#normal things that bosses do for their employees after they quit

[wenningfanclub]

Antis will be like “Jiang Cheng never viewed Wei Wuxian as family, he was treated like a servant!!! 😠😠😠” but like… if I showed up day-drunk to work, stopped performing my basic duties, kept skipping out when the most support was needed rebuilding, escalated fights during diplomatic events, and refused to tell anyone why I’d started behaving like this, I would definitely get fired. But instead Wei Wuxian has to quiet quit and then actually quit when even that doesn’t work, because as far as we can tell Jiang Cheng would've let him stay as first disciple forever no matter what. So like, if Jiang Cheng thinks of himself as just Wei Wuxian's boss, he does a pretty bad job of treating Wei Wuxian as just an employee.

Are there complicated class dynamics and internal senses of responsibility and debt and duty and obligation fucking both of them up? Absolutely. But Wei Wuxian is definitely not just a servant or a debtor, it’s much, much messier and more complicated than that--which is kind of the problem.

[elliewithcellie]

Protector

summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)

wc: 9.8k (oh my god)

cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously

a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on

“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.

Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.

His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”

You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.

You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.

The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.

Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.

“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.

You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”

“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”

“Sounds good.”

You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”

You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.

You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.

“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.

Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.

------

“Hotchner.”

You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.

“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”

You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.

“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.

You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.

------

The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.

The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.

Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”

“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”

 “Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?

The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.   

You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”

“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.

“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.

“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”

You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.

Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.

Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.

You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.

As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.

You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.

“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.

You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”

“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.

“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.

“What’s your book about?”

Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.

“It’s a romance,” you confessed.

“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”

You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”

You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.

“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.

You smiled at his words.

“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.

“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”

You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.

“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”

You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.

“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”

“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.

“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”

“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.

“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”

“My dad said all that?”

“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.

Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.

“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”

“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”

“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”

He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.

“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.

“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”

You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.

“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”

You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.

------

You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.

You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.

“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”

He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.

“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”

“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.

You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”

“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.

You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.

As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.

The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.

“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.

-------

In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.

JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”

You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.

“No, I slept fine. I swear.”

“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.

“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”

“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”

 “Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.

His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”

Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.

“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”

“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.

Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”

The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”

“Y/N,” Reid said.

All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.

“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”

“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”

“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.

“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.

“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”

-------

For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.

You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.

“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”

You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.

You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.

Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.

“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”

You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.

“Put it on.”

You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.

“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.

“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”

“That’s it,” Morgan said.

“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”

On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.

“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. I got it.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.

Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”

You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.

------

You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.

Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.

“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.

You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”

“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”

The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”

“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you’re missing?”

“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.

“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.

Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.

“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.

------

The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.

------

You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.

Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.

“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.

“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”

“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”

Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.

“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.

Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.

Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.

“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”

You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.

When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.

“How are you?”

“Everything hurts.”

“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”

“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”

“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”

“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”

Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”

“Hotch. Please.”

Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”

You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.

“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”

He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.

“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”

You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.

“It was you?” you asked.

Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”

“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”

The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”

Hotch shook his head no.

“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”

Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”

“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”

Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”

The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.

“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.

“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.

Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”

The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.

“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”

“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.

“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.

Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.

Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.

Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.

“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.

A few of them chuckled at your antics.

“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”

“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.

“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.

“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.

“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.

A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”

“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.

You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.

“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.

Imagine how Hotch must have felt.

“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.

The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.

“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”

“You need sleep, sir.”

“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”

You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”

“It’s why I offered.”

You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”

“What can I do?”

“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”

“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”

When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.

“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.

“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”

You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”

He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.

“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”

Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”

He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight.”

------

You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.

The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.

“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.

You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.

“How can I help?”

You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”

His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.

“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.

“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”

“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.

“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”

All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.

“Wait,” you said.

He froze.

You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”

You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.

“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”

You nodded.

He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

------

The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.

When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.

“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”

“I can get my things just fine.”

“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”

You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.

The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.

Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.

“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”

You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.

You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”

“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.

You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.

Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.

Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.

“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”

“Hotch, what is all this?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”

“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.

“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”

Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”

“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”

“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”

Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”

You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”

“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.

“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”

“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”

“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”

“I would do that for anyone.”

“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.

“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.

“This morning…” you said.

“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”

“Then what did Reid mean?”

Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”

“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”

“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”

You looked at him in shock.

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”

“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”

Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”

“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”

“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”

“Stop it, now.”

“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”

“Hotch, I swear to god—”

“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”

“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”

“But he’s not just mean, is he?”

The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.

Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”

You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”

Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”

“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”

His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.

He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”

“This is ok,” you said, breathless.

“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”

A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”

You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.

“Your room. Now.”

His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.

Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.

“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.

You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.

You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.

“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.

“You, first.”

Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your turn,” he said.

You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.

You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.

“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”

Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.

You nodded.

“Use your words, honey.”

Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”

He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.

“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.

“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”

Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.

Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.

A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.

“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.

“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.

“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.

“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.

When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.

Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.

“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”  

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”

He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.

Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”

“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”

Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.

You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”

Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.

Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.

“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”

“Faster, please,” you said.

His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.

“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”

He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.

“Just like that!” you blurted out.

He did just that, slamming into you again and again.

“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.

“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.

“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”

You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.

“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”

“Chest!”

He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.

Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.

“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”

“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”

Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.

“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.

“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”

“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”

In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.

“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.

“The team’s gonna know,” you said.

Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”

You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”

“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”

Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.

************

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[suiana]

I'm thinking about a yandere! secretary who's an absolutely manipulative piece of shit❤️

you hired him because his resume was impeccable and you thought he'd be a perfect fit for the empty position.

which... he is.

but the fact that he's younger than you by a decent amount and can be quite unprofessional at times does throw you off. is it something younger people like doing? is it normal to visit your employee's house with no one else around?

"hey boss, I'm thinking of inviting you over to my place tonight? just the two of us? we can drink and eat fried chicken together❤️"

"my dear, that is rather unprofessional don't you think?"

"what? no of course not. you're thinking into it too much."

it doesn't help that you're sort of a people pleaser and give into his demands easily.

you just want to see all your employees be happy! is that so wrong of you? of course not! and all your other employees (excluding your secretary) all appreciate and treat you with respect. and as you know by now, your secretary is an asshole who makes use of your easily swayed personality to get you to do... things in his favour.

but you don't know that! you just think it's because of the age gap that causes you not to understand his actions and words! surely he's not trying to love you right?

"boss~ don't you think i should meet your family? your parents? you met mine the other day didn't you? oh my parents absolutely loved you! they thought you were so sweet and-"

"w-well... that's only because you got a raise and you suggested i should inform your family about how well you were performing during work... there's no reason for you to meet my-"

"boss, be serious. do you hate me?"

"no of course not! i-"

"that's settled then! we can go and meet your family after this!"

"...yes, my dear."

with that said, he's also an excellent actor and knows how to play things to his advantage. by the time you realize what's going on, you'll already be trapped in the palm of his hand.

"my dear... i am so sorry. we shouldn't have slept together, nor gotten together. it was a severe lapse in judgement and I'm sorry that i crossed the line between personal and professionalism."

"what are you talking about darling? don't worry your silly head over all that. professionalism? who needs that? all the other employees think we look great together, and your family loves me! plus, I'm your boyfriend that you love, yes?"

"i-"

"now stop speaking about stupid things. you don't have to worry about that anymore. just listen to me. it's normal to date your secretary. it's what the younger people are doing nowadays! I'm already 26! so don't worry..."

and it's not like you can just fire him either. like i said, he does an excellent job at being your secretary. also the fact that he practically controls HR and influences them into thinking every other potential employee is subpar. so when you hold a meeting about whether to fire him everyone protests against it. but that's not important.

besides, he won't let you do that. why would you want to get rid of him? you only need him don't you? he's perfect for this job! you don't need another secretary. you don't need anyone else.

just him. only him.

and you two will be happy together as long as you listen to his words and don't try getting rid of him. after all, you might be older but times are changing! you need the hand of a younger and more knowledgeable person. he'll help you bring the company to greater heights and bring in more revenue for you!

so stop talking about how it's wrong. it's not. it's the way of the new generation! and he just.. loves you very much. way too much.

[heavenbarnes]

Do not go gentle

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: illusions to reader suffering "some" attack earlier, nightmares, reader and hotch are goofy idiots, inappropriate boss/employee relationship, unprotected pinv sex, dirty talk, pulling out, splash the back, mentions of m!masturbation, swearing, blasphemy, hotch has a size kink if you squint.

Word Count: 4.7k

Can you believe it? I've finally posted Hotch smut? I recently picked CM back up again and turns out he's still irresistible. Enjoy this, I did.

You'd only been back a week, after having two off, and Hotch already wanted to see you in his office.

This normally wasn't a cause for concern, usually you actually liked seeing Hotch in his office. Usually because it was for praise, he'd remark good work you'd done or feed you back something good he'd heard about you from another department.

It was also in that low, calm voice and he'd always have a hint of a smile working it's way to the surface.

But this time it'd be different.

You'd been off for two weeks and everyone was worried it wasn't enough. You'd been, quite literally, through hell and back and nobody wanted to push you too hard to get back into the field.

But you'd reassured Strauss, reassured everyone, that this was the best thing for you. You'd been going stir crazy on your couch in your little apartment, watching everything the TV had on offer.

You needed to get back into things, you needed to get back to helping people.

So you made the slow ascent up to Hotch's office and quietly knocked on the door, feeling it slowly swing open against your hand. He looked up from his desk, eyes connecting with yours and his brow raising slightly.

"You wanted to see me, sir?

He waved you in with his hand, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, doing your best to relax back into things and not let him know how nervous this had made you.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

You smiled, only gently with your gaze picking out flaws in the carpet of Hotch’s office. Nodding slightly, you lifted your head to lock eyes with him.

“Good, actually,” That was honest but you could tell he was a little hesitant to accept it. “I’m glad to be back with everyone and making some difference.”

“And how are you sleeping?” Clear and level headed as ever.

You hesitated, it was only a second but there was no getting past him. You knew you had to be honest now.

“Not well, that's only when I finally get to sleep, and when I do I’m right back there again.”

Hotch’s expression was as hard to read as ever but you could see a hint of sympathy? Sadness? Concern?

“And are you seeing a therapist?”

“I am! She’s great, she says the best way through it is to keep living until I have enough good memories to replace those ones.”

You thought there may have been a hint of a smile on his face but it was gone as quick as you saw it.

“If there is anything I can do to help you, just ask- or call.”

You gave him a smile, an earnest one and you nodded as you spoke. “I will, thank you, Sir.”

That went better than you expected. He didn't want to recall you back to the office for desk work, he was just checking in. You found yourself back to feeling how you normally did when you left his office.

Not really wanting to go.

-

Your apartment was dead quiet, you couldn't even hear the usual hum of your fridge as you left the bathroom. Your home was darker than you were used to, the moonlight struggling to get through the windows.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you felt the unmistakable air of company. Something was telling you that you weren't alone in the darkness. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your fingers reached for the light switch.

So close, you were so close when you suddenly felt a strong grasp wrap around your wrist-

Awakening with a scream, you felt your heart fight it's way out of your chest. Your neighbours would probably be leaving another not-so-passive note in your mailbox about this.

Sitting up on the couch, you found your lights still on and your TV still playing some mindless background noise. Another nightmare taking your sleep right from you when you needed it most.

Your cellphone lay on your coffee table in front of you, black screen staring back at you. Mulling it over in your head, you weighed up your options.

On one hand, he quite literally said to call if you needed him. But on the other, he probably just said it as a courtesy, something everyone says.

Either way, before you could really talk yourself out of it- you were dialing Hotch’s number and pressing your phone to your ear.

Zoning out a little at the dial tone, you were quickly snapped back by the sound of his voicemail service, a robotic voice asking you to leave him a message.

It all happened too quickly, your lips were firing off before you could stop yourself.

“Ah- oh God- uh sorry, I’m sorry this is- oh it’s actually me by the way. I’m sorry I called it’s just- I uh had a nightmare. That sounds really lame now that I’m saying this and I really shouldn’t have called- uh I realise now you didn’t pick up because you’ve got a life or you're sleeping- but I'm not and I uh- shit-sorry- Sir, this might be a record for the world’s most pathetic voicemail so maybe take this to a museum- or to a lab to have me tested because what the hell is this- anyway- shit- sorry again and enjoy your night- see you at work tomorrow morning, please- uh please don’t mention this or I will have to go into hiding. Anyways- good night- sorry.”

Hanging up after the message, you threw your phone at the couch and watched it bounce off the cushions and onto the rug. Stuffing your palms into your eyes you let out a pained groan.

“Please throw your phone into the ocean!” You begged, getting up from the couch. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

You had almost forgotten the cringiest voicemail known to man. With how focused you were on perfecting this terrible boxed mac and cheese, your mind was nearly elsewhere.

Just as you’d managed to find a bit of peace, a knock at your front door made you jump out of your skin. Doing your best to calm yourself down, you brought your bowl of macaroni with you to the front door to investigate.

One eye to the peep hole, the minute you saw the person on the other side- your heart dropped. Slowly twisting the lock, you pulled the door back to reveal one Aaron Hotchner.

A very cozy looking Aaron Hotchner.

“Sir-“

“I got your message, you had another nightmare?”

Your words got trapped up in your throat before you could get them out. “Uh yeah.”

“What about? Are you okay”

Clearing your throat, you did your best to focus your gaze on him, remind yourself that you were here- safe in your apartment and not back there.

“Same old, I’m alone in the dark and then suddenly- he’s there.”

There was that expression on Hotch’s face again, this time you were sure it was concern, genuine concern. It was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry this keeps happening to you.”

Just as you were about to brush it off, pretend like it wasn’t driving you crazy, you could see a faint smile appearing as he kept speaking.

“I couldn’t find a museum that'd accept your voicemail but I did find a 24 hour convenience store with ice cream.”

He lifted the bag in his right hand and you could faintly see the tub through the plastic. “Is that cookies? That’s my-“

“Your favourite, yeah it is- do you mind sharing?”

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks as you nodded, quickly realising you’d been having this whole conversation in the hallway.

“Oh yeah, come in- get out of my hallway would you?”

Hotch laughed, quietly, but he still laughed as he walked in. He went straight to the kitchen as you hovered by the couch.

“I can even share my gross looking boxed mac and cheese if you ask nicely.”

That got the rest of the laugh out of him, smiling over his shoulder as he made himself at home in your kitchen. Trying to give yourself something to do, you picked up the TV remote.

“Sorry, the TV’s just been on as background noise but we could watch a movie- only if you want- I don’t even know how long you-“

Thankfully, Hotch cut you off again. “I’d love to watch a movie, as long as it isn’t a cartoon, with dinosaurs or superheroes.”

As he rounded the couch and passed you a bowl of ice cream, you looked up at him with an incredulous expression on your face.

