#daddy bunny if you will

[bunnyrafe]

rafe’s arms and hands… being in rafe’s arms… playing with rafe’s hands… having his fingers in your mouth… ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

specifically thinking about you two on vacation, lounging on the yacht whilst you’re all sleepy from the heat and taking several dips in the crystal clear waters. he’s got his strong arms wrapped around you, your warm skin sticking to his own as you press your back to his chest. your eyes drift over his biceps and forearms, watching how they tense up every few minutes. as if he’s always prepared for someone daring to pull your precious self away from him. no one would ever test him. thoroughly enjoying the bliss of his larger frame engulfing yours, and the way his long fingers rest on your tummy and just barely skim over the hem of your bikini bottoms— you yawn once, and hear him huff out a laugh before he presses a sweet kiss to your head. he can be so delicate when he wants to be. it makes your heart do little flips and swell with every ounce of love it has for him & him only. makes your hands grab at one of his, gently toying with his pretty fingers with a kind of fondness he thought he’d never be able to afford no matter how much money he has to his name. rafe’s quick to guide you, knowing what you need— he brings his hand to your face despite the grip you have on it, tips of his index and middle fingers tapping at your bottom lip until your mouth falls open and he can tuck them away past your lips. two fingers to keep you pacified and lull you into a nap, like a kitty in the warmest sunspot available.

“there ya go, baby… daddy’s got you.” he teases, but you’re fully gone & dizzy with how smitten you are for him.

[sparklejumpropequeen1949]

oh to be loved ..

[ggukslov]

Honey kiss 💋

୨୧ Pairing : bfjungkook x gfReader

୨୧ Genere : smut

୨୧ word count : 2k+

Warning : alcohol consumption, oral (f! receiving), eating out, jealous sex, handcuffs, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, penetrative sex, hickeys, (jk is jealous, protective and possessive af), pet names ( alot cuz I love them, hehe), spanking, aftercare, jk likes to be called daddy, soft jk in the end

Note : this is my first ever time writing smut and something here on Tumblr, I'm shy, and feeling uhm maybe a little shameful after writing this, though I hope you like it, and yes- English isn't my first language so bear if you see any grammatical mistakes. <33

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"Want another glass, honey?" Jungkook asks sipping on his wine.

You are lucky to have a boyfriend like him, always sweet and caring, but when angry, can easily take you to heaven. He's a sex god. No one can ever please you the way he does.

Out of this world.

"Sure" you nods your head, bringing your glass closer to him so he can pour you another glass of wine, so sweet of him to surprise you with candle light dinner when you got home after your hectic day at work. As he pours you another glass, you see his facial expressions change into a slight smirk.

You already had three glass and you started to feel tipsy, "You sure, you can handle another glass? Your face is already red." He caresses your cheek, pulls your chair closer to his. "Mhmm" you nods, reassuring him that you can handle another glass. He chuckles slightly at your short response, looking at you as you eat your pasta.

He gives the glass back to you and you sips on it. Gulping down more wine in your system you start to feel more tipsy. That's when you feel jungkook hand slipping under your dress as he caresses your thigh drawing small patterns. Waiting for your response as looking at your drunk state.

"Baby, do you want to say something?" He asks as if he can read your mind, still drawing small patterns on your thigh. You feel his hand started to get a little firm with each stroke. You finish your glass and put it on the table, so does jungkook. He finishes his pasta, waiting for you to finish yours too. Gliding his hand up and up. "Hmm?" He asks again.

"No kook." You says as you finish your pasta too. Your head started to feel lighter, the alcohol kicking in, jungkook hand firmly grabbing your thigh. "liar! I heard what happened today at your office." You feel him gritting his teeth slowly as he started to draw circles on your inner thigh.

You know what's coming for you.

You stay silent, waiting for him to say something as the heat between your legs starting to grow. "What happened? Why all silent now huh!? Would you like to tell me by yourself or should I do it for you?" He speaks, his voice sounding angry. "Jungkook. I- that wasn't my fault.  He was trying to get closer to me but believe me I push him away." You looks up at him, seeing his jaw clenching.

It wasn't your fault. You just went to your office terrace to get some air when you feel someone's coming towards you from behind, slowly snaking his hands on your waist. You turn around to meet taehyung. The man who has a crush on you. He tried to impress you so many times but today it was too much. You rejected him saying that you have a boyfriend and you don't need him to invade your privacy and want to have some distance with him.

"Yeah? Jimin sent me a video of you and him, on terrace. How dare he touched you like that! And why were you rejecting him that calmly? Why didn't you slap him, huh?" Jimin his best friend who works in the same company as you, sure jungkook tells him to keep an eye on you and to make sure that you are taking care of yourself.

"Jungkook, i rejected him. And how I'm able to slap someone at work?" You speak back, proving your point. "watch your mouth, that's not how you talk to your daddy, hm?" He says firmly. The alcohol making you lightheaded. You want to prove that you are innocent and it's isn't your fault at all.

You slightly removes his hand from your thigh. "It wasn't my fault at all, stop blaming me, and you told jimin to keep an eye on me, right? Don't you trust me?" You see his eyes getting dark with each of your word.

He put his hand back on your thigh, this time more firmly. "You know I don't like when someone else gets close to you, and yeah jimin is keeping an eye on you because I need to take care of you." You hears sincerety in his voice, he still looks jealous, he's is protective of you. He doesn't like when any other man looks at you inappropriately.

"And for the way how you speak to me, i should punish you." He stands up from the dining table and you look up at him, your vision slightly blurry of the alcohol. Your skin feeling hot. "Get on the couch, on all fours." He orders as he takes the dishes to the sink.

"But-"

"No buts." He cuts you off, you don't have another choice, besides you are also feeling kinda horny from all the teasing he did.

You walk to the couch, looking at him as he went into his bedroom.

You get on the couch, as he walks back into the living room, with a pair of handcuffs. "Get on all fours, right now." You obeys him and get on your fours, ass facing him. He bends down to your level and lock your hands with handcuffs.

"Now, be a good girl and do as daddy says, got it" you nods. He opens the zip of your dress, sliding down the dress and throwing it on the floor. Leaving you only in your panties.

You got a slap on your ass, which makes you squirm, the burning sensation stays there but he soon kisses the spot where he spanks you. Soon another spank came, makes you shudders. "Keep still." Another spank.

You buried your head into the cushion, the another spank came, and your knees gives up, jungkook helds your waist and kisses on the red handprint. "Good girl. You are doing good." You muffles in the pillow. His kisses sending shivers down your spine.

"Already wet for daddy, huh! Gonna treat you good, gonna mark you up so everyone can see who you belongs to."

Without any warning he slides one finger into your hole making you moan.

He keeps his finger still making you whine, you want some friction so you slightly grind on his finger. But he holds you in place. "Patience honey, did I tell you to ride my fingers, huh?" He slides another finger, stretching you.

"Please jungkook." You speaks lowly face still buried in the pillow as you want him to move. "Please what babe? Hm? Please what? Use your words, open that dirty mouth of yours and tell me what you want me to do." He isn't moving at all, his fingers still in your hole.

You had enough, it's all making you frustrated. You grind on his fingers once again just to get an another spank. "I said, use your words." He speaks firmly.

"P-please- move your fingers, please I want it." As soon as you beg him to give you some relief, he slowly moves his finger in and out of your glistened hole, making you arch your back, another hand grabbing your waist to make you stay still.

"See, it's easy when you use that mouth of yours, you just have to say, and I'll give you everything you want. But-" the pace increases, his hand moving harder, making you buried your head deep into the pillow, the pleasure is making you so good that you don't even know where are you. "Stay away from other men, you are mine, mine to please, mine to fuck, mine to use the way I want. You are mine, my little angel. Right? You are daddy's little good girl, huh?" The pace only increasing. With each word, getting harder and harder leaving you breathless.

You nods, feeling the knot in your stomach getting tighter with each pump.

"Say that you are mine. Speak louder." His thumb starts tracing your folds, taking you close to your climax.

