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ridingthatd · 3 months

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𝐏✘𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

geto, gojo, nanami, sukuna, toji, choso...

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐏...

❝ this is a really kinky work about jjk man.

read at your own risk. ❞

there eyes were glued on you. never leaving you as they stroke their fat, leaking cocks painfully.

it was getos idea to show his friends how your sweet little pussy take his cursed orbs one by one so well.

the only sounds that filled the room was your heavy whines, moans. and the wet sound of your pussy sucking in every orb getos shoves inside you.

this is how you got here. being their cumdump.

a cum dumpster that's what you liked being called. that's what always had you squirting, over flowing with juice. that's what always had you drooling. mouth over flowing with your own sloppy spit- spit that was mixed with their warm cum that they stuffed inside your mouth.

you were choking struggling to keep their boiled seeds that filled your mouth from spilling- nanamis and tojis hot cum that they spilled directly under your tongue to keep you from swallowing it. tears running down your face as your whole body thrust upwards- reminding you of the two fat cocks that were gaping your tight pussy wide open. choso had you sat on his thick thighs, your back smashed into his chest. you can the hardness of his red, sensitive nipples rubbing against your back as he thrusts in.

while sukuna figure was in front of you. his rough hands holding your legs up, pushing then tightly close to your front body as his leaking cock throb inside of your pussy, close to chosos cock. rubbing against chosos cock with each slam of his hips. both of your legs were smashed close to your face, giving you no room to escape the two inhuman cocks that was ripping you apart. t

he feeling of being gaped open was to much- the feeling of their warm, sloppy cocks struggling to enter your tight pussy as it sucks them tightly in was to much. it was all to much that it had you sobbing, drooling and spilling the cum out of your mouth as you hiccup, forgetting about the order of keeping it stuffed in your mouth that they gave you.

your mind was foggy, eyes blurry with tears, your lips were parted, jaw hanging open as drool of spit and cum drips down. your ears were filled with sound of wet, sloppy noises your cunt and their cocks made. your whole body was shaking, trembling. you were so fucked out of it that you didn't feel the sharp sting of the slap that was just placed on your cheek causing your head to snap to the left. "

you fucking slut, who gave you the permission to spill it from your mouth". geto harshly growls out after he slapped your face with his rough hand. just to grab you roughly by your hair and force your face to meet his. but you weren't even lookin at him, eyes crossed focusing on the feeling of the two cocks inside of you.

gojo laughs out loudly. "pathetic little slut to drunk off cocks to even look at you". toji chuckles before he swipe his thumb on your bottom lips, scooping the cum you spilled and shoving it into your mouth. he groans once you start sucking on his thumb immediately. he already came two times inside your little ass few minutes ago but he's still hard as rock.

your eyes shoot out of your head, your body trembles as you feel the curse orbs that geto placed inside your ass twirling around, consistently hitting your g-spot. you can feel the cum of gojo and geto that they spilled inside your ass sliding against the orbs making it more sticky and sloppy.

"s-suguru! no! no! no more please-" you sob out, you know geto was controlling them on purpose. he smirks as you sob out, pleading him to stop simulating you. "fuck! i can feel the juice of the orbs dripping from her ass". choso moans out, so close to squirt his own juice out just as close as sukuna was.

your eyes roll back as you feel robs of cum being shoot inside of you, choso burry his face into your neck, huffing like a dog. you can feel the heatness of his flushed face.

sukuna plugs his cock out of you, his eyes staring at the cum that spilled out of your pussy into the bed sheets in process. he scoffs before grabbing your face with his hand.

"lick it". his deep voice commands you to lick the cum that spilled off the sheets. you shakly get off choso, just to lean down and push your ass up into his face, choso groans as he starts eating your ass while your tongue peak out and suckle on the fabric of the sheets, trying to drink the cum that spilled in.

next thing you know, you are kissing sukunan, passing his cum from one mouth to another all while nanami leans in, close to abused, puffy pussy that was barely recognizable just to push your legs wide apart and spit on it. his eyes pierced on the way the string of spit lands on your swollen clit.

just to blow the smoke of his cigarette into your pussy. he takes the barely lightened cigarette and place it on your wet clit, causing you to feel a painful sting. you jerk away from sukuna and moan out before you squirt all over nanamis face. your juice spraying all over him.

after that all you can see was black.

tag list: @dellysrants @valentine-day-likes-rain @huboi @littleakuma28 @warrior-of-justice @reyyyyyleviii @fhvfgfuhhhbvhjn @neoxghoul @that-goth-bisexual @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha @enhypen-scholarship @celcstia @xuanzangg @mamas-heart @vih-rodriguesz