“I literally just rented ‘cartoon dinosaur superheroes’, what the hell?"

Your face broke out in a grin before you could even finish your dumb joke and it had an instant effect on Hotch.

“Yeah well, I preferred the TV series- it went into much more detail.”

Spoon in your mouth, you shot a look at your usually-very-serious boss. You weren’t used to seeing this many smiles- let alone hearing this many jokes from the man.

“Which one was your favourite? The green one?” You pushed the corny little joke a little further.

He glanced back in your direction as he lifted his own spoon to his lips. “I liked the one that put out fires.”

Immediately a grin broke out across your face as you couldn't contain your giggles. You quieted down to a hum as you nodded at his quip. “There totally would be one that put out fires.”

Leaning back into your couch, you picked up your feet to lean them on your coffee table.

“You can put your feet up by the way, I don’t mind.”

As quickly as you said it, Hotch was reaching out a long arm to wave at your legs. “I do, get your feet off the table.”

Looking at him in (slight) faux-shock, you shook your head as he did his best to fight off an impending chuckle.

“Excuse me? This is my house!”

Hotch’s smile only grew. “Hardly a house, it’s a living room with a bed in the back of it.”

Stunned expression painted across your face, a series of unintelligible noises fell past your lips as it was your turn to try not to laugh.

“Alright then, next time I have a trauma induced nightmare then I’ll be coming to your house.”

“Perfect, I’ll have the boxed macaroni cheese and dinosaurs.”

“Great, and I’ll pick apart every stylistic choice you’ve ever made in.”

Hotch finished off another spoonful of ice cream as he shrugged. “I think you’ll find I’m a very skilled interior decorator.”

You cocked your head towards him, eyes narrowed as you played on the bit. “Suuuurely not?”

“I am, and don’t call me Shirley.”

Eyes wide in excitement as he said the words, you couldn’t believe Aaron Hotchner was a certified funny-guy. Your stoic boss, your always knowing what to say, what to do, boss. You quickly reached for the TV remote off the table as the next thought struck you.

“That’s the one, I wonder if they're streaming Airplane!”

It wasn’t like you even lasted the first 20 minutes before you fell asleep. You felt so warm, so cozy, so at peace that you hadn’t even realised you were drifting off until you did.

Hotch didn’t mind either, just happy to see you finally sleeping. His right arm stayed firmly around your side as your cheek and hand laid against his chest, snoring only quietly.

He smiled from above you, tilting his neck just enough to gently rest his chin against the top of your head.

That night you dreamed, for the first time in weeks. You were in your apartment, but the lights were shining and the moon had cast a glow over the room. You could tell you weren’t alone, you felt the company, but you couldn't find it to be scared.

Somebody else was in your apartment and he remembered your favourite ice cream.

-

As you rushed through the door of the conference room, all eyes switched from the round table fell on you. Within an instant, heat was rising up your cheeks.

“Nice of you to join us.” Morgan teased as you slipped into a seat next to Spencer.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, scrambling to grab some of the files in front of you. “Slept in.”

A simple sentence quieted everyone back down as expressions softened across all of them.

“Slept?” JJ asked quietly, full attention on you. “You’re sleeping again?”

A smile cracked at the corner of your lips, nodding gently as you tried to keep your head down. “Yeah, first time in weeks last night.”

Everyone let you off the hook after that, it was all back to work and start filing the reports from the last case. As you all shuffled out to head back to your desks, you heard a voice behind you call your name.

Leaving just you and Hotch in the room, you felt that same heat creep right back up your neck. You stepped over towards him, only bringing yourself to meet his eyes once you were right in front of him.

“Sir, listen, about last night-“

“I’m sorry,” He stopped your babbling before you could even start. “I was out of line.”

Not what you were expecting. This morning had been hazy, Hotch slipping out with a sore neck from sleeping upright. You not even waking as he left.

But this was still-

“I shouldn’t have let myself get as close as I did,” He continued, his tone back to as professional as always. “It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?”

Hotch couldn’t bare the look on your face. Eyes dropping in confusion and bottom lip daring to wobble. He had to steel himself, he had to walk out of that room before he did something that'd cost his career.

-

He'd completely closed down any chance for the two of you. You'd sort-of-kind-of resigned yourself to the fact it was never going to happen, but having it come crashing down right in front of you hurt more than you'd expected.

You didn't realise that you'd designated a space to him in the centre of your chest until you felt it break. Thinking back on it now, it will completely foolish to think your boss would ever dare to pursue anything with you.

But there was last night.

You'd woken briefly, just the once, and you'd felt his arm around your waist. You'd heard the beat of his heart just under your ear. You could've sworn you'd felt him press his lips against the top of your head.

That was all said and done now. If you'd known it was your only chance, you probably would've held onto it for just a little longer. You thought a hot shower after a long day would help to dissipate your feelings, but you still felt it weighing heavy on your mind.

Shuffling to the kitchen, you decided there was no other choice but to get on with things. What'd your therapist said? Keep moving forward until you have more good memories to replace the other ones?

Besides, you'd gotten on just fine before, without him. There was no reason for this to change anything.

Even after you knew how it felt to fall asleep beside him.

Swinging open the box freezer, you scanned the shelf for something to eat before your eyes fell on the scene of the crime. Last night's ice cream stared back at you with cruel intent.

You decided you'd make a spectacle of it, retrieving it from the freezer to stab a spoon right through the middle of it. The first mouthful stung, the rest was just...ice cream.

Dragging your feet towards the couch, you were nearly close enough to collapse into comfort when a knock at the door sent a fright through you that you'd never get used to. Cautiously, you pressed your eye back to the peep hole and screwed up your face in confusion.

"Sir?" You asked as the door swung open, finding Hotch back in that same place on your doorstep.

"Listen, I'm sorry-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "You really don't have to be. Like you said, it shouldn't have happened."

You'd been hesitant to look him in the eye as you spoke, roaming the spotted ceiling of your apartment hall instead. But as you shifted to catch his eyes, you found him- preocupied.

Hotch's eyes trailed further down, serious expression fixed to his features as his eyes moved to your legs. Only when you went to follow his gaze did you realise.

You'd answered the door fresh out the shower. Skin still a little damp, only in a t-shirt and a thin pair of panties.

You were standing in front of your boss in next to nothing.

And he looked like he wanted to eat you whole (he did).

He managed to clear his throat, to tear his eyes off your body and back to your face. Mustering up the courage, tensing his fists and relaxing his shoulders, he began speaking before he could think.

"I am sorry and I need to say it. I overstepped a boundary here and I put my own feelings for you over everything else and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable-"

"Hotch-"

"I thought I was fine with keeping this in my head and I never wanted to-"

"Hotch-"

"But I just need to tell you that this wont change anything with-"

"Sir."

Finally, your interjection managed to cut through and he stopped himself. "Hotch, you've never asked me what I actually want."

His features softened a tiny amount, his fists unfurling as he willed himself to relax the rest of himself. "What do you want?"

Taking a long stride towards him, you found yourself nearly chest to chest with the man. Your hand gently ran his tie through your fingers, twisting a little to grasp it for leverage.

"You."

Hotch sucked in a deep breath, his head tilted towards you but his eyes closed. "Please don't say that."

You looked up at him from under your lashes, finding him slowly opening his eyes to watch you move even closer to him.

"Got no reason to lie to you, sir."

You heard his breath catch in his throat as Hotch moved his hands, until they were just and only resting on your hips. You felt the heat radiating off his large palms, closing in until they spanned across your lower back.

"I really shouldn't do this." His voice was a hush, he was still trying to talk himself out.

Not like you were going to let him.

"Then let me."

Closing the space between the two you, your lips pressed against the hard line of his until he opened up for you. You lead things just long enough for him to get comfortable, falling into motion and his tongue pushing forward into your mouth.

His hands tightened, gripping onto your waist like he might lose you if he let you go. Walking you back into your apartment, he blindly kicked his leg back to shut the door. Surging forward, he had the backs of your thighs against the arm of the couch.

Pulling back to take a look at you, his eyes moved to you swollen lips. His thumb came up to brush against your lower lip, gently gripping it between his fingers.

"Pretty, pretty girl," He sighed, you could feel his thigh slotting between your legs. "Such a good girl."

You couldn't stop it, the heady little moan that fell from your mouth at his words. Mixed with the soft feeling of his suit pants pressing to your core, undoubtedly you were leaving some kind of mess on the expensive trousers.

Hotch flexed his thigh, enjoying the feeling of you grinding yourself against his leg like a desperate slut. He watched as you tipped your head back, exposing the column of your throat to him.

Ducking his head, he pressed his lips in a line down your neck and biting gently at the join of your shoulder. "Get up on the couch."

His voice was a rumble in his chest, but there was a command in there that had you moving without being told twice. You went to sit down on it, but Hotch caught you and spun you slightly till you were falling onto the cushions on your knees.

Arms slung over the back of the couch and ass pointed out, you looked back over your shoulders with hazy eyes. Hotch slipped his suit jacket off, throwing it across a chair as he started to roll up his sleeves.

It was so simple, such an easy move but it had an effect on you like nothing else. His strong arms came into view and the veins on his hands flexed as he rolled the fabric. You could feel the damp spot growing on your panties.

This was a different Hotch than the one that stayed over the other night. This was closer to the one that sat behind his desk, stoic and unshakeable. Part of you knew the desperation that was hiding behind the stern look on his face.

You two really had one shot at this. The voice in the back of your head was telling you to enjoy this, it'd never happen again.

Snapping you from your thoughts, you felt two long fingers run up the length of your cunt. Even through the thin fabric of your underwear, you could feel his rough grasp as he gently began to rub at your clit.

Your head lolled forward, a gasp sounding from your chest as you backed your hips towards his touch. As he slid your panties to the side, fingers now running right through your wetness, you could hear the sound of him drawing down his fly.

"I've tried so hard- from the moment I met you-" The words fell from his lips, his knee coming up on the couch to get closer. "I've thought about this moment every night."

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, feeling his firm chest press to your back as his words spurred you on. You could picture it in your mind, your boss in the shower, alone in his bed- his hand fisting at his cock as he thought of you.

Pretty you, sweet and kind you. Always the first to do what he says, to look at him with those glassy eyes and say "yes, sir." To him, this was inevitable.

It was only ever a matter of time.

Swiping up the slick from between your legs, you looked back quickly to see him running it across the head of his cock. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing the size of him as he dragged his hand down the length of it.

"Fuck- that's big."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud. Hotch chuckled as your words, his brows raising slightly as he did.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," He cooed, lining himself up with your entrance. "We'll make it fit."

Your eyes squeezed shut and a drawn out, frankly pornographic, moan fell out. Hotch groaned deep in his chest as he sunk into you, feeling the tight grip of your soaking cunt.

Feeling the press of his lips on your shoulder blade, he made it in fully before he stilled. He was giving you a moment, letting you catch your breath despite the ever-present need to absolutely wreck you.

Reaching back, you franticly tapped at his hip. Quiet pleas of "move, please move" filling the space around you. He was kind, he gave you exactly what you needed as he began to roll his hips into yours.

One of his hands firmly held your hip, the other ran underneath your t-shirt so he could grip at your chest. He cupped one of your breasts, rolling it round in his large palm as he groaned into the crook of your neck.

"God- you feel so good, sweetheart."

You whimpered for him, a pathetic whine sounding from you as you bucked your hips back against him. The hand on your hip began to slip forward, fingers coming around to rub against your clit.

From the speed in which he was fucking into you, the frantic movements of his fingers, the clip of his breath- he was trying hard to hold on. He was doing whatever he could to keep his cool but he was finding it increasingly difficult.

The prettiest girl he'd ever laid his eyes on, the subject of all his inappropriate desires was knelt in front of him. You were somehow tighter than he'd dreamed, somehow sounded sweeter than he'd imagined.

You were calling out his name, chants of "Aaron, fuck, Aaron-" that were no doubt slinking through the thin walls of this apartment and keeping the neighbours up.

He didn't care, he'd get you to tell the whole fucking city if he could. When you felt this good, when you looked this pretty for him? He'd throw his whole career to the fucking wind if it meant he got to do this whenever he wanted.

Maybe- maybe not that far. But Hotch wasn't really in the position to be thinking logically right now. Not when you were turning back over your shoulder to capture his lips, moaning straight down his throat as he continued to sink his hips into you.

"Fuck- you're so deep, sir."

Hotch could've come right then, there was no way he could keep it together when you were saying it like that. He knew good and well that this is why this was never meant to happen.

How was he meant to go back to work and deal with you calling him that, when he's heard just how good it could sound?

He sped up his fingers, messy circles rubbing at your clit as your whole body began to tense. He felt your back arching, pushing back into his chest as you cried out.

"God- I'm gonna'- Aaron- I'm gonna' cum-" Was all you could manage before you clenched around him.

Suddenly, your vice grip released and you were falling limp against the couch with a whimper. Hotch fucked you through it, feeling the shocks wracking your body as he drew out your orgasm as long as he could.

Hotch watched over you, seeing the blissed out expression on your face as you came for him. He looked down to see the way your cunt fluttered around him, a wet mess left on the shaft of his cock.

Taking mental note, he knew that he'd never be able to forget this. His one chance to have you like this, to hold you and feel you gripped around him. The sight of you took over him, his hips stuttering as he gripped hard on your hips.

You opened your eyes just in time to see his head tipped back, strong arms and chest straining against his dress shirt. Hotch's lips parted as a quiet moan of your name ripped from his chest.

Quickly, he slipped himself out as he stroked himself over your ass. Long fingers pulled your panties down around your thighs as hot ropes of cum painted your lower back and behind. Your eyes were growing hazier but you kept them open to watch as he did it.

You were slumped over the back of the couch, high dissipating through your body as you heard him tuck himself back into his trousers. You could hear him moving away, but soon he returned with a warm cloth against your back.

Slipping your panties back into place, he turned you around gently and settled you into his side. Right back where things had started, your sleepy body falling into him.

You both knew it, that this would be the last time. This would never go anywhere else. But there was part of you that'd become content with that, getting used to the strong beat of his heart beside your ear.

Feeling a strong hand brush against your face, this time you were sure of it. His lips pressed softly against the top of your head as you began to drift off asleep.

You knew he'd been gone again when you woke up, you'd both show up to work like all of this hadn't happened. But that was okay, you felt the sleep overtaking you- a feeling that you'd missed.

You slept absolutely soundly, for the second time in weeks.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists

↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem

• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it

• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day

• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks

• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it

• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it

• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates

• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees

• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’

• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion

• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”

• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded

• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it

• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “

• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him

• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in

• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”

• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter

• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”

• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room

• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all

• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move

• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron

• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments

• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!

• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar

• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day

• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same

• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words

• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed

• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule

• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal

• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket

• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”

• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face

• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door

• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe

• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them

• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone

• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 

• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily

• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”

• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”

• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that

• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something

• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond

• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter

• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged

• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately

• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head

• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him

• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so

• An eye twitch

• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 

• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all

• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms

• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“

• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird

• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."

• "Agreed."

[fizzie-frog]

You know, the Stolitz scene was a trainwreck as a whole (they usually are), but what honestly got me most was the way Blitz started pleading when he thought his livelihood was going to be taken away.

THIS IS NOT A STOLAS SLANDER POST. I'm coming from a place where I've seen Blitz being mostly, if not entirely blamed for their lack of communication most of the time.

Moving on...

People keep going like "Well if imps are so low in the hierarchy..." - Let's take a break to think. Blitz isn't rich, he's just getting by really. And how is he getting by?

By prostituting himself. To the upper class.

That's what it is, he's a certified whxre. Things may have evolved in the meantime, but that's how it started. Blitz got asked for the deal while being chased by a crazy lady and him, wanting to keep his business and livelihood, said yes, obviously.

Now Stolas was suddenly taking the book back with no apparent explanation (until they got to the crystal), so of course Blitz thought he was doomed. On a side note, why couldn't Stolas say "You won't need the book, I have an alternative" instead of the ominous "I'll need the book back, permanently. I have made up my mind." I would be scared out of my mind.

He teared up immediately and started pleading, you could already see what was going through his head. He won't have the means to support his business anymore, to pay his employees, to afford a home, he'll be homeless and have no means to take care of Loona. Everyone will leave him again and he will starve on the streets all alone.

He'd do anything to be able to live a life a bit better than miserable, of course he would.

And this brings me to Stolas's treatment of Blitz. I see that everything tends to fall on Blitz, and I'm not saying he has no fault (in fact I didn't even like him at the beginning of the series too much), but Stolas treated him like a peasant. Just the episode before Ozzie's he's called him his "impish little plaything" and asked for a reward for the rescue. He put out cigarettes on his horns, he ignored his "stop" most times, he addressed him in this little baby voice with babying diminutives. "Itty bitty" imp.

And I am sure Stolas is socially clueless. He was brought up alone and sheltered, taught to be a prince first and foremost.

Stolas probably saw this as playful banter, as something that is inoffensive, silly. It was only in the Ozzie's episode that he finally saw that actually, his silly play served to make Blitz feel smaller.

And of course in this scenario, Blitz would see this coming out of the nether. He reacted quite badly, but why would this prince be actually in love with him? As he said, he needed to have a minute (or several) to think about everything. They needed to talk this out, and Blitz was about to apologize when Stolas cast him out.

They were both emotionally charged. They fucked up. But I can see Blitz's side. And the power imbalance is so evident, that hierarchy that everyone keeps saying is irrelevant - in a moment's notice, he could have his life swept from underneath him. Just like he thought it happened in that split moment; it worried him so much that he cried and pleaded (and that's not in Blitz's character to do).

And then he was so scared of not being enough too, ugh, his little "I can always do better!". He's so used to everyone just seeing him as a lost cause, better to be discarded. With this amalgamation of things, no wonder he can't believe Stolas would have feelings for him.

So uh, I don't know what the conclusion to this is. Normalize getting imps some actual comfort? So far the only really privileged imp in Helluva Boss is Fizz after getting rid of Mammon. And when I say priviledged, I'm referring to wealth and upper class, not taking into account personal issues such as disability and so forth.

Anyway, this was my two cents on Stolitz. I honestly haven't thought too much on them, I'm riding on the Fizzarolli high. I'm chill over here in my Fizzmodeus bubble, but doesn't mean I have no thoughts on Stolitz.

[ppssession]

It wouldn't hurt to switch roles sometimes.

Denis is a skinny nerd who looks very weak during his school break. Instead of having a relaxing break, he has to work at a seaside resort to earn money to survive because he is alone with no parents

One day while he was working hard, he met the son of the owner of this resort. He was a hot guy with a hot body that made my heart flutter. He was often at the beach showing off his beautiful muscles. He came to stay here during the school break. He seemed to be the same age as me, which made me feel a little jealous because our fates were so different

Later, I often noticed him disappearing into a small stone alley to take a nap during the day. When he was sleeping, I would often sneak up on him to watch him. I admired his handsome face while he was sleeping, which made my heart beat faster. When I returned, I would sometimes be reprimanded by my boss for disappearing for a while One day while I was cleaning my room in the morning, I found a strange coin. It had small letters that said “Switch”. I was a little surprised when I looked at it, but I didn’t really care. After I finished cleaning, I walked out of the room and looked at the beach. I saw a young man who had made my heart flutter not long ago. Even though I had been watching him for a while, I still didn’t know his name. I tried to ask my boss, but he gave me a stupid reason that a temporary employee like me didn’t need to know the name of the resort owner’s son. Even though I was hurt, I couldn’t do anything. At work, I didn’t even have any friends to talk to.

Not long after, my boss ordered me to bring him sunglasses. "Why didn't he go get them himself?" I thought to myself as I brought him sunglasses. When I arrived at the beach, I didn't see him. I knew immediately that he must be in that small stone alley. When I arrived at the stone alley, I was shocked to see him lying naked. Normally, he would wear pajamas, but now he took off his pajamas to reveal his big, long penis. Its thickness made my heart beat very fast. I stared at it, looking at every part of his body as he slept. But suddenly, I felt a vibration from a coin in his pocket. When I opened it, I found a strange coin that shook and glowed. I took it out and saw the small letters that said "Switch". It was shining very brightly. I don't know what made me say "Switch". Suddenly, my body slowly changed.

I screamed as my muscles changed. It was no wonder that no one could hear me, because the alley was quite far from the resort. But the strange thing was that no matter how loud I screamed, the body of the resort owner's son did not respond as if he could not hear me. My body gradually changed for the better. The muscles that were once thin gradually thickened until they were equal to his. My height quickly increased until they were equal to his. My face gradually changed as well. My eyes, nose, and mouth gradually changed to be his. The pain gradually decreased as almost everything gradually became his. Or was it only my penis that remained unchanged? But before I felt comfortable, my penis gradually expanded. Its size and length gradually increased. As its size and length increased, I felt as good as if someone was using his mouth to worship me.

When it was equal to his size, I reached my climax, my body trembled as I was released, I breathed heavily, looking at my changed body, running my hands over every part with satisfaction, this face, the curves of my muscles, and this genitals, it was so wonderful. I looked at the still body of the resort owner's son, his body slowly changed and shrunk into my old body. Seeing this, I smiled wickedly, took off my old clothes, stole the swimming trunks that were lying next to him to put on. "It feels so good to have a new chicken." While putting it on, I looked at the strange coin that had fallen as I slowly changed. I picked it up. When my finger touched the coin, memories of the resort owner's son flooded my mind. Addresses, passwords, family preferences, everything came to mind. "I finally know your name, Six. I am now Six Mason, the son of the hot resort owner. Denis walked out of the alley in his new identity. After walking for a while, he looked at his old body walking back to work and was reprimanded for being gone for so long. "Poor Denis, my old self." Denis, who was now Six, wore sunglasses and walked back and forth on the beach to show off his hot body like the old Six used to do. "Well, I have to think about what to do next in this new body when I get back to the resort. “I think I’d rather have fun with my new chicken, haha,” he said as he reached into his pants pocket to grab his penis that was slowly becoming hard inside his pants.

This is a story requested by a lovely follower. I hope you, the readers and those who requested it, will enjoy it. Haha, if there are any errors, please help me fix them. I hope to continue writing stories like this. See you in the next one. Bye bye.

[slashbitch2]

The Proposal AU! (part two)

Summary: when your boss Agatha faces the threat of deportation, she convinces you to marry her in return for a promotion- and things only get more complicated with a trip to Salem, an eccentric tarot-card-reading aunt, and a homophobic mother to convince.

Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

TW: deportation (which I admit I know very little about I'm not American lol) suggestive themes, sort of arranged marriage

W.C: roughly 1.3k words

PARTS: ONE, THREE

“There’s no way this is going to work.” You said, bouncing your leg underneath the table, finding it the only outlet for the sickening anxiety weighing down upon you.

To your left, Agatha was scrolling on her phone, nonchalant and entirely unaffected by your panic.

Realising you weren’t going to get a response; you allowed your gaze to travel across the room. It was barren, impersonal and imposing. The chair opposite was currently empty as you waited for someone to arrive. Who, you weren’t quite sure. You really didn’t understand anything about this entire process, and you silently prayed that Agatha did.

Agatha, who was infuriatingly casual about the whole thing. It wouldn’t surprise you if she didn’t understand the process, if she was just winging it- if she had dragged you into all this just to torture you. In an attempt to pass the time, you tried racking your brains for something you might’ve done wrong recently. A coffee order you had messed up, a report you had forgotten to submit, a mistake you might’ve made with her calendar. Yet, nothing came to mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you looked Agatha up and down. Her coat was neatly folded over the back of the chair that she was slumped in, rather ungracefully you noted. She was wearing a purple jumper with a broach pinned to the collar, one you had never seen her without. You had always longed to ask her whether there was some meaning behind it, but knew better than to expect a genuine answer.

You glanced up at her face, framed by strands of dark brown hair falling from a messy bun, and watched as she chewed on her lip. Now this was a habit you hadn’t noticed before.

“Are you nervous?” You interrogated after spending a second longer staring at her lips than was socially acceptable.

“Why would I be? She murmured, not bothering to look up from her phone. “I have my gorgeous fiancé here with me.”

You sighed, willing her to show one ounce of normal human emotion and opening your mouth to refute.

“Well, isn’t that just lovely to hear.”

Both you and Agatha jumped in your seats at the sound of a foreign voice.

The man rounded the desk, dressed in a perfectly tailored, colourless suit. He had neatly combed grey hair and an impassive expression. “Lovely to meet you both.” He said, routinely taking his seat opposite. “I’m Tyler Hayward and I’ll be handling your case Miss…” the man’s eyes travelled across the file already opened on his desk. “Miss Harkness.” He finished, smiling up at you both coldly.

“Pleasures all mine.” Agatha smirked, tucking her phone away to pay the man full attention.

Finding your mouth suddenly dry, you nodded with a grimace that you hoped came across more like a smile.

“So, I have one question.” Hayward clasped his hands together, eyes darting between you both before landing specifically on you. He licked his lips, prolonging the tense silence, then finally, “Are you committing fraud to avoid her deportation so that she may keep her position at the company you work at?”

Right then and there, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating.

“That’s insane!” Agatha exclaimed, faking outrage as she slammed her palm down onto the desk- ever one for the dramatics. “The audacity to even suggest such a thing!”

You looked over at Hayward, seeing the glint in his otherwise frigid composure. You knew this was the kind of reaction he had hoped for, fake or not, and while this kind of intimidation tactic worked for Agatha with incompetent employees, it wouldn’t work on this occasion. She was doing herself no favours in trying to sell this sham marriage, and any remaining hope you held that she had a plan immediately went out the window.

“How dare you, we’re in love!” Agatha continued. “And I do not appreciate those kinds of insinuations that-“

“Hey, hold on now, love.” You intervened, ignoring how unnatural it felt to be referring to your boss in such a way. “He’s just doing his job.” Swallowing back your discomfort, you reached over to place a soothing hand on Agatha’s thigh, trying to ignore the way her skin radiated warmth through the layer of fabric. “But no, Mr Hayward, there is nothing fraudulent about the way I feel for Agatha. Unconventional, maybe. But definitely real.” You said through gritted teeth, attempting to force as much affection into your gaze as you could.

Which was especially hard with the way Agatha was staring back at you: a mixture of impressed, confused, and suggestive…

“My apologies.” Agatha said, placing her hand over yours. “I just get upset when people make assumptions about my personal life.”

“I understand that.” Hayward nodded, pulling your attention away from Agatha and back to him. “And you’re right it is unconventional for a relationship between an employer and employee. How, might I ask, does the company feel about this? I’m surprised they would allow such a relationship.” He inquired, though his curiosity wasn’t genuine. He knew that it wouldn’t be permitted, that this was a glaring flaw in your non-existent plan.

“The truth is…” You began, swallowed hard and thought desperately about how to respond. “Agatha and I… we’re just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love… but did.” You shrugged, pretending as though you were reliving such great hardships. “And we couldn’t tell anyone we work with... As you pointed out, it would be deeply inappropriate.”

You smiled sadly, praying that Agatha would jump in so you wouldn’t have to monologue any longer. Each word you worried over, just waiting for you to slip up and have Hayward jump in and arrest you for fraud. You could practically feel the handcuffs around your wrists now, the cold metal tight against your skin, cutting into your flesh, constricting your movement. You felt your heart start to pound, your palms start to sweat.

Agatha must’ve felt you tensing up, as suddenly, you felt her thumb begin to trace soothing patterns against the top of your hand. Round and round. Real and yet ever so gentle. The soft contact drew you back into the moment, back to her.

Back to Hayward…

“So, no co-workers will be able to vouch for you.” He looked down at his file, grabbed a pen and scribbled something down. “What about family? Have the two of you told your parents about this forbidden love?”  He questioned, narrow-eyed and mocking.

“Oh, I…” You grit your teeth together, sucking in a lungful of air as you pondered how this would look. “My parents are out of the country right now.”

“Of course they are.” Hayward chuckled maliciously, jotting more down on his form.

“Well, my mother is actually on a road trip through the country with some… other relatives.” Agatha chimed in, regaining Hayward’s attention. “In fact, we were planning on joining up with them in Salem this weekend to share the wonderful news.”

“We were?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

“Oh yeah, how could you forget, sweetheart?” She fake-reprimanded. “It’s Aunt Lilia’s big sixtieth birthday road trip, the whole family’s coming together to surprise her.”

“Right…” You nodded along, though you couldn’t rid yourself of the frown adorning your face. You recognised what Agatha was doing. She was overcompensating, but she was only going to complicate this arrangement even further.

“How lovely.” Hayward drawled. “I suppose you’ll both be travelling up tomorrow then?”

“That we will.” Agatha gulped, your eyes tracing the movement of her throat.

You turned back to Hayward and met his evident annoyance with a smile, one more genuine. You didn’t like the man. You wanted to prove him wrong...

“I for one can’t wait!”

NEXT PART

[cursingtoji]

ᥫ᭡ — EXECUTIVE AFFAIRS: In a cutthroat world of boardroom battles and power struggles, you must navigate ambition , corporate intrigue, and unexpected love affairs.

✧ PRELUDE

— contents: CEO!reader, construction worker!Toji, lawyer!Nanami, therapist!Geto, ex-husband!Gojo; power imbalance, sexual frustration, manipulation, use of 'darling', 'baby', 'dear' & 'boss', 4k words, on-going series

— note: osha is the occupational safety and health administration agency in the USA, even tho i'm not american seems easier to just say osha (also a fun word to pronunce)

A young man opens the rear door of the Jaguar as soon as your driver stops by the construction site, “This way ma’am” you accept his hand, touching the cement with your stiletto first before getting out of the vehicle.