"Mhm, I'm yours, only yours-" you feel more close to your climax, wanting to cum. "Yeh? Wanna cum?" His thumb rubs your clit. You nods. "Say please, say, use your magical words honey, and I'll let you."

"P-please- daddy- please let me cum, I'll be your good girl, please let me cum."

"Hm! Cum on my fingers, honey." And as he gives you permission, you come undone on his fingers, breathing heavily. He keeps his finger inside, you whine feeling overstimulated. Tries to push his hand away off you. "Uhh- plea-" he pops his fingers out of your hole. Cum dripping on your thigh, his hand coming to your mouth.

"Lick your sweet honey off. Clean my fingers." You obeys and suck on his fingers tasting yourself. "Good girl, you are so good for daddy." You lays on your stomach, he takes out his finger from your mouth and licks off your saliva.

"Already tired? I'm not done yet." Strokes your hair, "you look so good, laying for me like this, breathing heavily. Waiting for me to give you permission so that you can cum. So good, you are too good for me." He kisses your forehead, removes his shirt. You looks up at him lazily, all the alcohol making you thirsty for him.

As soon as his abs are on display, your mouth drools. "Please daddy, please remove these handcuffs, I wanna touch you so bad." You sits up.

He shakes his head, "remember, it's your punishment? You don't have permission to touch me yet." As he removes his pants, leaving himself in his boxers, your eyes went to his hard cock, so prominent, begging for attention.

"Please-"

"No." He gets on top of you, "just lay back down and let me punish you" you lay back on your back, looking at him. He gets on his knees, trailing kisses from your neck to down to your stomach until he stops at where the hem of your underwear is.

He looks in your eyes and smirk, slowly removing your soaked panties from your slick, throwing them on the floor as well. He kiss on your soft bud, and you moan grabbing his hair, eyes closed.

He gives a long lick to your soft bud making your grip tighter on his hairs, grabbing your waist with both hands, he slowly sucks on your clit making you clench on nothing. Licking you whole, his tongue gets in the contact of your sensitive entrance, "you smell so sweet, taste so good uhh-" he groaned, head between your legs as he sucks on yours entrance.

Before you can say anything, his tongue pokes your hole, as he eats you whole, doing his magic to your pussy, making you clench on his tongue, sucking, licking, eating.

You soon feel another wave of pleasure taking you close to your second climax, your hand in his hair tighten. But before you can cum, he removes his mouth from your hole, giving you a smirk, as you whine. "Want to cum again huh?" He removes his boxers, freeing his hard cock. Grabbing and pumping it one or two times, precum already dripping down, you nods desperately.

"Hm? Then-" spreading your legs wider, he pushes his cock inside you, making you moan loudly. "Oh jungkook-"

"Yes baby? Do you like this cock, liking how it taking you to the edge? Wanna cum on daddy's cock?" He thrust back and forth, deeper and harder. You moan loudly as he kisses on your neck, your sensitive breasts and collarbone, getting on your sensitive spot as he sucks hardly, making you shiver in pleasure. You nods again. "Mhm, please. I wanna cum-" the knot getting tighter again.

He fastens his pace as sucks on your neck, leaving dark red hickey on your neck. Whispers in your ear "yeah? Wait till I say so. Got it?" You whine, his pace only increasing, making you clench tight.

"Oh baby, you are tight, i preped you enough but you are still so tight, loving daddy's cock?" You nods desperately. "Yeah- so good. Please let me cum-"

"What did I say? You ain't allowed to cum, wait till I give you permission to cum." It's too much pleasure for you, you can't take it anymore. His animalistic pace only making difficult for you to not cum.

You can't hold it back anymore and you cum without his permission, getting another spank on your ass. "Brat!! I told you to hold it." His movements getting sloppier as he's chasing his own high. Your breathing getting heavier and heavier as you feel another climax.

You whine loudly. "Ah- st-stop, I can't-"

"You can, just 5 more minutes, i know you can, you are my baby, listen to what daddy's saying." He kisses you intensely to making you relax.

He grunts in your mouth as his movements getting sloppier and sloppier with each push, soon he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim, and you cum once again.

A tear fell down your cheeks, he breaks the kiss and kisses your cheek. "You did so good for daddy, so good. I'm proud of you." He kisses your forehead gently, laying on top of you. You whine feeling overstimulated. He chuckles and pulls out of you. His cum dripping on your thigh. "Look, how much mess you made" he gets back down and lick your dripping cum off you, you whine loudly trying to pushes his head, but he only licks you deeper, you grab his hair tightly and pushes his head, he chuckles.

"You taste so good, I just can't stay away." He kisses your forehead once again and grabs wet wipes from the table, cleaning himself and grabbing onto more to clean yourself. you squirm.

"Sorry baby, I'll be gentle, did I hurt you?" He now gently cleans. You shakes your head as you keeps your eyes close feelings sleepy.

Once he cleans you, he uncuffes you and kisses your wrist gently, "you are mine, and only mine, honey, I love you."

He carries you to the bedroom and covers you both in the blanket. Kisses your forehead once again as he snuggles up. "I love you too, jungkook" you mumbles. He chuckles and you both drift off to sleep.

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Don't steal, translate or copy.

This is my original work!

Let me know in the comments how was it, please, i urgently need your review it'll help me keep going

Follow for moree <3

(ps- thank you for all the love guys, I'm so happy that you are liking this, I'll post another one for you guys, pls look forward to it, thanks again peeps 🫶🏻✨ make sure to follow for more, ily)

[dollyswan]

Creds to @babydollcasket

[show-your-fangs]

I request very politely, you better continue the camgirl story with all the smut there is or I'm suing 😫 Some proper thigh action would be nice 🤭

there's no thigh riding in this one, but it will happen i promise my darling, i owe you and i will deliver.

The Contract | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

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

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

Words: 5.6k

CW: 18+, mdni, nsfw.

Tags/warnings: D/s relationship, master!hotch x sub!reader, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl, good girl), (semi public) mutual masturbation, cum play, aftercare (is important istfg).

a/n: this fucking series and i...holy shit i cannot get enough of it. it's all i think about every day, i just can't stop thinking about them. my apologies to moments, it has been dethroned in my heart.

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.

His lips were on you just as quickly as his hands. 

It was overwhelming, your legs practically going numb as he pulled you into his room, all you could think to do was desperately try to deepen the kiss. He didn’t hold back, he couldn’t hold back, even if he wanted to, and thankfully you didn’t want that either. 

You opened your mouth for him as his hands ran down your back to grab your ass, greedy, possessive, as if it had always belonged to him. He pulled you off the ground, maneuvering your legs to wrap around his waist. You obeyed without question, your legs holding onto him tightly as your arms hooked behind his neck. 

It was a fervor of tongues clashing, teeth grazing, hands digging into soft skin. His finger nails dug harshly into your plush ass, eliciting a squeal from your throat. He groaned into the kiss in response, swiftly walking back towards the king size bed in his room and slamming you down on it. 

You moaned into his mouth, the roughness only getting you going even more. He was sure he was living a dream, his heart beating so fast it was sure to explode. He pressed his body down over yours, enveloping you whole with his weight, keeping you trapped between him and the mattress.

It wasn’t that he thought you would escape, it was more that he didn’t even want to give you the option. You ground your hips into his crotch then, desperate hands trying to rip his shirt off his back. 

He pulled back from the kiss, making sure to bite down on your bottom lip and tug as far as he was able before you tensed under him. Only then did he let go, swiftly pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere in the dark room. 

You were panting hard, your ears were ringing, your chest and face were most definitely flushed crimson. You could feel him press his crotch into yours, hard, stiff, warm. So warm it almost made you melt into him. 

Your hands immediately traced over his back, fingers gliding over every muscle, every ride, every dimple. His own returned to your body just as hungrily, his fingers gently tracing down your chin, your neck, your arms, your sides, before they made their home on your hips, squeezing them experimentally to gauge your reaction.

