It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.

By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊

anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.

It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

I Could Request The Double Life Of The Reader, One As An Agent And The Other As A Camgirl. Hotchner Is

introducing--

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader

Words: 3k

CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.

a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind.

Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him.

It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.

A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall.

No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.

The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl.

Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had.

But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months.

To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site.

The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before.

He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself.

And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle.

She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.

It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes.

He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.

Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations.

It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable.

But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office.

He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.

Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—

user1102: Bunny.

bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚

user1102: Can we play?

Bouncingbunny1: yes sir

He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free.

You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit.

You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree.

You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book.

But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show.

You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.

That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself.

And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.

You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events.

He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye.

You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.

You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.

“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock.

“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions.

“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires.

“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”

He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going.

That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot.

“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock.

“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”

He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him.

You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body.

You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body.

You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly.

You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you.

Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her.

You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail.

It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know.

He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him.

user1102: Bunny, I need you.

The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds.

He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched.

But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered.

“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried.

He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on.

You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep.

“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”

With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in.

Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it.

You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief.

Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants.

You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter.

“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself.

Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement.

You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further.

“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”

He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.

There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.

His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully.

“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—

user1102: Come to my room.

The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.

Who the fuck did they both think they were?

bouncingbunny1: ???

user1102: 604

The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd.

user1102: Now, bunny.

You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?

At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long.

You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you.

“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”

“No, Master.”

this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.

y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh

Fics that defined my love of f1 rpf

In celebration of literally nothing actually, i bring you a fic rec list of some of my favourites!!! very condensed (100+ -> 15 not even including tumblr fics) and im kinda sad i cant put all of my favs down lol but these are like my must reads!!

pleaseeee read these if u havent already its all amazing even if you dont vibe with the ships themselves

Strollonso:

silver platter by atwater | E | 9k

Literally the first fic I've ever read and basically got me into this fandom (and ship). Theyre both so unhinged and amazing it's a very fun read. Probably the best written lance ive every read.

Make Sound by antimonyandthyme | E | 1k

Makes me so fucking insane no notes this is just amazing oh my god

I make two grand an hour by Kaytheologie | E | 3k

Literally so hot and so amazing. lance is so bitchy in this one is great. amazing writing and amazing premise, literally inspired me to sketch out something right after (might finish it at some point)

Sewis:

provenance by ecorone | M | 18K

Literally the fic that introduced and made me fall in love with sewis. it wrecked me like i still havent recovered at all. the writing itself is just, i vibe to it so much

The Numbering at Bethlehem by Kaytheologie | E | 26k

might be one of my favourite fics, ever. what a masterpiece genuinely the environment is just so immersive and lush. ive reread it a dozen time and it never gets old

Brocedes:

you're my purple candy high by nothoughtsjustvibes | M | 5k

baby's first brocedes 🥹 started my love affair with emotional destruction. ruined me when i just first read it and ruined me every time after that. The writing is so profound and laid out their tragedy bare.

the torture of small talk with someone you used to love by finedae | T | 2k

baby's first nico fic!! it also destroyed me!! i think this is the one that made me join f1br bc i was just so obsessed with the writing i needed to know what the author was like lol.

3344:

special research vessels by ecorone | M | 15k

listen i thought this ship wouldve been more popular than it is LOL or at least not as hated. regardless, i love this fic so much. I love the environment, I love the dialogue, the characterization, everything. It's just such an amazing reading experience

matchstick people by ecorone | E | 60k

if you havent noticed by now, im obsessed with this author. the prose, the characterizations, how beautifully the magical realism of it all was realized. horror as a genre is so underutilized in fanfics as a whole but when its done, its done amazingly. love love love

Others:

crude generalisations and vulgar simplifications by crescenteluce | E | 14k | Alexander Albon/George Russell

This fic is THE galex fic for me. it so funny and the writing is so witty its just fun to read. love the way the environment is constructed and it everything just feels so real. amazing

it's more than I can bear: this interminable want, turning and turning. by Anonymous | E | 2k | Fernando Alonso/George Russell

The vibes are rancid, the ships are niche, the writing is good. what more do you need? i love reading this and i love thinking about this.

