"So to recap, the theme of the end of year celebration is The Great Gatsby. Fundraising is appreciated, but my family and I can definitely cover the cost of everything needed if we must. Does anyone have any questions?"
Kit was usually humble, but she had to admit she was proud of her own leadership skills. They'd been behind in planning for the celebration, having missed a lot of meetings due to...reasons, but they'd manage to finish all the plans and start ordering and making the materials they needed to set up the event.
They'd thrown an end of year party every year for as long as Kit could remember, but this was the first year she was president of the club, so she wanted to do something memorable. She'd been the one to choose the theme. The Great Gatsby was her favorite book for many reasons, but she happened to adore the aesthetic the most. The feel of the roaring 20s in the eyes of the newly rich was to die for.
Gosh, now she sounded like Esme...
"Kit, I can handle the business part this year, if you want," offered the high voice of a small freshman girl, Lola, as they were packing up.
"Oh, thank you so much!" Kit said grinning, "it'd been driving me crazy trying to do the budget. I hear you're good at math, way better than I am."
Lola blushed and looked away, returning to pack up her things.
"You did a great job, by the way," a voice said from behind Kit.
"Oh, thank you Dewey," Kit said smiling, appreciating the boy's complement.
Dewey had just moved there from his base in the Mortman Mountains. Apparently, Ernest and Frank's mother wanted her family together, having missed her third triplet dearly.
"I love the Great Gatsby," Dewey continued, "its one of my favorite novels."
"Me too," Kit agreed, "I could go on and on for hours about it, but I chose it for the theme because I love the feel of it. And I've always imagined myself going to one of Gatsby's parties."
"It's wonderful, right? I always feel like I'm there when I read it. Fitzgerald uses so much detail that it's not hard for me to transport myself into their world," Dewey explained, his eyes looking up at the ceiling in awe.
Kit smiled at him. He was such a charming boy. The kind her parents probably wanted her to marry.
"Do you need me to help you with the papers?" Dewey asked, taking notice of the large stack Kit was struggling to carry.
"Oh, sure, I would love some help," Kit said chuckling.
She felt somewhat embarrassed due to the awkward position she held while trying to manage the papers in her arms.
But Dewey simply smiled and reached to take half of the large stack, dropping some in the process, however.
"Oh shit, sorry! Let me help you with that," Kit offered, reaching down to aid him in collecting the papers.
"You're fine," he insisted, "you do so much anyways. It's the least I could do."
As he spoke this, his twisted his body, reaching out an arm to assist Kit in regaining her balance as she rose from the floor, causing the papers in his arm to graze across the skin on her arm.
"Ah!" Kid jumped in shock.
Dewey looked, in horror, down at the paper cut he'd left on her arm.
"I'm terribly sorry," he apologized quickly, "I'll help you clean that up."
"Oh, it's fine..." Kit whispered, awkwardly. She felt the familiar pleasurable tingle begin to run through her body, slowing her breath to try and accommodate for the wave of euphoria she'd been hit with all of a sudden.
She closed her eyes. She did her best to try and think of anything else in that moment, but so far it was useless.
She adored paper cuts. Olaf knew this. He'd smiled his usual devilish smile when she described to him how it felt for her.
They were the perfect mix between a stinging and burning feeling, and it drove her wild.
She recalled a specific day where she and Olaf sat together, cuddled up together in his room, as they usually were, doing their homework. She remembered dazing off into her own mind, slowly rubbing each of her fingertips across the edges of her paper and enjoying the little surge of pleasure she received once each one cut the skin. She'd been so mindless in her actions, that she was surprised to see Olaf smiling softly at her, his own eyes lidded from pleasure he felt from watching her. She'd blushed in embarrassment, only to be reassured by him that he loved it and that she should to.
Kit blushed to herself, remembering him pouring peroxide on the cuts, causing them to burn even more as they were cleansed. They'd ground against each other, overwhelmed by how the other could make them feel, desperately waiting for Olaf to finish clumsily putting on the bandages so they could run to the bed and embrace each other.
They had a strange dynamic which had terrified Kit at first, but now she couldn't get enough or be more proud of it.
