#prompt: sunscreen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemonlover1110 · 4 days ago

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Perhaps Toji should've listened to his wife about using sunscreen, but the man never listens.

Warnings: Minors do not interact! Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Public Sex, Creampie, Toji calls you 'princess'

*You might not get sunburnt but you still need sunscreen! Baddies protect themselves against skin cancer❤️

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There’s a drawn out whistle behind you from none other than your husband. He watches as you slowly take off your dress and reveal the bikini that you chose to wear for your beach trip. You feel your face get warm, still not used to all the love and attention that he gives you whenever he sees your body.

“Well, aren’t you going to get undressed?” You ask, a risky question considering how Toji is. You bite your tongue the moment the words leave your lips, knowing exactly how Toji is going to respond. You’re about to add more to it, but Toji beats you to it.

“You want to do it here? I’m not opposed to having an audience.” There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he responds, making you roll your eyes. He lets out a chuckle at your reaction before taking off his shirt. “It’s still a little crowded, princess. Wait till everyone leaves.”

“I’m not having sex with you at the beach.” You reply, taking your eyes off him as he shows off his well-toned body. If you could whistle, you’d have the same reaction as him. You add, “Wait till we get back to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that? We have a bed back at home.” He tells you, earning a light hearted slap on his shoulder. He loves to tease you out in public, saying just about anything to get a reaction out of you.

“Come here, let me put sunscreen on you.” You change the topic, wanting to talk about something more lighthearted for the scene.

“I don’t need sunscreen.” He answers, making you frown. He’ll ruin your trip by refusing sunscreen– By the end of the day his skin will be all red and burnt. If he goes wandering around with no sunscreen on then the trip is practically over.

“Toji, if you don’t come here–” You begin but he walks away before you can finish your sentence. Of course. Then he’ll come whining to you later about how his skin burns.

He talks about Megumi’s stubbornness, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“Here.” Toji leans down and hands you a popsicle. You lift your eyes up from your book and notice his rosy cheeks. A couple of hours have passed, and granted, you were right. That’s why he comes to you with a peace offering. He’ll do anything but tell you that you were right.

“What’s this for?” You ask as you prompt yourself up from the comfortable lounge chair. Toji sits on the edge, and you notice how his shoulders and chest are red. You lick the top of the popsicle, tongue circling around it which draws Toji’s attention.

“Just saw the ice cream truck and thought you’d want one, nothing else.” He shrugs. “You know I swam all the way to– Ah, what are you doing?”

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” You tease him with the popsicle, tracing the cold treat on his collar bone. It does. It feels so nice but he wouldn’t say that to you, at least not now. He won’t prove you right.

“It feels weird.” He tries to push your hand away but it doesn’t work. Instead, your hand moves down and the popsicle goes down his chest. It’s just what he needs, but he won’t admit it. He definitely won’t do it when you’re acting so smug.

“Does it? You look relieved.” You point out with a smirk on your face. He absolutely won’t give you satisfaction now.

“Shut up and eat your popsicle before I take you behind that rock and show you what relief looks like.” His hand wraps around your wrist, and he guides it back to your lips but your lips form into a straight line. You turn your head, and the tip hits your cheek.

“I’m taking the popsicle as an admission that I was right!” You ask him, and he takes the treat back. He brings it up to his lips and takes a bite of it.

“Can’t your husband just be nice? Damn.” He’s irritated, but you’re right. The sunburns are too fresh, he won’t admit that he should’ve put on sunscreen before going swimming.

“I know you.” You snatch the wooden stick from his hand once again, putting the popsicle on his shoulder. “Just admit that it feels nice. I know I’m right either way.”

“Fine. You’re right.” He says, his gaze going elsewhere because he knows there’s a smug smile on your face. He feels your warm, soft lips press a kiss on his shoulder, and he sighs. Maybe it isn’t all bad.

“Tastes like cherry.” You comment, making a low laugh leave his lips. He looks back at you, and presses a kiss on the top of your head.

“You know, the beach is almost empty if you–”

“I’m not having sex with you out here.” You cut him off, reading his mind. He clicks his tongue as he reaches into your beach bag. You notice that he grabs the sunscreen, making you comment, “It’s a little too late for that now.”

“It’s not for me, princess.” He responds, opening the bottle and squirting some of the cream on his hands. Before you can even question it, his hands go to your cleavage, “Isn’t it time to reapply?”

“Toji–” You begin, but he brings you to his lap, unable to escape from his grasp. “You’re a sly little fox.”

“Huh? I’m just making sure my wife is taken care of.” He says as he continues to massage your breasts under the pretext that he’s reapplying sunscreen. His fingers sneakily go under your bikini top, getting too close to your nipples.

“Toji, you’re playing it dangerously.” You warn him before you shove the rest of the popsicle in his mouth. He takes it out and tosses it aside.

“I like danger.” He tells you before his lips land on yours. You lick up the sweet cherry that remains on his lips before quickly pulling away.

You look over Toji again. The way the water drips from his hair down to his body. The water streams down his rosy chest, all the way down to his V-line. He’ll make a sinner out of anyone, that’s for damn sure. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you… The beach is practically empty, who cares?

“I’m going to the water.” You respond, a look of mischief in your eyes. You get up from his lap and begin to walk to the water, a sight that makes Toji sigh. A beautiful sight, dare he say. A sight that makes his dick hard.

“Wait for me!” He yells, standing up and going after you. You’re not too far ahead, making it easy for him to catch up with you. He’s just planning on accompanying you, until he notices that you’re going to the giant rock that he mentioned earlier. Of course you are. “And you’re saying I’m sly?”

“What? I’m literally just going into the water.” You try to play all innocent, an act that he certainly won’t fall for. Maybe in the beginning he would’ve, but Toji knows you too well to know that you’re up to no good. “You have a dirty mind, Toji.”

“Right, I’m the one in the wrong here.” He scoffs. He wants to make a comment about how you’re not even in the water as you hide behind the rock, but he won’t play with his luck today.

“Are we out of everyone’s view here?” You ask, and Toji chuckles. So much for not having sex at the beach. His hands cup your face, lips going down to meet your own. Your hands go to the back of his head, pulling him closer as your back makes contact with the rock.

“You just had to play hard to get?” He pulls away for a second before his lips kiss yours again. One hand trails down your body, going to the bottom of your swimsuit. His fingers run through your folds, and it takes everything in him to not comment just how wet you already are for him.

Toji loves to tease you, but he’ll play it safe considering the situation. He wouldn’t want you to back down now. Maybe when he’s got you all worked up and on the edge he’ll have his way with you.

“Don’t draw any attention to yourself, princess.” He warns you as he pulls away. He likes the risk, but he certainly doesn’t want to get caught. “You got that? Can you do it?”

“Yeah.” You nod, followed by a breathy moan that he tears from you by slowly pushing in two fingers. He smirks. Yeah, you were absolutely right about the sunscreen but he was right about where you’d end up today.

“Good girl.” He praises you, taking his fingers out just as quickly as he put them in. He pushes your swimsuit to the side, grabbing one of your legs and resting it on his hip. He’s all the balance you need right now. “Gonna make this quick, okay? Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea and steal your book and shit.”

“Wait, my book–” You comment, that part completely forgotten from your mind. Though before the sentence is finished, you feel his tip run through your folds. “It can wait.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles before slowly pushing himself inside you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Toji stretches you out. The man doesn’t waste a second before moving, giving slow thrusts so your body isn’t overwhelmed.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He comments, keeping his voice low. Toji wouldn’t want to draw any attention to himself at this moment. He can’t come up with any possible excuse.

You’re biting down your lip, not trusting yourself to not be too loud. You want him to hear how good he’s making you feel. He always feels so good inside of you, hitting every right spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. But you’ll hold back.

He’s groaning. He’s succumbing to the pleasure your pussy is giving him. So tight and warm. So fucking perfect. His thrusts slowly pick up speed, the sound of skin smacking slowly getting louder

“Fuck, Toji–” You moan, your brain slowly working less and less. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, seeking more friction to reach your high. You can’t be gone for too long. The longer you’re here, the higher the risk of someone coming around.

“You want my cum, princess?” His lips go to your ear, and you nod in response. Every thrust just hits every right spot, making it hard for you to contain yourself. Your pussy is squeezing around him, your free hand gripping onto his shoulder. Your breath gets caught up in your chest, and you fully rely on him for balance.

