Well.....just In Case

THIS

By @eniidraws

TODAY IS THE ONLY DAY YOU CAN REBLOG THIS

Reblog if you remember this movie

Last Time I’ll Hold You

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Damon x Reader 

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: Angst, Character death, mentions of blood. LOTS of ouch. 

Author’s Note: Believe it or not this is the most requested sequel for any of my fics that I’ve posted. So I think it was time to give you guys Damon’s side of things. I’ve cried while writing this. I can imagine the pain the pain you’ll feel while reading this. This is the last angsty fic of 2021 and I personally feel like it’s the best way to end this on the angsty side of things. I hope you guys enjoy reading this and just get the tissues ready. 

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

This is the Sequel to Last Voice I want to Hear 

Damon had just returned home from dealing with the current trouble that was plaguing Mystic Falls. Another day and another problem was becoming a routine. While Damon and the others were still trying to figure out a plan, it made Damon glad that Y/N had gone to her parents to visit. Things in town weren’t to his liking and he needed her safe. As safe as keeping a vampire hunter can be at times.

Y/N wanted to stay in town and help him as she normally would. But her father calling and asking her to come home for a bit had pulled her away. Damon had taken some time to convince her to go. That there would always be more things for her to kill when she got back. With the promise of calling her if they needed her to come back home, Y/N had left.

And as he stood in the living room of the Salvatore house, he was beginning to miss her presence here. Sure they called and texted constantly while she was away. But the last few days without her had been different. She was far away and safe, but he missed having her within arms reach.

He had been sitting with a glass of bourbon in his hand as he sat in a chair in the living room. His mind was trying to come up with ways he could possibly deal with the new threat but his mind wandered to Y/N plenty of times in the middle of an idea.

When his phone rang, he pulled it out of his pocket quickly and looked at the screen. Seeing that it was Y/N a chuckle passed his lips. It was like she must have sensed he had been thinking about her. Or it was just a coincidence that left him rather amused.

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No word just read

Hey can do a poly!mikaelson imagine were the reader curses alot so Elijah bans her from swearing so when kol does something stupid she starts yell at him she accidentally swears please and thank you❤

Yes and yes

Warnings- fluff with Spiciness

You had a mouth of a sailor which wasn't a surprise to those who knew you as how your father raised you. Your father always wanted a boy but you became your father's pride and joy as he didn't raise you any different.

"Ouch! Fuck!" You shouted hitting your elbow on the door frame getting Elijah's attention seeing you rubbing your elbow.

"Baby."

"Sorry, Eli." You muttered knowing how he felt about your cussing as you tried not doing it so much. Then there was when you cut yourself by accident shouting son of a bitch also getting Elijah's attention. Your cussing hadn't really got cut back so Elijah took matters into his own hands quiet literally.

Elijah had banned you from swearing in hopes to cut you from swearing so much that was until Kol and you got into a bit of trouble. You glared down Kol from your spot in the Christmas tree as you used a latter to put lights on the 6'foot tree and Kol thought it would be funny to take the latter.

"Kol, I am warning you. Give back my latter."

"I am sorry darling but I misplaced it." Kol said smirking seeing you glare harder as he knew that you'll get him back. Kol was inching closer to leaving having spot Elijah as the older Mikaelson had told his siblings that he would be punishing you for cussing.

"KOL! You motherfucker! Get back here and get me down you asshole!" You yelled when Kol walked away smirking seeing Elijah in the doorway who heard you.

"Y/N." You heard Elijah's low smooth voice making a shiver run down your spine as you knew that tone....you were going to be punished. Elijah walked up to the tree looking up at you with a dark glint in his eye and now you wanted to stay in the tree.

"Elijah, I am sorry. Kol took the latter and..."

"Let go and I'll catch you. First you need punishment then I'll take care of Kol." Elijah said staring up at you as you swallowed doing as told. At night the others heard your cries of pleasure as Elijah dished out your punishment. Elijah pressed kisses on your bare back as you layed panting and felt Elijah clean you up and soothed your sore ass. You let put a whine when Elijah got you dress in comfortable clothes while kissing your skin.