Except for now. When she was away from him and in front of a strange boy who had no idea how good he'd just made her feel. She couldn't tell him either. She'd feel embarrassed, since most people didn't understand and reacted in a way that made her feel like a psychopath, but most importantly she'd feel guilty. Guilty because it wasn't her Olaf.
"K-Kit? Are you okay?" Dewey asked shyly, clearly confused by her current expression.
"Oh y-yes, sorry," she began, although clearly still having a hard time controlling the way she felt, "I just..."
"It's okay. I didn't realize paper cuts hurt so much for you," he apologized.
Was it just her, or had his voice gotten deeper when he said that. Deeper and...huskier?
"I carry a first aid kit on me at all times. I've got somethings to clean the cut in it," he continued.
Kit watched through lidded eyes as he reached into his own book bag to pull out the first aid kit, seeing as he immediately grabbed the sanitation wipes used to clean wounds.
Dewey grabbed her wrist and examined her cut, running his finger over slowly. Kit felt her body tense up as he diverted his eyes to look at her, a strange expression on his face.
What the fuck was happening?
She did her best to keep her composure...until he squeezed it. He pinched the wound to try and make it bleed in order to keep any infection out, which only made the pain increase times 1000 for Kit.
Like any person, she tried biting the inside of her cheek go try and distract herself from the sensation she felt in her wrist, but for Kit it only gave her more pleasure.
So she resorted to the last thing she could to keep from moaning very loudly. She frantically tried to think of words to divert her attention to anything else.
"U-Um i was thinking f-for the event, we could h-have the school band play some music from the twenties. Y-You know? To try and put everyone in the right a-atmosphere," she stuttered out, eyes looking everywhere but at him.
Dewey didn't respond and Kit was almost sure that she saw him smirk slightly as he focused his attention on her wound.
He finally stopped pinching her wound and Kit was able to let out a small sigh of relief.
Big mistake.
As soon as he'd released her skin, he'd opened one of the sanitation packets and applied one of the damp towelette to her skin.
So the end of her sigh turned into a short, but very audible, moan.
"Sorry, I forgot to warn you about the sting," Dewey said.
His voice was in its regular kind and naive tone, but Kit was sure she saw him smirking when he said it.
Smirking...like he knew what he was really doing to her.
Or maybe he wasn't at all. Maybe Kit was so delusionally turned on that she was imagining all these expression from him, because that's what Olaf would've been doing if he were there.
Gosh, she needed him right now.
Dewey finished wiping the wound with the towelette, and Kit was almost certain she'd heard him chuckle ever so slightly to himself.
Or maybe he didn't. She didn't know anymore. She was so far gone.
Where was Olaf when she needed him?
"Let me get you a band-aid and then we'll be all done," Dewey said cheerfully, although Kit could still hear what she thought was that hint of huskiness in it from earlier.
"Don't bother, she's fine. I'll get her one," a voice boomed, startling Dewey and snapping Kit somewhat out of her trance.
Olaf.
Kit looked up at her lover. He hadn't looked back at her yet, his gaze being fixed on Dewey. He was staring daggers at him.
She'd never seen him look so angry before...and this included watching him kill a boy who'd been trying to assault her.
She knew he'd probably been watching them before he came over. He was a person who enjoyed observing. He always liked to get the feel of places and study how the people acted. But whenever he had a certain thing his attention was fixed on, he never looked away.
And Kit was right. He had been watching.
Not for long, of course. He couldn't stand watching that for too long. It would've eaten him up inside more than it already had.
He hated him. Olaf hated Dewey. Ever since he'd moved back there to be with his family, Olaf felt the negative vibes come back with him.
And now, there he was, touching HIS precious Kit. His property.
Olaf wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow the one thing he had in his life, the one thing he'd worked so hard to get, be ripped away from him by some weakling.
He knew Denouement knew what he was doing. Call him crazy or whatever, but he knew it. He could see it in his eyes.
And Dewey had another thing coming if he thought he could take his Kit away from him that easily.
"Olaf-" Kit began.