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htylmg · 11 months

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🙃

#feeling v v inherently unlovable tonight #ik breaking up w him was the right move and all he was. not good #but now it’s just another person in the rearview mirror and tbh im feeling like that’s all im good for is a few days #i just. want something permanent. at the risk of sounding pathetic #im not necessarily saying that he’s the one for me it’s just breaking it off w him just made me feel like shit + exhausted #when’s it gonna be my turn. yknow #delete later #or not. let me find this post later and cringe #🐋.txt

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hor3nee · 5 months

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• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #dad!sukuna #jjk #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #no use of y/n #true form sukuna #dad sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna jjk

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

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Levi being separated from his wife for years after joining the scouts but finding his way back to her

Pairing: husband!Levi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,7k

Synopsis: Just before Erwin was about to catch you in the underground city, Levi begs you to stay behind and promises to return. Years pass, years in which he never reached out once. Until an unexptected visitor knocks on your door.

Warnings: heavy angst to comfort, the last part is not proofread so have mercy, please let me know what you think as this is the second aot fanfic I'm posting <3

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @levislegislation

Click here for a cute little spin off

You move with almost frightening speed around the countless buildings, escaping the hands of the blonde male behind you by razor’s edge. Why the hell are the survey corps so much stronger than the military police? So skilled with the 3D manoeuvre gear that it’s almost scary, haunting after you so fast that it’s getting harder and harder to escape their grasps. But everything is going according to plan, right? You need to get yourself caught, you need to join the survey crops, you-

“Move to the left. Just keep going and don’t look back. You are skilled enough to escape them alone.��

Your glossy eyes dart towards your husband in disbelief. No, he can’t be serious about what he just said. That would mean…

“But we’ll get separated”, you argue.

Levi is fully aware of what he’s asking from you. But given the neck-breaking speed and the skills of the people behind you, the risk of getting caught is greater than the benefit of staying together. And that man…Even though he promised you the world, Levi could tell by the sound of his voice that he isn’t trustworthy. He might go to hell, he might die in the process, but you.

There is absolutely no way in hell he’ll risk your life.

At least you’d be safe, even if it means he’ll be away from you for some time.

“I never intended on taking you with me, (y/n). If we’ll get separated, I will come and find you here. I promise.”

His words don’t make any sense while you shake your head in mistrust. But you agreed on going together, all four of you. Why would you stay behind, why would he even suggest something like that?

“(y/n), I don’t want to lose you because of a mission. Please, move left.”

You don’t know what to do, mind completely clouded by anger, fear and uncertainty. You would trust your husband with everything, laying your life right into his hands. But this? This means you might never see again, this means he’ll leave you here for who knows how long, this means your husband could lose his life for freedom.

“But what if I lose you?”

“You will never lose me. I promise I’ll come back to you, just trust me with this one. I love you, (y/n).”

You take a deep breath, the next intersection coming closer and closer. It’s time to make a decision.

Will you move left like Levi begged you to or will you move right and followi him like you initially planned?

With a load of gas you propel yourself past a building, moving with horrendous speed down the tight side streets of the underground.

One last glance. One last glance into the eyes of the man who is the only light in your life, one last glance into the cold blue eyes of the man who is now chasing after him.

“You better come back to me, Levi Ackerman”, you mutter to yourself while holding back bitter tears.

-a few years later-

“Take it or leave it. I will find someone else who’ll buy it.”

“Are you up on sale too?”

That’s enough. With a swift motion, you pierce through the man’s dirty hand with your knife before turning around and leaving his house in company of his pathetic screams.

It’s been years. Years since Levi go taken away from you by that blonde man with blue eyes, years since he promised that he’ll come back.

But he never did. With fast and skilled motions, you swing around, making your way back home before the military police starts getting on your nerves again.

Everything seems so cold since he left. Your worn-down house, the bed you used to share, your whole fucking life. Who knows what happened after they got caught. Are all of them still alive? Maybe something went wrong, maybe they die-

No. You shake your head vehemently. This is simply not possible. Levi Ackerman would never die through the hands of a titan, let alone a member of the survey corps. That’s absolutely impossible, unbelievable to say the least. Maybe he started a new life on the surface with his friends, lying under the sun right now while eating the most exquisite food.

Good for him. If you weren’t still stuck in this hell.

A few harsh knocks on the door rip you out of your dreams.

“Who the hell is this?”, you grumble to yourself.

You don’t expect any visitors today. To be exact, you never expected anyone to visit you. So who could this be? The man you threatened before? The military police officers you stole from? Whatever, you will figure it out somehow.

But when you open the door, you aren’t greeted by the face of a disgusting officer. No, you stare right into ice-blue eyes.

“When will you finally let me get her?”