As scheduled you are heading to a meeting with the architect responsible for this particular project, a big one. Normally the CEO wouldn’t be involved in such routine visits like this, but you definitely don’t want to be like the previous CEO, who barely stepped out of his office for anything.

Besides, you have to make a good impression with the other directors that would be there today as well, and what better way to do that if not going to the construction site yourself, even though you clearly do not belong there given the way your heel wobbled as soon as it touched the uneven ground.

“Excuse me, miss” you’re stopped by a man twice your size — horizontally and almost vertically — extending a white helmet in your direction, “I’m sure that hair costed a lot and you don’t wanna cover it, but every person on site, even the ladies, ‘gotta wear it.”

You stand a bit shocked at the man addressing you like it’s not your last name on his uniform.

“Mr. Fushiguro, I should inform you that it’s your CEO you’re talking to” the boy beside you speaks up, he’s wearing a white helmet and the unknown man a yellow one.

“Great, so you are able to afford the OSHA fine if they decide today is a good day for inspection, but I’d rather not have another pointless safety training just ‘cause no one had the balls to tell you to protect your pretty ‘lil head” his expression doesn’t change a bit with the new information. You find that respectable, especially having so many people stuttering when talking to you.

If you were to say that you don’t get even a little bit amused by people being nervous in your presence Nanami would have to warn you about perjury. 

It’s quite a change to have a blue collar employee sticking to the rules and not batting an eye when the highest possible authority of the company is standing right in front of him, especially when that someone looks like he just got out of a sexy construction men calendar… not that you have ever seen one of those. That’s just what you think they might look like, plus that scar only adds up to fantasy.

You clean your throat, “I appreciate your work ethic, Mr. Fushiguro” you repeat the name so you won’t forget, “I wasn’t aware of the rules” you side-look the young man beside you who’s now staring at his own feet embarrassed since it was his duty to inform you.

“Call me Toji” you take the helmet and put it on, “By the way, you’re supposed to wear trousers too and… literally anything but that” he points with his chin to your high heels thinking how that alone was a safety hazard not just on a construction site. Toji leans closer “but I’ll let it slide, ‘cause you have quite beautiful legs.”

You are left mouth agape, internally appreciating that he didn’t say that out loud — after all being sexualized when you are trying to impose respect would require you to put a show and fire the man — but also makes you question if he was straight forward with you because of his work ethics or because he does not respect you as his superior. 

Not that you wouldn’t let him do disrespectful things to you, but still!

You’re taken to where the rest of the directors are, they’re easy to spot — a bunch of men in suits that clearly don’t belong to the place — surrounding a table with the blue prints. They greet you and you realize this is the first time you see all of them around a table and not sitting, poor guys must be dying for a room with AC right now.

It’s not like you belonged there either, with your tailor made beige suit that had a pencil skirt instead of the newly-discovered-necessary trousers and how-the-fuck-you-thought-that-was-a-good-idea high heels. But in your own defense you did visit a lot of construction sites when you first started at the company all those years ago and that’s much more than the white collar men in front of you can say.

The main architect starts to give you all an status of the project being interrupted by the senior engineer every few minutes, the last one clearly thinking he’s better than the first even though neither of them lifts a finger in this ground.

Your sight is drawn to the man that scolded you before, while the architect is pointing to something on top of the construction and everyone else is shielding their eyes from the sun to find it, you’re looking straight ahead to Toji who’s currently lifting an apparently very heavy sack of cement on his shoulder and taking it all across the site. God, he’s strong.

His handsome face shines with sweat, you’re sure the wife beater he has on also violates some OSHA code, but who would be crazy enough to report that? Not you for sure, the view is worth the OSHA fine.

Especially when he drops the sack with a grunt and uses the shirt to wipe his face, revealing a torso you’re sure Michelangelo would die to use as inspiration to sculpt into marble then having people saying ‘whoa that’s real art’. 

You wonder if someone would scream at you for touching that piece of art.

Unfortunately you don’t expect to get caught ogling by the subject himself. So the best thing you can do is find whatever the architect is pointing to and pretend to pay attention like you should have from the beginning instead of eye fucking one of your employees.

“Hey, boss” you hear on your way out of the site and back to your cozy office where you wouldn’t get your ankle broken that easily. You turn around and see Toji catwalking his way to you.

“Technically I'm out of the hazard zone, mr. Fushiguro” you justify your lack of a helmet which you ditched a few seconds ago.

“Toji” he corrects you, taking his own helmet off “and I’m not this uptight, unlike some people here today” he mutters the last part looking behind him to some of the directors that seemed to be looking for tiny errors on the project so they could fix it and justify being there.

“Well, what can I do for you?”

“I’m pretty sure you're being robbed.” 

“What?” you look around, “What do you mean?”

“You’re paying for double the stuff that’s actually being delivered” he took a sheet of folded paper out of his pants, you reach for it but he pulls it back, “I have proof and I can say names.”

“Did you say that to your field supervisor?”

“Please, who do ya think it’s signin’ under this?” he rolls his eyes.

“So you came to the CEO instead? You’re going behind some big backs here, sir.”

“Look, miss, I want a promotion, I know a lot of big shots will go down for this and I’m the only one capable of handling the people here. Besides I stand by what I said before, no one has the guts to do this so I’m taking a big risk and I deserve compensation” he hands back the paper and this time he let you take it. You stare into his deep green eyes suspiciously, the man has the looks of a fantasy villain with his sharp features and dark eyelashes, you're not entirely sure if you should believe him.

“Give your number to my assistant, we’ll schedule a meeting in the office, you tell me everything you know and I see what I can do about it.”

“In the office? Didn’t know you allowed commonores in your castle” he smirks.

“Only the pretty ones” you wink and his smile grows wider. 

“How long have you known about this?” Nanami questions.

“Not even 24 hours” you sit on your white couch signing for him to take the seat in front of you.

Your lawyer does that thing you find really hot where he unbuttons the coat of his five digit worth suit before sitting down. You admire Nanami’s elegance while he roams his eyes through the paper, he has a vest between the coat and the dress shirt. Navy blue suits him so well, matches his eyes. He makes you think every man should wear vests, but of course not every man can pull it off. Honestly, you find it hard to believe there's anything Nanami can’t pull off, but you haven't seen your lawyer without a suit… ever. 

Maybe he looks bad with a plain T-shirt? 

No way. 

Perhaps with an overall and cowboy hat? 

Mmm the image makes you wanna ride something. 

What about emo hair, eyeliner and a band tee? 

No, you can’t imagine Kento with emo hair, no chance he had a rebellious phase except if his parents wanted him to be a surgeon and he became the best lawyer in the city just to piss them off. 

“I’m glad you came to me first, but we’ll need to involve auditing and probably internal affairs. That’ll probably put the project on hold for some weeks, also I’ll need more evidence than this” he shook the one paper sheet that was merely a quotation of supplies even you could understand is way too much for a single building.

“I got the guy for that, say the word and Yuuta will arrange a meeting” you pointed to your assistant sitting outside.

“Tell me, dear” he put the sheet aside, taking that posture that intimidated you a bit, “A blue collar worker just saw your pretty self on the site and handed criminal evidence? Just like that?”

You open your mouth, thinking what to say that won’t sound like you are being taken advantage of, and failing.

“Oh darling” he says a bit too condescendingly for someone that technically works for you, “Thought I told you about being too naive” he leans on the couch, making himself comfortable like you’re about to have The Talk.

“Kento, is not like that” you cross your arms defensively, “He said he wants a promotion, how risky that would be?”

“Thought you would say that” he takes his phone and hands it to you, “So I did my own little research.”

“What’s this?” you find yourself looking at a picture of the man you met yesterday. 

Only now you could see tiny numbers behind him indicating his height and he held a plaque with his name. He looks way younger, still very handsome, you wonder how popular he used to be in his youth, with a face like that and the implication he was arrested was enough to make every girl’s bad-boy-dream come true.

“What was he accused of?” you ask out of curiosity.

“Not relevant, also sealed records” he breaks eye contact and that’s enough for you to understand he actually knows it and he did not get this information by any legal means.

“So what? The man got a bit of trouble with the law when he was young” you shrug, remembering even your ex husband had a little rich boy “criminal” file, if you can even call the dumb shit he did outta spite for his parents an actual crime.

“HR will find out about this, then you’re going to have to justify why you’re recommending a filled man for a managing position.”

“And I’ll tell them he actually found out about a theft scheme and whatever public-pissing crime he did will surely be overlooked.”

“Darling, you have to start thinking about your image, we’ve been through that before” he tilts his head.

“You don’t like my image?” you question playfully twirling your hair, Nanami smiles for a brief second.

“You know what I mean: your image towards the board, you barely made the votes necessary to be where you are today.”

Indeed, you owned the company and no one could take that away, but the CEO position needed to be voted and you only got the necessary votes because your ex-husband had the strongest voting rights and part of the divorce agreement was that he voted for you, so his, plus a few more other members of the board's votes and you made chief executive officer.

“Fine, then write a contract, he tells everything including testify if he has to in exchange of the supervisor position and I’ll pitch it to the board before any decisions are made” you uncross your arms raising from your seat.

Bringing the board into the conversation made you nervous, most of them don't like you and you’ve been trying to prove yourself for months. Even though you worked your ass off way before marrying the owner all they saw was a hurt ex-wife making pretend.

“Atta girl” Nanami raises too, buttoning his coat back and placing his hands on your tense shoulders. Nanami smells like what you think it should be every handsome lawyer's trademark scent, cause damn that smell would make you sign anything he gives you.

“Don’t worry much, you’re doing great” he presses a bit and you melt.

“Take me out to lunch?” you pout.

“I would love to” he lets go of your shoulder, “Unfortunately I have a hearing, but I'll be back for that meeting soon, okay?”

You sigh in defeat, getting even a few minutes of Nanami’s time for yourself is as hard as it can get, only a corruption scheme to get him to come to your office in such short notice.

“Ma’am” Yuuta says from the speakerphone, “Your ex-husband is calling” you groan, throwing your head back.

Of course he would want to interrupt your moment with Nanami.

“I can get you a restriction order” your lawyer offers jokily (or not).

Aside from being the company's lawyer, Nanami Kento was also your divorce attorney, which you managed to get only after agreeing to give him your company's account if he managed to land you the CEO position. Like everything in this merciless corporate world, it was give and take, you got what you wanted – not surprisingly so, afterall Nanami, even though is not a divorce specialist, is the best. Still, you like to think of him being more than another contractor of yours.

“I appreciate the offering” you smile tiredly, Nanami kisses your hand like the gentleman he is before leaving your office, “Yuuta, I’ll take him– it. I’ll take the call” you sit back behind your desk massaging your temple “Put him through.”

“Hello, beautiful” he greets over the speakerphone in that always so cheerful tone.

“Satoru, what do you want?”

“No chit-chat? It’s the least you could do for me after I gave you the company” entitled as always…

“You didn’t give it to me, you gave it up for the rest of your assets” you remind, already sick of this same discussion over and over.

When the divorce was officially on the table you told Kento exactly what you wanted: the company. The one thing you knew your ex husband would hate to lose, but also didn’t love as much as his lifestyle – which would be brutally affected if you decided to go for the 50% you were entitled to.

So through a carefully written agreement you accepted way less than you were owed in the form of full ownership of the respected construction company and title of chief executive officer.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other. How have you been?”

“Fine. Just tell me what you want, I actually take this job seriously and have important things to do.”

Oh god, he would tease you so bad if he knew about the corruption scheme, and the worst part is that, eventually, he will know. Gojo has ears everywhere around here.

“Nanami” he says simply. You start to look around your office, wondering if he has cameras there.

“You… want… Nanami?”

“Yes, beautiful” he confirms slowly like he's talking to a kid that has just learned the alphabet.

“Why? You know what? Nevermind, I don't want to know. No, you can’t have him” you lean on your chair, denying Gojo gives you great satisfaction.

“It’s not for any bullshit reason, alright?”

“I don’t care, Satoru. Besides, I don’t own Kento, you can approach him anytime” you smile knowing he would never be able to do that without you.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” condescension drips from your phone and onto your desk, “He won’t represent me even if I run for president.”

“So you need legal representation? You’re not calling me from jail, are you Satoru?” you mirror his condescending tone, surely he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Thought you didn't care, or would you bail me out? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t have the money for that” he laughs, arguing was never a thing with him, he would mock you and find a way to make you doubt your accusations. Gaslighting is it? “I’ll give it a shot, just so you know, but this is a great opportunity for you to ask something in return.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Think about it, baby, I’m sure there's plenty of things I can do for you” his tone is lower, more seductive.

“Doubt it” you roll your eyes hearing his chuckle.

“Yeah? When was the last time you had–” 

You hang up.

Then sigh loudly and press the button to talk to Yuuta.

“Yes, ma’am?” you scrunch your nose, still not used to being called that, Nanami said you should let your sweet assistant call you ma'am or madam at least in front of others since you could use the recognition of your authority.

“Please put Geto on the line.”

“Certainly” you wait, stepping out of your heels and digging your toes on the fluff carpet under the table.

“Hi, doc” you salute your psychologist.

“Sugar, I told you there’s no need to address me like that, hurts my feelings” his honeyed voice is everything you need to hear in such stressful times.

“It does? Maybe you should see a therapist to talk about that, I have a great recommendation” you can’t help but smile like a little girl when talking to him, being playful is a way to cope with your harmless crush.

“Just great?”

“He’s the best, I can assure you” he laughs, “Do you have a few minutes?”

“For you, absolutely” your face warms up then you remember the subject of the call and cools down again.

“It’s Satoru.”

‘It’s always Satoru’ Geto thinks.

“He just called wanting something, I told him no and he made that same old joke about me not having money” you huffed.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Helpless? I don't know, he must think I’m poor now or something” which is ridiculous, you’re not nearly close to his patrimony as you used to when you were married but what you have is still fuckload more than what it takes to be considered poor.

“He’s trying to remind you of what you lost when you left him, this is just another manipulation technique, my love. Don’t let him get in your head” you need this as a mantra to hear every time your ex-husband calls, “Did he bring up sex this time?”

“No, but he was about to.”

“And what did you say?”

“Hanged up” you hear him snorting.

“Well, that can work on the phone, but what if you were talking face to face? What would you have done?”

Geto knows a lot about you. Obviously since you pay him to listen while you ramble and complain. Still, feels overwhelming having someone recalling your previous actions, especially the ones you're not exactly proud of.

“Tell him to shut up, throw a stapler on him, call security, threaten him with a restriction order.”

“Would you really?” Geto likes to take a joke you make and dig on that.