He turned his attention to her, scowling. Angry that she hadn't immediately pushed Dewey away. It didn't matter that she was bleeding. She knew he'd always tend to her wounds whenever she needed.
She should've come to him.
But even if he was upset with her, he had a point prove.
He grabbed her, pressing his mouth to hers roughly, making sure Dewey had a good view of the two. He moved from her lips down to her neck, causing her to whimper.
Yes. That's what he needed. He needed Dewey to know that he was the only one who could make Kit make those beautiful sounds.
Dewey had gotten lucky. He'd gotten her to moan slightly, ONCE. That was easy for Olaf. Hell, he almost had her at the point where he could make her cum on command. What Dewey did was nothing.
Olaf pulled away from her, watching as she blinked to regain her grip on reality, having been so lost in their actions.
Olaf wrapped his arm around her quickly, pulling her close and staring back, daringly, at Dewey.
"So what's the theme of your little event anyways?" Olaf asked, nonchalantly, wanting to make it clear that he didn't care about Dewey.
"It's the Great Gatsby," Dewey mumbled, sounding annoyed, uncomfortable, and scared, "Kit came up with it."
"Of course she did, cause she's brilliant. That's why she's mine," Olaf said, a big wide smile on his face.
Olaf rubbed circles around Kit's collar, making sure to draw Dewey's attention to it.
He wanted him to see who's fucking name was on it. It was his. Olaf's.
Meaning she was his and no one else's.
"Right," Dewey mumbled again.
He quickly gathered the papers and put them next to Kit's bag, acquiring a paper cut of his own in the process. He grabbed his book bag and awkwardly sped away from the couple, receiving a dark glare from Olaf as he did.
As soon as Dewey was out of sight, Olaf frowned at Kit, pulling her arm to guide her out of the meeting room and into the hallway.
"Olaf slow down, please" Kit sighed.
She knew how he'd be. He was always this way after things like this. After someone challenged his "authority".
"Oh I'm sorry, I'll let you go back to your little fucking crush, since that's what you want," he grumbled, although still not slowing down.
"He's not my crush," Kit groaned, knowing she shad a long battle on her hands, "I don't even like him. I with you. I only want you, you know that!"
"It didn't seem like that to me," he retorted, deflecting to his usual defensive mode that e used in times like this, "the way you let him..."
"Olaf, it wasn't like that. He just...he was trying to be a good person," she explained softly, the desperation present in her voice, "he doesn't know how I am."
"Yes, he does! I could see it in his eyes!" Olaf snapped back, "he was trying to seduce you. Trying to take you away from me!"
"Olaf, he was trying to do anything but fix a mistake he'd made!" She cried, although even she wasn't so sure of it, "he wasn't trying to take me away from you! I don't even think he knows we're together!"
"Bullshit!" Olaf scoffed, "he lives with Ernest and Frank and they know! We're not exactly private about this! And besides, you're wearing your collar."
He grabbed her collar, pulling her toward him so that their bodies were touching, and quickly pushed her back until she was pinned against the wall.
"I'm yours," Kit whispered, speaking before he could, "okay? I love you and I'm not going to leave you. No one, especially Dewey, could take me from you."
Olaf wouldn't meet her eyes, focusing instead on the band around her neck. Kit couldn't help but smile at him. He always presented himself as this strong, dominating figure in her life.
But she knew him better than he knew himself.
He was fucking terrified of losing her. He saw her as the only real thing he could say was his own.
She leaned forward, connecting their lips, and immediately he responded, as if he broken out of his trance.
He shoved her against the wall once more, pushing her up and biting down as hard as he could on her bottom lip.
Kit cried out in surprise, wrapping her arms and legs around him for support, wanting to get as close to him as she could.
Olaf pulled back, breaking the kiss long enough to take in her beauty. The blood from her lip dripping down from her chin.
"More of that," he commanded, his voice low and husky. He dug his fingernails into her side, reveling in the strangled moan she let out as he did so. "You only make those sounds for me. Just for me."
Kit eyes were closed in pleasure, as she nodded, moaning out her response.
"Please more, sir," she begged, looking at him with needy eyes.
"Are you sure? Cause I don't think you want it," he taunted.
