#curtis everett fluff

[krirebr]

One + One is Two Masterlist

A collection of snippets and drabbles about single dad Curtis and his little girl, with occasional appearances from a female reader.

Warnings: Absolutely none. This is the closest I'll ever get to tooth-rotting fluff.

Knitting

Exhausted

Keychain

Workout

Snow Angels

French Fries

Library

An ongoing AU

[imyourbratzdoll]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[gremlin-girly]

Lovehearts

Best friend!Curtis Everett x reader

Part of my Valentine's Extravaganza | Navigation

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine. all my work is 18+. Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Tags/warnings: Fluff, best friends to lovers, kissing

Summary: You decide you're going to tell your best friend how you feel about him.

Word count: ???

Being friends since diapers had it's perks. You could read the indecipherable Curtis like a children's book - and he would bring you the snack you were craving just from looking at your face; like a kind of Charles Xavier of sweet treats.

You were inseperable - well, almost - save for the fact that neither of you, despite your inhuman connection with eachother, could see that both of you were madly in love with the eachother.

That's where the Lovehearts came in.

Every Valentine's you'd both hang out together - always. You'd have a sleepover where nothing but a cuddle while watching movies would happen. But this year - this year - you both decided you would enact on your feelings.

However, when the day came, it was entirely typical that you both had opted for the safe, testing-the-waters option rather than outright knock-your-socks-off-and-scare-the-other-away romantic gestures. And, given how well you know eachother, had unknowingly (and rather sweetly) came up with the exact same plan.

Lovehearts candy was everywhere on Valentine's; sweet sugary sweets that bordered on sour at times, stamped with phrases or the less popular emoji stamps, were the go-to for both of your plans. Every year you'd share a bag, so naturally, swapping a sweetie with a phrase like Be Mine on it would surely be enough to gauge interest from either party, right? Right?

Wrong.

When Curtis slips you a Be Mine candy he carefully selected, you're too pre-occupied with your own plan (and trying to pick out a phrase that isn't entirely daunting from your own pile of candy hearts) that you thank him and eat it without a second glance; crushing Curtis' spirit in a matter of seconds.

Finally, you settle on two candy hearts to offer, and not-so-casually slide one of the two over to his side of the table.

He's about to eat it when you announce he should read it first.

"Love you?" He reads aloud. "Yeah, love you too." He says, going back to idly moving his candy pile around. You pull a sour face.

You'd said I love you's before - it wasn't uncommon for best friend's to say that to eachother! - but it seemed that your confession had gone unnoticed. So, you instead slide the second heart to him.

Curtis looks down at the heart and is about to continue his dismal arrangement when he does a double take.

Kiss me.

He looks over at you with a small, disbelieving smile. Then he slides over his candy heart.

Kiss me.

You fight back a giggle. "I asked you first."

Curtis makes a show of thinking it over. "Well, I guess. If you're really going to twist my arm..."

His beard is soft as his lips brush against yours in the tenderest of kisses; testing to see if you're as hopelessly smitten as he is - as he has been for years.

And his prayers are answered when you kiss him back.

"I love you," you breathe when you break apart unwillingly (curse your lungs for needing oxygen). "Not like in a best friend way. In a-"

"I know." Curtis cuts you off, smiling now. "Me too."

There's one thing more romantic than having your anniversary on Valentine's Day of all days - and that's marrying your best friend two years later and picking a new anniversary date that won't stop you from getting a reservation at any restaurant you choose.

END

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[our-marvel-universe]

Winter Whims

Characters- Curtis Everett x Single!mom Reader x Son!Jasper

W/C -800

Prompts - Getting lost at a holiday market and “I’m sitting with the cat. He’s cool.”

This is my submission for @the-slumberparty Winter Whims mini Challenge. @navybrat817 and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Thank you so much for hosting another lovely challenge and continuing to come up with prompts that spark the muse! Love you both! 🩵

Today is a big day for Curtis, and he is really hoping there is some holiday magic on his side. Because today Curtis is taking your son on a solo outing. You and Curtis have been dating for almost 3 years. Naturally with you being a single mom the two of you took it rather slow at first. Then about a year ago you finally felt comfortable enough to introduce him to your son Jasper. And honestly it went better than he could have imagined.

It's been a long road to get here and Curtis is aware of the significance of it all and he is trying not to be too intimidated. It's clear you trust him. After all this was supposed to be a family outing all 3 of you were supposed to check out this Christmas market together. But you weren't feeling well and rather than push yourself too hard you simply just gave Curtis a slight shrug and said "it's fine you two go on without me." In such a casual fashion.