"Hello love." Klaus said softly as you limp over to him climbing in to his lap for cuddles enjoying his body heat.

"Kol got me punished."

"I am sure he'll get his." Klaus said kissing your head as right on cue Kol let out a ylep from Elijah hitting him.

"Should I know why Elijah is threatening Kol with a dagger to finish decorating the tree?"

"Well Beka, Kol got me stuck in the tree yesterday and I got punished." You mumbled pouting against Klaus's neck feeling him laugh as Rebekah cooed kissing your head. You were showered with affection by Rebekah and Klaus as Elijah was getting Kol to finish the tree before joining you three.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Elijah asked leaning over kissing your head as you were cuddle up to Rebekah.

"Sleepy." You mumbled as Elijah smiled before sitting down in a chair as Kol flopped down next to you and Rebekah as you all relaxed enjoying the quiet and the soft glow of Christmas lights.

OBX P-LINKS

INCLUDES: John B. Routledge, JJ Maybank, Rafe Cameron, Pope Heyward, Topper Thornton, Sarah Cameron, Kiara Carrera, Cleo . (IF MORE WANTED COMMENT OR REQUEST)

WARNING: these are links that contain porn, sexual activities .. youve been warned .

——————— + ———————

+ JOHN B. ROUTLEDGE

Have you ever seen John B. so needy ?

Sucking John B. fat cock .

cute little giggle nd moans in the bedroom .

John B. fucks you on the floor .

- JJ MAYBANK

JJ fucks u roughly and loudly on his squeaky bed to piss off his dad .

JJ like to switch from you ass to your cunt .

JJ gives you backshots .

JJ first time fucking you raw had him moaning .

+ RAFE CAMERON

Rafe makes u bounce on his cock while he plays his ps5 .

Right after school Rafe breeds you .

Good sex with Rafe .

Rafe is always so rough .

- POPE HEYWARD

Pope room is full of slapping noises nd your moans .

Pope so needy when it comes to you sucking him off .

Blowjobs + Pope .

Rubbing against Pope .

+ TOPPER THORNTON

Topper fucks u at a steady pace .

Proving Topper wrong by riding him .

lazy day with topper .

Topper wants to cum inside .

- SARAH CAMERON

Sarah and you sharing John B. cock .

Scissoring with Sarah .

Sarah is so inpatient, she wants a taste of you rn .

Sarah call you over whenever shes home alone .

+ KIARA CARRERA

Kiara eating you out .

Kiara sliding on your clit .

kiara likes teasing you with her tongue .

Glazing Kiara’s clit with your juices .

- CLOE

Cloe fingers u before eating you out .

Cloe isnt shy when it coming to eating pussy .

Cloe licking your pretty pussy .

Cloe gets you high and fucks you good .

_________________________

this was a little rushed .. its a struggle finding lesbian links,, like actually ,.

A Double Take

A/N: For everyone waiting for Dark!Shangqi and Y/N Stark to meet. It’s here.

Okay. So this is in my Stark!ReaderVerse! Feedback, as awlays, extremely appreciated and desired. ​

TAG LIST: I do not.

Pairings/Characters: Shang-Chi x Stark!Reader/ Dark!Shang-Chi x Reader

Warnings: Flirting, talk about sex, fighting, violence

Summary: You decide to take a break, but trouble just always seems to find Y/N Stark with a special visit through the Multiverse.

WC: 2,756

You needed a break. Between learning that the Multiverse really existed, to Tony and Natasha coming back into your life, you were done. Well, maybe done wasn’t the right way to classify it.  But this was stressful, as was hiding all of these new, well, people in this world. They couldn’t be sent back, not yet. Strange was working on it. However, from what you knew, Natasha had nothing to even go back to. It was a world where she was the only one.

And your father? Well, he’d be going back to a world without you, where the grief and the stress took Pepper and their unborn daughter. Tony felt like he had nothing to go back to as well. They wanted to stay, that much was clear, and no one was quite sure how to deal with this.