You moan loudly as you reach your orgasm, finishing around his cock. Toji bites your neck, a sort of punishment. Since he can’t make noise, he’ll suppress whatever noise with your body, and this time your neck is the poor victim.

“I need your cum, Toji.” You finally tell him as he slowly loses control. Maybe the excitement of being at the beach has caught up to him. The risk of getting caught certainly makes it more fun.

It doesn’t take too long for Toji to finish inside of you, making a complete mess out of you. A mess that he’ll wipe his hands from since he won’t have to walk around full of cum.

His forehead presses against yours, delivering soft kisses to every part of your face before he finally pulls out of your cunt. He fixes the bottom of your swimsuit, and allows you to regain complete balance before letting you go.

“You ready for the walk of shame?” He finally gets to tease you, and you roll your eyes.

“Worry about yourself, shrimp.”

#dividers by cafekitsune #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #jjk toji #daddy toji #toji x y/n #toji smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji x reader

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witchywithwhiskey · 3 months ago

Note

Hey, hehe. Flipped the coin to decide a character and it’s Ari, with bite me, please?🥺🥺

bite me, baby

pairing: ceo!ari levinson x female reader

summary: when your nightmare of a boss, the ceo of the company, insults your valentine's day plans, you're so fed up that you quit. and he has a reaction that you did not anticipate even a little bit.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming, pool sex, biting/marking, edging via sensual massage (ari puts sunscreen on reader—never forget your sunscreen, friends!!), prone bone, some brattiness, light bd/sm, light power play dynamics, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (baby), aftercare, references to marathon sex, reader has a cat (idk if this needs to be a warning but just fyi!), enemies to lovers with a happy ending

word count: 6.0k

a/n: i love a coin flip because i hate making decisions 🤭 i'm so glad it landed on ari because he, and the "bite me" prompt, inspired this fun and dirty idea that i'm so so so happy with!! (i also think i managed to throw in some of the other stuff you requested because it ended up giving me a lot of inspiration.) thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

sweethearts game masterlist

That was it. You had had enough of Ari Levinson.

In fact, after months of working for the CEO, you’d had more than enough of the infuriatingly arrogant, wildly inconsiderate, exasperatingly entitled and frustratingly handsome man.

Wait, no, forget that last one. Ari was the worst man you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty of awful men in your line of work as an executive assistant to high-ranking executives—so he certainly was not also the most attractive man you’d ever met. Absolutely not.

You’d worked for Ari Levinson for a little less than a year, and even though you were one of the best damn EAs in all of New York City, he’d already driven you to fantasizing about quitting multiple times a day. It wasn’t a good sign that you also liked to imagine kicking him in the shin before storming out in all your righteous glory.

The problem wasn’t that Ari Levinson was a demanding and exacting boss. He was a CEO, after all, and most executives held their employees to incredibly high standards. No, the real problem was that Ari was prone to seemingly impulsive whims, which always made your already difficult job nearly impossible.

More times than you could count, you’d had to reschedule meetings with titans of the industry and heads of state, all because Ari had forgotten to tell you he’d gone to play pickleball. Or you’d had to completely rebook a board meeting because Ari had decided to take a spontaneous trip to Costa Rica or the Seychelles or some other warm and sunny place while winter ravaged the city.

The worst part about those trips in particular was that you were still expected to commute into the office. So while Ari was off enjoying a white sand beach and crystal blue ocean, soaking up the sun that would undoubtedly bring out the blond highlights in his perfectly shaggy brown hair and deepen his glorious golden tan, you would be bundled up in a ridiculous amount of layers and braving the subway in the city.

When Ari was gone, you would spend most of your day sitting at your desk alone on the top floor the company’s building, twiddling your thumbs outside Ari’s empty office. Inevitably, your mind always strayed to Ari and began to wonder what he was doing at that very moment.

Since the CEO had you working 60-hour weeks, and you spent most of those hours by his side, you could very easily picture him standing on a beach. He’d be wearing a rakish smile on his bearded face, the clear blue of the ocean making the bright sapphire of his eyes pop while the shining sun would highlight the mischievous look that was, more often than not, sparkling in the depth of his gaze.

You’d never seen Ari shirtless—only ever having seen him in the tailored suits he wore to the office—but you’d caught glimpses of dark hair on his chest on the late nights when he’d undone the top buttons of his shirt. You could just imagine how his broad shoulders would frame his barrel chest, dark hair dusting so much of his bare skin that would be on display, with a pair of shorts riding indecently low on his hips.

And if you let your mind wander further down that path, you began to wonder if Ari ever swam naked in the shimmering waters of the tropics. You wondered if he floated on his back, basking in the sun with his entire body bare, looking even more like the golden god you thought he resembled…

With a forceful shake of your head, you made yourself stop thinking about Ari swimming naked, and refocused on the present moment.

You stood in Ari’s office, your back straight as a knife’s edge while you typed notes furiously into your phone about everything you’d have to reschedule to accommodate the last-minute, week-long trip to Belize he’d informed you he was taking.

You’d bitten back a sigh, like the polite little EA you prided yourself on being, and tried to get more details from him about his availability while he was away. But instead of answering your extremely relevant questions, Ari had changed the subject and asked about your Valentine’s Day plans.

The words had taken you by so much surprise, you’d had to pause your typing and blink a few times before your mind could process them. It wasn’t until Ari had voiced the question that you even realized the holiday had snuck up on you.

Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like you were seeing anyone, so you had no romantic partner to spend it with. As such, you’d given Ari a bland answer about catching up on the new season of The Traitors with a bottle of rosé and Freddie.

You didn’t expect Ari to remember that Freddie was your cat, and not a partner—though Freddie was, admittedly, your closest companion since you lived alone in a very nice one-bedroom apartment and had little time for other friends.

You’d hoped Ari would’ve forgotten about Freddie and assumed you were just having a lowkey Valentine’s Day, thereby getting the hint to drop the subject. You’d wanted to refocus him on answering the questions you’d asked about his trip.

But you’d had no such luck and, for the second time in five minutes, Ari had surprised you—and not in a good way.

The CEO had scoffed at your Valentine’s Day plans, rolling his gorgeous blue eyes in a way that made you grind your molars in an effort not to snarl at him. He’d said you could find better company for the evening than a cheap bottle of wine, some trashy television and a flea-ridden furball.

That last comment had been the final straw. The one that broke the proverbial camel’s back.

You’d felt something inside you snap, and you realized you’d had enough of Ari Levinson.

It was bad enough that Ari was the worst, most difficult and flighty boss you’d ever had, but you drew the line at anyone insulting Freddie. He was your precious little man, the one who greeted you every night with sweet chirps and warm affection when you got home to your otherwise empty apartment.

You loved him more than anything else in the world, and had even used a good chunk of the generous salary you made working for Ari to splurge on a place with lots of natural light so Freddie could bask in the sun to his heart’s content. So you would absolutely not stand by and listen to Ari insult Freddie.

“You know what, bite me, Levinson,” you hissed at the infuriatingly arrogant CEO, using a voice so filled with fury, you barely recognized it as your own. “I quit.”

You took a second to savor the slightly stunned look on Ari’s face—his normally sparkling blue eyes dulled with confusion and his perfectly plump lips, offset by his dark, well-groomed beard, parted in surprise like you’d slapped him—then you whirled around on your heel.

You were determined to stalk out of the CEO’s office with your head held high, but Ari had other ideas.

Quick as lightning, Ari’s hand shot out and wrapped around the back of your neck. His grip was surprisingly gentle, even if it was still firm enough to spin you back around and reel you in until your body nearly collided with his broad chest.

The astonished look on Ari’s face had already been replaced by a devastatingly arrogant grin, his bright blue eyes sparkling like the sun glinting off the ocean, a wicked kind of mischief in their depths. He held you close, so close that you had to tip your head back to look into his eyes.

Your hands had come up to brace against Ari’s chest when he’d tugged you into the cage of his arms, and you could tell, even through the thick wool coat he wore over his suit, that he was sturdy beneath his clothes.

The only thing stopping you from trying to push him away was the sneaking suspicion that he was strong enough not to allow you to put any space between your bodies if he didn’t want it. If you did try to fight and he didn’t give you an inch, you knew it would turn you on more than his manhandling already had, and you couldn’t deal with that just yet.