You hummed, running your own arms down his chest to pull him closer to you once more. This was everything, it was too much, having your boss so close, so warm against your core, so desperate and needy for you, just like user1102, was making your head feel dizzy with pleasure.

“Please, Master,” you whined. “I need—”

Your stomach growled loudly then, reminding you that you were actually starving.

You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted out of your mouth and into his, his own lips curling into a soft smile as he pressed them to yours one final time before he detached himself completely from your body. 

You sat yourself up, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He turned on the light, the faint glow from the one at the entrance of his room not enough as he now needed the entire room to be bathed in it, to sober him up enough to be able to restrain himself from taking you right then and there. 

He turned to face you the second that it did, to fully take you in, to make sure that it hadn’t been a dream. You were still there, still panting softly, still looking at him with those round, expressive eyes he adored. 

“When did you figure it out?” you asked him softly, clearly eager to fill the overwhelming silence that had taken over the room. 

He walked over to the mini bar and poured a glass of water before he finally addressed you. 

“I started to suspect the day you hit your foot at the office.”

Your eyes widened immediately, your cheeks flushing in response as you remembered that you’d seen him that same night…privately. You fell back on the bed, hands covering your face in embarrassment. 

“No!” you whined. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You felt him walk back over to the bed and sit on the other side, far away and yet incredibly close. 

“I wasn’t sure,” he replied, gently nudging you to look at him. 

You took a short, steadying breath before you let your hands slip away from your face, eyes finally adjusting and making out the glass of water and sandwich he’d bought for himself in his hands. 

You smiled brightly, the prospect of Hotch, of your boss, of user1102 taking care of you, made your heart flutter. You got up to your knees, carefully taking the two items before you settled criss cross on the bed in front of him. 

“What about now?” you asked him in between gulps of water, remembering all the other times he’d watched you drink it diligently after a particularly demanding scene. “What do you want now that you know?”

He took the glass back from you and placed it on the bedside table once it was empty. “Good girl,” the words spilled out of his mouth out of habit and you immediately stilled, the heat in your lower belly slowly starting to build back up.

He noticed your reaction, subtle and yet it made him feel like the most powerful person in the world. 

“We shouldn’t,” he stated as a matter of fact. “Not right now.”

Your face immediately fell into a deep pout, almost unconsciously looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. He sighed deeply, looking down to break the spell you clearly had him under, his hands clutching onto the bed covers tightly. 

“The things I want to do to you, sweet girl,” his voice was strained, hoarse, heavy on his chest. You were practically buzzing with anticipation, one second away from allowing your judgement to lapse and leap across the bed into his arms. 

But you knew he was right. You knew you shouldn’t rush into this, as much as you trusted him, as much as you knew him, as much as he made your heart practically leap out of your chest with a simple glance.

You didn’t have a lot of time, your mind already racing with excuses to give Emily if you found her still awake when you got back to the room. 

“I want,” he started, voice calm, collected, clear. “I want to be your Dom, bunny.” He watched your reaction to his words like a hawk. Your entire body tensed, all the memories of your encounters over the past few months crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Only you weren’t drowning, but rather being filled with so much air it was overwhelming.

Your gaze met his, the rest of his face devoid of any emotion, and yet his brown eyes were overflowing with them. He was terrified, positively horror-stricken about how you may react, about losing not only your friendship but also the outlet of release he’d grown to depend on. 

But instead, you just beamed at him. You threw your things on the mattress before you shot back up to your knees and shuffled across the bed towards him. 

He let you, his heart going so fast he couldn’t feel his arms or legs. You sat yourself over his lap, arms wrapping around his neck again before your lips were on his. It was a soft kiss, so soft he almost thought it hadn’t happened. But then it did again, and again, and again, and again, and soon enough you were devouring him in the sweetest kisses he’d ever experienced.

His heart swelled, his hands shooting up to wrap around your back, pressing you tightly against him once more. “Is that a yes?”

“Enthusiastically,” you smiled before leaning back down to place another kiss on his now puffy lips. 

And just like that, he had everything.

You returned to your room soon after, sandwich in hand and dizzy with happiness. He’d asked you to text him when you made it back, a small test to gage just how enthusiastic you were about this, and you hadn’t disappointed him, going as far as to reassure him that you really, really, really wanted this.

Aaron couldn’t sleep that night, he couldn’t get his mind to stop racing, his heart to calm down, his excitement to dwindle enough for him to even close his eyes. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was more powerful than after he’d run a marathon, and he needed to channel it into something or else he was going to go crazy.

He thought about touching himself, about relieving the ache in his crotch, but he’d told you not to even think about touching yourself, wanting to frustrate you just enough until the two of you entered an official agreement. And so he didn’t do it either, it was only fair.

Instead he sat himself at the small desk that came with the room and he wrote. He wrote everything he could think of, everything he wanted to do to you, how he wanted to take you, how he wanted to take care of you, how he wanted to punish you, how he wanted to dominate you. 

He wrote until his alarm sounded and the sun started to fill the world outside in a faint warm glow. He wrote until Dave was knocking on his door to make sure he was alright. It was only then, when he’d finished writing everything, that he snapped back into reality, got himself ready for the day, and stepped out to meet the rest of the team. 

He’d made sure to keep you as far away from him the entire day, not trusting himself to not linger, to not lose focus, to not give himself a single reason to take you in the precinct bathroom. 

You had a suspect in custody by early afternoon, and he’d made sure to keep you in the precinct with Reid, where you were safe. He was sure you knew why he’d made the call, it was pretty obvious and would definitely be one of the things that the two of you had to discuss. 

But it didn’t matter, at least not right now. You didn’t even think to disobey, didn’t even think about the fact that he was definitely doing this because of everything that had happened the night before, didn’t even begin to let the new dynamic between the two of you settle. You’d been distracted all day, desperately trying to not allow your feelings for him to show. 

It was dark by the time you boarded the plane back to Quantico, everyone pretty much determined to get some rest before you made it back. The couch was the first to go, Morgan and Reid fighting over it like children until Morgan won out, immediately plopping down on it and turning his headphones on high. 

Rossi and Spencer took up the single seats facing the bathroom and kitchen while Emily and JJ took up a double seater, leaving you and Aaron at the head of the plane alone. You sat next to the window by yourself, as far away from JJ and Emily as you could just in case he had other plans than sleeping. 

It took everything in him to not sit down next to you right away, the action would’ve been too obvious with all the empty seats around. And so for the first twenty minutes of the flight, you sat alone, waiting, trying to distract yourself by looking out the window. 

He’d been staring at you relentlessly, impatiently waiting for the plane to stabilize in the air before thinking about approaching. He’d sat himself down at the perfect angle to watch you, his laptop light being the only one illuminating the otherwise pitch black plane. 

He’d been reading the contract again, making sure that whatever he’d written in his sleep deprived and incredibly horny state was actually coherent, and properly worded before sending it to you. 

Once he was sure everyone else was asleep, once he made sure that everything was worded as clearly as possible since there was no need for any twisted legal jargon, once he made sure that he was calm and collected enough, he hit send and watched as your phone lit up on the table beside you. 

Your attention was finally brought back to the room, your hand shakily picking up the device before you saw what he’d sent you. He’d been smart to send it to your encrypted chat instead of to your official email, but it didn’t make it any less daunting, the lines between you and Aaron, and bouncingbunny1 and user1102 officially blurring. 

You didn’t even dare glance in his direction, terrified of what it would do to you when you caught a glimpse of just how pent up he was. Instead you opened the file and began reading. 

To say he was thorough was an understatement. You knew Aaron never did things halfway, never did things without thinking them through, and he’d clearly been thinking about this for a while. 

He’d confessed early on in your private sessions that he’d never done anything like this before, never demanded complete control over someone in the way that he wanted over you. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, willing to put in the work and learn. 

You’d spent the entire first month just learning each other’s limits, him learning yours and discovering his own. By the second month he was more confident, eager to try things he’d found, determined to start having fun after setting up the foundation of trust between the two of you. 

