#i am lucky to be back on this site

[rumandstars]

my sleeping medication has me GOOFY

i love y'all on here. rays of light, the lot of you <3

if you're reading this, thanks for being you!

[collar-shocked]

//Great time to remind everyone IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, YOU SHOULD BE NOWHERE NEAR HERE. You're only a kid for so long, you get to be an adult forever. MAKE IT LAST. FRIGGIN' WAIT TO ENGAGE IN CONTENT LIKE THIS.

//No one can protect you if you refuse to let them. These games and this fandom and content have 18+ tags on them for a REASON, and it's to PROTECT YOU. You're not cool, you're not edgy, you're not special, you're not grown up for ignoring warning signs that are set there to KEEP YOU FROM HARM, you're just an idiot for exposing yourself to that ON PURPOSE.

[americanphancakes]

I wanna talk about my mind for a little bit

I was gonna save this until after I posted the last Wingless Angel chapter but I can’t post it yet. Pretty sure my mind wants me to get this out of my system first.

So hi everyone, how are you? How have you been? Honestly if you’re still following at all I’m delighted.

I don’t want this to come across as some excuse for all the unfinished fanfic I left behind 3+ years ago, which is why I wanted to publish WA first, so I hope you don’t take it that way. But I ended up stumbling upon an aspect of my mental health that I’m still trying to address and since I never really saw anyone post or talk about my particular issue before very recently, I wanted to share it in case it resonates with anyone.

(Clearly stuff has changed, this is where I'd normally put a "read more" but.... I guess that's not a thing anymore?? Hopefully this isn't a huge annoying wall of text on everyone's dash, oof.)

I’ve posted before about my ADHD. I’ve been getting treatment for it for 10 years now, and for all that time, medication & other coping mechanisms have been helpful to a point, but only to a point. There was still something left that was keeping me from functioning, and I couldn’t tell what it was. All I knew was that I had no will of my own, and I’d spent the last 10 years trying to create situations where the people in charge were asking (or implying that i should do) things I considered good to do. “People in charge” meant anyone besides myself. If someone was not me, they automatically had authority, simply by virtue of being someone external to me.

I did a lot of research trying to find something that matched up with my experiences & feelings, even partially, and I looked into things like PDA autism and even just the people-pleasing habits common with other ADHD folks.

At some point, with therapy, I did learn how to say “no” to other people’s demands of me. I learned to set boundaries. But I was still profoundly uncomfortable with dictating what I was going to do, especially if anyone else was ever going to be aware of it.

When I was a little kid, i was told “no” constantly, and that’s not hyperbole. I’ve cited the story many times of falling in love with the violin when I was 9 but immediately being told “No, you’re going to play the flute.” So I played the flute, but without any passion for it I couldn’t figure it out and I quit, and my mom never stopped making me feel guilty about it. But that wasn’t the only example of that kind of thing. I wanted to play soccer; mom said play basketball, so I played basketball. I wanted to play piano; mom bought me a guitar and my sister got the electronic keyboard. (We eventually switched, but I never felt like I could fully commit to playing the thing). I wanted to learn Spanish or Japanese in high school; mom told me to learn French, so I took four fucking years of French.

My feelings and wishes were effectively not a factor in what I was allowed to do, what goals I was allowed to pursue, unless I was staying in my room and out of everyone’s way (and even then I had to make sure I jumped up to do what was asked of me if I got called from another room). Eventually I learned, as a survival mechanism, to just obey. It wasn’t worth fighting anymore because I was systematically robbed of my individuality at every turn. Something happened when I was 13 that I will never talk about publicly and she played "good parent who has her kid's back" for about 5 minutes before siding with the bad guy. I brought it up years later and she was mad I'd never gotten over it. And all that is on top of being raised to be a "good little capitalist drone" who needs to be perfect and efficient at all times. I was never supported. I was never given grace. So I never gave grace to myself, because if your own parents don't give you grace & time to learn and be flawed, then clearly you don't deserve any, right?