So instead of fighting him, you stood there, letting Ari tower over you while your hands rested uselessly against the lapels of his coat, your phone still clutched tightly in your fingers. You tried to keep a glare fixed on your face, showing him all of the ire you felt, and none of the desire that was scorching through your body as you inhaled his warm, spicy scent.

“Bad move, baby,” Ari rumbled, his mouth curving into a wicked smirk that had your betrayer of a heart beating mortifyingly hard in your chest, the warmth between your legs turning into a disloyal dampness. “Now there’s no employee code of conduct stopping me from doing this.”

You didn’t even have a hope of processing Ari’s words before his mouth crashed down on yours.

If you ever thought about it—which you did, an embarrassing amount, in fact, though you’d never in your life admit it to anyone (except maybe Freddie)—you would’ve expected Ari Levinson to be a selfish kisser. You’d expected him to totally lack finesse, to plunge his tongue into your mouth right away and take what he thought he was owed.

But Ari’s kiss wasn’t like that at all.

Sure, there was a barely leashed hunger in the way his mouth worked against yours, like he was holding onto his restraint by the tips of his fingers. But his lips were more coaxing than demanding, his tongue more teasing and playful than plundering as he licked along the seam of your mouth.

Before you knew what was happening, you were falling under the spell of Ari Levinson’s kiss. Your lips were parting of their own accord, and you were letting out a contented little sigh as your body melted into his arms.

You could taste the smirk on his lips as he readjusted his grip, one of his arms banding around your lower back to hold you securely against his chest while his other hand shifted from the back of your neck to cup your face. He held you exactly where he wanted you while he tempted you into giving yourself completely to him.

Then, Ari deepened the kiss, and you were lost to him.

He smelled like expensive cologne, rich and spicy, but he tasted like bitter coffee and dark chocolate, and the contrast was driving you wild. You wanted to climb the tall, sturdy CEO like he was a tree, but you settled for curling your fingers around the lapels of his coat and pulling him closer, sucking on the tongue he’d slipped into your mouth and reveling in his groan of pleasure.

You could already feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into your stomach, and you desperately wanted to feel his bulge move lower, shoving between your thighs while Ari spread your legs wide open—preferably with no layers of clothing between your bodies. You wanted him to sink into your wet heat and pound into you until you forgot everything except his name.

But you wouldn’t beg Ari Levinson to fuck you. You refused to stoop to that level.

Instead, you pressed your body more firmly against his hardness, nipping at his plump lower lip and stirring a low growl in his chest. Then you sucked on his lip hard enough that his arms crushed you to his chest, his hips thrusting instinctively against your soft curves and making you smirk against his mouth.

“Come to Belize with me,” Ari murmured when he’d pulled his lips from yours to press kisses to your cheek and jaw and neck. He kissed you anywhere he could reach without straying too far from your mouth, which he devoured with a hunger that had a pulsing need throbbing between your thighs. “Come with me, baby, and we can continue this for the whole week.”

A scornful laugh, light and frothy as the waves crashing on the shore, bubbled from your lips and you tipped your head back. Ari took the movement as permission to brush even more kisses to the underside of your jaw, a shiver racing down your spine when the softness of his mouth contrasted with the rasp of his beard.

But, though a part of you wanted to get even more lost in Ari Levinson and take him up on his request, you couldn’t forget everything he’d done and said. You certainly wouldn’t forget the slight against Freddie.

“Why on earth would I go anywhere with you?” you asked, your voice so breathy, it almost sounded like you were flirting with the arrogant CEO instead of scoffing at his offer. “I just quit, remember?”

“I remember,” Ari muttered into the fluttering pulse beneath your jaw. He kissed his way back to your mouth and licked inside, making you melt even further in his arms.

By that point, your legs were so weak, you were certain Ari’s strong arms were the only thing holding you up. But if he’d been trying to persuade you with pure lust into relenting and giving in to his invitation, he must’ve realized quickly it would take more to sweep you off your feet.

“Let me put it this way—come to Belize with me and I’ll tell HR I fired you so you get your full severance package,” he rumbled in your ear, nipping at the lobe and dragging a reluctant gasp from your lips. “Otherwise you get nothing.”

Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your rational mind, you knew you should bristle at Ari’s threat. After all, he was toying with your financial future like it was nothing but a tool in his negotiation arsenal to get what he wanted.

Except…you had been the one to quit without thinking about what it meant for your ability to pay rent and keep a roof over Freddie’s head. Ari wasn’t threatening to take away your severance, you’d thrown that away all on your own. Instead, he was offering to give it to you in exchange for a week-long vacation to one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Later, you could chalk up your questionable decision-making to the drugging effect Ari’s mouth had on your body and mind, but in the moment, you were hard-pressed to remember why you shouldn’t go with him to Belize. Especially when your body seemed unwilling to do anything except press further into him, begging him without words for more.

You realized belatedly that you’d already made up your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell the exasperating CEO just yet. So you slid a hand from the lapel of Ari’s jacket into his soft, brown hair, your fingers curling selfishly in the strands while you pulled his mouth back to yours. You shared a slow, decadent kiss that almost made you forget the conversation you’d been having.

“They’ll believe that?” you asked on a gasp, breaking away from Ari’s devastatingly perfect mouth to suck in the air your lungs were begging for.

You pulled back enough to look up into Ari’s handsome face, finding him smirking knowingly down at you, and you realized he knew you’d already decided to go with him. You were prepared to seethe in fury and snap at him, but something in his expression made you pause—there was a hint of affection in his crystal blue eyes that you’d never seen before, and it rendered you speechless.

“Baby, I sign their paychecks,” Ari said, stroking a finger tenderly down your cheek, his words reminding you of the conversation you were still in the middle of. “They’ll believe what I tell them to believe.”

A derisive scoff burst from your lips as you rolled your eyes at the arrogance of Ari’s statement, but you held your tongue. You’d known the man long enough that there was no point in arguing with him, so you changed the subject to something that mattered more to you anyway.

“I’m still furious with you for what you said about my Valentine’s Day plans—and Freddie,” you said, giving Ari your best, most withering glare.

Unfortunately, you suspected it wasn’t all that scary, at least not to the CEO who still held you in his arms, because Ari just chuckled and ducked down to press a kiss to your lips. His laughter flickered teasingly into your mouth, making the warmth of desire bloom even more hotly in your body.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Ari vowed before kissing you again, though it didn’t last long as his mouth tipped up into a smirk. “You’re going to enjoy Belize, baby.”

The sun that shone on Belize was better than the sun above New York City, you were convinced of it. If anyone tried to tell you that was simply because Belize was closer to the equator and it was February, you wouldn’t hear it. The sun was better in Belize.

It fell across your bare shoulders like the softest and comfiest of blankets, warming you down to the bones that you would’ve sworn had been permanently frozen by the city’s frigid winter. But even with the sun beating down on your body, you never got overheated thanks to the gentle breeze coming in off the water of the near-distant ocean, caressing your skin like a lover.

For the millionth time since you’d arrived in Belize, you let out a sigh of contentment and reveled in the bright sunshine and the smell of salt on the air. The lapping of the waves was a constant soundtrack, lulling you into a state of near-sleep as you lay out on the deck of the private vacation home your former boss had booked for the week.

And, thanks to the privacy afforded by the high walls on either side of the pool and deck, which overlooked a strip of beach reserved entirely for you and the CEO, you were basking in the sun completely naked. Your body was stretched out on the soft cushion of a sun lounger, laying on your stomach with your arms folded beneath your chin.

The only thing you wore was a pair pink heart-shaped sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose, casting the world in shades of bubblegum and taffy while you watched the ocean. It felt deliciously wicked to be laying outside wearing nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you reveled in the feeling of the sun warming your skin—all of your skin.

The sound of the door to the deck opening and closing pulled you from your reverie, though you didn’t turn to see who it was. There was only one person it could be—Ari Levinson.

“The beast’s been fed,” Ari said, no small amount of fondness in his tone. His heavy footsteps padded in your direction across the wooden deck, coming to a stop somewhere near the foot of your lounger.