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may I request an angst with evan buckley

"keep your eyes on me." promt with an established relationship please! but hes been through a lot give him his happy ending please, i love him so much 🫶🏻

Lightning Strike.

28. "Keep your eyes on me."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. my soft sweet buck. thank you for this request <3

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - sad buck. mentions of a sort of panic attack.

Word Count - 500 ish maybe??

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Buck is the king of putting on a brave face.

Always strong, never faltering. He reassures everyone he's fine time and time again, smiling and cracking jokes. But you see right through him.

You've always been able to read him like a book. You don't even have to try.

After the lightning strike, Buck doubled down on his brave face. He wouldn't let anyone see him upset - not even Eddie. Which is rare. And worrying.

He seems to be coping surprisingly well, desperate to get back to work and resume normal routine. While he's stuck at home, he's been cooking, doing puzzles, watching football. You're greeted with a lovingly cooked meal and a glass of wine every time you walk through the door.

Until today.

Today, you walk into the apartment, and it's dark. No lights on, no TV blaring sound. Nothing.

"Buck?"

Silence.

"Buck? Baby? I'm home," you call.

Now you're worried.

You start striding through the apartment, navigating your way through the darkness. When you hear a sniffle, your head whips around. There's Buck, knees pressed to his chest, jammed in between the nightstand and the wall. He's curled up on the ground, head resting on his arms that are protectively wrapped around his legs.

"Buck? Hey, did something happen?"

"Yeah," he murmurs hoarsely. "I got hit by lightning."

"I remember," you say gently. "Did something happen today?"

"I don't know," he whispers. "I think I've been distracting myself. And today it all came crashing down."

"Talk to me," you urge.

Buck's lip trembles, and so do his hands. Warm, salty tears drip down his face, and his breathing quickens rapidly.

"Hey, hey. Keep your eyes on me, Buck."

He locks his gaze onto yours, and mirrors your breathing carefully. Eventually, he calms down enough to speak.

"I died. I've been so close to death so many times that I'm kinda numb to it. But this time was so real. How am I supposed to go on living my life like nothing happened, when I literally died?"

"You don't have to live like nothing happened, baby," you reassure, moving to sit down in front of him. "No one expects you to do that."

"I just -," he sighs, trying to formulate a coherent thought. "I just don't know how to carry on."

You reach out gently and place a hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears that are spilling over. Your thumb strokes his cheekbone carefully, grounding him back down to Earth.

"I know you're like, totally anti therapy -," you begin, and he laughs. "But talking to a therapist or a trauma counsellor might really help. Or maybe we find a support group. This is LA, there's groups for everything."

"You think there's a lightning strike support group?" he jokes.

"I honestly wouldn't be surprised," you chuckle. "And if there isn't? Well, we'll start one."

"I might be the only person who attends."

"Fine by me," you tease, nudging him lovingly.

You stand up, and offer him a hand. He takes it gratefully, getting up and instantly wrapping his arms around you. He inhales the scent of your vanilla shampoo, and the tension leaves his shoulders rapidly.

"I love you," he murmurs into your hair. "I'm so lucky."

"I'm the lucky one," you reassure. "Well, technically you are, since you got hit by lightning. And survived."

"I've always been one in a million," he chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter.

"Yes, you have. My one in a million, Evan Buckley."

Please go read this series it is so good

Am I Dreaming - Chapter Twelve

Introduction, Chapter One , Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven

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JUST READ soo good 🥵😝😁❤

What’s your safe word, honey?

Summary: Hotch x Fem!Reader. Hotch comes home from a tough case and takes his anger out on you in the best kind of way.

Warnings: Language, smut—rough sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, mention of gunshot injury to arm. WC—+3.5K

A/N: Hi I’m a slut for Hotch and this is the evidence in the case against me 😂

You were going insane; one entire month off of work and you were over being cooped up in the house. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate time off. But because you were currently recovering from an injury in the field it meant you couldn’t make the best of your free time. You were stuck inside, forced to rest and recover. After the first week, you were bored out of your mind.

