#cams girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

georgiapeach30513 · 11 months

Text

I Can See You

Summary: Steve was new to this modern world. And trying to figure out the technology and all he wanted was home. Looking up 1940s women, he wasn’t prepared for what he sees. You. Feeding into his every fantasy, and then some. It becomes an obsession a need to see you everyday. To have you everyday. To keep you. Every. Day. In his bed. Just where you belong

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Cam Girl!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, online sex work, cam girl, masturbation, toy play, butt plug, squirting, licking, kidnapping, obsession, dark, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2K

Steve Rogers Masterlist

“You should date,” Steve turns to look towards Natasha, glowering at her. “What? Dating is normal. What do you have against dating?”

“Dating is different now than it was when…never mind you wouldn’t understand,” he goes to stand, but Natasha pulls at his arm, “What?”

“I get it. The women now aren’t like the women in the 1940s, but is that a bad thing? Look, Google is your friend. I’m sure there’s someone out there who believes in your weird standards for women. Guess what, Steve? Some even wear the clothes, too. Google is your friend.”

Google is your friend. A sentiment that was running through Steve’s mind the rest of the day. Google is a friend. Was a friend? How could a search engine be a friend? How could he find anything that was remotely close to the 1940s in modern times. How could he ever find someone that held his values, and how would he know?

Settling in at home, his eyes scan over the stupid phone. Who needed a phone that could do anything more than call people. But there was a Google on there. Women of today weren’t hideous creatures, but there was something in the ones that he had met. They weren’t…exactly what he was looking for. Too eager and leaving nothing to the imagination.

Google is your friend, but it was just a stupid machine. Nothing ever made sense in this time. People had taken something simple and made it nonsensically more difficult. And for what reason? But there the phone sits, and if Google was a friend, how could it help Steve?

What could a machine possibly do for Steve? How could it help his need to get out some frustrations? Things weren’t the same, and they definitely didn’t look the same. But he was told Google had archived photos. And videos…

Reaching quickly to the phone, but only because he was bored, and everyone needed to get off from time to time. His fingers search for the buttons he’s looking for before he hits search. Anticipating it would take much longer than the instant gratification of women upon women, and then a short clip. Legs that were covered in hosiery, and a quick squat of the woman. Her skirt flares up, exposing her bum to Steve.

He watches that clip way too many times before clicking on it. Taking him straight to your website. Pictures of you dressed in the most beautiful 1940s frocks, and posing with the prettiest smile and brightest red lips. Unfairly there are some photos with strategically placed blocks over your body. A button demands him to click it, and there’s even more photos.

Still these photos are annoyingly blocked out, but adding a credit card he would have access to remove them. Steve sets his phone down, taking a deep breath. His cock was pressing hard against his pants at just the tease of your body. He knew what he was going to get. You. Every part of you. Playing into his every fantasy while you whimpered his name.

Standing up, he awkwardly paces his living room. He wants to see it all. It was like you catered to just him. What could thirty dollars a month hurt. He would get to wake up to see you. Go to bed stroking his cock. It wouldn’t hurt. It wouldn't be a distraction. This is what he needed.

He doesn’t hesitate to put in his credit card information, and he hears the sound of your voice, “Welcome, Soldier,” why did that sound so sexy? Not even knowing what some of the buttons mean, he just wants to look at you. You are a dirty girl. Showing every part of yourself, and watching you ride a red dildo while your tits bounce around has him quaking where he sits.

A ping in the corner of his phone makes him lose focus, ‘Thanks for the payment. What would you like me to call you?’

He couldn’t let people know that America’s golden boy was watching fetish porn, and a very specific fetish of a 1940s housewife. ‘Captain.’

‘Hey, Captain, are you new around here?’

‘Yes. Brand new.’

‘Aww, for new subscribers I always give them a private video. What would you like to see, Captain? Whatever it is you want. For your eyes only.’

‘How often do I get private videos?’

‘First one is free.’

‘I want one every morning and evening.’

‘Oh, Captain, you are a naughty boy,’ Steve’s cock trembles at your words. He just wishes he could hear your voice. ‘I tell you what Captain, let me do the first one, and you can decide after if you want to continue our private little conversations. How does that sound, big boy?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Are you hard right now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you want to see my pussy? I can show you what toys I have.’

‘Okay,’ he takes a deep breath as his chat turns into a live video feed, and there your pretty face was. Giving him a quick wave before turning the camera to your treasure trove of toys.

“Which will it be, Captain? Can I turn your mic on so I can hear you? I get off to men with pretty sounds?” Responding with a yes, you turn on his mic, letting him look at every toy. They were all shapes, but one particularly caught his eyes.

“That one,” it wasn’t a genius to figure out which one he was talking about. The red white and blue one. With a name like Captain, he seemed to have a bit of a Captain America kink.

“I have something else that matches,” you sweetly tell him. Moving over to something Steve had early heard about. A pretty little butt plug with his shield on the end. “You want to see me stuffed fully, Captain?”

“I would like that,” his voice cracks, and you realize just how innocent he is to this brand of porn.

“Is it because you like sharing your dames?” Steve groans out yes as you position the phone on a tripod. “Who would you share me with?”

“A friend. He…he’d get your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You ask as you stuff the plug into your ass. You were sure he’d love seeing you ready for him. Coming back into frame, you place the dildo on the floor, and turn to look at him. “What would you like your doll to do, Captain?” Finger in your mouth, you playfully tease him.