Amen by sirius | M | 9k | Fernando Alonso/Lewis Hamilton

THE ferwis fic is my mind and mad me unreasonably obsessed with this ship. its so well written- like i love the characterization so much it makes me insane.

on golden sands bysionisjaune | T | 6k | Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg/Sebastian Vettel

Listen, this and the ships that go sailing are both just amazingly entertaining fics. its objectively such a good read and i enjoy spending my time reading it. its just so fun!

steal the air out of my lungs (make me feel it) by nahco3 | E | 26K | Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

My favourite medical au fic!! ever!!! everything is just so well realized and the characterization is just spot on!! love everything about this fic and nothing i say can fully explain how amazing this fic is!!!

Shutter Speed byantimonyandthyme | E | 18k | Sebastian Vettel/Mark Webber

got me into photography lol. made me purchase my first actual camera. dont know what else to say its just that amazing

882 notes View Post

pleaseultraviolenceme

1 year ago

love thy neighbor - t.wolff

masterlist

pairings: Toto Wolff x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of ideas not intended for minors + next door neighbor trope + NO age gap!(for the sake of the fic both reader and Toto are relatively close in age)

a/n: been working on this one for a hot minute! hope you enjoy xx

you never hated your neighbor. to be fair, to hate someone you have to know their name and all you know is he has a extravagant life style to afford vintage Mercedes Benz cars and have shelves full of trophies. call yourself a snooper, but the man across the way was never good at hiding his life from your window.

his lifestyle was far different than anyone in the cul de sac you live in. half of them being retired home owners, plus you two. middle aged adults with paychecks able to afford the expense of a home in Monaco.

you don’t question why he has so many trophies, and you’ll never have the time, but it doesn’t stop your morning coffee imagination at the dinning room table. you have the perfect view inside a part of his space.

yes, whoever created these two houses must’ve been complete creeps or family, because nobody ever has windows that are directly into another persons house. but you never questioned it, you just closed the blinds at night or whenever his light was on too early in the morning for you.

today was a morning he was dressed to the nines. a blazer, white dress shirt(typical fashion of his), and dress pants. he lays two ties out and you watch him decide which one to wear. you feel awfully embarrassed when his eyes catch yours, but he sends a slight wave, and you hold up a finger indicating which option was best.

you can’t hear it, but all you see is him laugh and it makes you wonder what it sounds like. is it husky? more from the belly? is it contagious?

you need sleep, these thoughts about your neighbor are certainly overpowering any senses that coffee can’t seem to help.

—

he’s gone most weekends. his vintage Mercedes sits in the driveway, top on in case of a rainstorm, but his lights in the house are off. he’s got endless amounts of packages piling up outside his doorstep that would have you eager to rip them open if they were yours.

a long day of grocery shopping and dinner at your parents in town took a lot out of you. you shove your key into the lock of your door, hearing the rumble of the infamous neighbors Mercedes speed around the cul de sac until he pulls into his driveway and cuts the engine.

your door is half open, you’re halfway in it, but it’s like you’re watching something out of a movie scene. the way he gets out of the car is like in slow motion. his rolled up white dress shirt sleeves have creases across the arms. his brief case sits on the top of his car as he slams the door shut behind him rudely awakening your little stare.

a blush forms to your cheeks as you quickly slam your door behind you once you’ve shoved yourself inside. your back rests against the door, heart beating against your chest it’s almost as loud as the knock that comes next.

you jolt away from the door, moving yourself onto your tippy toes you see him. he’s holding one of your bags of groceries you left at the door step, he’s got one hand clutching his brief case, the other gripping the plastic bag full of embarrassing items (ie: tampons and other toiletries).

if you could hate one person right now, it’s you. how could you let yourself get so immersed in him that you literally dropped what you were doing and stared like a little girl in a candy shop?

you swallow the little pride left in you and slowly open the door up a bit. you get a peek at the lines across his face, most likely due from stress, and the way his brown eyes find you. you can feel the thudding of your heart against its cavity.

“I believe you dropped these.” he extends the bag outward towards where you stand, you’re sandwiched in the little space you gave yourself. you extend your hand out, skin briefly touching before you pull away.

“I’m Toto, I don’t think we’ve properly met. and you are?”

his accent. it’s so unfamiliar to your ears. you never would’ve expected his voice to be as deep but light as it was. it was smooth like butter on toast to your ears, it made the hairs on your arm stand up, your back straighten.

“y/n.”

a sparkle shines in his eyes. it’s one you notice once you’ve said your name. he repeats it softly back to you in a question, like it’s not what he was expecting, and he likes it. he always pictured you with a unique name, or maybe one that was a bit basic, but yours fits you perfectly.