Granted Curtis has logged plenty of hours with your son Jasper at this point. Helping with drop off and pick ups for school and extracurriculars. They've even started doing 'boys night' when you're working late or want to go out with your girlfriends. But this market is almost an hour away. It is a full day activity with just him and Jasper. This is definitely the biggest outing Curtis has done so far with your son and it makes his heart race with both joy and nerves.

He knows this is what you 3 have been building towards. A life, together, a family. The 3 of you and maybe even 1 more. You've talked about it of course you have. You made it very clear Curtis wasn't going to be able to meet your son if he wasn't actually going to stick around and so… he made sure to stick around. To open himself up to love and give love in return. And now here he is in a happy, healthy, loving relationship with you. And it is by far the best thing that's ever happened to him.

He's determined to make this day count. For all of you.

The day started off fine. The ride to the market was long but easy. As soon as they arrive Curtis and Jasper beeline it straight to the hot chocolate stand as soon as they arrived. They're having a blast checking out vendors and joking and paling around. And everything is going incredibly well. Or at least…it was.

Curtis isn't sure how this happened. One second he was at one of stands chatting with the vendor about bath salts and shower bombs. Jasper was right here with him one second and then the next second gone. He is trying not to panic. But how could he not? You trusted Curtis with your son. And now he may have lost him and he will never forgive himself!

He starts retracing his steps hoping Jasper maybe went back to one of the previous booths they stopped at. He assumes the market probably has a loud speaker system maybe he should find someone who works here and have them make an announcement…?

Curtis is doing his best to stay calm and figure out his next move when he hears it. Jaspers laugh. He follows that sound like his life depends on it and low and behold he turns the corner and he is finally able to breathe. As soon as he lays eyes on your beautiful little boy it's like his heart can finally start beating again.

His sigh of relief is audible. After sending a quick thanks to God, the universe or whoever else might be listing up there he makes his way over to your son.

Curtis approaches Jasper where he is sprawled on a rug playing with a fluffy grey cat. Turns out there is a book store stand and the owner happened to bring her cat Theodore with her. And somehow your son managed to find them.

Curtis let's Jasper play with the cat for a few more minutes with the owners permission of course. After which he has to explain to Jasper why he can't just wander off like that. He makes sure to keep his tone calm and even using techniques from all those Parenting reels he's watched and books he's been reading.

He doesn't realize it now but this is the moment when Curtis starts shifting from Mom's boyfriend into a co-parent. And it feels wonderful, and delightful and a little terrifying. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

Minus that little hiccup Curtis and Jasper have the best day. They get a whole lot of shopping done they both find gifts for Mama. They grab a hot chocolate for the road and jump in the car to race back home to you.

[ronearoundblindly]

A celebration prompt!! 🥳

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Curtis Everett + there’s only one bed AU 👀 Emphasis on the AU because Snowpiercer is depressing AF 🤣❤️

womp womp, this got 🌶️🌶️🌶️ but perhaps in a tamer way than you think?? whatever happened, i want it. let's leave it at that.

regional political candidate!curtis x staffer!reader

Warnings for smut (act surprised, I dare you), dry-humping, woah-nessie sexual tension, realistic concerns about stains lol, and my knowing the poli-ladder only from watching West Wing, sorry. MINORS DNI. Youngins, you can find plenty to read on my Light Masterlist, but not this! WC 1608

It's a simple mistake.

When Pete called to book for your group of four people (because Mr. Everett is running a very small campaign to keep it very personal for this rural tour), the older woman who owns the tiny B&B heard "a family of four" and held only two rooms. The old, converted mansion doesn't have connecting suites or a basement full of cots to request. There's naught but a high-backed chair in the corner other than the single queen-sized bed against the other wall, and considering you heard Tommy exclaim, "two twins, you gotta be kidding me," no better options exist.

There's three grown men and you. That's it. So either two six-footers struggle--you know what? This isn't your fault, it's just one night, and the hour is too late already.

You don't care anymore.

If Mr. Everett says nothing, you won't say anything. Better to suck it up now instead of ruin the rotation of who bunks with whom. Your boss and candidate is professional enough under all sorts of pressure. It will be fine.

He lets you use the bathroom first, and you immediately get into your comfy (but ample coverage) pajamas, hydrate, wash, moisturize, and brush quickly. No need to make a whole show of being the only woman. Believe it, they know.