He missed you every single day since you parted your way back then in the underground city. How are you? What are you doing? Are you even alive? Levi’s hands clenched into fist just by the thought of it. Countless lonely night that felt so empty without you by his side, countless people he lost during the process. If you knew what happened…

“Is a woman really that important to you? She must be someone really special if you’re still asking about her”, Erwin commented, staring at the captain sitting in front of him with eagle eyes.

Yes, he does remember you. The girl who took the left path back then, the only one him and his squad weren’t able to catch.

“She is my wife. If you don’t allow me to get her, I will quit my service”, Levi suddenly barked at his commander.

How unexpected. Even though Erwin could tell that you’ve meant something to him when he decided to leave you in the underground city, he never thought his relations to you would go that deep.

“Fine, if that’s what you wish I’ll go and escort her.”

“I will get her myself-“

“You have a job to do, remember? I will take Moblit with me, it shouldn’t take long, given she cooperates.”

Did he even have a choice? One look into Erwin’s face showed him more than urgent that this is nothing to be discussed. And even though he hates to admit it, somehow Erwin is right. These brats were unpredictable, along with Hange.

“Fine”, Levi finally grumbled.

As long as you’ll finally be back in his arms, he won’t complain.

“You”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Your whole body begins to tremble in thick rage, eyes darting right through his spoiled soul. His eyes haunted you in your dreams, how he talked to your husband back then, how they pushed his gorgeous face into the dirt. You will never forgive him. No, nothing in the world could make you forgive the blonde man in front of you who stole your life away from you so cruel.

“Where is Levi?”

“Maybe if you calm down-“

“SHUT UP”, you immediately interrupt the other man behind him.

“You will pay for all these fucking years I had to live without him. You will pay for every sleepless night, for every tear that I cried. You will pay with your own pathetic life!”

With a swift motion, you lower the knife out of your sleeve, ready to hit his carotid artery with full force.

Until you suddenly fall to the ground, the last thing you are able to see being this asshole’s boots before everything turns black…

“I…hate…y-“

Silence, darkness, nothingness.

“You didn’t have to hit her this hard. Levi will definitely make you pay for punching his wife”, Erwin comments dryly before gently lifting your numb body over his shoulder.

“His wife, huh? No wonder she’s so feisty, what a pain in the ass”, Moblit remarks.

“I understand her anger. After all, I hid her husband for multiple years from her. Let’s see how she acts when she wakes up…”

-back at the base camp-

“Who’s this woman?”, Eren mumbles into his best friend’s ear, staring at the lifeless female body laying in front of Erwin’s feet.

“They just came back with her. But nobody seems to know who she is”, Armin clarifies.

Everything hurts. Your back, your head, your limbs feel like falling off every second. You feel like hit by a horse…Did the military police catch you? Did someone come for you? Impossible…

You rub your head, lids blinking against the harsh light. Where the hell are you? And why is it so damn bright here? This definitely isn’t the candle in the middle of your bedroom.

You lift your trembling limbs off the ground, groaning when a new wave of nausea rolls over you. God, why do you feel so bad? You can’t even remember what happened last. You were at the underground, you made a deal with that asshole, you returned home, it knocked.

It knocked.

Your eyes widen in pure horror when his face lights up in your head. He. He was there. The man who stole your life from you, the man who took your husband with him.

“I’m glad you’re awake, he should return every minute-“

“You.”

Your eyes roam around without an aim until his cold blue eyes meet yours.

“You took everything from me!” you scream on top of your lungs.

The air around you heats up immediately, all the voices quieting down in an instant when your trembling index finger darts towards commander Erwin Smith.

“You took my life from me, you stole my husband and now you kidnap me! I’ve had enough, you’ll pay for all your sins, for how miserable you made my life! Do you know how many lonely nights I begged for him to return, that I even started praying for him to come back home to me? You promised freedom but caged me to the underground in my hopeless dream of him returning someday!”

Again, you shoot towards him with your knife in your hand. Fuck, you hate the way hot tears start to sting in your eyes and take your sight, but you can’t help yourself. This man in front of you is the epitome of living hell, the reason you suffered all these goddamn years. You aim for his neck, ready to slice him open like a fish along with a toe-curling scream that escapes your trembling lips.

“Don’t.”

The sheer force of a pair of fingers wrapped around your wrist is enough to make you stop. This almost sounded like…

“Levi.”

“I have to explain all this to you calmly. Please put down your knife, (y/n).”

“You have some fucking nerve”, you mutter under your breath, eyes darting towards him for the first time in years.

He looks just like you remember him, figure roaming over you for a few inches, eyes as calm as the ocean, hair neatly trimmed. Yes, he is just as attractive as you remembered.