At least you’d had Jack, your adopted son, to keep you company when he wasn’t in school. You were even able to take him to the bus each morning, a job normally reserved for his Aunt Jessica, because the stop was in front of the house two doors down. Aaron had been reluctant, seeing as you had to climb a whole three steps to get back inside the townhouse the three of you lived together in, but he relented when you reminded him that your concussion and healing gunshot would to your left arm didn’t prevent you from being able to walk.

But this week, Jack was away on a school trip and you were left on your own. You’d hoped to have some time with Aaron, but he’d been called away on a case in New York, and like you knew all too well, the bigger the city, the longer the case. You just had to get through this last week; your injuries had healed and your physical therapy sessions for your arm were going great. You would be back in the field soon enough, although your boss—and husband—had insisted on two weeks of desk work and case consultation before he would allow you to strap on your gun again.

When you had been shot, it had been your own fault. You knew this—the victim, just a kid, had been scared out of his mind, and you tried to talk him down, were so focused on him that you didn’t notice the unsub hiding around the corner, didn’t even see him raise the gun. The only reason the bullet didn’t go through your skull was that Prentiss screamed at you at the same moment she shot the unsub. You fell as the bullet went through your arm and smacked your head off of the desk behind, hard enough to send you to the hospital unconscious. Hotch met you, with the rest of the team just behind him. After you woke up and his concern was eased by the doctor, he had told you that he was benching you.

You hadn’t argued, not after seeing the fear on his face, the way his hand had trembled when he stroked your cheek as you lay in the hospital bed. But you knew all too well that the longer you were off, the grouchier Aaron would get at work. Even Emily had texted you begging you to send him nudes just to get him to lighten up on this latest case.

You sent a few sexy shots two days before, and Aaron hadn’t responded. You spoke on the phone, but he didn’t bring them up, and you wondered if he was annoyed. But where Aaron Hotchner was severe and stern and reserved, you were bubbly and easy-going. You balanced one another perfectly, something that had been evident the minute you’d joined the BAU several years before.

The chemistry was there from the start as well, but it didn’t evolve beyond friendship until, after a particularly rough case, Hotch had decided to drive the seven hours back to Quantico instead of fly. He’d had an injured eardrum at the time and the flying, loud noises, it was too much for him. You had asked if you could join him in a spur-of-the-moment decision, and ended up having the best time together.

You had agreed to split the drive into two days, opting to stay one night in a nice hotel, stretch out the trip a little to get some rest. The plan was for you to drive the remaining three hours home the next day, with a few stops along the way to sightsee. You booked separate rooms after enjoying dinner together at the hotel restaurant, and bid one another goodnight in a friendly manner. After soaking in the bath for an hour in your room, you had thrown your robe on and debated walking across the hall to thank Hotch for letting you join him, unsure of if he would already be asleep.

It had been like a movie scene when you had opened the door to your room, still unsure if you would knock on his, and found him standing right there, clearly debating something similar. Only, where you were wearing just the hotel robe, Hotch was in a casual t-shirt and shorts and you couldn’t help but check him out, admire the muscles you rarely glimpsed beneath those suits.

You had looked at one another for roughly thirty seconds before, and you’ll never know for sure who moved first, you were wrapped around each other. You had stayed up pretty late that night.

You were dozing on the couch, a habit you’d formed during this work hiatus and you really needed to kick it. You had always been able to sleep just about anywhere, but your king bed upstairs was calling your name and you knew sleeping on the couch wasn’t the best for your back. But sleeping in that big bed all alone bummed you out, so you usually stayed up late watching crime movies on Netflix until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

When you heard the beep of the front door, the electric lock sliding, your eyes opened and you realized you’d been out like a light and your movie had long since ended. You blearily glanced toward the front hall, frowning. You didn’t think Aaron was coming home yet, but when his familiar, tall frame stepped in to view your heart leapt happily in your chest. He must not have bothered calling since it was so late.

Before you could get his attention, as he hadn’t realized you were curled up under blankets on the couch, you saw that he appeared to be in one of his moods. Almost instantly, heat pooled in your stomach—while most people, sane people, avoided the hell out of an angry Aaron Hotchner, you were drawn to him. You liked being the only one who could calm him, and you loved when he took his anger out on you.