“Well, probably not the last two…” 

“Have you been looking up restriction orders?”

“No, that was a joke my lawyer made early. A restriction order would be too… bureaucratic? Also unnecessary, afterall Satoru he never physically hurt me or threatened to.”

“That would be a good way of making him leave you alone for a while since you're not able to fully detach from him” you sat up.

“That's not true! I’ve been doing everything by myself lately, don't even have time to think about him! I’m detached, doc.”

“Wanna know what I think you would have done if he made that sexual comment face to face with you?” you gulp and Geto takes your silence as consent to continue, “I think you would let him go forward with it.”

You make an offended sound but don't fight his statement, “And what would happen next?” he tones the question like a professor trying to make the class complete a sentence, you keep your head down and mouth shut, “You would’ve let him sweet talk you into sleeping with him again.”

“You don't know that” you murmur.

“It’s a pattern, love. This is how abusive husbands keep their wives from leaving them or even telling anyone about the abuse. They use sex to make them think how good it is to be with them despite everything else.”

“Satoru was not abusive.” you defend your ex-husband firmly, “And I already left him!” you defend yourself less firmly.

“And he still thinks he can have you back! You know why?”

“Because I’m a catch that he shouldn’t have cheated?” Geto stays quiet for a few seconds and you feel a lump in your throat forming. The comment was supposed to sound more like a joke but you're still too hurt for that , clearly.

“That as well, but you really think he regrets it?”

“He seemed pretty sorry in the divorce mediation” you murmur recalling his lost-puppy expression.

“The meeting where he signed a paper that would make him lose his company and his wife? Gee I wonder why” the little sarcastic remark made you smile and shake your head, your psychologist using sarcasm against you is quite funny, “My point is, if you really want to be independent from him you ‘gotta stop letting yourself be attracted back like a magnet” you let his words sink in hearing some papers being ruffled on his side.

“I’m giving you homework.”

“Oh no…”

“Find your sexuality by yourself, you can watch porn, masturbate or even better: have sex with someone. Anyone but Satoru, because right now that’s what he’s using to control you.”

“Geto, I don’t know about this. Porn is too gross, masturbation is too ineffective and sex is too…” you trail off.

“Vulnerable?” he completes.

“I guess…”

“It’s been a few months since you last slept with Satoru, right? What’re you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” you rub your face.

“You know what I mean” he's strict and you let out a long sigh.

“I feel frustrated, sometimes stressed and distracted” all caused by the men you have to deal with including the handsome psychologist putting some sense in you. Not exactly what you wanted him to put in, but oh well…

“Exactly, in your current state it’s only a matter of time until you end up on his bed. You gotta decide if you are willing to: find porn that is not gross, masturbate more effectively or let yourself relax and be vulnerable.”

Is easy to like Geto Suguru, he’s handsome, has a sweet voice, he listens without interrupting (manterrupting is a big no-no for this job thankfully). Though sometimes it’s easy to hate him too, you have to remember he's saying what you need to hear not what you want to, even if your ears could use some tickling from time to time.

“Still with me?” he asks after you remain quiet.

“Yes, doc” he says your name in a warning tone, “Sorry, Suguru.”

“All good for our appointment next week?”

“Hm” your thoughts go to the newly found out corruption scheme that will need your attention the following days, “I’ll ask Yuuta to confirm with your secretary alright?”

“Whatever works best for you, love.”

“Bye, Suguru.”

“Don’t forget your homework.”

🏷️ @rinntvrou @sakurasimppp @sad-darksoul — to be tagged in future works of this series please comment “@ me” in this post.

note: i’m not sure if tickle the ears is a known term worldwide but means “saying or suggesting things to please even if untrue”. also i have some big plans for kinktober so next chapter might take a little while to be posted, let me know your thoughts <3

© all content belongs to cursingtoji; do not repost!

[mentos-or-mentoes]

Hihi Pooks, I love your writing and was wondering if you would write for a Mitsuri!reader, like a reader who looks quite weak (IS FEMALE as mitsuri is a female) but is INSANELY strong and quite flexible (which breaks the stereotype of ‘women aren’t strong’). (Helluva boss x Mitsuri!reader) reader who can eat LOADS while staying fit bc yk she’s strong and exercises regularly but could definitely rival a sin with her strength and probably could do some magic with the ‘power of love’ typa shit

yes I mean Mitsuri from demon slayer.

Sorry it took me so long to do this! I had to move, then completely forgot I had a tumblr blog. And now after somewhat of a midlife crisis I have just realized that I infact DO have a tumblr blog. So ye, I apologise for keeping you waiting for so long

I.M.P & Stolas x Mitsuri!reader

Blitzo

First of all, this dude thinks your strength is HOT (take that however you want).

He thinks you're kind, yet knows that if you really wanted to, you could probably beat Lucifer himself in a fight.

Blitzo definetly can, will and has fucked around with your whip-like nichirin sword, but will stop the second you tell him to, well if its serious, if not then he'll keep goofing around untill he manages to destroy something.

He once walked in on you eating what can only be described as a 3 course meal that would be served at a thanksgiving dinner. He is both surprised, and horrified once he finds out that it is the normal amount of food for you because of your extremem muscle density.

Once tried to challenge you to an arm wrestle match just to see how he could compare, and that day he found out that you had an absolutely insane physical strength after winning with just your pinky finger. He will do everything to hide that fact

He has definetly said some stupid threat like ''My grilfriend will beat *hiccup* your ass if I *hiccup* don't'' to someone in a bar while drunk

Moxxie

Being the most realistic out of all of the employees at I.M.P, Moxxie is outright terrified of your strength.

He can and will try to keep you happy, already wanting to hide in fear at just the thought of you having a bad day.

No matter how much you re-assure him, its gonna take a while before he actually begins to think you wont kill someone whenever you feel angry.

He thinks its both impressive and weird how that you can eat so much food without even gaining as much as a miligram. He won't comment on that tho.

He is very curious as to how your weapon works. Y'know since its metal, yet can be used as a whip.

Millie

She thinks your weapon is incredibly cool, and encourages you to use it more often.

She's asked you about how well you think you'd do with other weapons as well.

Either way will still love you, regardless of your choice of weapon <3

You two are a power couple and you can't convince me otherwise (two strong women who can and will kick the ass of anyone who disrespects them in any way, shape or form).

She loves your power of love magic, especially because part of her thinks it becomes stronger with the love you two have for eachother

Loona

This legit feels like the fandom classic of shipping the two characters who are the exact opposite.

She secretly really loves your whole power of love thing, even if she says otherwise.

Has probably jokingly asked you to punch Blitzo one time because he really annoyed her.

She will blush MADLY if you decide to pick her up and just carry her around, but if its in private, she won't complain.

She loves seeing you use your strength in combat.

Stolas

Like Moxxie, Stolas is scared as fuck.

He can and will do EVERYTHING to avoid you when you're angry.

You can convince him, that you're not going to hurt him. But the last thing Stolas is trying to do is becoming bbq chicken because he decided to approach you while you were angry, so no risks

He likes how strong you are, makes him feel safe. Mostly because you'll kick the ass of anyone who dares try to hurt him.

He was surprised when your power of love wasn't some sort of magic to make others fall in love, but is quite literally love turned into raw power.

This 100% isn't worth the wait, sorry it took me so long. But hope it was, somewhat decent, am willing to do a part 2 tho

[maedae-maedae]

Perverted

☆ Reigen Arataka x F!Reader

☆ Chapter 1/3

☆ Genre: Smut

☆ Warnings: NSFW 18+

☆ Contents: Sub!Reigen, Co-workers, Office Masturbation, Humiliation Kink, Caught in the Act, Mutual Pining

☆ Word Count: 6.7k

☆ Summary: A boss and his employee is quite the forbidden love affair. It could never happen, really it shouldn't. He would never let his feelings for you get the better of him and let you see. But Reigens worst nightmare is where you find out about what he allows himself to do and think in private. What would you think of him? And why does the outcome arouse him anyways?

Or at least it does until it becomes his reality.

☆ A/N: i am incapable of being normal about this man.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 - Cause

Reigen was never one to be perverted, especially at work. He knew how to separate business and pleasure. Even when certain cases walked into his office (like a spirit mark on a woman’s breasts, or giving a full body massage to particularly attractive customers), it was important for him to keep his business composure. And maybe he’s had a perverted thought or two in moments like those, but who wouldn’t? The mind wanders. What’s important was that it never left that moment. Once it was over, those thoughts were out of his head, and he would never act on such thoughts.

Something weird has been happening lately, though.

He’s been feeling strange. Having perverted thoughts when he shouldn’t. It started off at home, he started watching porn more often, which he rarely does, and that’s to say of course he started touching himself more often. But then it started happening at work in the morning too. Getting aroused and having a strong urge to relieve himself, sometimes he couldn’t even get his head straight with customers in the middle of a session with him. It was quite troubling to say the least. And recently he realized why it started.

It was you.

Having you in the office wasn’t really that much of a change from before, other than being able to get work done more efficiently of course. He wouldn’t say just having a woman in the office itself did this to him, because that would be gross. But really in the beginning everything was fine. The two of you had normal co-working banter while you did your work, nothing special really. And you were very respectful in the beginning towards him so you weren’t really close. That is, until the “company dinner” together, when all three of you got fairly drunk. After that, the two of you have been closer, like friends more than boss-and-worker honestly.

He cant put his finger on exactly when his perverted feelings started coming into play. Maybe it was the day you gave him a ride home. Being alone with eachother outside the office (like actually alone, just the two of you), he remembers it feeling pretty intimate. And also being extremely nervous, but playing it off cool of course (you could see him sweating).

Ever since he’s started seeing you as more of a friend, his mind started to wander into the danger zone. It’s like his business filter is flipped off when he thinks of you now, and he can’t find it to turn it off anymore. He always keeps it appropriate at work of course. But maybe sometimes when you stand up to get water, or talk to a customer, perhaps you could catch him looking at you for a bit too long. And maybe if you looked over at the wrong time, you would catch his eyes wandering to places they shouldn’t be. That he scolds himself for afterwards every time.

Just like he’s doing now. You’re taking a customers payment and having him fill out some forms from across the office, your back facing Reigen. He can just never get over how good you look in that skirt. It’s not like it’s even particularly short, it’s appropriate length, but the way it hugs your figure….

Work. You’re at work. You need to focus, Reigen.

He turns to the computer again.

The thing is, he didn’t like being like this. And he tried to fight it at first, but it’s like you’ve put some kind of horny spell on him or something. Are regular crushes supposed to make you more sexually driven? He doesn’t think so. There must be something wrong with him.

“Okay, Reigen,” You call out, snapping him awake, “I’m gonna start running the calculations for this weeks total income. Do you need me to do anything else before going home for the weekend?” You ask politely, turning your body slowly to face him, tapping some documents together in your hands. The guy from before is gone now. When did that happen?

He buffers for a second looking at you, and probably for a moment too long, because you turn to look back at him curiously.

“Oh- No, no. You’re all good to go home after this, (Y/n).” He finally replies.

You crack a smile at this statement, looking pleased to hear that. He watches as you turn to sit in your chair and start typing with a newly determined end-of-the-workweek energy. He ends up also smiling at this, managing to turn his attention back to his work as well.

The next hour or so goes by in mostly silence, only the sounds of tapping and the occasional thinking noises that comes from Reigen. The sun starts to set now, orange tinting the room through the slightly-open shades.

You push yourself up to stand, clicking the shut down on your computer, all while smiling. Finally you get to go home early. And not late like you always tend to do.

You alert his attention again at this, and he looks up at you. “Heading out?” He asks.

You smile proudly at him, “Yep! Unless you want me to stay. But if you do, I think I’m qualified to start asking for overtime pay at this point.” You say, partially joking.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no. Really, you’re good to go.”  He reassures you.

You squint your eyes at him, leaning on your hand placed on your desk. “This is suspicious. You never let me go home early.” You accuse him.

He frowns at you, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms. “What am I, some kind of ceo villain? It’s not like I try to trap you here. If you’re done with your work, you can go.” He states simply.

“Yeah, you say that but,” You stand up straight and take your purse, moving around your desk to make your way to the coat hanger. “There seems to always be something you want me to help you with, even if I finish my work. You’re sure you don’t need anything?” You finish and turn to face him again.

“What? Do you want to stay later? If you really want something to do I can make something up and-“

“No! I just…” You cut him short and then trail off, holding eye contact for a weird amount of time in silence.

He tilts his head at you, confused. “What is it? Is something wrong?” He asks, a sudden concerned tone in his voice. You are acting a little strange, so it makes sense. You stand there for a few more seconds without answering.

“Are you going to be going home soon?” You blurt out, and he blinks a few times at the sudden question.

“Uh.. No, I don’t think so. I’ve got some more things I gotta take care of before the weekend, so I’ll probably be here for a while.” He says, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

You frown at this, and he starts to see what’s going on now. It’s cute, and he tries not to smile and make it obvious what he’s thinking. Or at least he puts on a fake, sly smile, prepared to tease you about your reasonable concern instead.

“What? Are you worried about me? That’s oh so sweet of you, but don’t be. I’ll be fine. This won’t take too long. Believe it or not, I don’t especially love working past close either.”  He does his best to reassure you, but you’re still frowning at him, clearly not convinced. “Hey, don’t give me that face. Just go home and get some rest. I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?” He says again, trying to wave you off as he directs his attention back to his monitor, pretending to do something.

Of course he doesn’t want you to go either, but as your boss he really didn’t have anything to give you. And as your— what he guesses could be called “admirer”— he did want you to actually get some rest.

You watch him sadly for a few more moments, and then let out a sigh. You reach for your coat, and he can hear it ruffle as you put it on.

You don’t know why you’re suddenly sad about leaving, since you were just over the moon about it a minute ago. Maybe it’s because lately you get out so late that you end up closing with him most nights. When this happens you’d always be a little annoyed, since no one likes working beyond their hours, but now you’re realizing maybe you actually grew to enjoy it? Or at least to be accustomed to it. Since you feel weird like this about leaving early now. It’s not because you want to work obviously, but you guess…

You just really like being in Reigens company.

You glance over your shoulder again at him before you go for the door. He’s busy at work again. You know he probably has more than he’s letting on, and he’s probably just letting you go since you were so happy about leaving early.

You suppose you’re lucky to have a boss who’s also a friend. So much that he cares more about your health than work. So much that you dread leaving his side…

You spot the heating/ac control panel on the wall next to you. You realize it’s pretty hot, forgetting you just put your jacket on.

“Is it hot in here? Do you want me to turn the heat down for you while I’m on my way out?” You ask, breaking the loud silence.

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s fine.” He mumbles back to you.

“Okay..” You mumble and finally head for the door.

You stop again.

“Oh! By the way,” You start and turn to him again. “I’m gonna go to the supercenter this weekend to pick up a few things. So, let me know if there’s anything I should pick up for the office.”