It surprised no one more than you to learn that Ari’s invitation to go to Belize for the week had included Freddie. The CEO had even accompanied you to your apartment, where he’d helped herd Freddie into his carrier before taking both of you to the airport where he kept his private jet.

Freddie had been wary of the large intruder in your home, and was taking some time to warm up to Ari. In an effort to endear himself to your precious furball, Ari had insisted on being the one to feed him, which you’d only allowed once your former boss admitted he planned on keeping you in his life long after the trip to Belize ended—and was willing to do anything to make that happen.

It turned out, Freddie was just as much of a traitor as your heart, because he’d warmed up to Ari just as fast as your the betrayer in your chest had, abandoning their initial hatred of the CEO for something much warmer and more affectionate.

“I gave him some of that wet food he likes,” Ari went on, finally dragging your attention away from the ocean so you could look up at the man who was quickly becoming your second favorite person in the world—after Freddie, of course.

You sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Ari, standing on the deck with his hands propped on his hips, his face tipped up toward the sun and his eyes shaded in dark glasses—all while entirely naked.

There was so much golden, tanned skin on display, you didn’t know where to look—at the dark hair blanketing his barrel chest, at the gentle taper of his waist and the hair trailing down from his navel, or at the thick cock hanging between his even thicker thighs.

The two of you had barely made it into the vacation home in Belize and gotten Freddie settled before Ari had been pushing inside your entirely too willing pussy, finally finishing what you’d begun in the CEO’s office in New York. Since then, neither of you had been able to keep your hands to yourselves for longer than a few hours, and you’d learned, intimately, how it felt to have Ari’s cock buried in each one of your holes.

You’d also confessed to Ari, early on in the week, that you’d wondered whether he spent his vacations swimming naked in the ocean. In response, he’d pulled you into the ocean wearing not a stitch of clothing between the two of you; ever since, he’d taken to walking around naked all the time, so you’d done the same.

Considering all the fucking you were doing, it was way more convenient anyway.

“I think it’s about time you put on more sunscreen, isn’t it, baby?” Ari asked, dragging your focus back to the moment.

His tone had dropped a little lower in that way that made your belly swoop and dampness begin to gather between your thighs. Your body warmed as arousal settled heavily in your center, your legs falling open just a tiny bit, as if the infuriating CEO had trained you to react instinctively to the barest hint of desire in his tone after just a few days.

Still, though your body might betray what you desperately wanted from Ari, you weren’t going to make it so easy for him.

You tipped your head up toward him, finding he’d pulled off his sunglasses and dropped them on the lounger beside yours, leaving him able to pin you with a scorchingly heated look. You simply raised a brow at him.

“If you think so, you can go ahead and apply it for me,” you said primly, tossing your head and turning back to look out at the ocean.

A smirk quirked the corners of your lips as you heard Ari chuckle behind you, and you could easily picture him picking up the bottle of sunscreen from the deck while he stepped closer to you.

A moment later, you felt the slight shift of movement when Ari threw his leg over your lounger. Then he settled down on the cushion, planting his knees on either side of your hips. You took off your sunglasses and set them on the deck, pretending not to care about what Ari was doing.

But every spot where his bare skin touched yours tingled with awareness, excitement bubbling in your belly and mixing with your desire into the perfect kind of anticipation that had you squeezing your thighs together against the ache building in your core.

Ari was quiet while he squeezed the sunscreen onto his hands and began massaging it into your shoulders, his strong fingers working methodically at the knots in your muscles—knots he’d created while he’d still been your boss—until they were entirely loose and unraveled.

Then his hands were moving lower, his fingers brushing along the soft sides of your tits in such a teasing torture that you had to force yourself not to squirm beneath him. You were trying your hardest to keep up the appearance that you were unaffected by Ari’s touch, but the longer he deftly worked your body, the more effort it took to bite back your moans.

However, all hope of hiding your reactions from the arrogant CEO fled when he got to your ass. His big hands rubbed and kneaded the soft flesh in such a way that Ari kept spreading your pussy lips apart, the quiet sounds of your own wetness reaching your ears even over the near-distant hum of the ocean.

Ari lingered over your ass and hips and thighs, groping your body shamelessly under the guise of working sunscreen into your skin, even as both of you knew exactly what he was doing. He worked you up until you were squirming beneath him, biting back little whimpers of desire, and then he stopped and you nearly growled in frustration.

Picking up the bottle of sunscreen, Ari laughed softly while he squeezed more into his hands, then made quick work of smoothing it down the rest of your legs, making sure you were entirely covered before resuming his previous position.

His hands groped your ass again and his hard cock bobbed against the backs your thighs, but neither of you moved to take things further for a long moment. You simply enjoyed the feeling of being together, a sense of peace like none you’d ever known washing over you.

“How many times d’you think I’ve made you cum so far this week?” Ari asked, his tone light with an undercurrent of huskiness betraying his desire.

The question broke whatever spell Ari had put on you and you stretched languidly beneath him, reaching your fingers out toward the ocean and pointing your toes while you tested your muscles. Your body was loose and relaxed, but you were despairingly empty, so you pushed your hips up, brushing your ass teasingly against Ari’s hard length while you hummed in thought.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, grumbling only a little when Ari pushed your hips back down on the lounger. He rebuffed your wordless offer, pinning you down while his knees shifted higher up your body and his calves kept your thighs closed together. “A lot, I guess.”

“And how many more until you forgive me for being the worst boss ever?” he asked, a playful smile in the warmth of his tone.

You may have called him that—more than once—when he was edging you earlier in the week. But he’d earned the insult, and more, frankly, for how much you’d put up with in your months of working for him. He truly had been the worst boss ever, and you never intended on rescinding your resignation since he deserved it.

Thankfully, Ari seemed determined to make it up to you, just like he’d promised. Mostly through orgasms, but you weren’t going to complain. Not yet, anyway. (Besides, you’d already gotten him to promise to give you the most glowing letter of recommendation he could write, and help you secure a position with a much less demanding company.)

“At least a hundred,” you murmured in a breathy tone, your hips lifting hungrily into Ari’s palms when he kneaded your ass, his thumbs brushing temptingly close to your dripping slit.

That time, he took you up the wordless invitation, the tip of his hard cock pressing into your tight hole, which was more than eager to take his thick length. Ari’s cock met with no resistance from your body as he slid inside, burying himself to the hilt with one relentless stroke.

You were plenty wet from the massage he’d given you, and your body had long since grown accustomed to the feel of his fat cock stretching your tight pussy. It had taken some time to work his full length inside you that first night, but your body had come to know him, and you stretched to fit him perfectly, his hardness nestled deep in your cunt with his tip pressed against your cervix.

A pleasured groan slipped from Ari’s lips as he felt your pussy squeezing around him. He fell forward, covering your body with his broad form until he was pressed flush to your back, pinning you into the soft cushion of the lounger.

The movement shifted his stiff length in your dripping hole, and it felt like he was pushing impossibly deeper, which wrung a shrill desperate, keening sound from the depths of your lungs.

Ari shushed you softly, his palms skimming from your shoulders down your arms until his fingers tangled with yours. He held your hands in each of his, keeping you grounded in the moment while undeniable euphoria filled your body and mind, blotting out everything except Ari and the pleasure he offered.

“And how many more until you forgive me for the comment about the beast?” Ari asked, his voice gravelly with his own barely leashed desire. He turned his head slightly, brushing a kiss to the apple of your cheek like he couldn’t help himself, and waited for your answer.

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts enough to respond, knowing he wasn’t going to move, to fuck you, until you’d answered his question.

“It’s gonna take five hundred more,” you huffed, trying for a pert tone and failing miserably. Your voice was little more than a breathy moan, but that didn’t stop you from curtly adding, “That was my son you insulted.”

“By the end of this trip, he’s going to be our son,” Ari growled in your ear, pulling his hips back and thrusting inside you again, harder and rougher than before.

You moaned loudly at the delicious drag of his cock in your tight hole, fighting back the warmth that wanted to curl around your heart at the determination in Ari’s tone when he talked about making Freddie his son too.

Thankfully, the way Ari was rocking into you, fucking your prone body while you were pinned beneath him, easily distracted you from the fact that the infuriating CEO was stealing his way deeper into your heart with very little resistance since you just couldn’t seem to muster it. Not when he felt so fucking good and said so many sweet things.