As you gazed at him now, he roughly pulled off his jacket, then started working at his tie, his movements choppy. The classic frown was in place, and while he was making no noise, thinking you must be upstairs asleep in bed, you saw that his breathing was uneven. So the case had not ended well, clearly. You knew what he was feeling, it was something that the entire team would experience when a case went south, and you immediately ached to comfort him.

When his tie was hung on the hook on the wall, he moved slowly towards the staircase, still not noticing you. With a small sigh, you sat up and Aaron’s head spun comically in your direction, eyes widening in surprise.

“Honey, what are you doing sleeping on the couch? Are you alright?”

Frowning Hotch morphed into Protective Hotch, his eyes searching your face with concern even as you smiled sleepily at your husband. “I’m perfect, now that you’re here. I just fell asleep watching a movie,” You pushed at the tangle of blankets around you, “I wasn’t expecting you, I’m so happy you’re home!”

Hotch’s expression softened, but then his eyes dropped as you freed yourself from the blankets and revealed yourself wearing only one of his old t-shirts. You saw his entire body go rigid, his expression turning dark, and that heat inside you fluttered in response. You shifted, drawing your legs up and stretching your arms so that the shirt rode up and you heard him gasp as he saw you wore no panties. “Christ,” He murmured, moving across the room with intent, “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” He growled, and you grinned at him.

You didn’t get a chance to respond, his large hand securing around your throat, his eyes dark with hunger. He gripped you gently, and you felt the slick between your thighs nearly gush in response. Hotch reached down and ran a free hand over the core of you, grunting in approval.

“So wet for me, good girl,” He released his hold on you to draw the shirt over your head, tossing it aside and sighing in approval as he surveyed your naked curves. “What’s your safe word, honey?”

Every time, he asked you this and his eyes would search yours, ensure that you were on board and ready for him. You only smiled wider, trying not to rub your thighs together too much for friction you were desperate for. “Pineapple.”

The tension in his body snapped, and before you could do more than moan, Hotch was sealing his lips over yours possessively. You loved this side of him, though you didn’t get to see it until a few months together—he was always sweet and gentle, he made love to you, ensured that you came at least twice. But eventually, you’d had enough of being treated like a glass figurine, and encouraged him to experiment with you.

It turned out, Aaron Hotchner was a man with a love for dirty sex. And you fucking loved it.

“Missed you,” You breathed out when he finally pulled back from kissing you, and he grinned wickedly in response before turning you and pushing you down so that you were bent over the comfortable arm of the couch, ass facing him. With greedy hands, he touched every part of you that he could reach, ignoring the throbbing heat between your thighs. You were a whimpering mess within minutes, but you couldn’t beg him for more. If you did, he would draw it out longer—and from the way he was breathing behind you, the gentle nips at the flesh of your ass, he was in no mood to wait.

“Good girl,” He smacked your ass, the shock of it sending a heat over the skin and a tingle down your spine. You moaned sinfully, turning your head to try and meet his gaze. He was staring down at you and, you hadn’t noticed because you were so caught up in his touch, managed to remove all of his clothing. He was all lean muscles and with a smattering of soft hair that trailed down to the very large erection, he had grasped in one hand. “Ready to take daddy’s cock, honey?”

“Fuck yes,” You whimpered, wiggling your ass slightly, “Please daddy, fuck me—”

With a groan that made your toes curl, Hotch pressed forward and slide through your sopping folds, not stopping until he’d sunk himself inside of you completely, stretching you. He stilled momentarily, and after a beat, your walls clenching around him blissfully, you murmured what you knew he was waiting to hear.

“Green.”

Hotch was older than you by enough years that when you got together, it raised many eyebrows. He had done everything right to ensure you could continue working on the BAU, including shifting your performance reviews to Derek, who could give them unbiased. Paperwork was filed with HR, and once it was all said and done, it just felt right. Like everything had fallen into place in your lives, both personal and professional. He was a man of duty and honour, a father first, and he let you into his life, allowed you to see every part of him, trusting you endlessly.