I finally cut my mother out of my life not long after the pandemic began, a few months after having gone no-contact from my father (mostly due to his casual racism & transphobia, which cost me at least one very close friendship when I was a kid, and was unkind to my child in a way I could not abide). My immediate family - spouse and kid - are the only family I have left now. And it sounds tragic on paper, because it is, but until I finally got away from my mother's voice in real life I couldn't filter through the recordings of her voice in my mind so I could finally throw them away. And that knot is still being untied. Honestly this is 10 years into a very long mental health journey, when you think about it, but I wish I'd cut my mom out of my life a very very long time ago. I wasn't angry about lost time when I got my ADHD diagnosis. I was angry about it when I realized that yes, this had been abuse, and I hadn't been courageous enough to get away from it sooner.

Because that dehumanization resulted in me having no will power of my own, and that extended as far as simply not wanting anything anymore. I like things, sure, but anything I WANTED for myself was out of the question, especially if it involved other people in any way, but honestly even solo pursuits became impossible for me to will myself to do. For right now, when I have something I want to do, I'm telling my friends & husband to order me to do it. Because I won't do it otherwise. And it's a potentially dangerous workaround, but it's all I have for now. I and my therapist are hoping that once my brain registers that what other people are telling me to do is aligned with what I want to do, maybe it won't depend on other people's commands anymore and I'll just take control of my own life for once. But that may not work. I'll have to wait and see.

So what does this have to do with my abandoned fics? Well, it had started to become more difficult to write because the adhd "shinyness" was wearing off anyway, but I'd been doing a good job of pushing past it because people liked what I was writing. I could see my skill getting better, and engagement was going up, and that was really motivating. But then... I stopped writing fic all of a sudden because someone made a post about finding it shitty when writers wrote about COVID in their fics, and.... that was sort of a last straw that broke me, because I do exactly that in the last WA chapter. So I just turned tail and ran away. I tried to push through and write & publish the chapter anyway, because it was the LAST chapter and I knew people were waiting on it, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Even having OSBB obligations didn't get me writing again, and given that obligation, the shame I felt about not having finished those stories weighed on me so badly that I couldn't even interact with you guys on Instagram, despite you having been so kind to me in the past. Let's face it, that goes WAY beyond adhd rejection sensitivity, that's a trauma response. I saw one bit of honestly well-reasoned critique of work that wasn't even mine, and I just ran. Immediately I felt like I was no longer allowed to take up space here. I felt unwelcome here in this corner of the internet world, just as I have always felt like I wasn't allowed to take up space in the physical world for almost my ENTIRE life. And the shame I already feel about myself normally was compounded by what I felt was a cowardly thing to do, which prevented me from returning. Now that I've accepted that, yes, I am an abuse victim whose life has been MASSIVELY and MAJORLY affected by that childhood trauma, I'm finally able to address it properly. Over the last few weeks I've been changing the direction of my therapy and my self-talk (reparenting yourself is HARD) and I'm feeling some improvement, but progress isn't linear so my burst of motivation the other night fizzled out, and I'm genuinely sorry for that.

So... yeah, I'm trying to come back and get those fics finished. I'm grateful for any of you willing to be patient with me. Consciously I KNOW I deserve any support willingly given to me by any of you, but I FEEL like I don't. So yeah. Thanks. <3

[odetolovers]

shaking crying screaming

[pulchrasilva]

Oh my god. Thank fuck for my dreams' inability to fit real life details into them because that was horrible. I was real scared for a minute

[juniperskye]

I Can’t Do This.