"What should I do to prove it to you, master?" Kit groaned out, her voice sounding alert but her eyes were lidded as she craved release.
Olaf wondered if she new what she did to him. Just the sight of her made him weak, made his whole body tingle and tremble with anticipation.
He put his arms around her and carried her to the janitors closet across the hallway. They'd made love in there before, several months ago.
Back then neither would admit they wanted each other. They'd spent several months in denial of their craving. They'd been each other's guilty pleasure until they could finally admit they wanted it.
Olaf remembered the day Kit had finally submitted to him fully. He remembered her clinging on to him with all of her might, begging him to hold her and scratch her and promising to give him all of her.
It was heavenly.
"Olaf, please don't make me wait," she moaned, snapping him out of his day dream, making him aware of the squirming mess he still had in front of him.
"Hmm, you wanna prove that you deserve it?" he questioned with a smirk, eyebrow raised.
"Yes sir," she sighed, her words muffled by his shirt as she bent down the rest her head on his chest.
"Tell me you hate him."
"W-What?"
"Dewey. Tell me you hate him," Olaf ordered."
Kit looked up at him, eyes daring as if she'd regained a buried confidence.
She wrapped arms around his neck tightly, pulling him down to her eye level, pressing their foreheads together.
"I hate him. I hate Dewey with every bone in my fucking body. He's weak, and he's soft, and he will never, ever, ever be able to do to me what you do to me," she said strongly, staring into his eyes, challenging him.
Olaf smirked down at her, dragging the edge of his pocket knife down her thigh and causing her to shake in absolute euphoria.
"Olaf please," she gasped, trying to pull him closer and closer to her, even though they were already chest to chest.
"You know what to say if you want it," he groaned, grabbing her chin, forcing her to look at him.
She was so far gone. He wasn't even sure if she knew where she was anymore. Part of him envied her, another part of him was amazed. He too wished that a simple cut to the leg could send him into a state beyond what thought was humanly possible. A state which he could put Kit in whenever he so chose. He could make her squirm and squeal and shout and gasp.
Maybe that was enough for him. Knowing what could do to her body was enough to bring him to his own state of euphoria.
That's why they belonged together. Why he so desperately needed to have her as his own. Why he needed to hear her say she belonged to him and that she loved him and would never leave him. That's why he deserved her more than Dewey did.
Because he knew he didn't.
"I'm yours, master," she moaned loudly, enough for her voice to be heard in the hallway. Loud and daring just like he liked her, "I'm yours, you can have me...please take me."
That was enough for him.
She didn't even know when he'd undressed, but she didn't question it. She felt him slide into her smoothly, not once failing to support her weight as he held her up against the wall. She would never know how he was so skilled, but she never complained, nor questioned it.
"He could never ever treat you like I could. He'll never know you. He'll never know what you need or what makes you scream. Not like I do," he growled into her ear, reaching down and pinching her wrist, right over her paper. He smiled as he felt Kit let her head roll back in ecstasy, "he doesn't love you like I do."
"I know, sir," she gasped, surprising Olaf. She usually lost her words after she was this far gone, but she managed to choke that out, "I want you."
She jumped up and wrapped her legs around waist once more, accidentally scraping her leg against his pocket knife, the surprise surge of pleasure sending her over the edge
"That's my girl," Olaf hummed in approval, following not long after.
Kit hopped down her his grasp, readjusting her skirt and looking up and him with crossed arms.
"Exactly," she said with a small smile, "I'm your girl. You shouldn't get so jealous."
"I think you forget who's in charge here, my dear," he warned, eyes narrowed playfully.
"Oh, I know who's in charge," she chuckled, giving him a small peck on the lips, "and I don't want him worrying about some other guy who I wouldn't even look twice at."
Olaf snorted, appreciating her little sass. He pulled her up and onto his back, hugging her to him.
"We're gonna be okay Olaf," she reassured him, laying her head onto his shoulder, "I promise."
As always, her words put him at ease.
But for some odd reason, another feeling loomed in the air. Suffocating the atmosphere. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew something was up. And this one was anything but peaceful...