“And if I have to make you cum one thousand times to make you forgive me, I’ll do it,” Ari went on, pounding into you harder, his hips smacking against your ass with every thrust, wringing mindless moans from your lips while he kept spilling filth in your ear. “I’ll fuck your sweet little cunt until she’s so sensitive and swollen, you’ll be begging me to stop—but I won’t. I’ll make you cum on my cock so many times you’ll be forgiving me over and over and over again.”

Ari punctuated each of his words with a ruthless thrust, the clapping of his skin against yours loud in the quiet and otherwise peaceful afternoon. It was all you could do to mutter, “Oh god,” and cling on to Ari’s hands, holding him tightly while you took every inch of his cock and every single one of his rough thrusts.

“And then, when you’re addicted to my cock and you’ve finally forgiven me—really, truly forgiven me—I’ll put a pretty little ring on this finger,” Ari rumbled, squeezing your left ring finger between two of his own, so you couldn’t possibly misunderstand what he was saying. “And I’m going to make you my wife. How does that sound, baby?”

A sob of overwhelming bliss wrenched free from your lips, your mouth too busy wailing your pleasure to form words to respond.

But it didn’t matter that you couldn’t answer Ari’s question with words because you knew from the way he chuckled in your ear that he’d felt the way your pussy had clenched down on him when he’d said he was going to make you his wife. Your body had answered for you, and it had been much more honest than your mouth would’ve been.

Ari kept fucking you, perfectly hard and perfectly fast, and the pleasure swirling through your body was reaching a fever pitch. It was almost too much for you to bear, so you turned your head and buried your face against Ari’s thick bicep. Mindless moans spilled from your lips as your teeth pressed instinctively into the hard, flexing muscle.

“That’s it—bite me, baby,” Ari cooed in your ear while he shoved his other arm under your body, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing the aching bundle of nerves in tight, ruthless circles. “Bite me while you’re cumming all over my fat cock like the good girl I know you are.”

Ari’s words and his relentless determination to make you cum were your undoing.

You came with a muffled scream, your teeth sinking so deep into Ari’s bicep, you knew you’d leave a mark behind. That thought only made you cum even harder, your body trembling and shaking with the force of the pleasure crashing over you.

Ari followed right after you, his hips rutting into you for a few more thrusts before he came with a grunt, his cock twitching as he spilled his seed deep in your pussy. The two of you writhed together, eking out every last shred of pleasure before eventually collapsing on the sun lounger with exhaustion.

Maneuvering the two of you onto your sides, Ari held you in the cradle of his arms, his cock staying wedged deep inside you so you kept him warm as he gradually softened. You dozed off in the comfort of Ari’s hold, feeling his heart beating against your spine and listening to his soft breaths mingling with the gentle lapping of the ocean.

After a time, Ari roused you from sleep, murmuring in your ear that the two of you should take a quick dip in the pool before deciding what to order for dinner. The sun had fallen low in the sky, ducking behind the house so that the deck was cast in shade, but the air was still pleasantly warm.

The cool water of the pool helped to wake you up, and there was a pleasurable burn in your muscles as you swam and splashed and fooled around with Ari.

Before you dragged yourselves from the pool, he fucked you again, using the gentle weightlessness of the water to lift you up and down on his cock while your head lolled against his shoulder and you moaned your pleasure into his neck.

When the two of you finally stumbled back inside, smelling like chlorine and sunshine, Freddie hopped up from the patch of light he’d been laying in at the front of the house. He chirped happily, twisting around your ankles and waiting for a brief pet before he pranced over to Ari.

Freddie rubbed his furry body against Ari’s calves, staring up at the man like he’d hung the stars and moon in the sky. Your cat’s welcome made the infuriatingly handsome CEO chuckle affectionately while he bent down to scuff the creature under the chin, murmuring soft praises to the beast.

It was too much for your heart—too sweet and pure and perfect—and you fell in love with Ari Levinson in that exact moment, though it would be many more months before you confessed those feelings to the man himself.

By the time you did, Ari would have whispered his love into every inch of your body. When the words finally fell from your lips, he would chuckle, having known it before you’d voiced it, because he knew your heart better than anyone else in the world. Even Freddie.

That first Valentine’s Day with Ari was much better than watching trashy TV with a bottle of rosé. In fact, it was the best you’d ever had. That is, until the next year’s Valentine’s Day, when Ari whisked you and Freddie off to another tropical location, and fulfilled the promise he’d made about putting a ring on your finger.

The Valentine’s Day after that, Ari Levinson made you his wife. And the two of you lived happily ever after.

sweethearts game masterlist

#ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x you #ari levinson au #ari levinson one shot #ari levinson imagine #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #witchywithwhiskey's sweethearts #witchywithwhiskeywork #buck-star

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prompt-heaven · 1 year ago

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smut prompt list no. 2

1) overwhelmed, but happy crying during sex

2) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over

3) depression sex in order to feel something good for once

4) messy drunk sex that is then forgotten the morning after

5) filming it, either for private purposes or because they’re amateur pornstars

6) mutual masturbation

7) spying on/walking in on their partner touching themself

8) sex in exchange for a favour

9) car sex

10) quiet airplane bathroom sex

11) touching the other while at the movies

12) sex while there is the background noise of a rainstorm outside

13) being snowed in together and fucking in front of the fireplace

14) pool/hot tub sex

15) stargazing that turns into sex

16) the classic “oh, let me help you put some sunscreen on” but then the little massage turns into something more

17) sex while camping

18) fucking in the bar bathroom and being too drunk to care about being quiet

19) when the teasing in the dressing room gets a little too hot

20) shower/bath sex

#writing prompts #writer resources #prompts #smut prompts #prompt list #romance prompts #otp prompts #romance writing #romance prompts writing #smutty prompts #writeblr #smut prompt #smut starter #smut ideas #smut

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rafecameronssl4t · 11 months ago

Note

for rafe x thornton!reader: boat day with topper and sarah 😋

Boat day || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

You always looked forward to Sundays. The entire day spent out on either your boyfriends’ or brothers’ boat along with Sarah, drinking and eating—it honestly couldn’t get any better.

“Y/n, are you even listening?” Sarah’s light tap on your thigh broke your trance, drawing your gaze away from Rafe momentarily. “Huh?” You blinked innocently, meeting Sarah’s amused grin.

“I said it’s time to turn over,” she chuckled softly, adjusting herself on the plush day bed. “But you were too busy ogling at Rafe, simp!” Sarah teased, prompting you to playfully grab a nearby pillow and lightly swat her with it, eliciting a playful shriek from her. “Kidding! Just kidding!”

“I am not a simp, Sarah Cameron,” you retorted with a mock glare, rolling over onto your stomach. From this new angle, you could steal glances at Rafe deep in conversation with your brother. His recent buzzed haircut somehow made him even more irresistible, a fact you couldn’t help but notice.

Noticing your gaze, Rafe smirked to himself and called out to you, “You doing alright?” Your smile turned shy as you nodded, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “Could you come put sunscreen on my back, please?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Rafe reached for the sunscreen bottle beside him,“Thought you already applied some?” Sarah chimed in with a knowing smile, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Can never wear too much sunscreen,” you shrugged, sharing a conspiratorial smile with her.

You closed your eyes as Rafe knelt behind you, his hands warm and firm as he began to massage sunscreen into your skin. The sensation was both soothing and intimate, his touch sending tingles of pleasure through you.

His skilled hands ventured lower, tracing delicate patterns on your back with firm yet gentle strokes. A playful giggle escaped your lips as his touch dipped teasingly under the edge of your bikini bottom, his fingertips brushing the soft skin of your ass.

“You just wanted an excuse for me to touch you, didn’t you?” Rafe’s low whisper brushed against your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine. You giggled softly, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. “Maybe,” you teased back as he lightly smacks your ass.

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thisapplepielife · 2 months ago

Text

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

A Perfect 40

Eddie is kicked back on the panel, his paddles piled up in front of him. He's the worst person to judge a wet t-shirt contest. He's not exactly a boob man. But the other three were thrilled, so he was game. He'll just give all the girls 10s and call it a day.

They parade each contestant out, wet, white tees clinging to their bare breasts and true to his word, it's 10s from him. Everybody's going home happy on his watch.

Then, Eddie finds a good reason to sit up straight. The only straight he'll ever be.