"All yours," you announce, reorganizing your bag to have tomorrow's necessities up top.

He simply grunts while flipping through the factory info for the morning meet-and-greet.

As casually as you can, you setup on the farther side of the bed so as not to block him from his suitcase and review the schedule on your phone, resetting your alarm for the right time based on driving distance to the first stop. You get lost in the whole process for a while then look up to see Mr. Everett throwing a blanket over himself in the chair as if he's going to sleep right there, sitting up.

"Sir, you can't do that."

"Why not? I'm tired and I'm here and it's cushioned," he grumbles, purposefully being inarticulate because you've mentioned more than once that he mumbles when answering 'stupid questions.' "We've had a long enough day, you should call me 'Curtis' or I'll make you ride in the backseat."

"Curtis, then," you respond, "if you sleep in that chair, you will look more like shit than you already do. I will put concealer on you. Do not test me."

He gives you the stink eye, contemplating his options, and eventually tosses the blanket off to slide onto the mattress beside you.

It creaks fiercely. You and Curtis make faces at the sounds but don't say anything more about it. He tucks an arm under his head, stretching out with his feet completely off the bed, and after another minute or so, you click off the bedside lamp and turn over to fall fast asleep, the bunched up quilt in between you as a barrier, and the slightly wonky fan above you sounding like a distant warp engine.

You don't know what actually woke you. You didn't startle from a dream, didn't have a feeling of fallen, or feel any movement around you. You're not too hot or too cold. You're just right and...weighted down...but not?

You yawn and blink to focus, stiffening when you realize the weight is Curtis's arm across your waist and your own leg is tossed over his hip. Your boss's head is pressed into your chest, the buzzed hairs prickling through the fabric of your pajama top.

The quilt you probably each thought the other was is wadded near your feet, precariously ready to fall off the bed entirely.

He must not have been in this position for long because the arm he's laying on (your arm) isn't numb yet. Your other arm is draped over his on you, hand hanging off the edge of his tricep.

It's very...comfortable.

You've never really seen Curtis's arms. He always wears button-downs and at least 3/4 sleeve shirts, but tonight, his t-shirt is loose and stretched out, rolled up by tossing, turning, and gravity. He's not tan--he's never tan--but it's so dark in the room that his pale skin only slightly differs from the charcoal of the clothes and near-black of his hair. You can see enough though.

Even with his body relaxed, the muscles of his arm are thick, prominent, pushing veins to the surface like a road map to victory for you to study--

Nope. NO! Bad brain!

You need to find a way to untangle yourself from your boss without embarrassing yourself, or him, or your inner horny gremlin now enjoying the slight, involuntary clench of his fingers in the small of your back. The sudden tickle of that makes you jerk forward, grabbing the arm already in your hand for stability.

Shit.

So much for subtlety.

Curtis rouses, inhaling deeply where his nose is practically lodged between your breasts, and begins to straighten out, lifting his head slowly. The move is not enough to knock your leg off of him. In fact, his shuffling places his top knee directly in the middle of your thighs.

The gravelly way he says your name, sleepy, hopeful, questioning, calling...it's so sexy, it stops you in your tracks.

His lashes flutter against your chin as his beard drags over your arm, and Curtis looks up at you.

The dark obscures any nuance you could discern from his expression, leaving your breath to catch like a caged animal desperate to be free. Your heart hums in anticipation while you wait for an apology, or a scolding, or disgust, anything but what you want, what he actually does next.

His hips roll forward, elongating his spine so his lips can reach yours. The kiss is tender and heated.

Stunned, your reactions--though excited--seem jumpy in comparison to the assured and casual way Curtis devours you, so slowly, so confident, but you're never held down or shut up. Each time he closes what few gaps remain between you, there's a pause, a chance for you to voice some concern, to halt him.

Curtis doesn't trap you; he cradles you.

Without words, you know he's wanted this, but you don't know for how long. The most you know of his personal life is women don't come and go like a revolving door. He's not a fuck-and-fuck-off type, but in your wildest--most suppressed--dreams, you never imagined he'd be so intense and devoted from the first kiss.

You're both still clothed, for christ's sake.

Unrushed, the hand at your back goes from teasing the strip of skin exposed above your waistband to tugging you up his leg. Higher and higher you rock, bit by bit so that the creaky springs don't give away what's happening in the dark.