You had been enthusiastic from the start, never actually having someone exert this amount of dominance over you before. Sure, you’d had a few partners who were rough and liked to sometimes use you in the way you truly craved, but it had never been like this. You’d never gotten to explore the lifestyle this fully, with rules and requirements and clauses in place to protect yourself and your partner.  

By the third month you’d gotten into a very comfortable routine with user1102, knew what to expect from your sessions, and it was through that knowledge that you somehow became even more excited to meet with him.

But there was just so much you could do, so much he could do to keep things interesting, to fill the ache in your chest, to fill the ache in your core. Your fingers had quickly become not enough so you’d started to use toys, and after a while even that wasn’t enough. You wanted him, needed him, craved him, in the flesh, to do the things he’d been making you do to yourself.

There had been a particularly tough case few weeks back that had you aching and desperate. You’d made it back home worked up, almost as badly as the first time you’d met him, and all you could think about was needing to be fucked so hard you forgot your name. 

You were so close to biting the bullet, so close to asking him to meet face to face, so close to begging for him to come use you. But you knew you shouldn’t, knew that no matter how much you trusted him, you’d never seen his face, didn’t even know his name, and that could’ve been disastrous. 

You didn’t realize you’d started rubbing your thighs together until you accidentally tapped your clit against the rough hem of your underwear. Your mouth was watering, your chest was practically heaving, your eyes clouded in lust as you read through the list of kinks that he had so thoroughly provided. 

It was long, from calmer ones like spanking to the rougher ones he’d told you he fantasized about like collars and leashes. He was so perfect, your kinks lining up so perfectly that it almost felt like he’d been made just for you…or maybe you’d been made just for him, for each other. 

You knew he was watching you from across the aisle, knew he was making sure to catch every reaction, every thought, every time your breath hitched. He needed to see it all, needed to know that you were consenting enthusiastically every step of the way, because even an ounce of hesitation and he would put a stop to it immediately.

bouncingbunny1: Master?

You bit down on your lip as you watched him pick up his phone, his attention off you and back on you virtually exhilarating. 

user1102: Yes, bunny?

bouncingbunny1: May I please please please please pretty please touch myself?

He fought the urge to slam his laptop and cross the aisle towards you. Instead he took a steadying breath, daring to look at you, your puppy eyes and disarming pout barely visible in the low light of your phone screen. 

But the little that he saw was enough to make him lose it, to finally realize that it didn’t matter just how much he wanted to be in control of you, you would always be in control of him first. Whatever you wanted, he would give to you, and the thought didn’t scare him, instead it only made him want you more. 

user1102: Go to the bathroom and wait for me in there.

He watched as you locked your phone, plunging you in darkness once more before you slid out of your seat and made your way to the back of the plane. He waited impatiently for a few minutes, the anticipation of what he was about to do, to make you do, to see, finally in the flesh, made his heart beat rise like bile up his throat.

He finally stood, slowly yet surely walking across the plane, carefully making sure that no one had woken up, that no one knew what was happening. He didn’t need the looks, didn’t need wandering eyes to put two and two together, wanted to keep this just between the two of you, the privacy you deserved to figure whatever this was out the most important thing in his mind. 

He stood in front of the unlocked bathroom for a second, steadying himself, getting out of his head and allowing him to slip into the role he’d been dreaming of playing for so long. 

The bathroom was barely big enough for two people, but he squeezed in there regardless, his back pressed to the door tightly so that he didn’t touch you. You were just as overwhelmed as he was, your chest rising and falling deeply, your eyes glossed over with desire, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt. 

He smirked to himself, the knowledge that you had gone to the bathroom before you left the precinct and changed into a skirt because you knew some version of this exact thing would happen almost enough to make him want to deny you of the pleasure. 

He wanted to keep this professional, like it had been every time he called. One last time for old time’s sake, one last time before you were both responsible about this and discussed everything that he’d just sent you, one last time before you signed your names on a piece of paper that made you his officially. Only then would he allow himself to touch you, to worship you, to give you everything you wanted. 

“On the counter,” he told you, eager to put some space between the two of you. 

He watched you like a hawk, starving eyes following every twitch, every breath, every movement diligently. Your brain processed his words and you stepped forward, jumping on the vanity and waiting patiently for his next command. It had been like this for a while, this understanding of each other, of receiving and accepting.

He moved to face you, so close to you, to your open legs, to where he desperately craved to be. And still far enough that you were starting to get desperate, needy, whiny with each second that his hands weren’t on you.

“Bunch your skirt around your waist,” he continued, his strong hand coming up to rest over his growing erection. 

You did as he said, eyes never leaving his. Your hands shook over your sheer tights, almost eagerly hooking under them and pulling them down your legs. But you stopped yourself, returning your hand back to its place against the sink to hold you up. 

“Good girl,” he praised, his hand squeezing himself through his pants. That’s when you caught onto his game, caught onto what he was going to ask you to do since that was exactly what you had asked after all. “You can take them off now.”

You’ve never taken off your tights faster. There was always an issue, always something they got hooked on or an area where they stuck to your skin. But tonight they slid off your legs without so much as a beat too late. You tossed them to the side hurriedly and were met with an amused chuckle from the man in front of you. 

But as much as he was trying to appear calm and collected, his hand had tightened his movements, his grip on himself clearly eager as well. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, clearly enjoying the sight, the sight that he’d never allowed you to see, the sight that you’ve been fantasizing about for months. 

“Go ahead, make yourself cum, bunny,” he groaned, back pressing against the wall farther to hold himself up. 

Your cheeks immediately flushed crimson, embarrassment washing over you in burning hot waves. It was silly, you knew that. You’d done that and so much more for him, because of him for months. He’s probably seen you in as many positions, with as many toys, cumming in just as many ways — and yet this is what got you. 

Make yourself cum. Make yourself cum while your boss watched you, make yourself cum while user1102 touches himself, make yourself cum while Aaron held your stare in his and completely shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you have built for the past year.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweet girl,” he cooed, his hand stilling its movements as an incentive for you to start yours.

You took one final steadying breath before you plunged, damning every self conscious thought you had into the darkest pits of your brain.

Your left hand slid down your stomach, teasing, making him pay for what he’s doing to you, as you pulled your legs up on the vanity, knees bent towards your chest.

His eyes glimmered in the light of the bathroom, his mouth slowly hanging open in anticipation, practically salivating for you. 

You pressed your back against the mirror as your fingers hooked into your panties, pulling the completely soaked material to the side, exposing your slick folds to him. You watched him eagerly as he took in a sharp breath, his eyes darting between yours and your heat. 

He was quick to reward you, his own hands unbuckling his belt unbearably slow. Two could play at this game, but neither of you had the patience for it right now. Your right hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds, gathering your wetness towards your clit. 

You moaned, just for him, just to remind him of what he should be doing as well, and he wasted no time sliding his zipper down and greedily pulling his cock out of his underwear. 

You forgot how to breathe for a second, your brain struggling to process what it was seeing. He was big, bigger than your fantasies had concocted, bigger than you ever though he could’ve been, bigger than you knew what to do with. He smirked at the attention, stepping forward to bring it back to his face. 

“Spit in my hand, bunny,” he extended his open palm to you and you could’ve sworn your head had exploded. 

It took you a second to decide what to do. Your right hand returned to your aching entrance, gathering as much of your arousal as you could before you slapped your slick covered fingers against his palm. 

He groaned loudly, so much so that it made your walls clench around nothing as even more leaked out of you. Before he could pull back, you brought his hand forward. You gathered as much saliva as you could in your mouth before leaning forward, eyes staring up at him filled with innocence, and you let the spit fall through your pursed lips onto his hand, mixing with the rest of your juices. 

“Oh bunny, you’re killing me,” he moaned, his now drenched hand wrapping around his cock swiftly. 

You smiled up at him, prideful, filthy, lustful, before your hand returned to its previous motions. You focused your energy on your clit now, slow and tight circles, matching the pace he subconsciously set. 