There's a guy, with perfect hair, and a skintight white shirt clinging to his torso, showing the thick thatch of chest hair underneath. And a slight softness at the middle, offsetting his broad fucking shoulders.

And then the swim trunks. The goddamn swim trunks. They're wet, too, and ain't hiding shit. The bulge that the material is clinging to is gonna drive Eddie insane, right here in public. He looks big. Eddie likes big.

He licks his lips, making eye contact with this perfect 10.

Then, Eddie's distraught. He wasted all those previous perfect 10s on boobs. Now, he sees tits. Manly, hairy tits, a happy trail showing through the white fabric, and that goddamn cock on display that he wants to get up close and personal with immediately. This is the one that deserves the highest score. The other guys are holding up middling numbers, fives, and a disgraceful three from Goodie, and Eddie has to act. He reaches next to him and grabs Gareth's ten paddle. And holds it up along with his own. Giving him a 20.

The guy laughs, and it's not enough, he bullies another 10 paddle away from Goodie, and snaps his fingers at Jeff, who relinquishes his without a fuss.

40.

This guy deserves a 40, and Eddie's gonna give it to him.

And then he winks. He winks at Eddie.

Eddie reaches for Gareth's 9, the next best thing, and gets his hand slapped in the process.

Oh well. 40 will do.

As far as Eddie's concerned, get this guy his prize money. His crown. He's obviously the chosen one. The winner.

One of the stage managers is trying to argue behind them that Eddie's cheating, and it's not allowed. Eddie argues that no rules were laid out that said he only could use one paddle at a time.

He's pedantic, but not wrong.

They eventually stop arguing with him, crown some bleach blonde with big boobs the winner, and the hot guy is given some sort of honorary runner-up. A concession to try and keep Eddie's mouth shut.

He won't cause a scene, but they are the goddamn, dirty cheaters. Not him. He just gamed the system. There's a difference.

Then, the stage clears, and Mr. Body Hair is gone.

Leaving Eddie bereft.

Backstage, they get their swag bags for participating and there's only one prize Eddie wants in the bottom of his cereal box.

Eddie steps out onto the beach, and scans the surrounding area. He finally spots him, pulling off his shirt. Which, amazing. Less amazing is his girlfriend fussing over him, rubbing him with a towel, then putting more sunscreen on him.

Lucky broad.

Eddie's about to turn around and head back, when she meets his eyes. And nudges the guy, who turns.

He grins, striding towards Eddie, and there's a glob of sunscreen clinging to his nose. Eddie reaches out and rubs it in, paying extra attention to the pair of moles on his cheek. The guy closes his eyes and lets Eddie do it.

Goddamn.

"The real winner, robbed," Eddie says, "I'm Eddie."

"Steve," the guy answers.

"Well, you should have won, Steve. Rigged system. It's an injustice. Maybe a class action lawsuit in the making. I'll join you."

Steve smiles.

"They didn't say a guy couldn't enter," Steve quips, and that's the exact kind of disobedience and bending of rules Eddie fully appreciates.

"And they didn't say I couldn't use all the paddles I could hold," Eddie banters back. Then he reaches for his wallet. Thumbs through it. He doesn't have enough to match the original prize money, but he takes out the hundred dollar bills he does have.

"I'll pay up. Even if they won't," Eddie says, and Steve shakes his head.

"No way, I'm not taking your money. I just did it for fun."

"Don't make me put it in your g-string."

Steve laughs, looking down, "I'm not wearing a g-string."

Eddie's well aware of that, but banters back, "Damn. Ruin a guy's dream, why dontcha?"

Steve tries to press it back into Eddie's chest as he laughs.

"He won't take it, but I will. That's a month's rent, dingus," Steve's girlfriend says, and Eddie hands it over. She's been damn cool about the whole thing.

"Robin!" he chides. "I'm sorry. I swear she's housebroken."

She kicks him in the shin, and he kicks back.

Definitely not a girlfriend. Sister?

"Best friend," Steve says, as if he's reading Eddie's mind, "Most days. When she's not acting like this."

Best friend? Eddie's lucky day.

"Well, in that case," Eddie says, really turning up the charm, "You wanna get out of here? I have ten inches I could settle up with."

Steve raises an eyebrow, challenging his claim wordlessly, and Eddie laughs, delighted at being called out. Nobody calls him out anymore. That's the price of fame. Yes men. Steve doesn't seem like a yes man.

Eddie grins, flirting, "Okay, I don't. But you won't tell anybody, right? That'll be our little secret. You and me. Eddie and Steve."

Steve's a good sport, that much is obvious, especially when he banters back, "Deal. I won't get out the tape measure if you don't."

"That's mighty kind of you."

"I wouldn't want to show you up," Steve quips, grinning.

Eddie glances at Steve's wet trunks, and just grins devilishly.

Oh, Eddie's in trouble with this one. Big trouble.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on Spring Break prompts, or to offer up your own!

#corrodedcoffinfest #prompt: sunscreen #steddie fic #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fic #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest

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mariasont · 1 month ago

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unwinding (with conditions)

you struggle to relax during a bau beach day, so hotch decides to personally enforce it.

pairing: aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader warnings: fem!reader, age gap, power dynamics, reader loves following hotch's orders, implied that reader might be getting burnt on her shoulders, fluffy fluff prompt: here wc: 0.8k

You’re halfway through asking Rossi — for maybe the sixth time — if he’s absolutely sure he doesn’t need another iced tea, because honestly, the sun is brutal, and no one appreciates dehydration-induced grumpiness, when you hear Hotch’s voice behind you.

“Sit down.” It’s gentle enough that it shouldn’t feel like an order, but somehow you’re instantly frozen, fully Pavlovian, which you’d be embarrassed about if it wasn’t so annoyingly effective.

Your mouth pops open on instinct, already prepared to launch into a nervous, overly detailed explanation, but he holds up a finger, immediately silencing the runaway train of thoughts.

“You’re making me dizzy,” he murmurs, and there’s the slightest curl at the corner of his mouth.

He nods firmly to the empty chair beside him, and your body immediately obeys without waiting for explicit permission from your brain.

“You’re not at work right now,” Hotch reminds you, raising one perfectly judgmental eyebrow. “It’s vacation. I expect you to relax.”

You almost choke on your next breath, because it’s borderline hilarious — no, totally hilarious — that Aaron Freaking Hotchner, Mr. Serious, Mr. Always-in-Control, is lecturing you about relaxing. Pot, kettle, meet black.

Yet, as funny as the advice sounds coming from him, you’re decently sure you’d dive headfirst into the ocean fully clothed if he even mildly suggested it.

You sink deeper into your chair, fingers gripping so hard you might dent the plastic. It’s marginally excruciating to sit idle, especially when you overhear Emily muttering anxiously about missing towels, and Morgan casually admitting the cooler isn’t properly stocked.

Fix it, fix it, fix it! your brain chants frantically — fingers twitching, body instinctively inching forward — but each subtle movement is immediately intercepted by Hotch’s silent reprimand. It feels exactly like a leash, yanking you firmly back whenever you start to stray.

His eyes send a very simple, very clear shorthand — Don’t even think about it.

You’re seconds from genuinely relaxing (maybe, sort of) when JJ casually wonders if there’s enough sunscreen to go around. Your hand flies into action, practically throwing a tube at Spencer, who catches it with wide, startled eyes.

You feel Hotch’s gaze.

“He’d complain directly to you, you know. Loudly. At length.” You gesture in Spencer’s direction. “Honestly, I’m doing you a favor. This is me, relaxing by saving you from Reid’s inevitable whining about burns.”

Hotch’s eyes flick toward you, sunglasses slipping down his nose just enough for him to deliver a mocking stare. “I’m not suggesting you abandon your humanitarian efforts entirely,” he drawls. “But maybe, just this week, try prioritizing your own comfort.”

“I prioritize myself plenty,” you shoot back, voice pitched just a little too high, okay, fine, maybe a blatant lie, but admitting defeat isn’t in the cards.

Hotch stares blankly, his face slipping into that perfectly neutral mask he wears when he’s silently calling your bluff. He pointedly looks at your shoulders — your very exposed, possibly burning shoulders — and sighs softly.

