, telling them to choose between one or the other, a decision that was made faster than he anticipated.

“Daddy’s gonna help too.” Their tugged on his hand, urging him to step beside you. “What can daddy do, mama?”

“Can you crack eggs without getting shells in?” You teased him, nudging your hip against his. “With your big hands-”

“Mousey,” Curtis leaned in to growl playfully in your ear, “you have no idea what these hands are capable of.”

“Well…” you nibbled down on your bottom lip and, brashly for you, pushed a little more. “…I’d like to know someday.”

Curtis whacked the eggs against the counter, carefully and perfectly splitting the shell. He held them above the bowl and dumped the eggs into the mixture, all while keep his eyes on you. It was a test, a challenge of sorts, to see who would bend first.

“You will, I promise.” He tossed the eggs into the trash and drew his hand toward your chin, wiping flour from you. “What’s next, master chef?”

“Mixing.” You spoke airily, turning your attention to Theo & James. “Carefully, try not to spill.”

You had to turn away from Curtis, he knew your bashful nature wouldn’t allow you to remain under his direct eye contact. He watched you turn toward his sons, he watched you explain the process with gentility and patience.

Even when the chosen confections were made and set out to cool, he watched you. He helped you clean up the mess while the twins went off to play, and when then moment was right he had made his move.

“Mousey,” he enveloped your waist with his strong thick arms, “thank you for today.”

His lips grazed the shell of your ear, he felt you quiver in his hold. Curtis couldn’t stop the smirk, he couldn’t stop the feeling of unhindered elation as you melted into his hold.

“I would do anything for them,” you whispered, turning your head to rest your chin against him as best as you could, “and you, Curtis. I would….do whatever-”

“Go on a date with me, Mousey. Dinner.” He hummed in your ear, slowly swaying you to his own made up tune. “Dinner tomorrow, just you and I.”

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but your answer came quick. “Yes.”

[imaginedreamwrite]

Okay #5 of the new picture set is totally Mousey, Theo and James taking a picture to send Curtis.

Curtis drew his hand up to his mouth, the cigarette trapped between his fingertips was burning hot and as he inhaled the smoke, he unlocked his phone to find your contact name. Curtis removed the cigarette from his lips and exhaled the puff of smoke, using his free hand to type on the keyboard sending you a direct and poignant message.

Staying out of trouble, Mousey? Send me a picture — Curtis

He was away on business, dealing with a toxic thorn in his side that drew aggression within him. He left his boys behind with his adorable little sweetheart to deal with his problem that wouldn’t go away on his own. This cocky bastard that tried to hide from Curtis was going to suffer the longer he kept Curtis from his family.

Now? A picture now? — Mousey

Yes now, don’t be a bad girl — Curtis

He knew how to get to you, he knew that you were affected by the way he spoke even if it was through a text message. He could see it now, he could picture the way you squirmed and squeaked at his words and the tone he would’ve used if he was there with you. The soft husky tone that would’ve sent shivers down your spine and had you turning to mush in his hands.

Don’t keep me waiting, Mousey — Curtis

Curtis leaned back against the bed, bending his knee as he shifted positions. He rest his elbow upon his kneecap and kept his phone tucked between his hands, waiting for your next message. Every spare minute he waited for you was another chance for him to think about you in the best, most erotic light.

What he would do for you, to you, was endless.

Fine. Happy? — Mousey

Curtis received the message and the picture you sent with it, the image coming through his phone steadily becoming one of his favourite pictures he’d seen. You and the twins were standing in their bedroom, the three of you wearing matching pyjamas while they clung to your leg.

Every one of you was comfortable and happy, smiling like a true family should’ve. Curtis felt emotionally charged and simultaneously weak by the picture of his family, his twin boys and his future wife.

It was beautiful, seeing you three together. Curtis studied the picture for as long as he could, committing every detail to memory as he stroked the image with his finger. Pride swelled in his chest, passion and a renewed sense of protectiveness.

We’re about to watch a movie. Happy with the picture? — Mousey

Be a good girl, stay out of trouble — Curtis

Curtis locked his phone before setting it down on the bed. His hand met the cold metal hilt of his knife, his jaw clenching as he pushed himself off the bed before he grabbed the knife and his phone, tucking both into his pocket.

He was going to finish this, deal with the little bastard, and then he was going home.