As much as Aaron had revered to watch you pleasure yourself through his screen, that had been nothing compared to the real deal, to having you displayed in front of him, to knowing that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted. 

“Finger yourself with your other hand,” he said through gritted teeth, the roughness of his hand around his sensitive tip almost pushing him over the edge. But he wasn’t done, he didn’t want to be, at least not yet.

You did as he wanted, making sure to open your legs wider so that he could watch as your fingers slid in and out of you. He moaned then, the sound practically vibrating in tandem with the airplane around you, making you almost feel him all around you.

He picked up his pace, strokes becoming more and more aggressive as he encouraged you to do the same. He was close, you could tell, and it swelled your chest with pride.

Usually you had to hear him closely, listen for those grunts that always let you know he was getting there. But seeing how his jaw tensed, how his breathing strained, how his hand squeezed harder around himself — you could not take it, your own tension building.

He knew that reaction well. He’d seen you wear it many times before. Your fingers were curling meticulously against your g-spot, your other ones picking up their pace over your clit while your thighs began to close together, seeking to relieve the tension. 

But what made it even sweeter was the way he could now see your desire plastered all over your face, like you were the easiest book he’d ever read.

You looked at him, pleading, a broken shell of the confident agent he’d gotten the chance to know, turned into the slut he knew you could be. He took another step forward, his erection unbelievably close to your entrance, one more step and his tip would be in you. 

You let out a gasp, your gaze frozen on the minuscule distance between your bodies. You wanted him to move forward, needed him to fill you up and relief the ache inside of you. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t and you knew it well.

Even then, in your desperation, you admired his determination to do things the right way. You both needed release, both craved it desperately, but he was not about to jeopardize your future relationship, one that needed to be built on of trust and communication and respect, for a quickie in the jet’s bathroom.

“Cum for me, bunny,” he told you, his voice gruff. You whimpered, allowing yourself to tune into the wave and ride it until it exploded within you. 

You moaned loudly, your fingers not letting up their movements as you rode out your orgasm. Your walls clenched around your fingers, a gush of wetness pouring out of you to coat them in your slick. 

His own strokes stilled for a moment, watching you come undone, savoring the fruits of his labor, waiting for you to come down from your high. It was only when your fingers slid out of you and you stilled your moments completely that he returned to his own. 

“Can I cum in your panties, sweet girl?” he asked, his words getting tangled up in the unholy sounds spilling out of him. 

You were hazy, your mind desperately trying to hold onto reality, onto your wits, onto the sound of his voice because you were terrified that if you didn’t, this would all disappear into thin air, back into the dream that you’d had for so long. 

“Yes,” you managed, your shaky hand lifting up the front of your panties so that he could spill his seed over you. 

His movements became erratic then, strokes became tugs, and just as quickly as it had began, it ended. He fully stepped into your personal space, his other hand wrapping around your thigh to keep you in place as he emptied himself into the wet cotton of your panties. 

Your slick mixed with his spend, hot and heavy on your skin, clearly meant to mark you as his. He moaned into your ear, low, unhinged, euphoric, and you couldn’t help but whimper in return. 

You were so far gone, so little and malleable, so much so that you knew that whatever he asked you to do then, you’d do it without question. Your head fell on the crook of his neck, labored breaths filling the room as he gently unhooked your fingers from your underwear to place it back to cover you. 

He couldn’t stop looking at the white substance seeping through your panties, the squishy and lewdly wetness against your skin making him excited to fill your pussy up until you were leaking him everywhere. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes. He knew he couldn’t keep you like that, couldn’t ask you to walk back out there and act as though nothing had happened, couldn’t risk you getting a rash because of his own ego. 

At some point he tucked himself back into his boxers, getting himself back to the pristine put together image that he always was. He waited until you’d calmed down a little more before he cupped your face with his hands, pulling you to look at him again. 

“Bunny, I’m going to get you all cleaned up, alright?” 

You nodded, eyes sleepily blinking shut longer and longer. He set you back against the mirror, grabbing one of the towels and wetting it before he gently ran it over your hands and the inside of your thighs. 

He set the towel to the side before he hooked his index fingers in your panties, pulling them down your legs before tossing them into the sink. He cleaned your pussy gently, making sure to get every last bit of the two of you off your delicate skin. 

Once he was done, he patted you dry with another towel, reaching over to where your tights had landed to pick them up. He got on his knees, a sight that had you perking up just enough to catch him staring up at you with so much adoration you honestly didn’t know what to do with it. 

It took everything in you not to melt right into his tough, to stay awake enough even though his warm finger riding up your legs was enough to lull you to sleep. It was only when he needed to hoist your tights over your ass that he picked you up, placing you back down on your shaky legs.

“Can you do me one last favor, sweet girl?” he whispered and you did your best to nod. “Can you pee for me? I don’t want you getting a UTI.”

You sighed deeply, being diligent not something you were looking forward to in that moment. But you nodded again, and he rewarded you with a soft kiss to your temple before he stepped outside of the bathroom to give you some privacy.

Once you were done, he walked you back to his seat on the plane, not caring if anyone saw because he knew that even if they did, they wouldn’t say anything at all. He made sure you were comfortable, wrapped in a blanket, buckled into the seat for safety, before he made his way back to the bathroom. 

He cleaned everything up, going through his own routine before he washed his hands, pocketed your still damp panties, and made sure nothing looked out of place. He then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before making his way back to you.

He sat beside you, his hand softly grazing your cheek to wake you up long enough to press the bottle on your lips, silently urging you to drink. 

You did without question, almost as if you’d done this all your life, the motion nothing more than routine, easy, normal. 

“Master?” you whispered sweetly after he deemed you’d drank enough. 

“Yes, bunny?”

“Can I have a kiss please?”

“Of course, sweet girl,” his nose tickled your own before his lips landed on yours, gentle, kind, perfect. You hummed against him, eyes closing for the final time before sleep overtook you. 

He smiled proudly, his heart so full, so content, so excited for what the future had in store for the first time in a very long time. He watched you sleep the rest of the flight, watched you curl further into him, watched you reciprocate all of the feelings that had been plaguing him since the night before.

You wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and that was all he needed to lay the self-sabotage to bed, to allow himself to drift off to sleep, even if it was just for a few minutes so that he could fully take you in, because all he really needed was you curled into his side like you belonged there all along.

fucking hell i am oN MY KNEES for this man. honestly what a fucking jOY it is to write them.

send me more requests for bunny and clyde!! i don't really have a series planned for them so i'm down to just write requested scenarios and play around with where their story goes.

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @xladyxdreamer, @gr3enflowers, @lilyviolets, @howabouticallyou, @shadowmemory, @simp4f1, @honeylovemoon, @powelvr25

[impromptu-sketches]

WE’VE BEEN BLESSED!!!!!! 。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。

[yourpersonaluser]

Such a naughty little girl you are, getting wet by perverts sending you rape threats and imagining yourself being a little house bunny for someone to use and fuck and give you the validation you want. Baby doll I could keep you up all day and night stuffing your pretty cunt with my cock and telling you every single thing I love and adore about you and have you moaning into my ear not being able to utter out a single word, I could have you tied down in a chair for hours at a time a vibrator on its highest setting strapped between your legs and watch your clit as it starts to twitch and you trying to move away from it out of overstimulation while I praise and hold you down “Baby you’re doing so well”, “hold still bunny or I’ll have to shove it against your clit harder”, “you’re being such a good girl for master” “you’re so gorgeous all wet and screaming I could hold you down forever” Every ounce of my attention focused on you, all of this and all you have to do is ask nicely and be a good lil bunny for me alright?