He would love to take his time and watch you more carefully, but his cock is angry and in desperate need of release. “I want to see…see you…I want,” the sweet boy was struggling with what he wanted to view. Stuttering, and unable to vocalize exactly what it was he needed.

“You want me to slowly,” you undo each button carefully. Steve didn’t want slow. Steve wanted to fuck you. This would work for now. But…

“No. Not slow. Put…I want to see the shield.”

“Of course you do, Captain,” it was like the angels parted the clouds, and there was heaven right in your tits. Taking off your bra, you give your nipples a little pinch before walking over to the toy.

“Don’t wait,” he mutters as you move to your knees. He tries to pretend it's his cock you’re grabbing as you sink over the cock. It wasn’t the perfect view, but he sees that red, white, and blue cock split you open. A little glimpse of that shield in your ass.

Hands in front of you, you lean forward, and there it was. That shield in your ass. “Fuck yourself. And turn back to look at me,” peeking over your shoulder you give him a sly grin. Moving over the toy.

“I hear you, Captain. How good does my pussy feel?”

“So good,” he grunts out, pumping his fist around his cock. Why had he neglected to do this for so long. “My pussy.”

“Yes, Captain. This pussy is all yours.”

“Mine.”

“It’s so warm, and wet, and…how tight is your pussy?”

It’d be tighter once he had someone to stuff your ass. Get to watch you come over two cocks, while you beg for him to pet you. “Oh, Captain, you feel so good.”

He’d feel better if that was his actual cock. “Captain, you’re so deep.”

That cock was nothing to Steve’s size. He would make you have tears in your eyes as you took every bit of his length and girth. “Captain, I love the way you feel when you’re in my stomach. You’re so deep,” you give a smirk to the camera as your juices spill onto the floor.

“Oops,” giggling. The giggles. The mess. “I made such a mess for you, Captain. You got me so wet.”

“Yeah. Go harder. Make your Captain proud,” your ass cheeks recoil as you bounce fast. Stretched out so pretty, and still spurting your mess into the floor. He’d have to spank you for being such a sloppy little slut. Make you watch Bucky’s tongue lap up all your mess.

Your cream coats that dildo, and he knows you are capable of so much more. “Captain!”

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growls, choking on his cock. He was almost there. Could practically feel your walls clench around him.

“Captain!”

“I know. Be a good girl, and come,” you scream out as euphoria shoots down to your nether regions. Wishing that he could choke you in that moment. There weren't too many things you hadn’t experienced in this line of work. But there was this demanding quality to this Captain.

“Now, be good for Captain, and clean up your mess. With your tongue,” you want to scream. That is the hottest shit you have ever heard. Demanding that you clean up your own mess. “I’d have someone help you.”

“You want someone to come play with me?”

“Yeah, but they’ll leave. You have to let your Captain take care of you.”

“And Captain always takes the best care with his pussy, too.”

“Mine,” he lets the word roll off his tongue, while you licks up your arousal. His. All. His.

——

Opening up your apartment door, you stand at the entrance for far too long. There were roses on the table. A dozen roses from the looks of it. Steve was becoming steadily more needy. Wanting to monopolize your time so you couldn’t find new clients. It was fine at first, until he became too obsessive.

Playful possession had turned into something he in fact demanded. You look down the hallway of your complex, unsure if you wanted to go in. This was a job that was for extra money, and Steve had made it clear he demanded you and wanted you when he wanted it. And now the roses.

Of course those roses could be from anyone, but you knew they weren’t. They were in your fucking apartment. They were only from one person. Him. Captain. The hall was too quiet. Just as quiet as your home. It was like you were the only one in the room. In the building.

“Steve?” You ask, taking a step back into the hall. An unfamiliar smell is surrounding you. Clean. Fresh. It was him.

“Steve?” You tremble. Ready to bolt. Anywhere but here. You had to cut him off. The money wasn’t even that good. He had lost his mind.

“Steve?” Yelping when arms wrap around your waist, but his hand covers your mouth gently. Pressing his nose to your neck, he inhales deeply.

“Honey, I’m home. And I expect you to say my name properly. I can’t have you available to any other men. Your site has been taken down. Your apartment will be swept. All those toys trashed, because you have the real Captain now. It’ll be like you never existed. Your new life starts today. And I’ll make sure you are the perfect housewife for me. Bear my children, and live to serve me. Now, be a good girl, and thank your Captain for rescuing you.”

His hand is now wet from the tears that spill onto him, and you try and shake your head no. “Say, thank you, my Captain.”

“Thank you, my Captain,” you sound like a scared mouse. And he knows it. With one maniacal chuckle he starts dragging you down the hallway. No one will ever remember you. No one will ever rescue you. You are now his. And he has no intention of letting you go.

Now…thank him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @harrysthiccthighss

#i can see you #steve rogers #steve rogers x cam girl #steve rogers x cam girl!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fics #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans characters #marvel #dark!steve rogers

1K notes · View notes

show-your-fangs · 1 year

Note

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

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #show your fangs writes #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x female reader #sugar daddy!hotch #bau!reader #cam girl reader #I will see you all in hell where we'll be deranged together #show your fangs hotch blurbs #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #dom hotch #the secrets we keep #bunny and clyde

2K notes · View notes