“Fascinating,” he says, with exactly zero sincerity. “Did prioritizing yourself happen to include remembering sunscreen today, or did you skip straight to worrying about everyone else?”

You pause, mentally rewinding through your morning. You clearly remember picking up the sunscreen, fully intending to put it on — right until Rossi had innocently asked if anyone had brought orange juice, and then your brain switched gears.

“Um… no.”

Hotch sighs and motions to Spencer.

“Reid,” he says dryly, holding out his hand, “the sunscreen, please.”

Spencer quickly passes it over, expression suspiciously pleased as Hotch steps behind your chair, his shadow falling over you.

“Lean forward,” he says evenly, and you follow his instruction without a single conscious thought.

You bite down sharply on your tongue as soon as Hotch’s hands touch your shoulders, because, wow, this was a terrible, horrible, fantastic idea. His palms feel impossibly large against your skin, but surprisingly gentle as he carefully smooths the sunscreen into your skin.

It’s practically, completely platonic — but your heart stubbornly refuses to accept that logic, pounding wildly, racing far faster than it has any right to.

You’re desperately thankful he can’t see your face, because right now your crush is so obvious it might as well be flashing in neon lights. Do not moan, your brain scolds, though you’re seriously not convinced you’ll manage.

You’re holding your breath, lungs frozen mid-inhale as Hotch’s fingertips brush beneath your bikini strings, slipping gently along skin you’re certain has never been this sensitive before. Just when you think you’re sure your heart has stopped entirely — his hands trail up your shoulders to the back of your neck, gently squeezing — it restarts at double speed.

“There,” he says. “Maybe now you’ll finally sit still for more than thirty seconds.”

You’re proud to say you lasted a whole twenty-seven minutes before discreetly rearranging the snacks and fetching Hotch another bottle of water. He rewards you with a pointed look and an exasperated shake of his head, but it softens into something fond.

So maybe true relaxation isn’t quite within reach yet, but judging by the amusement in Hotch’s eyes, you figure you’re doing something right anyway.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

day 4 extras

💌 click here to check in → confirm your room (and crush)

maria's spring break getaway masterlist

#mariasspringbreakgetaway #mariaversegetawaytrip #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #hotchner #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x sweetheart reader #aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader

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blueheron15 · 2 months ago

Note

Can you write JJ being sooo rough with reader after Rafe flirts with her

BOOM SHAKALAKA YES LAWWWD 🙌🔥

just imagine ur at a kegger. the sun is nearly setting, and your sweat and sunscreen are sticky as you dance sensually to the blasting music, one hand threading through your slick hair as you wiggle your hips, giggling with sarah, cleo and kie.

you wander off to get another drink, and rafe can’t help but notice how you’re gorgeous and glowing. your tits are practically spilling out of your top and your jean shorts are soo tiny. he takes a puff of his joint before pushing himself off the tree he’s kicked back against before approaching you.

he gets to the beer bottle you are reaching for first. “allow me” he says cockily with a wink. you scoff. he bites the cap off with his mouth, offering you the bottle.

“rafe, be so for real.” you roll your eyes, reaching for a different beer.

“hey.” he says. a bit harsh, but more commanding. seductive. “i offered you this beer. been hearin all this shit how you’re the islands sweetheart. so be a good girl n take it, yeah?”

you can’t even respond due to your notice of his eyes flicking up and down your body.

“ya know, you look pretty hot for a pogue.”

before you have the chance to raise your middle finger, you feel a booming presence behind you. a familiar hand grips your hip harshly.

“the fuck you think you’re doin?” jj spits.

rafe raises his hands in mock surrender. “jeez.” he says, in that slurred, drawn out and thought out voice of his. he lets out a breathy laugh. “you pogues… so tense. cant a guy have a lil fun round here?”

“nah, not with my girl you can’t.” jj seethes.

“alright man” he concedes. “just chill out, bro.” he fake smiles, slamming the bottle into your chest, but glaring at jj behind you. “just take this, tho. the little slut of yours wanted it real bad.”

jj immediately shoved you to the side, lunging at rafe. they threw a couple of swings at one another, but you were able to end the fight pretty quickly. this was bound to happen at keggers, anyway.

jj sniffed, sweeping a hair through his blond locks as he watched topper and kelce parade rafe away through narrowed eyes. “get the fuck back to your side of the island and stay there!”

“screw you!” rafe roared.

“jj!” you chided. half annoyed half concerned. placing one hand on his beefy bicep, and one cradling his face, you forced him to look at you. “you didn’t need to do that! i had it handled! are you alright, though? i-“

he looked at you intensely, breathing raggedly. he whispered possessively. “only one who gets to call you a slut is me.”

you knew what that meant. when jj was in his dominant, rough moods, you were in for the best pain imaginable.

he sped back to his house (faster than he normally drives) knowing that luke was god knows where, and knowing your screams and moans were going to be loud enough to disturb the whole cut.

he fucks you roughly from behind on his bed. one hand keeps your ass pressed flush against his hips, the other grips your hair into a ponytail.

he throws his head back and lets out a grunt. your practically drooling onto the pillow, your eyes rolling back into your head as you go completely cock dumb.

he trails hot kisses up your back, slipping his hand to squeeze your neck and leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

“takin it so good for me, hm?”

all you can do is moan in response, prompting him to squeeze your throat tighter. “y-yes!” you choke out. it’s part moan, part plea, part pain.

“yeahhh you are. like the little slut you are for me. only me. fucking say it.” he practically seethes.

“only y-you, jay. only you!” you moan.

even after your pussy squirts all over his cock, he relentlessly drills himself into you. until you continue to cum and cum over and over again.

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #bf!jj maybank #rough kink #sub!reader #rafe cameron #rafe obx

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pomefioredove · 17 days ago

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Hello! Can I please get a #3 sugar cookie with frosting, sprinkles, and chocolate drizzle? Thank you and happy holidays! 😊

delicious yummy prompt... thank you for waiting so patiently, anon! here's one vil fic to finish off apvril

order #3, sugar with frosting, sprinkles, chocolate drizzle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ are you happy?

summary: an unexpected meeting with fate, and your ex-husband tropes: only one bed, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers characters: vil additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, post-nrc, but also at nrc, DIVORCE!!! I LOVE DIVORCE!! this is long because angst

To the observer, to the other, to the hungry tabloid reporters and your own friends, it was simple: Vil Schoenheit had ruined your life.

Two years wasted on lavender-scented sunscreen and mud baths and a man who dumped you for a movie deal.

It was hard, and you told yourself you'd been through worse: overblots, burns, cuts, broken teeth and bruised ribs, even Crewel's make-up exams. But not even the end of the world itself could hold a candle to this.

This. Anger. This poisonous resentment that filled your lungs, forced bile from your throat, and left a bitter taste on your tongue. This sadness, this fear, this confusion. It left you feeling young again, in all the worst ways. If you closed your eyes, you could feel the drafty, mildewed interior of Ramshackle, the splinters under your cold hands, the moon which so resembled your own home's in the grinning, gap-toothed roof.

You had moved on from that. From Ramshackle, yes, but also from the hope that you might ever see your home again.

He had been there for you, of course. Consoling you, coddling you. Letting you ramble on about your culture and family and the place you grew up, and he was your sanctuary, your escape from reality, from the cold, broken world you had been brought into.

Vil was thoughtful in that way. Always thinking of you. For you.

There was a time when it was difficult- nay, impossible, to imagine yourself without him. He had swept you up in the luxury of loyalty, taken you under his wing like a true mother bird.

That was years ago. And now you're older, lonelier, the subject of pitiful whispers and prying eyes. Your luxurious life had plummeted down into the dirt, exactly where you started. No longer the spouse of a superstar, the sexiest man alive (named so six years in a row by Shaftlands Quarterly). No, now you were nothing but a name lost to internet forums and inactive fan blogs, and you're an employee of Night Raven College.

Funny how that works, isn't it?

More of a peer to the professors who had chastised you for being tardy and forgetting your books than to the students who were once your friends.

Another year of work, another year closer to death, another year further from home.

"And refreshments," Sam says, setting a crate of bottled cranberry cocktails (non-alcoholic, as explained on the label) on the table.

You raise an eyebrow. "Refreshments? Dire is going all out this year, is he?"