[sxibunny]

Determine how long I edge for ♡

Like = 1 min

Reblog = 5 min

Comment = 10 min

[bunnyrafe]

lazy day with rafey… and also how being rafe’s good little “house-girlfriend” and professional lap bunny are always interchangeable.

you’ve been laying in bed watching movies ‘n shows all day, even made a nice dinner together before settling in on the couch with some glasses of wine and a blunt. you're only in one of his tees and your most comfy panties, while he's wearing nothing but grey sweats 'n enjoying the way you're drooling over him. it seems your time on the couch is when all those sneaky touches and lingering kisses you two shared finally reach their boiling point—

because you're yanked into his lap so quickly. his big hands find their rightful spot on your hips, dragging you back and forth over his hard dick that's still tucked away in those stupid sweats. the blunt is still between his fingers, smoke curling around the two of you while the background noise coming from the television and your breathy moans fill the room.

you’re making a mess on the grey material and ruining your own panties too, unable to stop your hips from rocking as you chase after the high that’s on the tip of your tongue. your poor cunt throbs in your panties and you know this won’t be enough to make you cum but fuck— it feels too good to stop.

“rafey…” you whine against his lips, but instead of a sweet kiss you earn yourself a smack on your ass. the plushness there jiggles under the weight of his hand.

he brings the blunt up to his lips, taking a small puff before speaking lowly and locking eyes with you, “c’mon don’t fuck up now, you’ve been s’good all day… what’s my name, bunny?”

“daddy!” you hiccup the title out and fall forward, resting against rafe’s strong chest while he wraps an arm around you. he coos in your ear— it’s nothing but condescending, yet your cunt still flutters around nothing at the sound. you sniffle pathetically.

“there’s my girl.” he exhales, “let daddy finish smoking and he’s all yours— can bounce on my dick all night for being so good.”

[chinas-silenthill]

Is this good enough for you?

[show-your-fangs]

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

[horny-rose]

I want you stupidly, obsessively….so…,so in love with me, that you can’t focus on anything without thinking about me….

[alwayshinny]

Harry and Lily Luna✌🏼- Lily noticed that some of her classmates' parents bring their dogs with them when they drop their children off at school, so the next day she persuaded Harry to drop her off with her pet bunny, Pigsy.

[sxibunny]

That's that me espresso <3

[bunnyrafe]

thinking about rafe being on a business trip— of course he calls every day, checking in on his girl and making sure you’re doing okay. seeing if you need any money or anything sent to the house to get you through having to live without him.

he feels so bad, y’know? knows what a needy girl you are…

but that doesn’t stop you from being a brat when you pick up the phone only to hear some terrible news.

“another two days?” you nearly screech into the receiver, “this is so stupid, rafe! i’m over it— you need to come home.”

“what i need is for you to watch your mouth and be a good fuckin’ girl,” rafe snarls. you just know he’s pacing right now, with his strong hands probably just itching to grab onto your throat even with the distance currently between you two, “forgot your place since i’ve been gone? is that it? ‘cause i have no fuckin’ problem reminding you the second i get back.”

you’re left pouting but secretly biting back a giggle, as you’ve missed being able to get under his skin just a bit, “no— i— i swear i didn’t mean to make you mad, daddy… jus’ miss you.”

“whatever, kiddo.” god, he’s so mad at you. you hear him sigh through his nose, all hefty and stressed out. then his voice blares through your speaker again, “i’ll send some more money t’shut you up. get yourself something nice— i’ll be expecting some pictures… and don’t think for a second you’re off the hook.”

“okay, daddy.” you try to sound as solemn as possible... although you’re already planning out your shopping spree.

[be-my-ally]

The Seatbelt Sign is On

A Big Bunny Vignette.

Bunny wants to get tied up, so uh, here we are. Playboy!Reader x 76/77 Elvis - this little plot-less smutty fic is set between The Lisa-Marie & Crash Landing. Although I think it could be read as a standalone. This is pretty much totally unedited, so apologies for any typos.

warnings: 18+ 18+ 18+. Light bondage. No safewords or anything but it is clearly pretty ssc**. Oral, and penetrative sex (p in v), slight overstimulation. 

75-77 elvis x playboybunny!reader (established relationship - here's the link for the rest of the series)

wc: 4.2k (miss concise smut is back baby!!)

** ((Spoiler: Elvis does say he has scissors in case she needs to be cut out - but he’s pretty much just holding her down with some ribbon and a seatbelt.))

Elvis often climbed up the stairs with his last burst of energy post-show - happy to collapse and settle in or onto the nearest chair, sometimes not even making it to his bed, taking in the precious hours of rest before the next stop. It meant that even though you were spending a serious number of hours with Elvis, it didn’t leave a whole lot of time that he was lucid or awake enough to actually spend it with you. 

You’d worried it was you, to start with, but you’d heard the guys whispering about him lately. About his lack of interest in the girls he flew out to meet him, or the ones waiting back home for him. You’d watched Sam looking you up and down a little smugly in the middle of the conversation as if saying without a word that there was a lack of interest in you too. The rumours that he couldn’t get it up at the moment followed raucous retellings of salacious events from years before that you were sure were heavily embellished if they’d even happened at all.  But, despite what they would gossip about, you never would describe Elvis as lacking in some way, and certainly not out loud. Sure, he didn’t always (or even often) have the energy to be intimate with you but when he did he was as considerate and, usually, as fun as ever.

Sometimes though you couldn’t help but feel like it was just…a bit bland. You still blush when you think about those first few flights on Big Bunny, meeting him in next to nothing for that rehearsal. Nothing has really come close in a long time. He certainly wasn’t behaving in the same way, and you felt a little like maybe you had become too comfortable together, or like a married couple or something. A distinct lack of excitement together. 

The issue, you thought while brainstorming ways of keeping it interesting, was that despite how brash and forward Elvis could be, he ultimately became quite shy and almost too respectful towards you while you were alone. You knew enough about how his brain worked to know that part of the appeal of the opposite sex was, for him, the perceived softness and ability to at least perform an act of gentle innocence. He could be brazen and arrogant while ordering you to dance for him, to roll his latest dirty film acquisition, yet when he had you alone he’d be almost apologetic, gentle. You didn’t want him to be mean to you, but maybe a little less of the…desperation. If he could just take a little more control again. 

It was at the end of a run of shows, Elvis tired but with it, when the answer came to you. He’d been carefully kissing the inside of your thighs, where you lay, still fully dressed on the bed of the Lisa-Marie when you’d moved your hands onto his head in an attempt to impatiently guide him. He’d tutted at you, immediately pulling away from your fingertips trying to bury themselves into his longer hair. 

“No, no, no, keep your hands outta the way, baby, gotta let me work.” He returned, but a kiss to a sensitive crease sent your leg knocking into his shoulder. It’s been a while. You can feel his grin even as he pulls away again to look up his lashes at you. 

“I told you you gotta stay still, I need my hands for this, can’t be holdin’ you down.” You’re not sure the noise that came out of your mouth could be heard by anything but dogs but he laughs, shaking his head, “What m’I gonna do with you?” You wiggle a little, and there’s a clunk of metal hitting the floor. You both turn to look, and your wide eyes meet his calculating ones. 

“You can. You know, if you want.” He stares at the seatbelt now trailing on the floor for a moment longer before responding, turning bashful; 

“Uh, well, I don’t know. I wouldn’t wanna pin you - I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable… I was really only jokin-“ He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead. 

“El- it’s ok, really, I think I’d like it.” 

“I didn’t, uh, I didn’t - do girls, do ya, do ya, uh, really like that kinda thing?” 

“Uh-huh, I think so, or well, maybe not every girl, but I like the sound of it, all tied up and ready for you, just having to take whatever you wanted to give me? Doesn’t that sound good to you too?” While you were talking you could see him looking at the belt, gently stroking your wrist as he considered the proposition, he swallows. You can tell he likes the idea. 

“You’d… you just, you’d just let me know if you want out right?” You laugh at his nervous questioning; 

“Lord Elvis, what’s running through that mind of yours to do to me that I’d want out?” He shrugs, glancing at the clock. 

“Well, not today, baby, gotta be ready for the show in an hour, ‘m gonna, gonna freshen’ up.” And with a pat to your side, he headed to the bathroom, leaving you there.