Sneak peek: Reader is recently off of a long-term undercover operation (similar to Emily’s) that left her in a bad way. Director Cruz reaches out, assigning her to the BAU. After speaking to her therapist and expressing her concerns, they come up with a solution of how to inform her new boss of some of the horrors she endured on her mission. Hotch keeps a close eye on her, being careful not to trigger her…until one day, he accidentally does in the worst way. ITALLICS ARE FLASHBACKS! BOLD ARE THERAPY SESSIONS.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) BAU! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5605

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI,YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, mention of canon typical violence, mention of therapy, reader attends regular therapy sessions, mention of a toxic previous “relationship”, mention of a previous dom/sub dynamic, murder, talk of trafficking, forced consent (reader is working the undercover op) mention of previous abuse and manipulation, some use of y/n, Hotch accidentally triggering the reader, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Y/n it has been three months since you returned from your undercover op, it’s time. The BAU needs an additional agent, and you’d make a great addition. It’s really not up for discussion.” Director Cruz ended with finality.

“I really don’t think I am ready. Director Cruz, I know it has been three months, and you guys have been so gracious with the paid leave, but I’m still working through everything I went through when I was under.” You explained.

“Your therapist and the FBI issued psych eval have both cleared you to return y/n. You’re joining the BAU. You’ll begin next Monday.” Cruz decided.

“Okay.”

With that you stood and exited his office. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the BAU, in fact, under normal circumstances you’d have been begging for this placement. But after everything you endured while undercover, you weren’t sure you could handle being on a team, especially not one run by Aaron Hotchner.

--

“You were recommended to me by Sheri, did she tell you anything about me?” He questioned.

“She mentioned you were looking for someone who knew how to follow rules.” You answered.

You had been assigned to an undercover operation in which a very powerful man would finally be brought to justice. Emilio Alvatorre, one of FBI’s most wanted. This man did unspeakable things and lucky for you, he was in the market for a new submissive. Normally the FBI wouldn’t jump at putting an agent in this kind of situation, however, in this case Emilio was known to keep his subs knelt at his side in his office. That would mean that you would be privilege to information that could take him down.

“So, are you good at following rules?” Emilio said in a voice meant to be sexy, but it was truly repulsive.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, “The best.”

--

“I’m worried that Agent Hotchner is going to give me a directive and that I will follow it whether I agree with it or not. I am terrified that I have completely lost myself, and that I will just blindly follow.” You explained.

“Y/n we’ve talked about this, you are strong, you are capable of making decisions and speaking up for yourself.”

“Yeah but being at the BAU with Agent Hotchner, he’s a very commanding and dominant man, what if I fall right back into…” You trailed off.

“He is commanding and dominant, but he isn’t Emilio. I am going to give you some homework, and then I’d like to see you again on Thursday so we can go over it before you join the BAU Monday.”

“You’re right. What’s the homework?” You asked.

“I want you to first come up with a list of coping strategies for when you begin to feel anxious or overwhelmed on the job. Then I want you to write a letter to read to Agent Hotchner giving him some insight as to what you have been through.”

“Absolutely not! Sylvia I can’t do that!”

“Y/n I am not asking you to give him all the details, just a little bit that might help him to know you.”

“Fine.”

--

You had a hard time figuring out what to put in the letter to Agent Hotchner, debating what was too much versus what was too little to say. How much did he need to know, how much were you comfortable sharing…it was all becoming a bit much.

Ultimately, you’d written something up along with a perfect list of coping strategies that you knew would satisfy your therapist.

After meeting with her on Thursday and going over what you came up with, and allowing her to help you tweak a few things, your body filled with dread, anxiously awaiting Monday morning when you’d have to go into the BAU.

--

Director Cruz escorted you to the floor that houses the BAU, bringing you into Agent Hotchner’s office for introductions. You felt like you had just walked out on a stage completely naked with the way all the other agents were looking at you.

“Hotchner, this is Agent y/n. I sent over her file last week. She is going to start with the BAU today.” Director Cruz announced.

“Yes, I saw your email. It is nice to finally meet you.” Agent Hotchner greeted.

“Y/n would you excuse us for just a moment, I’d like to speak to Hotch here.”