And you trusted him, always. He had your back in the field, but it was more than that. You could fight and still end up going to bed with a smile because even if he didn’t agree, he valued your perspective, was always willing to try things your way. It was a happy marriage built on a deep trust of one another.

Which was why he had agreed to the kind of sex you both enjoyed on the condition there were safe words and cautions. So you followed the stoplight system, but to help lighten the mood if you had to ask him to stop, you opted to say ‘pineapple’. You’d only ever had to use it once, and it was because you had been on your period and the position he was thrusting into you at had gone from intensely pleasurable to cramping and painful in a flash. He’d stopped immediately and spent the following hour taking care of you, kissing and massaging and, most importantly, bringing you chocolate ice cream.

Green, of course, meant go. And so when you said that magic word tonight, the tense and exhausted man you loved started thrusting at such a brutal pace you instantly saw stars behind your eyelids. With the house to yourselves, you didn’t bother holding back and let yourself make as much noise as you needed, which only drove him wild and encouraged him.

“DADDY!” You screamed, clenching around him as he filled you, his cock hitting everything perfectly. In response to your scream, one hand slid into your hair, gripping it, and pulled you back harshly. You grunt, back arching for him, and felt yourself grow slicker in response to his man-handling of you as he fucks you ruthlessly for a long time.

Hotch groans again, his deep voice cutting through your noises, “You take my cock so well, honey. Like you were—fuck—made for daddy’s cock,” His free hand lays another slap to your ass and you jerk slightly, your mouth opening in an ‘o’ as the feelings inside of you intensify. You can feel yourself getting close to coming and a small, almost pitiful sound escapes your mouth. “Aw, is my little slut going to cum? You going to soak my cock?”

“Y-yes, daddy, so close—oh, shit,” You’re moving now, matching his movements so that when he slams into you, you’re meeting him and the sounds that creates—harsh, wet and sloppy, send you over the edge. “Daddy, daddy—”

Fireworks go off behind your eyes and you can’t keep them open, lids squeezing shut as your entire body seizes and twitches, the wave of your orgasm almost too strong. It pulls you under and you don’t think you even breathe, you just float and it’s not until you feel his teeth bite into your shoulder that you realize Hotch has pulled you against his chest, fucking you at a new angle and grounding you with the conflicting pain of his bite.

There’s still so much pleasure pulsing through you, but you come down from the high of it and slump, turning into a rag doll in his capable arms. Hotch is more than happy at this outcome, the rough growl of approval tells you as much. He loves the control, the knowledge that he literally knocked the wind out of you. He has one hand pressed against your chest, over your heart to feel the wild beating. The other is still in your hair, tilting your head slightly so that he can whisper in your ear.

“Fucking slut—daddy’s good little girl—you make me feel so good,” He grunts when he thrusts up hard enough to draw another cry from you, desperate and whiny. “This pussy’s all mine, honey.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recognize his tone, that he wants a response. But you’re so strung out on the pleasure and the feel of his brutal thrusts, the way his cock splits you open, that you forget to reply. His hand slides up from your chest to grip your throat, pressing the sides just enough to have you gasping.

“Who owns this pussy? Answer me!” He accentuates his order with a wicked snap of his hips and you moan, wondering what it must look like; you being speared on his cock, limp and weak in his arms.

Another garbled whine slips out as you try to make sense of the world and find the words he’s looking for. You aren’t fast enough, and his anger grows, the hand on your throat tightening as the one in your hair drops and slaps you hard on the ass, several times. The mixture of pleasure and pain and you’re inability to breathe properly sends you right back over the edge. Unable to scream, a low and pitiful whimper starts up as you cum, soaking his cock and trembling, tears spilling from your eyes.

Hotch growls again, probably pretty pleased you came for him again but just as annoyed that you aren’t answering him. “Silly cock-slut, you can’t even speak you’re such a whore for me,” He grunts, slowing his pace so that he can thrust, then spanks you, thrust, spank, thrust, spank…

“Daddy, daddy, daddy—“

“Yes? You going to answer me, or do you want to be punished—more—“ His next smack makes you jerk, and then his grip on your throat releases and you draw in a deep breath. “Good girl, come on now, who owns your pussy?”