“well I better get going. it’s nice to meet you.” he waves you off before he slips into his own house and both of your doors slam in sync.

now that he had a name, there was no stopping your imagination.

—

mornings were the same. they always were.

freshly brewed coffee in front of you, as you watch Toto dance around his kitchen balance a smoothie, a laptop, and a muffin. the man was always busy once the sun shined through his blinds. you wonder if he ever truly gets sleep.

like usual, your mind shifts to him. does he drink coffee in the morning? how many of those white dress shirts does he own? what does his house smell like? does he make a good smoothie?

these questions, once again, couldn’t be drowned with a cup of caffeine, but when he glances over his shoulder and flashes you a wave, the questions silent themselves.

he’s handsome.

you knew this, your heart knew this, your mind knew this, and certainly your body knew this. the hum between your legs was never going to stop when he looked your way.

you lift your coffee cup into the air before taking a sip from the hot contents. it soothes your brains rambles down and puts the energy you need right back into you. the work day was just beginning, and Toto was just heading out the door.

what a shame, you wished he could’ve stayed. oh the things he missed when he’s gone.

—

the evenings are a bit lonely when the sun goes away and the stars crawl in, you watch the rest of Monaco get ready for lavish celebrations while you stick to a movie and a snack.

he’s just arrived home. you hear the rumble of his car in your quiet cul de sac. he kills the engine and before you know it there’s a knock at your front door. it’s rare, you never get visitors, unless for the elder neighbors begging to help you with your garden, but even then they knew to never knock and just help themselves. so this knock was awfully unusual.

unlocking the door to see Toto was a surprise. he stands there, brief case in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, with a goofy grin.

“I don’t really drink wine, did you want this?” he asks, extending the expensive bottle of red outward towards you. he’d noticed in your bag of toiletries the bottle of cheap red wine, and when he’d been gifted the rather expensive one from George for his birthday, he knew someone who might enjoy it more.

“you didn’t poison this, did you?” you take the bottle, and push open your door further to invite him inside.

“it was a gift from work, he would know better to not poison me.” he steps inside your house and allows you to close the door behind him. he gets a good look inside your place, the endless amount of candles, minimal paintings hung on the walls, and your infamous kitchen. the one he’s stolen many glances across at.

“and who is this he we should be blaming if we die?”

“George Russell.”

you chuckle at the name, “he sounds very posh.”

you quickly pull out two wine glasses while he begins to undo the cork; once opened, he pours the liquid into the glasses for the both of you.

“with the money he gets, darling he makes posh look silly.”

you feel the butterflies rumble around your stomach, a blush creep across your cheeks as you take the glass from his hands, skin once again touching for the briefest moment.

“and how much is he making exactly?” you ask leading him to your deck where two Adirondack chairs are placed looking out at the sky. you don’t tend to come out here often, as the chairs were a gift from a friend, but the stars were shining just bright enough to enjoy.

“six million euros.”

you spit out the wine in your mouth, luckily it landed back into the glass, but it wasn’t a very classy move to make. not around the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d moved in. this was the most he’d ever spoke to you, and at this rate, he might not again.

“he could buy Monaco.”

“I could buy Monaco.” he corrects you with a mischievous smile that makes your heart pick up, and your stomach do a back flip. he looks good like that.

“alright what are you mr. Forbes?”

he laughs. it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. it answers your own question, the laugh sounds like it comes from his heart and his belly. it’s a genuine emotion.

“well I have been on Forbes, but is money really a concern to you?”

you shake your head violently at the question. you lean closer to the edge of your seat, legs crossed to try and tune out the hum in between your thighs, “no, never.”

“but I must say, you have to make a lot to afford those vintage Mercedes Benz’s that you drive.” you add to your statement. watching him nod, he takes a look up at the stars, it gives you a chance to take in his side profile. the stress creases across his forehead, the smile lines around his mouth, the dimple in his cheek. every part of him is jaw dropping.

“you don’t come out here very often, why’s that?” he turns to you, it’s his turn to take in your beauty as you stare up into the stars. they were much brighter away from the city, you always liked that the most.

“I didn’t notice you watched me that closely.” you joke, a smile forming to your lips that reaches your eyes. he’s never seen you smile much, you’re usually grumpy in the morning or lost into your thoughts while drinking your morning coffee. he enjoys this much more than the toiletry run in where you both were a bit on the edge of anxiety.