And alive.

And this is the first time you see him, after so many years.

“Where have you been all this time, huh?”, you cry out.

You free yourself out of his grasp, now storming towards him.

“What about the promise you made back then, that you’ll return to me?”

Your hands push against his firm chest harshly, fists slamming over and over against his tight muscles while all he does is standing there.

“You left me without saying goodbye, without even thinking about me twice. Do you know how much I cried that day, how much I missed my fucking husband?”

Tears stream down your face like a waterfall, voice so hoarse that it’s hard to cough out a single word that makes sense.

“Why didn’t you come back? Why did you leave me in the dark? Why-“

He can’t hold back any longer. Before you continue your ramblings, before you are able to hit him again, Levi wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed the simplicity of holding his wife in his arms.

“I love you, (y/n)”, he breathes against your ear.

You see stars, feel like fainting, want to push him away while all you want is to be held at the same time. Countless nights you imagined what it would be like to meet him again, countless nights you pondered about his life, where he might live, what he is doing.

And now he’s standing in front of you, pressing you tightly against his firm body while all you can do is break down and cry in his inviting arms.

“Back then, I have asked you to move left because I feared what lies behind the walls. And I was right, (y/n). The things I saw, the countless lives the titans took. Isabel and Furan, they… They died on our first expedition. It wasn’t safe to drag you into this world. Even if I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms again, I figured it would be easier to know you live as far away from the titans and me than being in danger…”

“You idiot”, you spit into the face you learned to love long ago.

“I would rather die by your side than live alone at the safest place. Don’t you understand that all I wanted was to be with you?”

Your words echo through his mind, the past years replaying themselves in front of his eyes like a movie. It’s been so damn long. He should have asked about getting you sooner, he should have moved hell and earth to get you out of the underground.

“I’m sorry about all those years, (y/n). You were the only thing on my mind this whole time, I was longing for your touch, for your presence. I wrote a list of things I want to show you. I know how much I’m asking for, but please forgive me, please be by my side right here and now.”

Is it really this simple? Is one look in his lovely face enough to forget all those years you’ve waited for him? Your heart pounds hard against your ribcage, all pairs of eyes seem to be set on you. What are you supposed to do?

“A simple sorry won’t take away all those years I’ve waited for you.”

Levi swallows hard, this usual cool composure slowly but surely breaking away. Fuck, he messed up. He should have gone after you immediately, he should have ignored Erwin’s advice. If you leave him right here on the spot…His eyes widen in thick fear. No, this would completely tear him apart. After all, you are his precious wife, the love of his life, the only reason he kept going despite all the people that died in front of his eyes.

“But I won’t live in the past with regrets. I was hoping forward for this day so long, let’s enjoy it.”

And then you return his hug, wrapping your arms around his ribcage like you used to. Levi lets himself fall into your touch, soaks in the decent smell of citrons on your clothes. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed you.

“We will never return to the underground, my darling. Your place is right here under the sun.”

You press your lips against his hungrily, soaking up this precious moment. This is exactly how you imagined your reunion. Maybe a few years earlier, maybe being escorted by himself. But god, you can’t help but get lost against his mouth, your fingers re-discovering the valleys of his well-toned body.

“Huh, what’s going on here? HUH, DID I MISS SOMETHING!?”

Levi slowly removes his lips from yours, cold eyes staring darkly behind you. You follow his gaze, looking directly into the way too near face someone wearing glasses.

“This is my wife, shitty four-eyes. Can you stop bothering her?”

“WHAT? You never mentioned anything about a wife! Oh, what a gorgeous woman she is! And you’re just as small as Levi himself. Huh, maybe that’s what comes with living under the ground, right? But don’t worry, you will be just fine here! Apart from some titans here and there, and maybe titan shifters and don’t forget those-“

“Shut.Up.”, Levi hisses through gritted teeth.

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mariasont · 1 month

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Office Sleepover - A.H

a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever

might make this a mini series?

part two here!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3

wc: 3.8k

Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?

It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.

"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"

Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe.

Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."

True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.

You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.

The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.

Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"

"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."

"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"

"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.

Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."

He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.

Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.

There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet.

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly.

You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.

His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment.

"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?"

You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.

"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"

"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."

Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.

A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.

The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.

Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door.

A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought.

Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.

With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside.

His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.

It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.

The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.

Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.

He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.

He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet.

A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.

He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content.

As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it.

"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."

In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.

"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."

"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.

Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."

With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.

"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"

"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"

"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."

"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office.

In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough.

You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.

Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.

With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest.

The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl.

Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.

Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch.

He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.

The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.

"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."

Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?"

In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away.

As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."

The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"

Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."

You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."

Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.

Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.

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