“You-you do, daddy. You own my pussy—shit—fuck me.”

With a low noise of approval, he starts up his rough thrusting again, smoothes his hand over the sensitive skin he’d been spanking, and then over your hip and around, until his fingers are pressing circles to your clit. Your whole spine tightens in response, your back arching into him and now you’re sure you might pass out from how good he is making you feel. With every thrust you grunt, eyes rolling back, and his fingers are bringing you back to the edge again, where you think if you fall you won’t be able to stop.

As if sensing your thoughts, Hotch holds you close and it’s the soft side whispering in your ear now, “I love you, honey, and I’ve got you. Cum for me, I know you have one more in you,” He presses his lips to your neck, your throat, and you’re so close you can’t stop trembling. “Daddy’s going to fill you up, so be a good girl now.”

You feel the way his thrusts have grown sloppy and it’s the realization that he’s holding off his orgasm to bring yours out that does it. With a soft cry, you crumble, this time you cum and it spreads through your body slowly, breaking you down and you’re grateful Hotch still holds you carefully even as he begins to groan and with one final thrust, he spills himself deep inside of you.

It’s like you’re boneless, so when he eventually stops coming, he can do whatever he wants with you and you can’t even raise a hand. Hotch lays you over the back of the couch, propping you up higher for him as you flop down, ass in the air. He stays behind you, spreads your legs wide, and his fingers begin a slow assault on your overstimulated cunt, occasionally teasing the puckered skin above. You whimper helplessly and his dirty talk returns after he has you how he wants you.

“Fucking slut, look at you,” He presses a kiss to your reddened ass cheek, “Spread out and ready for me to do whatever I want with you.” His voice is gruff, eager, and you know he’s not close to being done with you yet tonight. A thrill runs through you despite your exhaustion.

You feel his weight leave the couch and a moment later he’s standing in front of where you’re draped over the wide back of the couch. Gently, his hands take hold of your jaw and tilt your head, and Hotch meets your eyes. You smile at him weakly, “G-green, daddy…”

Soft eyes go dark, and the semi-hard cock a few inches from your face slides down your throat seconds later, large hands grasping your hair. Hotch fucks your face slow at first, enjoying cutting off your air and then releasing, until you gasp and cough. The more he does this, the harder he gets, and his cock is big enough that it’s tough for you to take in and he loves watching you struggle.

“Yeah, take it deep honey, look at you,” He brushes some hair from your face, which is covered in tears, “Daddy’s little girl looks so good with her face stuffed with cock. I’m so proud of my cock slut—oh, you can’t breathe? Okay—“ He releases again and laughs lightly when you pull in another gasp of air gratefully.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath, gathering your hair into one hand and then leaning over you to reach behind you and run his fingers through your soaked folds. He finger fucks you until you moan, which is when he abruptly stops and stands straight, wicked grin back on his handsome face as he thrusts into your throat again. You moan happily around his cock, hungry for his cum.

“Daddy’s going to cum down that throat, honey,” Hotch groans after another five minutes of brutal face fucking. “Swallow it all, slut, fuck,” He grunts, shoves himself right down your throat, and cums. At first, you can’t even swallow because you’ve taken him so far, but after a few pulses, he eases back so that you can drink him down, then back a little more to allow you to lick and suckle the remaining cum.

“Taste so good, daddy,” You sigh, and then you grin up at him again, looking for his approval.

Hotch is watching you, his eyes drinking in your cum and tear-soaked face, how you sag into the couch helplessly, and the way he smiles back tells you he’s happy—and there’s more coming.

He disappears to get you some water, and you know once he’s satisfied that you’re taken care of, he’ll take you to bed and take out his anger on you some more. You let yourself doze while you wait for him to return from the kitchen, smiling to yourself happily—you love Aaron endlessly and love being his good little slut.

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