Without another word you followed the director’s order. You stepped out of the office and stood patiently waiting for their conversation to end.

--

“She’s anxious.” Spencer mumbled.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Emily replied.

“No, look at her, she’s digging her nails into her palms, a light sweat has broken out on her neck, her heartrate has increased slightly, and she hasn’t looked up at us once. She’s probably suffering from severe anxiety.” Spencer rambled.

“Don’t profile the newbie Spence.” Emily scolded, patting his shoulder.

--

“Alright, y/n go on in and Hotch will fill you in on what his expectations for you are.” Director Cruz headed off.

With a light knock, you awaited Agent Hotchner’s approval before entering his office once again. Mentally chastising yourself for your submissive actions.

“Agent y/n, please, have a seat.” Hotch gestured.

You sat in one of the chairs across from him.

“It says here in your file that you’re recently returning from a twelve-month assignment. I noticed the assignment isn’t labeled as classified, but quite a bit of it was redacted. Can you speak on that at all?” Hotch inquired.

“Agent Hotchner, if it is okay with you, I have somethings I’d like to discuss. Some of which is relevant of that case, but it is primarily regarding the effects that case had on me.”

“Go ahead.” Hotch nodded.

“The undercover op I was working put me in a position in which I was forced and manipulated to blindly following directions from someone. I had to do this for twelve months, and since then, I have had a pretty hard time finding my voice again. Certain things can be triggering for me, so I wrote up some things for you, with the help of my therapist. There are coping strategies that I may need to utilize and there are somethings there for you, to navigate situations that may come up.” You were worried that this was all going to lead to Hotch doubting your ability to do this job. “I also want to make it known that I told the Director that I wasn’t ready to return to work.”

“Thank you for sharing this, I think it’ll help me to make your transition back to work smooth. As for you being ready, I think you sharing that information shows a lot about your strength and I think you are more than ready to be here.”

--

“Kneel.” Emilio ordered with a snap of his fingers.

You slowly dropped to your knees, sitting back on your heels and resting your palms on the tops of your thighs, your gaze focused on the frayed rug that covered the hardwood floor in front of you.

“Bring him in.” Emilio spoke into the intercom that connects him to his security.

The guards drag in a man who appears to be near death, clearly beaten. Emilio rests a hand on your head, gently petting your hair before speaking in a tone you don’t recognize.

“I heard you’ve been snooping around. Talking to Jeremy and his guys.” Emilio spat.

“I haven’t sir I swear!” The man was begging for his life.

“I don’t like snakes.” Emilio raised his gun and shot the man point blank.

You couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. A strong hand was quick to grip your chin.

“Flinching is a sign of weakness. I can’t have a pet that is weak.” His grip tightened “Are you weak?”

“No sir.” You reassured.

“Good.”

--

Working with the BAU had been going well, Hotch had truly been incredible. He’d encouraged you to share your thoughts and theories while on cases. He also reminded you to use your coping strategies when the cases became particularly overwhelming.

Like today for example. The team was working on a case that was taking a toll on you, mentally and emotionally. Women were being kidnapped then brutally tortured and left for dead in the street. It was becoming increasingly difficult to detach yourself from what these women must’ve been feeling.

Hotch was quick to notice the change in your demeanor and he made it a point to assign you with Spencer at the precinct. You were tightening up the victimology while Spencer worked on the geographical profile. You had come to the conclusion that the unsub was targeting victims primarily on their looks, they had all been of similar height, had same color hair and eyes. Worse than that…they all kind of looked like you. The sound of Derek and Emily approaching made your stomach sink. Spencer had clearly picked up on your anxiety since you’d been with the BAU, but the others, not so much.

“Hey guys, what did you find out?” Emily inquired.

“Well, I’ve narrowed down the geographical profile. This area right here…” Spencer gesture to the map covering the screen “this is his comfort zone, all the abductions and dumpsites fall within this five-block radius.”