He feels so wonderful, and he's sure to make you feel him everywhere, the only words he offers whispered against your swollen lips warn that you're moaning, gasping too loudly.

"Be good."

You run your hands over the soft bristle of his hair and nod, ghosting a 'yes, sir' before grinding into the bulge he's perfectly positioned, hips maneuvered to seat perfectly between yours, both arms encircling you perfectly.

So fucking perfect in that intense, quiet, dark way.

The rippling buzz of the ceiling fan drowns out the pleased rumble from Curtis's chest, but the vibrations seep from his skin to yours.

You're climbing high, wet enough for your bottoms to stick in place while the bulbous head of his cock grows distinct through damp fabric.

He holds you, grips your ass to keep you exactly where you need to be, muttering "come on, come on" in a demanding, wrecked tone more devastating than any fantasy you've ever had. He peppers your neck and jaw with kisses because the quick little movements keep your lips from aligning. Concentrating on staying silent delays the inevitable, but not for long.

Though you want that praise, those phrases that could wash you slowly back down to Earth, you still relish his touch, those broad shoulders you hang onto, those large hands bracing you during impact. He's everywhere.

Curtis steadily relaxes as your own breathing settles.

A lone groan precedes his "I--I'll be right back," and just like that you're left alone in the bed, straining to hear after the bathroom door shuts.

Worry sets in.

Have you crossed a line? Well, more of a line or one you didn't know about?

You roll over to your other side, watching the shadowy leaves and swaying branches through the window, bathed in dim moonlight, until there's a flush and a literal washing sound behind you. Your whole body dips when he climbs back in.

Curtis has brought the quilt back up, lays it over you both, and curls around you.

The renewed warmth makes you keen, a whimper of peaceful pleasure escaping you, louder than all the rest that was said and done.

He props himself up, leaning to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"I will do--" his beard grazes the shell of your ear "--anything you ask of me. Always have," he breathes, "always will."

Curtis tucks in behind you again, weighty arm lacing beneath yours, deflating the worry filling your chest.

"But let's go to sleep now," he grumbles, "and make sure tomorrow there's a king...that doesn't shriek like a banshee."

"Condoms, too," you add before your eyes shut and your brain realizes.

That pleased rumble still gets drowned out by the fan, but you feel it anyway.

Because he's everywhere, and you're his everything.

[Main Masterlist; Sleepover Masterlist]

A/N: I'm fine. I can live without him. I'm fine. ::dies::

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry @rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63

[anika-ann]

Heavenly Touch - C.E.

Pairing: Curtis Everett x reader   Word count: 680 

Summary: You're a bit sore after exercise. Curtis, the lovely boyfriend he is, helps.

A/N: My fourth addition to the Sexy September Scribbles, this time for September 4th prompt: "Let me kiss it better." Divider by @saradika.MIND THE WARNINGS. I hope you'll give some of my drabbles a try even as that is the very opposite of my usual writing. ENJOY and may September be the kindest month to you 💕🍂

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, oral (fem rec), hints of a praise kink, language, Curtis is a menace and we stan

You’re in heaven. You have to be. That’s just how good it feels.

“Mmm, this feels really, really nice…” you mutter as his fingers knead into the knots around your shoulders, firm yet gentle touch pressing just right, drawing a relieved moan from your lips.

The sound makes Curtis freeze for a bit; and then he’s chuckling, his lips replacing his hands, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade, left and then right, causing you to melt further into the mattress, earning a tender trail of kisses down along your spine.

“This a new method?” you mutter sleepily, a dopey smile forming on your face when Curtis chuckles again.

“Sure is. The best one for the pain, I heard. It’s called ‘Let me kiss it better’.”

Despite his words, he returns to the boring but also a very pleasant method of working his way down your back with his hands, precise, knowing just where to brush light and where to press – much like he does in a very different circumstance.

“I think my lips are sore then.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Super sore. The sorest.”

“That had to be some workout then,” Curtis says; you can hear it in his voice that he, too, is smiling. “All in a good time, honey, I promise.”

Any other time, you might feign an argument and demand kisses immediately – but Curtis’s hands are magic. You can feel your poor muscles which you have pulled during that stupid Pilates class your friend had insisted was amazing relaxing, aches chased away by the warmth and expertise of Curtis’s hands. You sure chose your boyfriend well. You didn’t know he could do this, but you’re adding it to the ever-growing list of things you adore about him.