He cracks a smile, leaning his body to the left from behind the monitor, his chin coming to rest in his hand. “Alright, I’ll make sure to do that. Anything else you wanna ask me?” He teases, giving you a smug look.

You smile back at him, rolling your eyes. You’re about to have a witty comeback, but suddenly remember another thing. You can’t believe you almost forgot.

“Oh! Okay, one last thing!” You hurry over to your desk, and his eyes follow you as you make your way over and bend down to open up a drawer. He’s doing the thing again, his eyes lingering.

You find a folder you were searching for immediately and take out the first paper in it. You make your way over to him, still not looking at him yet. As you approach, he shakes himself out of the daze he had just gone into.

You stand next to him, staring at the paper for another second as he waits for whatever you have to show him. Then finally, you hand it over to him.

“What’s this?” He immediately asks.

“The first client that came in today had a follow-up session request. It was pretty detailed and picky so I had him fill out a form about it. I told him you’d call back about it in a few days.” You inform him.

“Huh. Must be serious if he’s so strict about it. Or maybe he’s just picky, I guess.” He says, skimming over the several paragraphs of writing under the ‘extra comments/requests’ section. “Guess I’ll just have to charge extra. I can give him a call tomorrow.” He finishes with a signature grin.

Then to his surprise, he suddenly feels you next to him, as you bend over him to point to something on the page.

You start to make a comment about something the client wrote, but Reigens mind kind of stops working for a moment. He glances over at you, your face dangerously close to his. He can smell your signature perfume, already familiar with it from the times you’d get close to him, pass him by, or give him rides home in your car. He loves the smell, the smell of you, and he remembers times where he’d wished he could get to experience it even when you’re not around. He starts to let himself admire you as you continue to talk to him about something he should probably be listening to.

“-And I mean I told him that might be out of our control, but he insisted on writing it. So, it’s up to you.” You finish your explanation that you didn’t realize was going unheard. But when you get no response at all, you finally turn your head. Your eyes meet for a moment, and his widen a little, snapping out of his daze again.

He immediately snaps his head forward and nods. “Mm, Okay. Understood. I’ll take care of it, (Y/n). Thank you.” He says quickly and very matter-of-factly.

You blush a little from your one second of intimacy, not expecting for him to have been staring at you like that. You slowly bring yourself to stand again.

He won’t look at you now, placing the piece of paper down next to him and pushing himself further into the desk as he goes back to scrolling on the computer.

You stand there for a little too long, like you’re a stunned animal, just looking at him curiously, wondering ‘what was that?’.

He can feel you still next to him, and there’s an awkward air. Was that too obvious? Did you finally catch him? Gotta play it off.

He clears his throat, glancing up at you again with a straight face. “I’ll take care of it, so you can head out, (Y/n).”

You jump a little, face flushing darker at how awkward you were probably making him feel just standing there in silence. “Oh, right. Thank you.”

“And, you have something in your teeth. By the way.” He adds on bluntly.

Very smooth.

Your brows furrow as you cover your mouth, tongue feeling around for something. Now you feel especially embarrassed.

Of course he just saw something in your teeth, idiot. Why else would he stare like that?

Your internal dialogue as you make your way to the door again, not dragging your pace this time.

He watches you subtly as you go, feeling a bit guilty now.

“Have a good weekend!” He calls out, but you don’t stop or look back, feeling too humiliated at the moment. You just nod and hum a “you too”, and then you’re gone.

He throws himself back, his chair reclining with him, throwing his hands over his face. His hands run back through his hair.

He wishes he had thought of a different excuse, but he was frantic, and he really can’t have you finding out about the way he feels for you. On the likely chance it makes you weirded out and decide to quit, he’d still be able manage same as he did before you were hired, but of course that’s not the reason he doesn’t want to loose you.

Once he gets over his regret or whatever this is, he gets back to work, and then an hour or so passes quickly. He finally takes a break to look at his phone.

No messages.

What was he expecting?

He thinks about you again, and all the different ways the two of you interacted today. This became a pass time for him, thinking about you, and replaying you in his mind. Before he knows it, he’s been staring at the ceiling for 10 minutes. A sigh leaves his lips.

“Damn. I need to go home too… I should wrap this up.” He speaks to himself, pulling his attention away from your temptation.

But as he tries to finish up the last of his to-do list for today, he can’t stop letting his mind wander. Every time he starts to get into the rhythm, his focus gets lost again, and there you are. Work that should’ve only taken about another hour or so turns into 2 hours. And as time passes, his thoughts of you only get more perverted.

This was like clockwork, when he couldn’t get you off his mind, his fantasizing eventually ended up a little X-rated. He finds himself starting to palm at the buldge that had appeared under his pants, staring blankly at the screen in front of him with an unfinished email, totally spaced out now.

He pushes out a shaky breath, gently massaging himself to the thought of you. The fantasy of getting to have you in any context, but right now his fantasy scenario is one that takes place in the office. You tying his hands behind his chair, straddling his lap and having your way with him. His cheeks are bright red, engulfed in his imagination. The PC fan, clock ticking, and Reigen’s unsteady breathing being the only sounds in the empty office. He’s started to work himself up without realizing.

Ding!

The sound of a notification suddenly brings him out of his daydream, his actions stopping all at once, his eyes refocusing. At first he searches the computer screen, thinking he’d have gotten an email, but there’s nothing new. He reaches for his phone, and sure enough, a text notification. From you.

The text reads:

[hey! you still at the office?]

And as he’s reading it, he receives another.

[better not be.. if you end up sick from overworking im not coming in for you! :p]

He laughs through his nose, running his hand through his hair again. He sighs. You’re right, he really needs to finish up here. If only you knew what he was really doing right now.

He was basically finished, just needed to send this last email that he’d already started. Yet, when he tries to finish it again, he just can’t seem to focus at all. He got himself too riled up, and there was only one real way he knew how to fix it, of course.

He contemplates it for a minute. Masturbating in the office… It’s a terrible idea, right? But it’s not like anyone would come after close, and he could just make it quick.

He wastes more time contemplating, but eventually comes to the conclusion that the only way he can finish up today is if he can be relieved of his thoughts of you first. This is a lie of course, he really could make himself power through, but he convinces himself otherwise. After all, he is very convincing.

He gets up from his chair and makes his way to the door, checking to make sure it’s 100% locked. God forbid something unthinkable occurs.

As he’s about to walk back to his own desk and finally get down to “business”, he stops in front of your desk, spotting something.

Your scarf is left on the headrest of your chair, and he doesn’t know how neither of you spotted it before you left. You always take it with you.

He stays frozen in place for a moment. An awful idea occurs to him.

He cant even believe what he’s doing as he saunters over to the chair, taking the scarf in his hand and bringing it close to his face. It smells like you. And your perfume. Just like he thought it probably would.

This is bad. Dangerous, even. He shouldn’t be doing this.

But then he’s sitting down in your desk chair, nuzzling his face into your left-behind apparel laced with your scent, his hand slipping down to massage himself again.

And then before he knows it, his length is out in his hand, and he’s pleasuring himself. In your chair. Surrounded by your things. Everything around him reminds him of you. The cute trinkets on the desk, the colorful paper clips keeping papers tidy, the dog-shaped sticky notes on the monitor with reminders written in your pretty handwriting. And your scent. God, he goes crazy for it.

Sighs start to escape his lips, and then soft moans begin to follow. His pumping gets faster, his hips start to buck up into his hand, his breathing getting more unstable.

This is so so wrong. Horribly wrong. You’d probably kill him if you found out.

You.

The things you’d do to him, if you knew.

His shame only fuels his arousal for some reason. Even though it’d be a nightmare if you walked in right now, for some reason the thought still turns him on. You seeing him desperate and needy like this, his dirty secret finally out. You’d finally know what you do to him, and he could confess that only you make him act like this.

“Fuck… (Y/n)…” He whines into the soft fabric in his hand.

As his imagination runs wild in his mind, he just gets more needy. All this time of touching himself to the thought, but he wants the real thing more than anything. So badly. He wants you— no— he needs you.

This prompts him to start letting out short whines, your name leaving his lips again and again. He keeps fucking his hand, wishing that somehow he’d open his eyes and see you around him instead.

“Please.. please-Ah-.. fuck..“

He starts pleading and babbling nonsense, head tilting back to look up at the ceiling.

Faster. He strokes himself at a faster pace now, sometimes stuttering as his hips jerk up involuntarily.

He cant believe he’s doing this. But it feels so good, there’s no way he could stop.

He’s nearing climax now, and his noises get less controllable as he continues to get immense pleasure from this perverted situation he’s cultivated.

He brings the scarf back up to his face, the scent renewing and giving him a better illusion of you. The fabric helping to muffle himself as well. His eyes squeeze shut and with your aroma so close to him, he can make out the image of you. Wrapped around him, moaning his name into his ear, your plush skin pressed against his own.

Finally, with one last hard thrust, he reaches his climax, his hips thrusting up and locking for a moment as he shakes with pleasure. He’s not able to catch the first line of semen that comes out way more intense than he expected. It gets on the top of your desk, but thankfully not on his clothes somehow. The rest he catches with his hand.

He sits there shocked for a moment, breathing hard and heavy. He hasn’t finished that intensely in a while.

Then he lets himself lean back into the chair to relax for a moment, sighing heavily at his intense relief.

Jesus, Reigen. You’re a fuckin creep. Look at what you’re doing right now.

He thinks to himself in his post-clarity.

He sits there in silence for a while, letting himself wallow in the shame of his actions tonight.

Then he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. He’s ready to just put this behind him, pretend it never happened.

“Alright… Guess I should-“ His own speaking to himself gets cut off as there’s a knock on the door.

He immediately goes into panic mode for a few moments. He almost answers, until he realizes it’s probably a customer. They’ll go away once they realize the shop is closed.

So he stays still and silent.

Then probably one of his worst case scenarios takes place.

He hears the security system unlock, followed by the door opening slowly, and then-

You pop your head in slowly as you look around the room, eventually locking eyes with Reigen. His heart sinks.

Luckily for him, your desk faces the door, so he’s still in the clear from your point of view. Of course not the most ideal situation to be in right now.

“Oh! You’re here,” You step inside, shutting the door behind you. “You didn’t say anything when I texted. And usually I knock before I come in during close, incase you might be busy with something, but-“ You come to a stop when you realize how in-shock— and sweaty?— he looks right now. And just the overall weird tenseness in the air. And-

“Why are you at my desk?” You ask with a slight tilt of the head.

He’s suddenly snapped back into reality, realizing the urgency of this situation. He needs to figure out how to get out of this smoothly, and fast. His hand is literally full of his own-

“Reigen?-“

“HEY!” He startles you with his sudden volume. “(Y/n)! Hey! Funny seeing you here so late I thought you went home already!” He smiles as genuinely as he can manage as he pushes out that regrettable concoction of words.

You blink a few times. “Uh… Yeahhh, well I did! I mean I was on my way, but-“ He nods along as you speak, eyes glancing around for something to wipe off the desk. “-then I found that brand of salt you like so much when I stopped at Daiso and yknow it’s always sold out so I brought it back for you. Never a bad thing to have extra stock right? Just in case.“ You tell him sweetly. He now notices the three bags of salt in your arms. Normally he’d be very pleased with this. In ideal circumstances.

“Wow, look at you! You’re really an amazing employee, (Y/n), yknow that? Have I ever told you that?” He starts to babble, giving you a big fake smile. “Thanks so much, hey, uh- Why don’t you just put them on the couch and I’ll put them away when I’m done over here. You should really head home and actually get some rest for tonight, right?”

“Oh, right.” You remember how badly you want to put these bags down now. They’re kinda heavy. You move over to the couch, hunching over to drop them down.

While you’re looking away, Reigen glances around frantically for any sort of paper towels on your desk. His eyes lock onto your box of tissues, grabbing a handful and quickly wiping the mess on the table, just before you turn back around with a labored exhale. He’s wiping himself off discretely under the desk when you make eye contact again. “So what is it you’re doing over there anyways?” You ask to his dismay. Of course you’re curious about the situation though, since he is in your work space after work hours.

He opens his mouth to answer, and he only buffers for a moment. Almost suspicious, but not quite. “Ah, I just wanted to restart your computer, I do that with mine every once in awhile. Keeps em running smoothly. But yknow then it started acting strange, so I was just checking it out.” He comes up with an adequate excuse on the fly.

“Oh, seriously? Strange how? I can help you, let me-“

“NO!” He practically shouts when you take a step towards him, making you jump. Then he clears his throat immediately. “I mean, seriously, I got it. Cmon, you don’t trust your own boss? Just get home, will ya? You worked hard today.”

His rare compliment/considerateness blinds you to how weird he was being for a moment. You start to grin a little.

“Hmm.. I mean, you’re right. But honestly I’m not sure how comfortable I am with you fixing my computer, considering I was the one who had to fix yours the last time it started having issues.” You say in a joking tone, placing a hand on your hip.

He lets out an awkward, but still believable laugh. “Ahhh, that’s right! BUT I do know my fair share about computers. I did have to function somehow before you got here, right?”

“Yeah, it’s almost unthinkable.” You roll your eyes smiling. “I’ll go home after, but I can just help real quick. I’m sure you were doing something more important before this.”

He certainly was. And he definitely regrets getting off track now. Lesson learned. And as much as he appreciates your eagerness to help him, it literally could not be a worse time for it.

“(Y/n), it’s fine. You just stay right there and watch the master at work-“

“Master? Is there a spirit in the PC or something?” You say sarcastically, crossing your arms.

“Will that convince you to leave it to the professional?”

“Well if that’s the case, maybe I should call Mob?”

Woooow. Okay, that makes him crack an actual smile, his tenseness losing up a little. “What are you talking about? You know what mob calls me, right?” He says cockily, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh whatever, just let me help you!” You say letting out a laugh, like this is some kind of game.

“I don’t need your help!”

“Yeah right!” You take another step towards him.

“Don’t move another muscle!”

“What, are you naked behind the desk or something?” You ask jokingly.

He lets out a loud “Ha!” At your (scarily close) accusation. “I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn't you?” His words come out as quickly as he regrets them immediately afterwards. Both of your eyes go wide at the same time, and a blush quickly surfaces on your cheeks.

His expression and his heart drop the same.

“I am so sorry. That came out wrong.” He apologizes immediately, and he’s genuine because he really did not mean for it to sound that way. With you being both his friend and now secret desire, the line between professional and unprofessional is sometimes a little foggy. He has to remind himself to tone it down maybe.

Your mouth hangs open slightly, trying to think of something, anything to say after that, but you can’t seem to form anything together. You’re not really offended, just embarrassed. What did he mean by that? Why would he think you want to see him naked? Does he know you like him?

Stupid! Idiot! Why would you say that! His mind practically screams at him. He has to say something else.

He clears his throat. “Anyways!” Of course, perfect segway. “Just watch this. Like I said, master at work.” He says quickly and slides himself out of your chair and down under the desk where the PC box sits.

You just kind of stand there awkwardly. You don’t really have anything to say to him anymore, overthinking about whatever just happened.

“Alright, come here.” He finally calls out to you after a few moments and you oblige, coming over to behind the desk. He comes up again, clicking the start button on the PC before he does. And then of course your totally-fine-in-the-first-place computer boots back up.

He gives you a satisfied look. “There. Fresh as new. You’ll thank me later.”

You cross your arms, rolling your eyes. “Wow.. I guess you really are the master.” You reply sarcastically.

“I told you, didn’t I?”

Now being this close to him, you notice again how worked he looks. Like he’d just done a workout or something.

“Why are you sweating so much? Are you sick or something? I told you not to overwork yourself..” You scold, leaning over to take some tissues out of the box off your desk and taking a few to hand to him.

He clears his throat again, hesitantly taking the tissues from you with his free hand that doesnt already have crumpled up ones in it. “Ah, no.. It’s just hot in here. I should’ve let you turn down the heater earlier. I’ve been too busy to bother getting up to adjust it.” He makes another excuse. Truly, he feels gross being this close to you right know, knowing what he just did, and that there’s still evidence of it lingering. Normally this is very much an at-home-only activity. He never thought he’d get himself in a situation like this.

You tilt your head a bit, forgetting that you had even offered to do that earlier. “Oh yeah…” You eyes trail over to the control panel across the room, while Reigen wipes his face, watching your expression carefully.

When you look back over, the two of you makes eye contact for a moment. For some reason, it feels intimate, and Reigen thinks maybe it’s just his imagination still. He should say something to get you to leave though. This situation feels way too weird.

Right before he can say anything though, your eyes finally pull away, coming to spot something on the floor.

You make a slight “Oh!” sound, noticing the scarf you left behind, now on the floor.

Reigen follows your eyes to it and doesn’t stop you when you walk around him to pick it up.

“That’s funny, I left my scarf here. I didn’t even notice I was missing it.” You shrug.

His heart beats faster watching you hold it. Maybe because he can’t stop thinking about what he was just using it for.

He watches as you unravel it and wrap it around you, still filled with anxiety, like you’d sense his filthy use of your precious accessory just by touching it. You look at him when its back on, and you make the same strong eye contact again.

This is so weird. For the both of you.

The atmosphere feels unreal, like you’re experiencing a dream right now, being alone together in the dim-lit office way after hours. And reigen was acting so strange to how he normally is, though you don’t want to address it and let him know you’re that observant to his behaviors.

“Um.. I still have more bags of the salt in my car. I couldn’t carry them all in one go.” You finally say, eyes still connected to his.

“Oh. I can help.” He replies with no real emotion, like he’s in a trance right now.

��No no, it’s okay. You finish up work. I’ll just bring the rest in.” You assure him, still not breaking eye contact.

“I should help you. You already went through the effort of buying and transporting them here.” He says and finally breaks the contact for a moment to glance over at his desk. “Actually… if you want to do something, there’s an unfinished email on my desk. I’ve been trying to write it for a while but I don’t know, I guess I’ve just lost my work energy for the day.”

“Oh! Okay yeah, I can do that. Then,” You begin to take your scarf off again, taking it and reaching up to wrap it around Reagan’s neck instead. He blushes slightly at this, but not flinching or acting bothered at all. You can feel his eyes on you as you adjust it correctly into place. “You need this instead.”

He laughs through his nose slightly, and for some reason, he’s no longer tense or anxious. Smiling at you, and you smiling back, he feels his nerves calm, and he nearly forgets about whatever the hell he was worried about.

The eye contact continues, and it feels like you might… kiss? Or that’s what would happen if this was some cliche movie or something. But neither of you would ever be brave enough to make that risky first move. So you just stand in silence again for a weird amount of time.

“So..” Reigen finally breaks it when he comes back to earth before you do “Keys?”

You jump a little “Right!” You agree and fiddle for them in your coat pocket, pulling them out and handing them over.

Then for the next 20 minutes or so, the two of you say nothing to each other. You finish up his emails at his computer while he comes in and out of the office a few times with the salt.

You’re shutting the computer down when he puts the last sack of bags down with a heavy last heave of breath. You admire the way he rolls his neck and rubs at the muscles on his arms. His sleeves are rolled up and he pulls at his tie to unloosen it a bit as he turns to look at you. You pretend like you weren’t just having questionable thoughts about him.

You offer him a ride home, and he reluctantly takes it. During the ride, the two of you get back to your everyday conversational banter, like nothing happened. And really, nothing did anyways. When you turn the corner to his apartment, the two of you are still laughing at something stupid he just said.

You’d normally pull into the parking area in front of his place, but some idiot parked on the side of the ride is too far into the entrance. Definitely not legal, and also incredibly annoying.

“What the hell. What was this dumbass thinking?” You say in disbelief, gesturing out to the car in front of you.

“Ugh. They’re notoriously bad at parking, everytime I see that car there’s always some type of note on it. Guess there’s no free spaces.” He comments, peeking out the window to try to see into the gate.

“Yeah, but they couldn’t have just parked a little further up the street? This is actually laughably bad. Like illegal, even.” You say to him and just put the car in park where you are on the side of the road. You’re obviously not getting in.

“You think we could get compensation if we reported it?” You ask, turning to him with a mischievous look. He turns to face you and can’t help but mirroring your expression.

“I’ve taught you well. I’m sure I could somehow.” He tells you to confirm your question. “But, if I’m being honest, I can’t be bothered. I just want to sleep right now.”

You give him a disappointed look and he shrugs.

“Well. Then… are you okay walking in from here then?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine walking a few extra feet to my front door, yeah.” He answers you sarcastically and you roll your eyes immediately.

“Oh okay, attitude. Go ahead then.” You tell him with your own tone, but you’re clearly teasing with the smile across your face.

“Wow I can’t believe you’re really going to make me walk so far, (Y/n). After everything I do for you, really. If I-“

“Oh my gosh, gooooooooo!” You say, cutting off his silly monologue and pushing him towards the door with both hands.

“Alright! Alright! I’m going!” He obliges with a laugh and you let him go. When he opens the passenger door you can feel the wave of cold air and you involuntarily shiver. You’re watching him step out and come to stand, when you notice that he’s still wearing your scarf.

“Wait!” You call out on impulse and he turns around to face you, his hand placed on the hood of the car.

You think about it for a second, looking at your scarf around his neck. It looks… cute on him. And you feel like he kinda needs it, he’s not really dressed very warm. Even though he’s only walking a few extra feet like he said. You want him to use it.

You’re about to say it’s nothing and let him take it, but he seems to notice where you’re looking and looks down to notice for himself.

“Oh, right. Here.” He says and starts to take it off, but you stop him.

“No, no! Take it.” You insist. He looks at you confused, eyebrow raising.

“What? Why? You wear this everyday.” He says.

“I have other ones. You never dress warm. Just use it for the weekend and give it back to me on Monday, kay?” You tell him.

“But-“ He starts and then trails off with seemingly nothing else to say.

You just smile at him and give him a wave goodbye. He buffers there for a moment before just going with it, nodding and waving back.

“Thank you.” He says as he reaches for the door.

“Goodnight.” You tell him gently and watch him go even after he shuts the door and walks off. You sit there just for a moment, wondering why you wanted him to have your scarf so bad. And also why he agreed. He has his own, you’ve seen it before, though not often.

Hm.

Well, whatever.

[fan-fantasies]

My Choice

A/N: hey everyone! I know it’s been a while. Life got pretty rocky there for a bit but things seem to be a bit better now. I’ve been wanting to write for a while so thank you to those that have requested ideas! I hope you enjoy it! I switched up the request a bit and I’m a little rusty so I hope it’s still okay.

Summary: Rhea is a mafia boss. She was your boss at your regular day job but fired you out of nowhere. What happens when she shows up at your house one night, bloody and beaten down?

Pairing: Mafia!Rhea x reader

Warnings: blood, nudity

You grabbed the lavender bath oil from the cabinet and set it next to the tub. You lit a few candles and set them around the bathroom. All that was left was to run your bath. You needed to relax after a long day.

Your boss had fired you with no explanation, and while you were given a generous severance package, you were still quite upset.

You were the executive assistant at Ripley Enterprise, working directly under the CEO, Rhea. To say the two of you were close was an understatement, which is why you were even more confused when she let you go.

You knew she was doing some shady things behind the scenes, hearing the rumors all over town about how she was a mafia boss, but you didn’t really care. She treated you and the rest of her employees well.

While she was flirty with you, she never crossed the line to inappropriate. You may have developed a small crush on her during your tenure at her company, but you never acted on it. She was your boss, after all.

You shook the thoughts from your head, not wanting to think about her or your job any longer.

Before you could get the water running, you heard a faint knock from the front door. It was so soft you almost thought it wasn’t real. But when you heard it again, you knew you weren’t imagining it.

You tightened your robe and went to the front door, peaking out the window first. You sighed before opening the door.

“Can I help you?” You asked sharply. Rhea turned around and you gasped. “What happened to you?”

You quickly pulled her inside and inspected her bloody face. Her lip was busted open and she had a cut on her brow. She had some blood on her chest that you didn’t think was hers.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t know where else to go,” she mumbled quietly, staring at the floor.

“Come on.” You pulled her into the kitchen and grabbed a washcloth. You ran it under warm water before pressing it gently to her head. She sucked in a sharp breath but let you continue.

You cleaned the blood from her face and chest, but you couldn’t do anything about the tired eyes and worn down look.

“Thank you,” she said, finally making eye contact. “I normally take care of this myself; I just…didn’t want to be alone.”

“I get it,” you nodded sadly.

“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“Of course- first door on your left.”

She stepped away from you and went to the bathroom.

You had no idea why Rhea decided to show up at your house out of all people, especially when she made it pretty clear she didn’t want you around anymore.

“I should go,” she said, snapping you from your thoughts. “I was interrupting your evening. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay! You don’t have to go. Why don’t I run you a bath actually and you can relax.”

“I don’t want to impose-“

“I won’t take no for an answer,” you said, pulling her back to the bathroom.

You ran the hot water and added the oil. You made sure it was the right temperature before standing back up.

“Leave your clothes, I’ll get you something to change in to,” motioning to her outfit which was stained with more blood.

“Stay, please,” she nearly whispered.

“Are you sure?” You asked, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

She slowly made her way toward you, stopping only inches in front of you. Her fingers began to play with the tie on your robe.

“Only if you’re okay with it,” she said. You didn’t hesitate to nod and you noticed her visibly relax.

You dropped your robe and climbed into the tub, focusing on the water instead of her stripping out of her clothes.

You expected her to sit across from you, but she got in facing away from you and laid herself back against your chest.

You ran your hands up and down her arms, trying to soothe her.

“Why did you fire me?” You asked, unable to keep it to yourself any longer.

“Because I need you to be safe.”

“What do you mean? I was safe,” you told her.

“Things are getting a little dicey and I couldn’t put you at risk. I’m not exactly who you think I am,” she admitted.

“I think I have an idea and it never bothered me. I love…my job. I loved working for you no matter the risk,” you stopped yourself from saying what you truly meant.

“I figured it was easier to cut all ties with you rather than have you taken from me.”

“So you don’t want me in your life?” You asked, unable to hide the pain in your voice.

“Quite the opposite actually. You were the only person I thought of coming to tonight. I needed to see you after the night I had. I just couldn’t be the reason something happened to you.”

“It should be up to me whether I think you’re worth the risk or not,” you stated firmly.

She sat up and turned to face you.

“You’re right. And I’m sorry for taking that choice from you.”

“Apology accepted. Now can I have my job back?”

“No.” Your heart dropped. “Only because I can’t date my employees, and I’d very much like to ask you out.”

“So it’s you or my job?”

“If you want to put it that way,” she shrugged.

“I can always find another job, I can’t find another you,” you said with a small smile. Her face lit up for the first time that night.

She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You went to deepen it and she winced.

“I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize, now get back here,” she said, pulling you back in for more.

“I’m glad you came here tonight,” you said.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

———

Please comment and follow!

[dragonanon]

Y’all I need Jesus 😭 My mind is running wild with an idea that’s a bit of Hellaverse and One Piece crossover.

——

As a succubus working under Asmodeus, your job is to basically portal up to the human world and spread lust amongst the humans. You’re damn good at your job as evidenced by the fact that your numbers always exceed the minimum quota you’re given, so as one of the top employees you have the privilege of getting to be much closer with Asmodeus and Fizzaroli than most other demons working for them; they’re honestly more like father figures to you rather than your superiors, and you welcome being their lowkey unofficially adopted daughter.

Between your excellent work performance and the love and support of your unofficial dads, life is pretty damn easy and straightforward for you…until it isn’t.

You don’t know how the hell it happened, you had been in human disguise on Earth and drumming up some nice lust in a small village, literally just doing you job as normal. Your markvictim, a slim blond with facial hair, had been one of the EASIEST people to ensnare in a long time. You barely had to say “hello” before the man already had hearts in his eyes and was practically falling at your feet, and when you invited him to go someplace private for a bit of “fun”, he damn near died on the spot due to blood loss from a massive nosebleed. Needless to say, you quickly had him in bed and oozing with yummy lust for you.

From there it all happened so fast(let’s be real here, it was probably Luffy’s fault lol), one thing led to another and after a series of shenanigans, your true form and identity are revealed to a group of humans, a group of pirates to be exact…Sure you knew that taking such an easy target would have SOME consequence, but fuck man!

Now standing before the “straw hat pirates”, as they call themselves, in your true demonic form with horns, wings, and tail all out for the whole world to see, you’re stared at in a cocktail mixture of awe, fear, and curiosity by all these humans. With the uncomfortable silence hanging in the air, you feel more naked and vulnerable than you ever have been in your entire life. And as a succubus, that’s saying quite a lot!

You’re in quite the predicament here, and your fear only grows as you realize just how completely and utterly fucked you are here. You can’t just fuck off back to Hell when there’s a whole gaggle of humans running around that now knows about the existence of Demons and Hell, but you can’t exactly kill any of them either. Not just because you’re SEVERELY outnumbered, but you’d ALSO get into some pretty deep shit with your dads.

So that leaves you with one option, offer a deal and hope to Lucifer that they accept. With that plan in mind, a green haired man you’d later come to know as “Zoro”, FINALLY breaks the agonizing silence with a simple question; “What the fuck are you?” and with that, you get to work setting this admittedly ridiculous plan into motion.

As calmly as you can, you explain that you’re a succubus; a demon from Hell just here to do her job of getting people to be horny on main. From there, you explain the predicament you’re all in right now, how you can’t just leave them to their devices because they all know, and have seen too much now. They all seem to tense for a moment as one of them, a man with a long nose who you’d later know as “Usopp”, asks in a shaky voice if you’re going to kill them now. They all breathe a sigh of relief and Usopp actually sobs when you clarify that no, that’s not happening. “I couldn’t kill you all even if I wanted to. Not only do you have me completely outnumbered, but even if I did succeed somehow, it would land me in MAJOR hot water with my bosses. So yeah, I’m not doing that.”

A red headed woman who later introduced herself as “Nami”, responds by asking what it is you plan to do then. This whole time, you’ve noticed that she’s been eyeing the hell out of your Asmodean crystal; a huge magenta jewel set in the center of a beautiful golden cuff that encases nearly half of your left forearm. It was a gift from Asmodeus himself on your first day of work, and it hasn’t left your arm since. You know damn well what the glint of greed in one’s eyes looks like, and you’re all too happy to use that to your advantage.

“Well, given that I can’t leave you all alone and death isn’t an option, I’d like to make a proposal; You all keep your mouths shut about what you’ve seen and learned, and let me continue my work as needed and in peace. You’re not to utter even a peep to another soul not already in this room. In exchange…You’ll have a succubus eternally at your service~”

This prompts the captain who you’ve been told is named “Luffy”, an admittedly boyishly cute man in your humble opinion, to speak up and ask what exactly you mean. Up to this point, he’d just been staring at you in slack jawed awe, but your proposal seemed to bring him back to reality and now he had to sate his growing curiosity and excitement.

A playful smirk paints itself on your black lips as you begin to elaborate, your fangs poking out ever so slightly as you speak. “Well hon, being a succubus, I have MANY powers at my disposal~ You’ve already seen that I can disguise myself as one of you humans, AND charm my way into getting whatever I want from humans. But that’s BARELY scratching the surface of what I’m capable of~ For starters, I can change my disguise as I see fit, what you all saw was just one of the millions of different appearances I can take.” To back up this claim, you quickly cycle through a few different human disguises you’ve used throughout the years; completely changing your form into at least 12 completely different women of all different shapes, sizes, and races. With your point having been made, you shift back to your Demon form and continue.

“That combined with my charming powers means I can EASILY spy and obtain any information you want~ But more than that, I can INSTANTLY take you anywhere you could possibly want.”

That last bit seemed to really pique everyone’s interest, especially Luffy’s; his eyes sparkled with curiosity and excitement as he asked you how that was possible.

“Time to make the hard sale here.” You think to yourself. With a smile, you raise your left arm and with a flourish of your right hand, show off your Asmodean crystal. You have to bite back a laugh as Luffy audibly “oohs” and “ahhs” at the glowing magenta stone while Nami practically salivates over it.

“With this lovely thing right here~ This bad boy is an Asmodean crystal; a mystical jewel bestowed upon me as a succubus working for Asmodeus. With it, I can open a direct portal to ANYWHERE in Hell AND the Human world~”

Zoro is quick to call bullshit, but you’re more than willing to prove otherwise as you respond by asking for a destination, anywhere in the entire world. The green haired man huffs in amusement, and sarcastically suggests an island clear on the other side of the world.

Smirking, you hold your crystal clad arm up close you and with quick, firm, rub of your right hand, the crystal glows brightly and suddenly shoots out a bright beam of light that stops just shy of hitting the wall before a large, diamond shaped portal appears. The edges of the portal glow brightly and the aforementioned island is now CLEARLY visible to everyone in the room.

With a shit eating grin, you strut up to Zoro, who seems bewildered by what he’s seeing as gets up close to check out the portal. With a giggle, you give him a hearty shove, causing him to fall through with a shout and you hop through after him, completely ignoring the concerned shouts of the remaining crew as the portal snaps shut behind you, blinking out of existence like it was never there to begin with.

The room devolves into chaos, with Luffy whining about how it’s not fair that he didn’t get to go too, while Nami yells at him for not being more concerned about Zoro just disappearing.

After a few minutes, the portal reappears with a flash, and out of it hops you followed closely by a noticeably paler Zoro, much to Sanji’s disappointment. The portal disappears again whilst Zoro goes to sit down, and just says “She’s not fucking joking, she really CAN go anywhere.”

The room erupts into chaos again, this time however, Luffy is practically on top of you, demanding you join his crew right now.

You’re a bit taken aback, you’d expected you’d have to list at least a LITTLE more of what you’re capable of to win them over, but this was not an unwelcome surprise in the slightest.

“Are you sure you’re willing to accept my proposition so quickly? I haven’t even finished telling you what all I can-“

Luffy interrupts you before you can finish your sentence saying that there’d be plenty of time for you to talk about your powers later, right now he just wants to start teleporting to different places.

You smile, fangs on full display. “Guess it’s a deal then~ It’ll be a pleasure working with y-“

You’re cut off again, this time by Luffy stretching his limbs around you in a tight hug whilst rambling about all the different places he wants to go right now.

As you’re stood in the middle of everyone buzzing with excitement and curiosity, all you can think to yourself is “What in the Seven Rings have I gotten myself into??”

[emetoflower]

My stomach bug story

Okay hi guys, I posted I was sick a few weeks ago and then logged out of my kink account. I felt weird taking photos/videos, because honestly despite the fact I have a fetish for all this, I do not enjoy experiencing it myself. In hindsight, I wish I had photos...anyways here is a story from part of my stomach bug ↴↴↴

It started with me waking up just feeling “off,” not quite having stomach issues yet, just feeling weird in general. I figured it was my anxiety because it's not unusual for me to feel that way early in the morning before work. I skipped my normal breakfast and just had one slice of toast to get me going. I got 40 minutes or so into my shift when the belly ache started up. It was like a nagging soreness for a bit, until I felt sort of a twist in the center of my gut which told me things were going to get serious. I wasn't sweating, I was feeling more hot and woozy in my arms and my face, while the pains in my tummy felt like they were sloshing and twirling around. I got this slimy, uncomfortable feeling in my throat right before I got sick. It's hard to explain the layout of my workplace, but we have a small office for employees to sit on breaks, and the boss’ office is adjacent to it. He has a security camera filming a live feed of it to his monitor at all times, so he was able to see me when I entered and sat down on the desk chair. This was the peak worst moment of it all, so it's harder to recall. I think I was sitting down, slouched over and rubbing my head, then my mouth filled with spit so I grabbed the trash can and threw up. It tasted and hurt so bad. The first wave was a big gush, followed by some burps because I burp quite a bit when I'm puking. I think I had 2 or 3 more little vomits before one more gush came out, ending that first episode. There were already some discarded papers at the bottom of the trash can, so the puke was soaking into those, and pooling at the bottom of the trash bag underneath them. It was a dark yellow, tan-ish color, with visible pieces of the rice and mushrooms from my risotto from the night before, which made me all the more nauseated to see. I'm not sure if my boss saw me on his camera or not but he could definitely hear it. He came out after, and basically just told me to double bag the trash and drop it in the bin outside, clock out, and feel better.  Luckily my commute is short. I was home pretty quick, and instantly changed out of my dress clothes and into pajamas. I secured a salad bowl from my kitchen to take to my bed with me, then got right under my blankets. My head was swirling with illness and anxiety as I lay down on my side, knees slightly bent and one arm tightly cradling my hurting stomach. I fell asleep for a little while.

[overalls4all]

Hunter didn't quite understand why his boss had sent him a pair of Dickies coveralls. Hunter was just an assistant at the office; coveralls didn't quite seem to fit. But nevertheless, he was instructed to put them on ASAP, and Hunter wasn't the kind to question orders.

The coveralls were a bit snug, but he sent a picture of himself to the boss.

"How's this look, sir?" asked the young man.

"Good boy. Keep those on and wear them to work tomorrow," replied his boss.

Hunter had a healthy fear of his boss. After all, he could fire him for any reason, so Hunter knew he had to stay on his best behavior at all times. Yet, these coveralls seemed a step too far. He wasn't even at work, yet his boss was telling him how to dress, even sending him workwear to put on. But rent is always due, so Hunter complied with any complaints, as usual.

The next day, Hunter arrives at the office only to find all the male employees wearing the same black coveralls, like some kind of uniform. Most of the office workers looked out of place in coveralls. Most were the bookish types, not exactly ready to spend all day doing manual labor. The boss gathered them all for a staff meeting.

Hunter sat awkwardly in his coveralls. They were a bit tight, but he didn't want to question his boss' decision. He could tell his coworkers were just as uncomfortable, but everyone knew better than to question the boss.

"I hope you all like your new uniforms, because these coveralls will be mandatory for each and every one of you from this day on. I'm sick of seeing you whatever passes for men's fashion these days. Coveralls are proper men's clothes. You are here to work and obey, and these coveralls will help remind you of that," explained the boss, loudly and sternly.

Inside, Hunter wanted to cry out, but he knew it was useless. He snapped to attention as his boss continued.

"And anther thing: your manliness is being wasted in this office. That's why you will all spend two days a work doing manual labor, like true men. To aid you in that, you will also be required to wear rubber boots and gloves."

Hunter felt dizzy; this was all happening so fast. Why was his boss doing this to them? As confused as he was, Hunter found himself rising to form a line with his coworkers to receive their rubber boots and gloves. As he approached the front of the line, Hunter instinctively looked down to submissively avoid his boss' gaze.

More changes followed. Hunter learned that the first hour of each shift was to be spent doing his "programming". He had to sit at his desk and listen to an audio file where his boss repeated orders and mantras like "Work. Obey. Conform." The whole thing weirded Hunter out, it was like he was being brainwashed.

This new normal continued for the next few weeks. Hunter would don his coveralls each morning, listen to his programming when he got to work, and then obediently follow orders until the end of the day. At first, he would take off his uniform as soon as he could. But slowly, he would take his time going home, even running errands in his coveralls. His boss' words seemed to bounce in his head "Work. Obey. Conform." Hunter found himself muttering it under his breath.

Twice a week, Hunter was forced to work as a street cleaner, working in his coveralls, boots and gloves for the whole city to see. He couldn't help notice how other men looked at him. He was pathetic looking in his uniform, which made him look even more submissive and weak.

The next Monday, Hunter opened his programming to hear his boss' words: "All employees must adhere to the new identification policy. Your new employee ID number is HU-132. Your old name is obsolete. Forget it now."

And like that, HU-132 couldn't remember his old name. But each time he heard his number, he felt a connection. This was who he was. He found himself standing up straighter in his coveralls, his fear and anxiety slowly succumbing to obedience and conformity.

"Work. Obey. Conform." HU-132 said without thinking.

His boss had given him orders. He didn't want to disappoint Boss. Boss was making him a better man, more obedient and compliant. To wear his uniform coveralls was a symbol of that obedience. Whatever Boss wanted, Hu-132 would do without question or hesitation.

Work. Obey. Conform.

Credit to @transformmeintosomeoneelse for the pictures!

[absolutebl]

10 BLs where the Main Couple has NO Prior History

Or at least, very very little of it. The opposite of the very popular LTP (long term pining). 

This post in response to a question posed by the most excellent @luuhecia​ who asked: Soooo here's my plea: do you have any recommendations of shows where the people involved have no previous history?

In other words we get to watch them meet and fall in love with no prior history on either side. So I eliminated those were there was a made crush even if only recently (e.g. Light on Me, Takara & Amagi). 

1. Seven Days

They know of each other but just in a normal high school way. No pining. The story is basically about the 7 days it takes them to fall in love. 

2. Color Rush

They are destined for each other but they have never met before. 

3. Semantic Error 

In fact, part of the premise is a “hunt for the unknown boy who made him fail to graduate.” 

4. To My Star 

They have a couple of meet cutes, accidentally shack up together. 

There are actually a TON from Korea. 

5. Addicted 

The new kid in high school. They have a family connection (it turns out) but they didn’t know each other. 

6. Restart After Come Back Home

We see them meet for the first time and then go on from there.

7. HIStory 2: Crossing the Line 

They meet by crashing into each other because... Taiwan. 

8. My Tooth Your Love 

Just so cute. 

9. Eclipse

There are a lot of good ones from Thailand but I chose this because it’s part of the plot, how they know nothing about each other. 

10. Love by Chance 

Just the greatest meet cute ever. 

NEW ENTRY

11. The Eighth Sense

Actually uses the fact that the DO NOT have prior history with each other as a plot point and for character development. It’s addressed directly ind dialogue. Very nicely done! 

Others that didn’t make my top 10 but still have no prior pining

China 

Advance Bravely 

Capture Lover

My Esports Genius Brother - love at first sight 

Japan

Candy Color Paradox 

Given - love at first sight 

His the series  - love at first sight 

Senpai This Can’t Be Love (he has a crush on him but they haven’t actually met each other) 

Silhouette of Your Voice

Kieta Hatsukoi

My Beautiful Man 

Mr Unlucky - love at first sight 

Korea 

Kissable Lips - fated mates

Mr Heart

My Sweet Dear 

Love Class 

Behind Cut 

Shoulder to Cry On 

The Lover - cohabitation 

Unintentional Love Story 

Tasty Florida - love at first sight 

 Roommates of 304 

All the Liquors

Blueming

New Employee 

Nobleman Ryus Wedding 

Oh Boarding House 

Ocean Likes Me 

Tinted With You 

Wish You - love at first sight 

You Make Me Dance  

The Philippines 

Like in the Movies

My Day 

Rainbow Prince 

Taiwan 

Because of You 

Be Loved in House I Do

Craving You - love at first sight 

HIStory 2: Right or Wrong 

See You After Quarantine? 

Vietnam

Hay Rival I Love You 

My Lascivious Boss - one night stand

Nation’s Brother - one night stand

Want to See You 

You Are Ma Boy

Thailand

(not all are chronicled, there’s too many, main couples only) 

Ai Long Nhai - love at first sight 

Bite Me

Between Us - one night stand 

Coffee Melody

Love Mechanics - one night stand  

Ghost Host Ghost House

Gen Y - love at first sight 

KinnPorsche (family connection but they don’t know about it) 

La Cuisine 

Tale of 1000 Stars - Well there is the heart connection but it’s not quite the same thing

Love in the Air 

Love Area 

My Engineer 

Meow Ears Up 

Moonlight Chicken - one night stand 

My Ride - GREAT example of well developed meet cute and then romance 

Never Let Me Go

Not Me - erm, it’s complicated 

Oh My Sunshine Night 

Oxygen - love at first sight 

Paint with Love

Puppy Honey 

Siew Sum Noi

Something in My Room 

Top Secret Together 

TharnType 

Tuxedo 

Unforgotten Night - One Night Stand 

Vice Versa 

What Zabb Man 

YYY 

This post as of April 2023, not responsible of BLs that fit this criteria after that date. But feel free to leave a comment or repost with more additions. 

(source)