“What about you new girl?” Derek nudged you gently.

“I looked into all the victims, and they all were approximately the same height and build, same color hair and eyes. I spoke to Penelope; she confirmed that all of the women frequented the same coffee shop.” You explained.

Hotch, Rossi, and JJ all entered just in time to hear Derek confirm your thoughts…which led to a suggestion that made your heart sink.

“Y/n these girls all kind of look like you...” Derek walks over to where their pictures are pinned up to the board. “Maybe we should send you to the coffee shop undercover. It could help us find this guy.”

You heart was pounding, causing a loud whooshing sound to drown out your hearing. You closed your fists and dug your nails into your palms. You could feel the sweat breaking out along your forehead.

In and out…deep breaths. You reminded yourself of the coping strategies you’d come up with for instances like this. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

“Absolutely not!” Hotch commanded, shaking you from your thoughts while simultaneously distracting the others from your very obvious panic attack.

“Hotch man come on! She fits the victimology perfectly; it could end this case if she could catch his attention.” Derek argued.

“It’s not up for discussion. I will not send a new agent undercover, not until she is more comfortable on this team. Undercover ops like that require a significant level of trust, one that she may not have yet.” Hotch shut Derek down.

“We know he must go to this coffee shop; JJ and I could go in and watch. Keep an eye out for a man acting suspicious.” Emily suggested.

“Good, first thing tomorrow.” Hotch said before dismissing the team for the evening.

--

“Sir, is it safe to be talking about this…with her here?”

“Are you questioning me?” Emilio sneered. “My pet is well behaved. I wouldn’t have her here if I thought otherwise. Who are you to question my decisions?” His voice raised.

“I’m sorry sir! I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I just wasn’t sure.”

“Don’t let it happen again. Now I’ll ask again. What is the update on the shipment?” Emilio demanded.

“There are going to be three crates in the shipping container. The boat is set to anchor Friday at midnight.”

“And everything we were promised will be there?” Emilio asked.

“Well, not the girls. This shipment is just the weapons.”

“Excuse me?” Emilio’s expression turned sinister.

You were knelt by his desk like always. This conversation had been one you were banking on; it was hopefully going to allow your team to pick him and his associates up. Only, this conversation had taken a turn that you weren’t expecting. His shipments thus far had only contained drugs and weapons, so why was he asking about girls?

“I was assured that everything would be included. How fucking hard is it to follow orders?” Emilio shouted, his fist slamming onto his desk.

You sat still, silently taking in the situation. That night you’d check in with your team and fill them in on the new information. You just needed to get the logistics of when the second shipment would arrive, and honestly, you were scared Emilio would kill this guy before you got that information.

“I know boss. They told me that the girls would be here soon. There was an issue getting paperwork for some of them. But it should all be worked out now.”

“I need a date and time. By the end of the day. Otherwise, you’re done.” Emilio hissed. He then brushed his hand over your head. “C’mon pet, let’s go to bed. And you, I’ll be expecting your call.”

Going to bed with Emilio had initially been the worst part of this assignment. Thankfully he’d had you STD tested which meant you were both clean, and he’d ensured you received birth control shots. The sex had surprised you; you had expected it to be rough and painful but, it had been soft and gentle. Emilio whispered sweet nothings to you, and he held you close, and he’d carefully bathe you afterwards.

It may be sick and twisted…but it didn’t bother you, having sex with him.

--

A light knock at your door had startled you. You made your way over to check the peephole, and there he was waiting patiently.

“Hotch, is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that. Morgan was out of line suggesting we send you in.”

“It’s okay, really. He doesn’t know any better.”

Hotch gave you a sympathetic look. You could tell he was doing everything in his power not to profile you. You appreciated his effort, and it truly was endearing. Around Hotch, you’d started to feel more comfortable, and his consistent care of you and your mental health had been the thing that drew you in. He cared so much, and it meant the world to you.