Moving to your thighs, his touch makes you shiver and shuffle around a bit, his soft shushing admonishing you.

You obediently try to relax again, even as you feel your panties, already damp from his expert but intimate massage all over your body, downright soaking now; perfectly on display as Curtis gently nudges you to spread your legs for better access.

Access to your muscles that is, of course.

He doesn’t comment on the sight offered to him, focusing on relieving your pain, rather than your growing desire.

And then his lips replace his fingers on your inner thigh.

You try to stay still but fuck, you can’t.

“Curtis…”

“Shh, shhh, be good and let me work,” he coaxes, squeezing your flesh pointedly and it does feel good because he presses against a knot and so you fight to be good for him, but god, his face is right there, he’s telling you to be good for him, and all the memories of just how perfect his mouth feels drinking from your core flood your lust-hazy brain.

The tips of his fingers follow the hem of your panties on your lower back, over the curve of your ass, hooking under where the fabric is soaked and pushing it aside. Your breath catches in anticipation, desire exploding in your lower belly like as if on command, heat spreading all over. Your thighs spread too, an instinct and a deliberate invitation. A plea.

And bless him, Curtis hears you out.

His tongue darts out to get a taste, making your body twitch minutely; and then his mouth latches onto our slick in a kiss that’s nothing short of filthy.

You shudder and writhe, your voice but a whine without any power behind your words: “No complaints, but I’m not sore there.”

You feel the vibration of his laugh deep within your core and your bones alike as you instinctively rock your hips and chase the pleasure he’s teasing, only to huff when his lips retreat, panties snapping back to place with a jolt on your part and an embarrassingly wet sound.

And then you’re damn well being flipped over to your back before you can find your bearings, your bare front exposed, Curtis dark orbits observing from between your thighs with a devilish grin, already taking your underwear off completely.

“Don’t worry, honey. Be good for me and you’re about to be.”

Complete masterlist

(Sexy) September Scribbles Masterlist

Not me posting this like 15 minutes before my 4th September is over, falling asleep as I sit in my bed. Ah well. I hope you enjoyed happy menace Curtis🥰

[eccentricallygothic]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what do you think?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bigtreefest]

watermelon juice dripping down his throat, onto his chest hair LEMME LICK

I don’t even like watermelon that much😅, but I like him. A lot. 🫣

Drip… and Lick

Pairing: Curtis Everett x reader

Wc: idk, written in drafts, but it’s gotta be at least 1k

Warnings: um, licking, and Curtis… so, yeah 18+ only, minors DNI

A/N: Inspired by this post and some of my beautiful hoe friends @thezombieprostitute @krirebr @stargazingfangirl18 @brandycranby This is me kicking off the 300 follower summer celebration with my own mini fic. Hope you enjoy and I can’t wait for your your feedback on this one😈

Made with the prompts: a long drive together + “I’ve got something else you can lick” + [watermelon] dripping down someone’s skin

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Curtis had wanted to have a picnic with you all summer, but your busy schedule hadn’t allowed for it. And honestly, neither had the weather. The days had been long and hot, unbearably so, with UV indexes maxed out. Stepping outside was like asking to be baked, which is why he was grateful for all the rain that hit this past week.

It was a great reprieve for everything: the grass, the garden, the sweltering temperatures. Now that the outside was actually bearable, Curtis could finally go through with his plans.

Before you got off work, he packed up his picnic basket, preparing the summer goods for you. A nice little salad, some sandwiches, and a beautiful watermelon he found at the farmer’s market the other day. He was all prepped once you got home.

As soon as you walked through the door, you were greeted by a kiss on the cheek and Curtis holding your favorite comfy sundress. After a long day at work, the last thing you wanted to wear was pants, so you went to change.

Once you emerged, hair tied up and off your neck finally and flowy dress adorned, you were ready to go. You grabbed Curtis’s outstretched hand and let him lead you to the truck where you slid up in to the middle of the bench seat.

An evening drive like this was one of your favorite things to do together. Letting the breeze flow with the windows down. Seeing the scenery of passing houses turn into open fields of wildflowers on the rolling hills.

After taking the long way around, Curtis pulled into the spot he always did at the end of the road on the back side of the airport where the two of you would lay in his truck bed to watch the planes take off and land. He hopped down out of the cab and held a hand out for you, taking you back for the cozy, yet cool setup he had made earlier.