You realised you might have made an error in judgement bringing it up just then, just when he’d started to get going now you were left with your panties twisted to one side, skirt hitched, alone on the bed with the plane seemingly whizzing past any prospect of an orgasm today. 

——————————————————————

“We’re uh, going to Denver, you know, for the uh, burgers.” You pull the headset from your ear, as if blinking at it was staring at him and he would offer you more explanations.

“Oh, yeah… sure, ok.”

“Well, don’t ya wanna come too?” He sounds offended at your noncommittal response, but you don’t really. Truthfully, you still didn’t quite feel like you were rested from the tour yet and you knew it was only a matter of days before you’d be up all hours of the night and day and running ragged after him again. But, he made that dejected sort of hopeful hum that made you cringe at the mere thought of not agreeing to his plans. 

“Of course I do - I’ll uh, I’ll be there just as soon as I can.” It’s silent on the other end, and then, 

“We’re leavin’ now, so hurry.” Of course he was. 

It didn’t occur to you until much later that he didn’t want to go to Denver at all, and definitely not for the burgers - you’d heard Joe ringing from the comfort of Elvis’ fancy car-phone to make sure someone, presumably a pretty Miss Colorado of some sort, was home. Assuring them down the line that Elvis couldn’t come to the phone right now, but if they made sure they were at the airport he’d be there in a few hours for a flying visit. Somehow, you were able to listen to this - your legs nudging his, and his nudging Joe’s, without the slightest jealousy - just a mild sympathy for this girl desperate for the crumbs he was willing to lay. It would be much later that you would realise Denver had nothing to do with this girl either, that it was all an excuse for you. You’d realised there was some kind of ulterior motive to a lesser extent though as soon as you were, quite frankly,  shoved into the bedroom as soon as you had boarded. 

“Elvis! I’ve got a job to do!” He shakes his head, grinning at you and standing in the way of the door, 

“Nu-uh baby, I been thinking about what you said last time.” You didn’t expect that. 

“Oh?” 

“Yes ma’am, and you’re right.” You really didn’t expect that, 

“Oh! Well I can’t say I’m surpr-” You yelp as he pinches your side, 

“‘Nough of that, on the bed! I got ‘quipment.” You pause your stride towards the bed, looking at him grinning with his hands on his hips, it was all a bit sudden.

“Um, I didn’t, I mean, I’m not su-” He grins at you, 

“I thought you were Miss Confident?” He gets that sly look on his face, his eyes narrowing and crinkling in their corners, “You know… I’ve been readin’ up and I don’t know if I oughta be worried, liking this kind of thing is listed in the DSM you know…” You gulp, your stomach twisting a little, feeling a flush rise up from your chest to your cheeks. 

“Jesus El - I’m not the one with equipment! I just like a little…I’m an adult, and I know what I like and I think it’s unfair of you to say that kind of thing, especially when I know what you’ve been up to, and you know Hugh -  Elvis stop laughing at me!” 

“You’d have thought I was secretly sending you off to the nuthouse baby, the way you were carrying on then,” He manages to get the words out past his giggles, “ ‘s just a bit of ribbon, honey-bunny.” You both feel the rumble of the engine starting up, “C’mon we’re on a time limit.” 

“Well, if you’re - if you’re sure…” You bite your lip in nerves. 

“Where’d my conf’dent l’il bunny go huh? C’mon baby, ‘s no worries - you’ll like it .” 

“Are you - you know what you’re doing?” His mouth gapes a little, wide-eyed. 

“Of course!” He looks genuinely offended, for a second before grinning, “I got good at knots in the army don’t you worry.” He winks at you as he salutes, his feet knocking together and you giggle, your tension relieving itself.

“I’d be more reassured if you’d been in the navy.” He swats at you, 

“ ‘M better than any of them boys playin’ out on their little boats I tell ya, now hush and let me work here.”  Your breath catches again, “don’t worry darlin’ I saw this in a uh, blue movie, don’t ya worry, I know how you like it.” 

That did little to calm your nerves - his reassurance that he knew what he was doing too often led to some kind of mild disaster. “Well, ok, but - you’ve got, you’re prepared, right? You got some scissors or, something, haven’t you? In case you hafta get me out quick?” 

Elvis puts the bag back onto the bed, holding three fingers up - but his solemn face belies the comedy of the action; “I swear, swear to you, I’ll get you out if you want to be. Not gonna let anythin’ happen to my best bunny.” You look into his eyes pausing for a moment and nod, lying back on the bed. He situates himself between your legs, bending to place a feather-light kiss on the corner of your mouth, 

“Aren’t you gonna…?” You shake your wrists at him and he huffs a laugh, his breath fanning over you, 

“Gotta get you worked up first baby, ain’t no fun if you’re not ready to wriggle and jiggle around, is it? Now, hush,” He whispers against your skin, “let me work my magic.” 

He might not have been focussing his energy through his ‘healing hands’ this time, but you couldn’t deny he did have the magic touch, he barely had to brush his fingers over you, press a thigh against your side, and you were gone from the world, levitating above the bed, above the plane, into the sky above. You’re embarrassingly quick to turn on, making out with Elvis enough to make you squirm. After a minute or so he presses kisses against your clavicle, open-mouthed while his fingers fumble with opening the buttons that stretch from your neck to your thighs, almost immediately shoving his hands around the waistband of your tights and he tugs hard enough that there’s the tell-tale ripping sound of the nylon falling apart - if you’d been more conscious of it you would have rolled your eyes, somehow you never seem to be able to keep a pair for long around Elvis. As it was you were far too distracted to care, relieved simply to be divested of the fabric and you lift your hips to let him roll them off - throwing the destroyed fabric to the corner of the room. His hand supports your back as you lean forward, pulling your arms out of your dress, immediately wrapping them around his neck once you were free. 

He’s all-encompassing, someone else might find him smothering, the way his arms seem to be everywhere all at once, caging you against him. But you can’t get enough. Your underwear ends up somewhere, god knows where. You’re reminded again of that revelatory first time when he’s biting nibbling kisses across your chest, tiny pink bruises sucked onto your soft skin, Elvis’ hands pawing at you in that somehow hot clumsy way. He tweaks a nipple and your back arches to meet him, you don’t know when your eyes closed but you open them at the sudden loss of any sensation, 

Elvis is sat back on his heels, assessing you, rubbing your thighs firmly. He nods with satisfaction at whatever he sees, reaching up the bed for the ribbon and tugging your wrists towards him. He kisses your pulse, and you wonder if he can feel how it jumps. He tuts when the ribbon twists, wrapping it around several times and looping it over and under before finishing it off with his best attempt at a bow. You make eye contact with each other, and you open your mouth to tease him about it, but he stops you with a pointed finger, his eyes alight. 

“Don’t say a word.” You swallow your words, playfully snapping at his finger instead, and he laughs, holding your newly tied wrists above your head as he leans down to kiss you again. It’s somehow dirtier this time, whether because you just feel that way, or because he doesn’t take his time, biting your lip and pushing his tongue into you; forcefully mapping out your mouth. He works his way down, sucking a small, darker bruise on the underside of your left breast, you wonder if it was intentionally close to your heart. You tremble, wriggling against him and after a moment he evidently grows tired of pinning your wrists, his long arms not able to keep them pressed flat while he works down your body and he looks for a way to secure them better. 

“Well, I guess we didn’t think this through, honey, it’s not the right kind of headboard, so I s’pose you’ll just hafta keep ‘em there.” He presses your newly tied wrists against the pillows, fingertips brushing the velvet of the headboard and your back arches with the effort of keeping them there. His breath tickles when he returns to his place, and the air over the sticky wetness of your inner thighs makes your arms involuntarily attempt to come back down to hold him in place. Elvis tuts at you, leaning back.

“’S no good. You’re wriggling around too much.” He stands up, his hands on his hips to assess your predicament. He sits back down and peers down the side of the bed. “C’mere.” He hauls your body up and you wriggle up with him until you were high enough up the bed that your back was now supported by one of the cream-golden reading cushions and he was able to pull the seatbelt across your stomach.“Keep your hands there.” He pats them at the top, and you grip the top of the headboard as best you can. “Where was I?” 