“You seemed nervous earlier, does that have to do with the undercover assignment you worked?”

“Yes.”  You sighed.

In the last two months of being with the BAU, you and Hotch had been teetering this fine line of coworkers and more. It wasn’t necessarily leaning toward something romantic, at least that’s what you were both trying to convince yourselves of but, it had definitely become a friendship. Hotch had allowed you a safe space in which you were starting to feel like yourself again. He had never pushed you for information about your past and he continuously checked in with you to make sure you were comfortable and okay. More recently though, as things like what happened today occurred, you have felt like maybe you should tell Hotch a little more about what you endured.

“You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I am here for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like you have to tell me anything! But if you should choose, I’d listen.” Hotch admitted.

“I was sent in undercover to investigate Emilio Alvatorre…” You began.

“Emilio Alvatorre? He was one of FBI’s most wanted! Lucrative arms dealer, importing drugs…I heard he was ultimately brought down for sex trafficking.” Hotch was stunned.

“Yeah, that was me. Emilio took part in a certain lifestyle; he is a dominant and he was seeking a new submissive…and I guess I fit the bill. He essentially owned me, and he referred to me as his pet. It was my job to follow his orders blindly, and I did.”

“What was it like?” Hotch questioned.

“Well…

--

“Good morning pet.” Emilio purred pressing a kiss right below your ear.

“Mmm, good morning sir. Can I make you breakfast?” You offered.

“No darling, the cook will prepare our meal. I think it is sweet you still ask.” His kisses travelled down your neck.

“Do you have meetings today?” You inquired.

“Today is all about you pet. We are going to get you some new clothes, shoes, and maybe a new necklace. I want to spoil you today! We are celebrating!” Emilio gushed.

It was the moments like this that fucked with your mind the most. Emilio could be so kind and gentle, he wanted to take care of you and in the time you’d been with him, it had been increasingly easier to let him. But then there were moments when he turned dark…the other side of him came to light and you couldn’t help but question your mind.

“Boss…” Emilio’s associate barged into the office, only to find you bent over his desk while he pounded into you from behind.

“Not now!” Emilio growled.

“But boss!” This guy really couldn’t take the hint.

Emilio wasn’t one who took well to being interrupted, in any aspect of his life. So, when this associate decided what he had to say was more important than Emilio’s time…you knew it would be bad.

Emilio’s hips never faltered, not upon the initial interruption and certainly not when he leaned to the side, grabbed his gun, and shot the man standing in the doorway. You pinched your eyes shut, knowing better than to react to the horrific sight before you. Emilio continued thrusting, his grunts becoming more erratic, and when he finally finished, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Go run a hot bath. Get in and wait for me. I need to go see about this issue and get this cleaned up.” Emilio stated as he assisted you in standing upright.

“Yes sir.”

--

“It was really hard for me to deal with the two sides of him. I became confused and my mind was so foggy as to whether or not he was truly awful. And I know that so much of that is the manipulation of being his submissive, but I was with him for a year, it was easy to forget what things had been like before Emilio.” You trailed off.

“I can’t even imagine all the things you must’ve seen and gone through in that time. I can understand why you weren’t sure about joining the BAU initially…but I am really glad you did.” Hotch expressed, placing his hand atop your own.

“I’m glad I did too.”

--

The next morning Emily and JJ were sent into the coffee shop that all the victims frequented, and they couldn’t track the unsub. Either he was far too subtle, or he hadn’t shown up. The team was currently in the precinct trying to figure out the next steps, when Derek suggested it again.

“I still think y/n should go undercover, it’s our best bet in finding this guy. What do you say new girl?”

You were taken aback; your mind was screaming at you to decline. You weren’t ready for this, going undercover, blindly following team orders. It’s for the greater good though, isn’t it?

“I could do that.”

“Morgan, I already said it’s not happening. She isn’t ready.” Hotch commanded.