“I’m not home very often. I try to get out when I can, and you should too. I grill, I know how much you enjoy looking at me.” he says, and hesitantly places a hand against yours. his palm is warm, but nothing like clammy, just the kind that heats up your skin in the middle of winter. the skin to skin contact ignites the flame in you to burn like a warning signal, one that he notices. this man did many things to your brain.

“I’ve never seen you in anything but this shirt.” you remove your hand from underneath his and reach over across your chair to the plastic buttons holding the dress shirt together.

your fingers carefully undo the second button, the top one had already been undone since he doesn’t like to wear it that neat anyway. you can feel his breath hitch, his heart beat is pounding against your knuckles that gently glide against his skin.

“do you wear this all the time?” you pull away, resting back against the chair and watch him fix himself.

“it’s work attire.” he finally breathes. you both can hear him exhale all the pent up emotions. he turns to you, fingers reaching towards your collarbone where the charm of your necklace sits. it’s his turn for payback.

“and who bought you this lovely charm?”

“my mother.” it comes out a bit snippy. his knuckles against your collarbone slip away and for a moment you curse yourself for being so hostile to such an inviting man. one you’ve wanted for so long to get to know.

“who taught you how to talk to your neighbors like that?”

“my father. he was an ass.”

he barks out a laugh taking the last sip of his wine. you don’t want this to be over, and you’re thankful it’s not when he offers to pour refills for you both.

you watch him walk inside your house leaving you alone with the beautiful stars of the sky and your tempting thoughts. having him this close wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t any good. you’d want him as much as he was making the efforts to show, and the buzz in between your legs was loud enough for him to hear. he wanted you too. but what would this do for your friendship? truthfully, nothing. Toto Wolff wasn’t a friend, just a neighbor who sometimes gets your mail instead of his. you could live looking across the window knowing he fucked you senseless.

what drama this cul de sac would have, and it seems they haven’t experienced this much since you two came around and played ding dong fuck every other night.

I guess you both took loving thy neighbor a little too seriously, but you’re sure Jesus wouldn’t mind the kind of love you were making.

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa

want to be apart of my taglist? let me know here!

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pleaseultraviolenceme

1 year ago

Favorite fics part. 3

13. Kimi Raikkonen:

Him using ice (smut)

Only the best for you (smut)

Reader gets injured (fluff)

Spoken admiration (fluff)

14. Marcus Armstrong:

Careful daughter (fluff)

Sidewalk rule (fluff)

15. Lewis Hamilton:

Please (smut)

Don't give me that look (smut)

16. Jenson Button:

No such thing as I can't (+SV) (smut)

Reader reading spicy books (smut)

Jenson is your boss (smut)

Something devoured (smut)

Innocent mind (smut)

Morning rush (suggestive)

Sugar daddy (fluff)

Be your wingman (fluff)

Ugly Christmas sweater (fluff)

17. Toto Wolff:

Something desired (smut)

Sleeping on his back (fluff)

18. Mark Webber:

Swimming (smut)

Christmas music (fluff)

19. Fernando Alonso

Something spoiled (smut)

Your pick (smut)

Reader getting jealous (suggestive)

20. Yuki Tsunoda:

God knows I'm tired (fluff)

21. Logan Sargeant:

954. (smut)

Summer in the 305 (fluff)

My one and only (fluff)

From the garage to the hotel (fluff)

Viva las Vegas (fluff)

22. Liam Lawson:

And they were roommates (smut)

Him teasing reader (smut)

The man with the hex (fluff, suggestive)

Tickle attack (fluff)

Reader playing with his hair (fluff)

Good, now sleep (fluff)

23. Clement Novalak:

Brother's best friend (suggestive)

24. Paul Aaron:

Only one bed (fluff)

25. Ollie Bearman:

Go back to bed (fluff)

26. Zak O'Sullivan:

Nuggets and shakes 9FLUFF0

Random:

Driver!Reader getting in a crash (fluff)

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pleaseultraviolenceme

5 months ago

something out of my dreams | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x dionysus!reader

request: could you possibly write a luke x daughter of dionysus please? maybe she’s like super nice and when percy gets to camp she becomes like an older sister and luke is super whipped for her? @elz-zalarrr

IN WHICH — all he knows is that you were something out of his dreams.

"trust him like a brother, yeah, you know i did one thing right. starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night" - t.s.

w.c. 1.8k

warning(s) : cheesiness ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note okay i've begun to realize that low-key i feel like i write in cursive if that makes sense? if a feeling could describe it i'd say its like using poetry to write? that's likely not any better lol :)

there was but one person that everyone could agree they adored at camp half blood.

it didn't matter what grudge who had with whom or what ancient rivalries transcended the ideals of reality, everyone loved you. not the typical type of brittle love that crumbled at the slightest of touches, but pure adoration that endured the sands of time.

you with the gentle soul, who healed others with each laugh and smile. when new half-godlings were brought to camp, you made sure to comfort them and make them understand that they belonged here and would find a home whether they wanted to or not. you made sure that no birthday was forgotten, no deed undone.

children of minor gods or elders, of Ares or Aphrodite, you became an older sister to all who needed you. you, the daughter of fertility and chaos, the god dionysius.

there was no debate that at camp half blood there was only a before you and an after you. you were like that high right before the free fall–invincibility and smoke and curiosity wrapped into the form of a demi-god. you were the gentle breeze during summer nights when the heat became too much. and none ached more to feel it than luke castellan, who had been burning for as long as he knew.

your relationship in itself was tentative, you danced around your feelings–scared one wrong touch or word would break the shaky, fine line that lay between you two. but you could not hide the way you loved the other to yourselves nor the children of the beings of divine blood.

luke castellan loved you like the stars would fall out of the sky with one harsh touch, free and incandescently self-destructive. like you were a wild, wonderful thing out of a fantasy.

you loved him like there was no hell or heaven but the cosmos that lay in his eyes and the worlds that lay in his soul. something so sacred and rare. a love so true and mortal it put all the greek tragedies to shame.

you knew that whatever you and him were made of, in every lifetime or the next you two were made for each other.

loving luke castellan would be both your redemption and destruction in the making, your elysium for whatever good thing you had done in your previous life.

✩ ‧₊˚

you first met percy jackson when he came to camp, he was a scared little thing who had just lost his mother when the veil between reality and deception flickered. everything he’d known came crumbling as quickly as the truth was uncovered: gods and monsters were real and played games of hell and heaven on earth. some thing about him called out to the vulnerability you once knew when you first came to camp so you made it your mission to be the sister he never had.

you met him at the front of the steps of the main office, “my name is y/n, percy jackson. welcome to camp halfblood.”

“do you just somehow know everyones name,” he raised his eyebrows at you.

“yes.” no, but you supposed it’d be fun to let him think that.

“of course you do.”

“come along, i’ll show the ins and outs here. if you're nice enough, i might let you in on the cook's secret stash of blue ice cream,” you laughed out.

he contemplated his choices before grabbing your outstretched hand and shaking it, “deal.”

you showed him who to avoid and the best people to befriend. the history between your kind and why the gods were as they were. the truth behind his bloodline and the legacy that he was now responsible for. the tribulations and the pain that was cursed to follow the children of the gods.

“and this is chris. the best person to ask if you need to know what plants are poisonous,” you say, introducing him to a guy with black hair and soft eyes.

percy looks at chris before looking around to see where the hermes boy is, “we’ve met. he was with luke when he was showing me around”

you’re cheeks heated at the mention of his name; looking around to see if you can spot the familiar tan skin and soft eyes that belong to your luke.

“oh! luke! yeah, he’s around here somewhere. he’s sly like that, wandering and then popping up the next second.”

a voice pipes up behind you suddenly, “y/n, already telling percy everything about me?”

you whirl around and there he stands in all his glory with the curls you love and the sun in his eyes. your golden boy.

“just telling him the truth, castellan. you’re hard to get a hold of sometimes.”

a hue of pink covers his cheeks, “i’m never far from you.”

both of you oblivious to percy and chris who seem to be conversing about you both and the tip-toe dance you play.

percy just wonders what’s happening here: firstly, luke is looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars and that’s saying something because he has shit observation skills–his analysis essays can attest to that. secondly, he swears he can see hearts in his eyes from where he’s standing and is that…is that a blush?

he turns to chris, who is just staring at the two like it's not out of the normal for what’s happening, “what’s happening here? is he blushing?”

chris just nods, “yeah. luke’s kinda–very obviously to everyone–in love with y/n. if i didn’t know better i’d say she’s gotten him insane in love. very likely as her dad’s the god of insanity.”

he turns back to the two who are laughing and standing closer than before, “like super, super in love. if there was a word for love, luke’s found it”

“huh.”

chris says it like it’s common knowledge like how the best food is blue jelly beans, “i mean i ship it, y/n’s the sweetest person around here–the type of person people write songs about. she’s like a sister to us older ones and a mother to the younger ones. the whole camp is waiting for him to just man up and ask y/n. they make each other happy, you know?”

“yeah, i think i do.”

percy thinks it’s something the poets would write about.

✩ ‧₊˚

fridays are capture the flag days.

you’re not the type of person to engage in these types of games all that often but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. someone’s got to show the percy boy how it’s played.

“okay, percy. remember, keep your senses open and make sure that no one gets close enough to engage. once they engage, it’s hard to fight them off.”

all around you two, people have begun to don their armor and raise arms. the sun has just reached its height and you’re huddled together discussing your gameplan. even though your cabin house is pretty small, you’ve joined athena and hermes for this game.

percy’s voice rises a little high as he tries swinging his sword around only to drop it, “yeah, okay. i’ll just try not to die, i guess. that’s not like hard or anything.”

“just follow my lead and if i’m not here find luke.”

you're not exactly excited about percy’s odds. the kid is lanky as is and his sassiness doesn’t help him out much when others target him for it.

that’s exactly why you’re gone to his rescue when he nearly gets hit in the face by a spear after he insulted one of the boys from house ares.

your heel nearly buckles under a sharp hit after you block the attack that’s directed to percy. you manage to reset your heel and push the sword off before you drop down into a crouch and sweep the legs of the warrior in front of you.

unfortunately you're slightly too focused on what’s in front of you and protecting percy you don’t realize that someones charging toward you from the side.

fortunately, a block from a familiar sword stops any attack that might meet you head on. no sooner do you hear the block that luke’s got the other guy on the floor and surrendering.

you grin at him, “i had that handled.”

giving you that grin that makes you feel like your future's right in front of you, he replies: “i’m sure you did. but why let you deal with him when i can save you the trouble.”

“why don’t you go and help annabeth win the games, romeo.”

he gives you a wink, throwing a quick ‘yes ma’am’ before he’s already running off again.

no sooner than later, a quick gong resounds throughout the camp, concluding the games. you’re standing slightly battered while percy walks behind you pointing out all the flowers he’s found. you definitely need to teach him how to defend himself.

the players are just trickling in for the woods they’ve been fighting in to reband together and in the distance you see a figure running toward you.

holding onto the flag, he continues to look at you like you’re everything he’s ever needed to breathe. he’s taken his helmet off and you can finally see him fully: brown eyes and all dimples.

“see you’ve found the flag.”

he takes a couple of steps closer to you until only two steps separate him and you, “yeah, someone told me to go win the game so I did just that for her”.

“really now?”

he whispers, “yeah.”

his eyes twinkle and you’ve never wanted anything more than to continue to stare at them.

you hope he’ll make the next move but luke castellan, the boy you’ve fallen for in every lifetime, is always content to admire you.

so, you take those two next steps, grab him by his neck, and press your lips to his.

he stands shocked for a minute, wondering if what’s happening is really happening. but no sooner, he’s dropped the flag on the grass and holds you like your the greatest treasure he’s ever had.

there’s a certain type of tragedy that your golden boy tastes like, fire and freedom all in this moment. it’s the price of redemption and damnation that you’re willing to pay.

to him, it’s the stars aligning like you’d will them to–the power you held and every thing he’s ever needed. your his past, future, and present: the threads in his life giving him the one thing he’s ever wanted. something he’s only ever dreamed of.

he pulls back slightly before murmuring, “in every lifetime or the next, i am yours. i don’t know what i did to deserve you. you’re something only out of my dreams, y/n.”

"you sap"

you just kiss him again, ignoring all the campers and those still trickling in.

✩ ‧₊˚

“definitely a child of dionysius. she’s reduced him to insanity,” pipes up percy as he tears off the petals of the flower he holds in his hand.

chris just grabs a flower and continues to rip the petals off like the boy beside him.

“damn straight!” shouts luke toward the two.

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pleaseultraviolenceme

1 year ago

jenson/reader/seb threesome/pairing would literally be everything is about reader 98% of the time (2% jenson unless we’re talking rbr!seb then nothing is about jenson it’s all reader and him). reader would be precious GOLD to them (i have many nsfw feelings about this too but idk if you wanna hear those)

YOU GUYS FEED ME SO MUCH 😩💖💖💖 LET ME HEAR THEM THOUGHTS,,, THIS IS A SAFE SPACE FOR SLUTTY ONES!!!

they're gentle and considerate, and all sorts of doting when it's outside of that whole.... dance. but they give very heavy overstim and filthy words vibe esp when you're warmed up to that whole concept/dynamic.

it's centered around you; you're the prize. and they're very... very competitive.

you'd be soaked with tears and.... 😩😩😩

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pleaseultraviolenceme

4 months ago

hi lovely, was wondering if you would be able to write any hotch x bombshell!reader ? maybe before they got together or any scenario/prompt you feel like!

take care of yourself and have a great day!!💝💝

The problem with Aaron Hotchner is that he’s too lovely for his own good. He might not think of himself that way. Not many, if any, of the office would agree. Morgan thinks Hotch is a hard-ass and Elle likes him in her way, but she rolls her eyes when he gets snippy, and Spencer… well, you think you and Spencer are probably on the same page.

Hotch is kind, and a good man, and if he looks handsome when he’s frustrated that’s just how nature intended it to be.

“Stop it.”

“No.”

“Stop.” Hotch levels you with a look over his computer. You’re surprised he knows how to use it, considering the semi-permanent callus on the pointer finger of his right hand. You must’ve watched him pen a thousand case files, consults and forms in a love letter to the old ways.

He types slowly, but you’ve decided to keep your comment about it to yourself. “You’re looking at me like you know something I don’t,” he says.

“Maybe I do.”

“I’m sure you do. Stop bragging.”

You lean on your elbow on the desk. He’s got a file open in front of him he’s transcribing for the sake of security. It details a case from a few months ago, and each line of the investigation is printed in Hotch’s neat script, lilting to the left over time. He frowns as he turns a page and realises it’s practically margin to margin with detail.

You want to offer to do it for him, but he’ll say no. You want to slide your foot up the leg of his slacks to see if he’ll blush as he did last Friday when you’d done the same thing, Gideon in the doorway none the wiser and somehow disapproving regardless.

And Hotch, he’d laughed like a kid when the door closed, not turned on in the slightest but endeared by the guts it took you to try. Then he’d sort of enticed you around the desk somehow —you don’t remember the before of it, only slinking to his side with your heels tumbled on their sides under the desk still, his palms wide and open as you settled on a wooden corner.

“I’m pretty good on the computer.”

“I know,” Hotch says. “I authorised your computing and communications technology seminar myself.”

“I was good at it before the mandatory company training garbage,” you say without heat, wondering how you might entice him over your side of the desk. Flirting aloud doesn’t work. Neither does footsie, and besides, what fun is that for you? But he’d looked at you in this strange way, none of his commanding sternness about him. A smile lingered on his lips; he can’t have known he was smiling at all, or it wouldn’t have shown. He’d left something honest there for you to see.

Maybe it’s in your best interest to let down your own walls for a minute, too.

“I could help,” you say. “Perhaps not from the same file, but I can get the laptop and start on the Maryland stuff. If you like.”

He looks at you steadily over the computer. His eyes seem lighter, the suspicious set to his mouth oddly close to smiling. “What do you want?” he teased quietly.

“Nothing. Just figured it would make your life easier.”

“When have you ever made my life easier?”

Your smile slips before you can stop it. Immediately, Hotch isn’t smiling either. The, “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” almost doesn’t reach you, over that sharp second of hurt.

“It’s fine.” You plaster on a smile again to save him the trouble. “I know you didn’t.”

“No, really. I didn’t mean that.”

“Hotch,” you say, thumbing over his name slowly, “I know. We were teasing.”

“Flirting,” he corrects.

Your smile is real, then. “Flirting?” you ask. “That’s rather forward. Flirting might imply we like one another enough to, oh, I don’t know, help each other with our overflowing workloads?”

He looks at you, all dark and him, steady, strong, all the stupid things that draw you in. You’re not just in it for his arms, however tightly corded they might seem when he’s pulling off his tie after a long day. “You do more than enough for me just sitting there,” he says, holding your gaze with a careful casualness that has your heart tripping in your chest. “Can you do that for me?”

“Do what? Just sit here looking pretty?”

His shoe touches your ankle. “Exactly,” he says quietly. “Just sit there exactly as you are. I promise I don’t need anything else from you.”

Warmed from the inside out, you sit back in your chair. Grinning like a fool. “Why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. Any chance at sounding casual is lost when your voice comes out gossamer thin.

He looks you over appraisingly. “See?” he says, turning back to his case file. “Thank you, honey. You’re a big help.”

You swing one leg over the other to get comfortable, crossing your arms over your stomach smugly. “I know.”

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pleaseultraviolenceme

1 month ago

dry humping with Jake Peralta x reader + slight somno vibes.

the soft sunlight filters in from the thin curtains in your apartment you sleepily stretch the best you can with Jake's arms pinning your hips close to his body. you wiggle to try and free yourself but you receive the opposite reaction of what you wanted. his grip tights as a soft sleepy whimper comes out of his mouth, the sound shoots right down to your core.

"Jake?"

"mm?" he huffs

"Jake" you shake him softly." I need you please. "

" mm. " you grind your hips down against him again and his grip loosens allowing you to sit up straight, the tip of his dick brushes your clit through his boxers drawing a lazy soft moan out of you you feel Jake's hips shift under you as you keep trying to make yourself cum.

" mm." he groans again to get your attention your eyes flutter open to peek down at him he's staring back with half lidded tired eyes "just put it in, Honey."

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pleaseultraviolenceme

1 year ago

accidentally referencing them as "my" with max please!

what are we doing here? - MV1

The only clear thing between you and Max is that neither of you knew what you were.

Friends? Very close friends? Situationship? Love each other but afraid to make a move?

So many ways to describe it, but still moving between blurred lines, where you snuck out of his hotel room before someone came knocking on the door to wake him up or brief him as he got ready to leave, going out with your friends to a bar where you'd start acting as close friends, but as alcohol started burning your throats and clouding your judgement, his arm found home around your shoulders and your head nuzzled on his neck, loving how he shivered and smiled whenever your lips curled up at something you said or left a quick kiss on his neck.

Everybody knew there was something going on, and no, your friends knew it wasn't just kissing and sneaking around, it was deeper, something that neither you nor Max were willing to accept and act on it.

Months went by and it didn't change. You were exclusive, the thought of looking at someone else didn't cross your mind, but the mere idea of Max sharing time and space with beautiful women from all around the world, it was mind boggling for you.

Unbeknownst to you, Max felt the same rush of blood to his head whenever someone in the paddock started a conversation with you, standing a little too close for his liking, knowing his male equals enough to be sure they wanted to have you to themselves, and he couldn't do anything to stop that.

Well, he could do one thing, but for him it wasn't even a possibility, not wanting to leave the small paradise you had created, with no problems, no labels, no feelings... he'd be damned if he vocalized that it was a problem not having you to himself every day with no excuse, just calling you by your name like he was any other man in your life, and if he expressed his feelings were beyond a simple friendship, he wanted it all.

And so did you, you wanted to walk hand in hand with Max and it being familiar, not getting surprised looks. you wanted for him to claim you just like he had claimed your heart and body. you craved for him to look for you after a race, holding his helmet and symbolically kissing his lips in front of every camera, every screen who was watching.

All those thoughts were wandering as the both of you were talking before the race, with his fireproofs hanging low on his waist and you trying to fix a loose strand of hair, not caring that it was futile since he'd be putting on his helmet in no time.

Then, a woman you had barely crossed paths with came along, giving Max a tight hug and wishing him good luck, telling him to not go too crazy on the track for the sake of her husband.

Huh.

"Oh, i have seen you so many times before and we haven't been introduced! Max what are you waiting for?" Geri Halliwell, beautiful and elegant as ever, asked Max who was caught off guard.

The words left Max's lips without a second thought, a worry, and it felt so natural: "This is (Y/N), she's my girl,"

My girl.

He didn't even flinch, placing his hand on your waist as Geri kept commenting you were such a good looking couple, complemented each other so well, that you must be so proud, and you really were, everyone could see it.

"I'll leave you both, but I'll find you sweetheart on the garage when the race starts and the boys go do their thing, okay?" Geri said to you, leaving you a bit dumbfounded but agreeing to what she said, leaving you and Max.

His hand didn't leave you waist, it only changed its position as you turned to face him.

"I'm your girl?" Your head tilted a bit, trying to read his expression.

His cheeks flushed and he was insecure for the first time, his blue eyes avoiding yours, but lovingly accepting when your hand found its place on his cheek. "I like it, how it sounds,"

In the middle of loud noises, screens full of statistics and people calling for Max, you took his hand in yours and left a chaste kiss on his lips before sending him off to get ready and get in the car.

For the first time, Max wanted the race to be over as soon as possible, adrenaline rushing but not because of the vibrations of the car and crowds cheering, but because of what was waiting for him after the finish line.

his girl.

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