"Well, as it so happens, we have very special clientele," Sam smirks. "We want to impress the-"

"Donors," you both say, your own words accompanied by a sigh. "Why am I not surprised?"

Sam shrugs, and you almost smile, unpacking the crates with practiced precision. This wasn't your first family day, after all. Far from it.

"Who's it this time? Another prince? A billionaire heir?"

Sam doesn't respond. Your hands still, and you look over your shoulder at him. He's never one to shy away from work gossip.

Unless...

"Who is it?" you repeat. Sam tsks.

"Schoenheit's boy,"

Your fingers clench around the bottles, nearly crushing them between your dry, worn palms.

You say nothing.

Sam takes to helping you with the drinks, clearing the crate and dressing the table to avoid the awkwardness heavy in the air.

And, then, you speak.

"I didn't know he had children. Well, good for him. I'm sure he's very proud,"

"Positive," Sam deadpans, studying the forced indifference on your face.

"...I'll cover for you."

"Thank you," you exhale, hoping the tension in your body will carry away with your breath. It doesn't.

Cold. It's still cold here.

All of the renovations, all of the hours, all of the sweat and tears and bumps on your head and splinters in your fingers, and Ramshackle is still freezing.

And you even have a fire going. For old time's sake.

It's been years since you'd spent a night in your old dorm, but you couldn't bring yourself to take the long walk back to your apartment in Foothill Town.

Besides, it's a beautiful night.

The sky is clear, and the stars are out.

...Malleus had told you something about stars, once. That they don't change. For all of our worries and woes, for all the human drama in the world, the stars stay as they are. Smiling.

The thought disturbs you. You hadn't let your mind linger on Malleus in years. You only had pieces of him, from the gossip of your coworkers, and even then, they had little to say.

That's how you heard about most of them. Your former classmates. Your friends.

It had been your fault. After you and Vil started arguing, after you were sure there was no saving your marriage, you had forced everyone away. You didn't want to see them. Constant reminders of what you'd once had. No, what you could have had.

He has a son.

A boy. Going to Night Raven College. No doubt a talented mage, like his father. Maybe he has more children. You don't know. You suppose you never will.

Had he married, then? Had his career suddenly not mattered as much as when you were with him? How long did it take? Ten years? One? A month?

You aren't important enough to be asking these questions. You'd always had a bad habit of obsessing over the past, what could have been, what should have been. You supposed it was only a symptom of what had happened to you. That's how Crowley explained it.

Trein had told you, once, sometimes, these things never go away. You never grow out of grief. Mourning makes itself a home within you, like a disease, or a memory, which are more often than not the same miserable affliction.

Would you be like this forever, then? Your body would age and change but your mind would stay here, in bed, in Ramshackle, memorizing the grooves in the wood grain of the ceiling? Dreaming of something else?

You had tried to live, to have an adventure. You had married the prince, you had escaped the tower, you had lived happily ever after. And now you're too old for adventures, and so you only think about other ones.

Perhaps you were suited for a life of pencil-pushing and paperwork. Student records and attendance forms couldn't argue with you, after all.

It made you sympathetic for Crowley, in a way, which was surely a sign of an impending psychotic episode.

"Ah, you're here,"

You shoot up in bed, eyes wide, and your back aches from the sharp movement. Even in the dark of the room, the fading light of day, you recognize him.

You could feel his presence, imposing and impersonal.

"You know..." Vil starts, sitting at the edge of your bed, but delicately, as if afraid he'll frighten you.

"This is the very last place I would've expected you to be."

You look up into the rafters, dripping rainwater and dusted with mold.

"...Likewise. What are you doing here?"

"Don't be foolish, it isn't a flattering look on you," he says. "You know very well I'm here to see you. I wouldn't have come for family day if not for you."

Something in your chest tightens, and the same thing on your tongue, and you forget to speak. He's happy to supply your words for you.

"When did my father ever come to one of these? They're wastes of time, pitiful panhandling attempts from that Headmage of yours,"

"You knew I wouldn't want to see you," you argue.

He smiles, smugly satisfied with your answer, as if you're saying all the things he expected you to. You hate that. "And you knew you wouldn't have a choice,"

Silence follows. Your fingers feel around the bed, finding the limp sheets and pulling them over your chest, like a small child hiding from a monster in the dark.

"You have a son," you say.

Vil hums. "And a daughter,"

"And?"

"And," he repeats the word, as if you had spoken it in another language. "And, what?"

"And? Unlike me, those children didn't come out of nowhere,"

Vil scoffs, though he seems more amused by your sarcasm than not. That's different.

He smooths out the black of his pants, and removes his woollen gloves. Overdressed, even for an event he despises. That's more like him.

"Their mother and I divorced six years ago," he says, as stern as he could, as if he would sooner die than give you the satisfaction of seeing him disturbed. "It was an amicable affair- unlike ours. We had simply fallen out of interest."

Out of interest. Not out of love, you note.

You frown. "Who was she?"

"An actress. We met on the set of the movie,"

You feel a shadow pass over you, a shiver up your spine. The movie, the final nail in the coffin of your marriage. You had been young, too young to marry, really, and you were unhappy with how much time he spent away from you. His career had always come first. The movie- a romantic drama that Neige LeBlanche (now married, happily settled and retired from acting) had passed on- was set to be filmed for six months, across the world from you.

You had begged him not to go. He had gone.

"No children of your own, I presume?" Vil asks, breaking the splintered silence.

"Grim," you say. "But... no human ones."

"Are you seeing someone?"

You won't give him the satisfaction. "I suppose you could say that,"

"Are you happy?"

You shift. The sheets bunch around your waist and the wind blows through the many broken windows in Ramshackle's walls. You're not quite sure how to answer that, and you're also not quite sure why he asked.

Are you happy?

"I'm better," you manage, "Than I was a few years ago. I'm back on my feet."

Vil hums. "I'm glad,"

You lie back down in bed, as if you might really fall asleep here, and dream of being anyone but yourself. Vil lies by your side and looking at the stars through the cat-sized hole in the roof above your heads, as if in understanding.

You don't look at him. "Are you happy?"

"No,"

You don't look at him. "Is it my fault?"

"No,"

You won't look at him. "Would things have been better if we never knew each other at all?"

That's the first time you've said that aloud. Sixteen years of feeling it in your throat and chest and fingertips.

Vil turns to you, and "Don't be stupid," is what he says. "I wouldn't change a thing. I wouldn't unmarry my ex-wife, I wouldn't unhave my children, I wouldn't forget you. And I know it's terribly selfish. I had always hoped you'd never go home, but when I'd gotten my wish, I took it for granted. I lost you. I've been divorced twice for the same reason- tabloids have made millions on my stupidity. We were children. And foolish ones, at that. I had always thought myself so mature- matronly. I wasn't ready. For any of it."

You look at him. "For any of it?"

"For any of it. And neither were you,"

He cups your cheek in his palm, not feeling for blemishes or dryness, but for the warmth of your body. "I can only hope that you might find it within yourself to forgive me,"

You can't. You don't want to. Forgiving him would be no better than saying goodbye, than finally letting go of yourself, the grief of the people and places you once knew. It would finally force you to grow up.

You aren't ready. You weren't then, you aren't now.

But there's a bead of sweat on his forehead, and a tremble in his lip, that betray something you hadn't even seen when you were married.

He's afraid.

Of what, you can't be sure. You don't actually want to know.

"I do," You breathe outward, your warm breath visible in the cold air. Vil kisses your forehead, and sits in bed. You follow.

"I'd like to see you again. Preferably not in another sixteen years," he says, putting his gloves on, his touch becoming warmer and yet more impersonal. "I'll be visiting my son often. I'm trying to avoid becoming his manager, rather than his father. Lunch?"

Despite his indifference, the professional, confident way of his words, there's still a stammer in his voice, a crack in his lavender-scented mask of perfection.

He's aged, now. There are lines under his eyes.

And you nod. "Lunch. I'll... I'll have Di- The Headmage send you my schedule,"

"Hmph. Better to do it yourself," Vil smiles. "I'll be in touch."

He leaves you there, in Ramshackle, on your bed, the same one you had spent every night for years on, dreaming of something else. You can see your future from here. It's not awful.

Your fingers feel up your forehead, finding nothing but the residue of chapstick.

You hadn't even noticed he wasn't wearing makeup.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #queued

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