The two of you got settled, Curtis pulling out your sandwich and handing it to you just as the sun began to reach the horizon. The sky was painted with hues of red and light purple, wispy clouds making way for the stars that would soon twinkle, framing the moon in the open sky.

You settled up close next to him, the two of you enjoying the main part of the meal as the planes flew overhead, the lights of the runway flicking on as the sky dimmed. All you could think about while you were eating was how sweet this was, how sweet he was for doing it so often for you. Curtis was a gruff, hardworking man, and with you, that prickly shell turned soft, as he used his efforts to show you his appreciation for the love and peace you brought to him. The feelings he thought he’d never have, the ones he thought he didn’t deserve. His humility and bottomless affection was all you saw, though, the deep care you held for each other tying your souls together. In this moment, you realized if he was all you had for the rest of your life, that would be more than enough, and you wanted to show that. You needed him, and could feel it start to burn in the depths of your belly: a love that you had to show, that you wanted to show, again, and again, and again, for eternity.

You climbed into Curtis’s lap, giving him a peck, your sundress falling around your legs, leaving your core settling right over him in his worn jeans. Your hands gently came up to frame his face, his beard lightly scratching your palms. Your body was growing warm against the cold evening air, buzzing with desire from the way he cared for you, the way you cared for each other.

“Thank you for this, Curtis. It’s perfect. The food was delicious, but I think I’m ready for dessert.”

Curtis’s large hands settled on your waist as he looked up at you. He could see the warmth in your eyes at that statement. It was evident this little date made your day so much better, but he hadn’t quite caught on yet to the true fire in your gaze.

“Yeah? I’ve got this beautiful watermelon. Thought that would be nice and refreshing.”

He looked up at you with the softest features, eyes switching between yours, looking for approval. Your thumbs brushed over his freckled cheeks, more prominent from the summer sun, as you nodded with a breathy giggle.

“Um, yeah. That sounds good.”

He beamed up at you, turning to the side to pull out the fruit before he went still. He hadn’t cut it. Or really even brought anything to cut it, unless you counted the flimsy plasticware the two of you ate your salads with. He looked up at you with big eyes as you laughed again, catching on to what happened.

“Hold on, give me a second, I can fix this. You don’t mind if it’s not perfectly cut, right?”

You shook your head, curious to see what he could possibly have in mind. He turned the watermelon upright as he grabbed a plastic knife, adjusting it in his hand so it seemed stable enough. He raised his hand, stabbing the edge of the utensil into the tough rind. That obviously wasn’t doing much, but it did enough. You watched as Curtis’s thick, yet surprisingly nimble fingers widened the nick into a gap as he put both hands in and pulled, the robust fruit splitting in two as some juices leaked out. As did yours, as you felt a flush of arousal at the show of brute strength. So casual, he probably had no idea what he was doing to you.

If that knife was any indication, there probably wasn’t a good way to get the flesh out, either, so he opted to just keep with his bare hands, scooping out a piece to feed to you. You opened your mouth, eyes never leaving his as your lips surrounded his thumb and pointer finger. The juice from his hand ran down his thick forearm, over the hair that covered it. As he moved to pull away, your hands quickly snapped to stop him, eyes still locked. You dipped your head to the drop that had trickled down, now about to reach his elbow, and stuck out your tongue, tracing the path of watermelon juice up to his palm, all the way back to his fingers, sucking them and releasing with a pop.

Curtis watched in real time as your pupils blew wide and you began to unbutton his linen shirt before reaching over and grabbing your own piece of watermelon to feed to him. Oh. That was where this was going. How did he not see it before? He was never going to slice a watermelon again, but he planned to get a lot more before summer was done. And he’d gladly pay a fortune to get them out of season if they made you react like this.

You popped the piece in his mouth, watching as the juice dribbled down his chin, and down to his neck, over the course hair of his chest. You pulled back slightly, watching the stream right next to his nipple, and you ducked down again and flattened your tongue against the firm warmth of his chest, circling the peak before tracing up again, tongue being deliciously scratched until you reached the smooth, slightly salty skin of his neck, dressed with the humidity and a thin layer of sweat.

You pressed a kiss to his jugular as he swallowed the sweet fruit, his lips parting in a gasp, waiting for what you were going to do next. The fire in his eyes grew, though, to meet yours, as his awe-struck, enamored look turned into a smirk. Curtis finally spoke up in a strained, deep voice, silky with seduction.

“You know, I’ve got something else you can lick…”

Bonus A/N: for your fantasies, brandy bean. Eat your heart out.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly