Daddy Issues - Toto Wolff

MAKEUP SHOPPING WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant.

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando doesn’t really like to go shopping, but for you lando would do anything. and that’s exactly why he doesn’t argue when you take him by the hand and lead him inside a makeup store. he follows you around the store after you give him a little basket where you will put all the items you’ll need, and doesn’t say a word. but once you’re checking out, lando doesn’t let you pay. he gives his card and makes sure you have everything because he really doesn’t mind paying. at home, you shyly ask him if he would like to know what are all the things you bought for, and lando is more than happy to sit by the foot of the bed and watch you do an unboxing, explaining what are all the things you bought. lando is a simple man and if you’re happy, he’s happy.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

charles is always the one asking you if you need anything when you go out shopping together, it’s usually when he sees a makeup store because he knows how important it is to you. and also because he likes to watch you do your makeup and skincare routine when you’re not looking, so, he pays extra attention. charles insists and insists and doesn’t let it go until you admit you would like to buy that pretty blush you bought on your last trip that is running out or that you actually do need your moisturizer because you used all of it that morning. charles does that ‘i told you so’ face when you lead him inside the store, but willingly follows you, asking just the right questions. he also knows a little bit about skincare thanks to you, so he ends up buying a few things for himself too.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar, well, he follows you everywhere. if you ask him to take you dumpster-hunting at three o’clock in the morning, he wouldn’t hesitate, he wouldn’t even question you. that is why he doesn’t bat an eye when you ask him to go shopping with you. oscar knows it’s gonna be a long day, but he’s a patient man. a patient man who loves you very much. he even asks if he can pay for the things you have chosen but you decline his offer, thanking him with a chaste kiss on the lips, and he doesn’t argue with you but makes sure to remember the brand of the things you bought and what they are for, so he can buy them for you.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max would give you the world if he could. max is also always telling you to ask him when you need or want something, so he can buy it for you, but you never do. even if he tries to remind you that money is and never will be a problem; and sometimes it’s a little too much and you two end up arguing (it lasts for just a couple of minutes, really, before you are apologizing to each other and making out). so max can’t help but feel surprised and excited the first time you actually ask him for something. it’s just mascara and some foaming cream because you forgot your wallet at home, but max takes it as a win anyway. while you’re in the store, max sees a couple of the things you usually carry with you, like lipgloss and that thing that makes your eyelashes all curly and pretty, so he hides all that and a few things more and buys them without you noticing. when max gives you the bag at home you’re too stunned to speak or feel angry at him for spending all that much money, but he looks so proud of himself and has that spark in his eyes that makes you jump into his arms.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

you and alex have a monthly date to go shopping, together. it’s kinda silly, really, and it’s consists on buying random things like a video game alex saw one day or a couple of face masks for your movie night on friday night. so it’s not at all surprising for alex when he finds you in the makeup corner looking at some things he really doesn’t understand. you don’t notice him, too focused reading something, so he just sits on a chair nearby and looks at you moving around and taking things while leaving others. alex doesn’t know how long it takes for you to notice him but when you do, he just shrugs and tells you to keep going while taking out his phone to pass the time doing something.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

dani’s favorite hobby is spoiling you. he likes it a lot and enjoys it even more than anything on the week leading to your birthday. you two do everything you wanna do, he feels pretty lucky to be able to give you everything. if he needs to sit down and watch you walk out of the changing room with a dozen of different clothes, he will do it with a smile on his face. and daniel knows that one of your favorite activities is to go shopping for makeup and skincare products, he’s been a subject to your skincare routine more than one time, so he expects it every year. you two go hand in hand shopping for makeup, he gives you his opinion when you’re between two different lipsticks, even if he thinks they look the same and will both definitely look good on you.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

mick likes you. and so he likes everything that involves you. he’s always asking you about your favorite movies and what makes them your favorites. mick knows everything there is to know about taylor swift not because he likes her (i mean he does like her. after you introduced her to him) but because you’re crazy about the girl. mick knows your favorite makeup brand because he always watches you and it’s not afraid to ask what are the brushes for and why do you like that primer instead of the other one you have. you find it cute, how he looks at you with his big puppy eyes all interested in anything you have to say. when he goes shopping for makeup with you, you don’t even have to ask him to bring you the highlighter that is on the top shelf because he’s already giving you the exact brand you use and like so much, along with your favorite mascara and a pretty-shy smile.

★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)

logan doesn’t know a thing, like really nothing, about makeup or skincare. he just knows you have a bunch of that stuff and always look pretty, with or without makeup; logan really doesn’t mind as long as you feel comfortable with yourself. but he also doesn’t hesitate to go in the store with you when you suddenly remember you ran out of a few things. he lets you go to do your thing while he wanders around, reading the label of some things and not understanding a single thing. why are there so many different steps for a simple skincare routine? and so many different shades of blush. when you have everything you need, you go looking for logan only to find him in a deep conversation with a saleslady who’s explaining all about skincare to him.

requested by @golden-flora. . . I saw that you were taking blurb requests- thoughts on makeup shopping with the boys?

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

Good afternoon to Toto’s forearm

hihihihi! 🥹💕 i want to let you know that i adore your hotch fics! and i wanted to ask if you’d be ok—but no pressure!!!— to write one with bombshell!reader waking up from anesthesia and forgetting hotch and her are already together and starts flirting with him the way bombshell!reader absolutely would lol? thank you!

thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re sitting against a pillow with a yoghurt in your hand. You must’ve been on some sort of auto-pilot… Are you in a hospital gown?

You put your yoghurt down on the table that’s been wheeled over your lap and stare at the white-blue chequered gown creased between your thighs. Your head feels heavy. 

“You okay?” 

You drag your gaze to the source of the voice. 

Agent Hotchner sits in the chair next to your bed. He has one leg crossed over the other, but he notices your confusion and his nonchalance turns to concern. “You need help?” 

“With the yoghurt?” you ask. 

“Yeah, honey. I can help.” 

You roll that over in your mind. Stern Agent Hotchner just called you honey. 

You’ve been trying to convince him for a while that you’re someone worth being sweet to. Trying to sway him, because there are parts of him you can’t get out of your head when he’s not around. He has not yet been swayed. Honey is a hand held out you’re going to snatch. 

Hotch stands. He goes to pick up your yoghurt. 

“What, are you gonna spoon feed me?” you ask, a clumsy drawl to your voice.

“I was going to… but I don’t like your tone.” 

Is he flirting back? You must’ve hit your head. “Coward,” you murmur. Speaking of hitting your head, there’s a throbbing behind your eyes, and a dryness to your throat bordering on uncomfortable. The yoghurt was there for a reason, clearly, but you don’t have the energy in you to eat seductively. 

“My head hurts,” you say quietly. 

You close your eyes. 

“I know.” A hand touches your face. You stay very still, though your heart doesn’t. “You don’t feel too hot. Do you want a drink? I can get you anything.” 

“Your hand is so big…” 

“Not so much bigger than your own,” he says. 

“Prove it.” 

He says your name like he knows you well, which sets your racing heart off all over again. But, used to hiding from him, you open your eyes to watch him and wipe all surprise from your face. You raise your hand, and he raises his, and you press your fingers together. Your fingertips don’t reach his, his palm wider, warmer. You thread your fingers carefully into the gaps between his, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. 

Less satisfied when he closes his hand around yours. 

“You’re teasing me,” you say. 

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you lay back properly?” 

“Super, super forward.” You lay back under the pressure of his hand, stricken by the feeling that he’s done something like that before. You rest your head against your elevated pillows and have to give up —you can’t hide how surprised you are at his open touching, his face so close to yours you can see every warm fleck in his dark eyes. 

“You look startled,” he murmurs. 

“I think you’ve been bodysnatched.” 

“I have?” 

“Yes.” You nod. “I can’t keep up. And I’m usually pretty great at that.” 

“At what?” 

“Flirting.” 

“Oh,” he says, taking your hand again, pulling it toward his mouth, “you think I’m flirting?” 

“Is there something wrong with me?” 

“Not beyond the usual. You’re more lucid than they suspected you’d be, actually.” He kisses your knuckles. 

“I’ve hit my head.” 

“No, honey, you were under anaesthesia. Everything’s fine.” 

“You’ve hit your head.” 

He breathes out a laugh. “I don’t remember any injuries, but I’d love to know why you think so.” 

“You’re kissing me.” 

He pauses, lowering your hand. “Yes?” he says cautiously. 

“Would you want to do it again?” 

Hotch puts your hand on your chest. He cups your cheek in one hand, takes your shoulder into the other, and leans down to see you eye to eye. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks. You can feel the love he has for you in each word. 

Weirdly, you can feel it in yourself, too. Like, more than a crush. More than wanting him to spin you around or play with your thigh under a desk. You really love him. 

“I think I forgot you,” you say softly. 

“Amnesia is a very common symptom of anaesthesia, don’t worry.” He pulls your face up to peck you, quick but not without a gentleness that has your hands thrumming with pins and needle. “I thought you were acting strange, but I put it down to discomfort. Sorry, I imagine it’s very disconcerting to feel you don’t know me.” 

He just kissed you. “No, I know you, I just… I think I love you, but you don’t usually want me back.” 

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve always wanted you,” he says, his dulcet tenor another comfort entirely. “And I love you, whether you remember it or not. Should we try to finish your yoghurt?” 

“You really love me?” 

He turns your face to press a kiss into your eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 

“I do–” You begin before thinking about it, and realise that you’re telling the truth. You remember that he loves you. Agent Hotchner loves you. He’s in your hospital room handling you like thin glass.  

“Well, is there much else to remember?” 

You practically smirk at him. “I can think of some things.” 

“Wow!” He leans down for another kiss. “You’re awful,” he murmurs, his smile soft on your lips. 

gazing into each other’s eyes during sex when you make love instead of just hooking up for the first time (mick)

there's not enough mick so here we are 

Being friends with benefits with the boy you’ve been in love with since you were 13 wasn’t the best plan but there you were. You and Mick had grown up together, your mothers best friends since before Mick’s parents got married. 

You’ve had a crush on Mick since you were kids, his blonde hair and blue eyes staring at you from across the dining room table at all the family dinners. So now you're both in your 20s, you and Mick had become good friends, best friends basically. 

When he started travelling for F1, he brought you along with him so he wouldn’t be alone. Pent up frustration and anger from one bad race to the other and one thing led to the other, the two of you ended up in bed together. 

It was purely physically, or at least that’s what you told each other. Tonight, you and Mick had got out for dinner, as you do most nights. 

One flirty remark leads to a kiss which leads to someone’s shirt coming off then your pants and now you’re in bed with him. 

Your legs hooked on his hips, one of Mick’s hand above your head on the pillow. “God, you’re beautiful.” He mumbles against your lips before he kisses you. 

You smile, sucking in a breath when you feel him push deeper. “Mick-” “Shh, I know.” He breathes, his blue eyes meeting yours. 

For a minute, it feels real. You weren’t hooking up or friends with benefits, you were real; in love. 

His hips hit yours, the pace steady but his eyes still fixed on yours. Mick’s forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispers. 

You kiss him, hands cupping his cheeks. The whimper slipping past yours lips as he hits the spot he’d been looking for. “I love you.” you breathe, “I love you.” 

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

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

This maybe the daddy issues talking but my god who gave these assholes the right to look this fine 😭😭

My favorite blonde twinks 😋🥸

mark webber masterlist

all blurbs are listed from oldest to newest - oldest being on the top and newest on the bottom. // it’ll be updated as I post!

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Somethin about Mick pleasuring himself makes me go a bit feral. I mean imagine he’s punishing you for being a brat and sits opposite you stroking himself. Ye please 🙏🏻

wicked. you guys are wicked. dedicating this to @daydreamingleclerc cause this is right up her alley.

Your boyfriend was mean, beyond mean. This was cruel.

To be fair, you were the one that put yourself in this situation but Mick didn't have to take you seriously the time, he usually didn't. You had teased him all through dinner; low cut top, you were out with friends so he couldn't be touchy, a hand on his lap the entire night, sitting on his lap for photos and wiggling around to get comfortable but he knew you were just rilling him up.

"Mick," you groaned, pouting as you watched him.

"What?" He mumbles, not even bothering to look up at you. His hand wrapped around his cock, moving up and down slowly; the same way you'd do it.

He made you sit on the bed, watching him make himself feel good instead of letting you touch him. This was more torture for you than him, at least he was still getting some sort of pleasure.

"Oh poor thing," he coos, glancing over at you. You were sitting on your knees, eyes fixed on his hand moving up and down. "Can I touch you, please?" You asked sweetly, hoping he'd cave and say yes.

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"Yes." You answer a bit too eagerly for your liking.

Mick smiles- the way your eyes followed his every move, bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

"Fine. C'mere." He gives in, only because his hand is tired he tells himself. Not because he knows your hand feels way better than his. You're on your knees, looking up at him. His other hand grips your chin, "what do you say?"

"Thank you," you smiled sweetly at him.

"Good girl."

i’m actually personally offended by the lack of jenson smut on this website so…

maybe daddy jenson and you watching a movie together and hes getting handsy, but you keep swatting him away bc it’s your favorite movie… eventually he’s hand enough of you being a brat so he sits you down on his cock, telling you to pay attention to the movie since that’s what you wanted so badly,,

I'm nothing if not a sucker for men that were f1 drivers and are now dilfs. 

“Stop it,” you pushed your husband’s hand away from your thighs. Jenson pouts, his arm moving back to its previous position around your shoulders. 

The two of you had finally settled down for the evening, you took a shower and were watching your favourite movie when Jenson joined you on the couch. You had on his favourite outfit; just his shirt, and now he won’t stop trying to fuck you but you wanted to watch your movie. 

“Darling,” Jenson hums, leaning into your side before kissing down your neck. “You’ve seen this movie a million times, you can miss some of it.” He tells you, his other hand slipping down to your thigh, getting as far as pushing them apart before you swat his hand away for the millionth time since he sat down. 

Jenson leaves you be; meaning he didn’t say anything but his actions didn’t stop. His hands wandered and they were just as troublesome as the rest of him. He pulls you onto his lap and you let him but your attention was fixed on the screen. 

You settle back against his chest, letting his hands wander again. It didn’t get far before you push them away. 

Jenson groans, you can feel him shuffling behind you and push you forward on his lap for the moment. You ignore whatever it is he's doing behind you, at least you tried too but Jenson literally lifts you back to where he wants. 

And that spot you ask? 

“Jense!” You let out a breath when you feel yourself sink down onto him. “What are you-” “Watch your movie,” he tells you. 

Your brows pull together, “wha.. what ?” You say, confused. 

“You wanted to watch your movie, so watch.” Your husband answers, his fingers trailing up and down the inside of your thighs. 

It was definitely harder to pay attention now, his fingers distracting you as did his need to re-situate himself every few minutes. You had enough when he lifts his hips for the 6th time in 10 minutes. 

“Stop it,” you mumble, your hand gripping his that was on your thigh.

“Stop what, sweetheart?” 

Your head falls back onto his shoulder when he lifts his hips again. “Don’t do that,” you say, Jenson’s hand wandering to between your legs, two fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. “Fuck,” you breathe. 

“Need something ?” He asks; your husband was nothing if not cocky. 

“Jenson,” you call, your tone a warning in itself. 

He smiles, satisfied. He knows he had you exactly where he wants you. “Ask and I'll give you what you want, darling.” 

“Fuck me or I'll find someone else to do it.” 

Jenson hums, his arm wrapping around your torso as he moves you onto your hands and knees on the couch. “Even when I'm about to give you what you want, you’ve got an attitude.” 

You roll your eyes at his words, about to give him some snarky remark when he pulls you up by your hair, your back pressed to his chest. 

“I should fuck the attitude out of you, shouldn’t I?”