“Hotch, we have all had to go undercover. There is no reason that she can’t go into the coffee shop and order a freaking latte. We will all be there to keep her safe, just like any other case!” Morgan was practically shouting.

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“Y/n you don’t have to do this. Not if you aren’t comfortable.” Hotch was obviously trying to profile you based on his expression.

“I’m okay. I’ll do it.”

--

You were ordering a coffee, meanwhile Spencer was sitting in the back of the café reading a book and Rossi was in line, about three patrons behind you. Hotch insisted on sitting at a table just outside the entrance to keep a close eye on everyone coming and going. JJ, Derek, and Emily were all in the surveillance van parked across the street, waiting for the signal.

After you received your coffee, you found a seat at an empty table. It wasn’t long before a man approached you. He was tall and clearly strong; he had a very sinister aura that gave you the chills.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked.

“Oh, sure.” You agreed.

The man sat, but only after he moved the chair closer to you. He was talking to you, but you were having a hard time listening. You were silently begging the guys to come to help and get him away from you.

“You know, you’re really pretty. Why don’t we get out of here? We could go get lunch.” The man suggested.

“Oh, I’m not sure I should.”

“C’mon, be a good girl and get up.” His tone became more aggressive.

You stood up without a second thought, much to the unsub’s delight. He grabbed your arm in a bruising grip and began leading you out of the café.

“They’re on the move. Why is she going with him? This wasn’t the plan.” Derek exclaimed.

Hotch’s demeanor instantly changed. After you opened up to him about your previous assignment, he understood now why you had seemingly always followed orders willingly, only your willingness had been conditioned. Instilled in you through the manipulation of a very dangerous man.

“I got it.” Hotch

Hotch stood up and turned abruptly, purposefully plowing into you and the unsub. He made a move that shifted you away from the unsub and placed himself between you.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Hotch feigned innocence.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Watch where you’re going asshole. Let’s get out of here.” The unsub reached for your arm once more.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“You want to bet?”  he said, pulling a gun from his waistband and pointing it directly at your head.

You didn’t flinch, in fact you didn’t move a muscle. All the while everyone else sprung into action. Hotch tried to talk him down while the rest of the team surrounded him on all sides. You had stood there completely disassociated while this man threatened your life and ultimately met his untimely end via Emily’s weapon.

--

“Y/n would you please come to my office?” Hotch requested.

You silently followed Hotch to his office. You were wringing your hands, hoping that he wouldn’t reprimand you for your behavior today. You couldn’t handle disappointing people.

“You didn’t even flinch. You had a gun pointed at you and you didn’t even blink. You also willingly left the café with him, which was not a part of the plan we had discussed.” Hotch stated, his tone calm.

“I���m sorry Hotch. He told me to get up and I just…I wasn’t sure what to do. I know we needed to catch the guy.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” Hotch admitted. “I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt. I also don’t want you to agree to do things simply because someone tells you to. Like agreeing to go undercover.”

“I don’t know how to do that. Disagree I mean. I’m not sure I have that in me anymore.” You did everything in your power to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Y/n I’m not disappointed. I do think that it is very important you continue to work with your therapist.”

“I will.”

--

“…and I just stood there.”

“Y/n you we conditioned for over a year to sit still when any sort of firearm was shot, you watched people die right in front of you. You were covered in their blood and forced to remain kneeling until instructed otherwise. I can’t say I am entirely surprised that you didn’t react to having a weapon pointed at you. What does surprise me though was that you agreed to going undercover.” Sylvia finished.

“I knew it was our best option to finding this unsub. I fit the victimology, and I was able to fish him out. It was a no-brainer.” You shrugged.

“Now that sound like someone making a rational decision.” Sylvia smirked.

“Yeah well, after the case Hotch called me out and I felt like a child being scolded. I could barely hold back tears.”

“Why do you think that is?” She pressed.

“I don’t know. I guess, I’m afraid of not being good enough and worse, disappointing him.”