You’ve lost all ability to speak, simply too turned on to comprehend what’s going on. There’s the barest hint of sweat beading above his eyebrow and glistening on his dark, longer, sideburns. Your hands twitch to cup his face and you whine in frustration, unable to reach where he kneels between your legs, your fingers clutching the dusty top of the headboard, desperate not to ruin the game. He grins, tongue running over his teeth, and you thump your head back against the hard cushion, 

“Elvis, c’mon.”

“I’m havin’ fun now, baby,” He sing-songs it delicately and you shiver, “Gonna get you so worked up.” His thick hands grasp your thighs, fingertips digging in, “C’mon, bunny, open up for me.” You have no idea if the growl that comes from his mouth was intentional, or if it just had the unintended side effect of your legs immediately spreading, your breath hitching. He leans in and you feel yourself tense, hairs pricking with the tension of the moment, desperately anticipating his next move. 

Elvis is clearly not unaffected by the sight of you - his breathing much harder than before and it tickles as he gently kisses your inner thigh, his pouty lips open. The very tip of his tongue ghosts across your skin, and you shudder at the sensation, aching for him. 

“Elvis you’ve gotta - you’ve gotta touch me.” 

“I am touching you.” His fingertips continue to dance, and you try to squirm a little, the seatbelt trapping you in place. 

“Nooo. Properly.” He chuckles, 

“Properly” He teases with a shake of his head and you whine again, 

“Ssh, shhh, I’mma take real good care of you, bunny, just relax baby,” He firmly rubs at your thighs, as if he wasn’t the reason you were squirming. You let your head roll back again, suddenly distracted as he teases you by the sight of yourself in the mirror at the end of the room, the dark mahogany of the wood-covered room and the dim light reflecting off of the creamy ceiling putting you into a soft-glow focus. You can barely see yourself beyond him, he takes up the majority of your view, and though the concept is hot to you, fully clothed as he was, it left little to look at - just your twitching tied wrists, above both of your bodies, really visible. 

Finally he’s kissing across your bare skin and you’d forgotten somehow, impossibly, in the time since you’d last been together like this, just how good he was at this. You’re already so sensitive, you can feel the cooling dampness in the air, and yet it still comes as a surprise at his first kitten licks how responsive you were to him. He presses one hand against your thigh, fingers leaving bruises from his tight grip, holding you totally open to him. Elvis leans back a little, grinning at your attempts to grind on nothing, and you might be ashamed at such a wanton display in the morning but right now you just need the pressure back. He spreads your slick folds with his flattened tongue, moving his fingers in to keep you spread open so that he can lick up to your clit, sucking on the little nub and sending you shuddering. 

Your legs are the only part of you able to move, and you wrap them around his, now thicker, waist holding him against you until the movement of his talented tongue and fingers make them kick out. For some reason, even though he wasn’t doing anything new, being secured down like this was making everything feel ten times more - like someone had turned your sensitivity up on a dial. He tongue-fucks into you, and it’s so hard to keep your hands where they are, writhing around as you were, desperate to hold him in place - gain better purchase to grind against his clever, talented tongue.

The singular focus he dedicates to this task always reminds you of that first time and having him so committed only adds to your enjoyment. Elvis renews his efforts, suckling like he needs you for oxygen, and the warm wet pressure builds until finally, you’re shuddering over the edge of orgasm, legs spasming and your back arching as much as it was able to do so - and the tension of the seatbelt across your body - pinning you down far more than you would usually be held, has you electrified, adding to your startling passion. You pant, trembling as he leans back, it’s scandalous how he smiles at you, catching his breath, lips glistening with your slick and you try to form words to tell him how earth-shattering that vision is, but you struggle from the sheer anticipation of watching him stand up. 

“El- Honestl-El, how’d you, it’s so good. You need, I need you -“

You cut yourself off, panting, as Elvis finally, finally, slips out of his lounge pants and jacket.  His tanned hairy chest unveiled itself, a perfect trail leading down to his hard cock, its pink head poking out, glossy with his precum. You shudder, and he grins at you wildly for a moment, before seemingly focussing on the task at hand, clambering back atop you. He mutters the same thing he always mutters as he presses himself into you, 

“Y’re good, y’re a good girl, bunny, swear it - y’re so, fuck, so tight.” It probably shouldn’t make your chest glow so much. He presses a hand on your stomach, just below where the seatbelt pins you to the bed - holding you in place for him to get himself situated. The firm pressure is almost enough to tip you over the cliff again. You realise you’re babbling, muttering pleas when Elvis kisses your sweaty cheek, hushing you. He jerks his hips once, twice, in time with your gasps before he growls, evidently incapable of getting the angle right and you suddenly feel yourself being tugged down the bed, hands leaving the headboard and seatbelt scraping your skin until you were lying mainly flat, mostly immobile.

“That’s it, that’s - that’s better - that good for you Bunny?” He doesn’t give you time to respond, laughing to himself, “ ‘course it is. You’re like one of them kids toys, what’re they called, those, those, slip n’, slip n’ slides. So fucking wet down here.” You nod frantically in agreement, stuttering out that you were fine, it was all good - but please, Elvis, please, just move. 

It’s a strange sensation, being unable to use yourself to get leverage, and it feels almost objectifying. Lying there just to be used, but you liked it, and Elvis took advantage, pulling and tugging to exactly the pace and angle he needed to chase his own pleasure. You plant your feet, when you manage to get purchase, able to use your thighs to your advantage a little. You can feel the edge rising, but before you get there Elvis stills, his mouth agape, sweat beading at his forehead and eyebrow, upper lip aglow with it, and you feel him pulsing. His hand comes down to stroke between your folds, as he slowly pulls out, and you shake your head - it was almost too much, but he hushes you, 

“Shh. Wanna see you go again, it’s only fair - ’n’t that the reason I got you all tied up like this.” You tremble, and he presses his thumb against you, it’s filthy, the viscous mix of your fluids. Elvis deftly rubs your clit, and your body shakes through the waves of orgasm until you squirm away from his fingers, completely overstimulated, 

“El- El, that’s that’s enough, I can’t - fuck, that’s too much - too much,” He laughs at you, stroking you a final time as your legs twitch. You lie there panting for a long while, and Elvis gets up before you do, cutting the ribbon off of you, not bothering to deal with the knots that had tightened as you struggled, and heading to grab a drink from the little dressing table alcove at the end of the room while you caught your breath.

The ribbon had done pretty well at keeping your hands together, he’d done them up tight enough that they’d laid fairly flat and untwisted, but still, when you rubbed your wrists there was a light mark and the hint of soreness, especially around the outside edge of your forearm. You unbuckle yourself, sitting upright slowly.

Clearly, there’s a reason people don’t usually use seatbelts like this. The rough edge of the nylon had rubbed you where you’d wriggled around, the lines criss-crossing, while the heavy weight of the gold buckle had left indents - several of which you were sure were going to bruise. You didn’t mind that so much, pressing a finger into the darkest of the marks. 

“Good Lord Elvis, I look like I’ve been whipped or something!” He glances back at you in the mirror where you’re now fully upright, brushing your fingers over the pink marks. He points a finger at your reflection, 

“No chance in goddamn hell. Nope. There’s not enough space - don’t you go gettin’ any ideas now, li’l girl. Absolutely fuckin’ no.” 

---------

taglist: @lookingforrainbows @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny, @doll-elvis @18lkpeters @prompted-wordsmith @richardslady121 @meetmeatyourworst @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @a-literal-no-name @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel  @eliseinmemphis @iloveelvis @literally-just-elvis-fics @livelaughlove-talia @angelborn1 @amydarcimarie @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @i-r-i-n-a-a @saintomie @literally-just-elvis-fics @missmaywemeetagain @rainyday10-4 @chelsaiswerid @landlockedmermaid77 @mydarlingelvis @ooihcnoiwlerh @from-memphis-with-love