“The only person you should be worried about disappointing is yourself. Y/n you have made huge strides in the last five months and as long as you stay true to yourself, you will continue to do so.”

--

The months went on, as did the cases and your therapy sessions. Oddly enough, you had started to feel more like yourself. Things with the BAU have started to become easy, you were opening up little by little to the others and you were getting better at making your own decisions.

Hotch had also noticed the change. It had warmed his heart to see you really coming into your own, to really get to know the real you. Which had only strengthened his feelings toward you, causing him to work extra hard to shove them down. Rossi knew simply from the look Hotch gave you, but that’s a story for another time.

The team had been working back-to-back cases all over the country for the last few weeks. It had been exhausting and the team were getting to a point where everyone was snippy. Lack of sleep had led to a horrible lack of patience, and the local officers weren’t making matters any better.

“What if we were wrong, I think the unsub is a woman. I mean look at the attention to detail in the clean up and at how the bodies were presented.” You offered.

“Y/n could be right; a woman would take the time to be precise and it would explain the…”

Before Spencer could finish his thought, Officer Riley decided to provide his own theories.

“There is no way it is a woman. They don’t have the courage to take care of people like this. That’s why the statistic proves that the unsub is a man.”

“With all due respect, women are just as capable of murder as men, and when they do it they are often far more meticulous which is why that fits better here.” You explained.

“Well, with all due respect ma’am, I’ve been doing this job longer than you could walk.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t bother hiding your surprise.

“All I’m saying sweetheart, is that perhaps you’d be better off getting us some coffee.” Officer Riley sneered.

“Last time I checked, I’m the one working for the FBI and not some Podunk little police station in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. So how about you back off and let us finish our…”

“Y/N TAKE A SEAT.” Hotch demanded.

Despite your shock at Hotch’s tone toward you, you took a seat without hesitation.

“Officer Riley, please let my agents do their work. We have much more important things to be doing than arguing about the duties of a woman.” Hotch chided.

“Well, you clearly agree with me given the fact that you gave her an order. If you’d been on her side you’d have probably told me off.” Riley turned to you, “and you clearly do know how to listen to a man in charge. Perhaps I misjudged you.”

With that, Riley made his leave with a low chuckle, and you sat there considering what had just happened. Hotch had commanded you to sit down knowing full well you’d comply, that way he could deal with Riley without you continuing to tell him off. He used what he knew about you against you, despite all the conversations you’ve had with him. Despite him knowing full well your fear of blindly following orders.

“I can’t believe you.” You stood up and walked out, heading straight for the precinct exit.

“Y/n wait!” Hotch followed you.

As you landed on the sidewalk just upon the exit, Hotch’s had made its way around your upper left arm in a desperate attempt to slow you down and hear him out. Only you were in no mood to listen to him or anyone else right now. All you felt was the sense of betrayal blooming in your chest.

As he swung you back around to face him, you did something that shocked even you. You right arm followed around, landing a harsh slap to Hotch’s cheek. Your breathing was ragged, a look of surprise painting your features…a look of guilt flooding Hotch’s.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” You paused.

“No, Y/n I am so sorry I shouldn’t have-” Hotch pleaded.

“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” With that you left, calling a taxi, and heading back to the hotel.

--

“YOU STUPID BITCH! HOW COULD YOU?” Emilio Screamed, lunging toward you.

“Emilio I didn’t, I just…I”

Emilio wrapped his hand around your throat, harshly choking you as SWAT swarmed the shipyard. They quickly made their way to you, removing Emilio from his position over you. As they pulled him away you couldn’t help but watch him.

“Kneel Pet!” Emilio commanded.

You couldn't help but follow his order. Immediately dropping to your knees, resting your hands atop your thighs and letting your gaze fall to the ground.

“I will always own you! You will always be my pet, perfectly broken in!” Emilio hollered as they put him in the back of a vehicle.

“Y/n you’re okay, lets get you up and checked out.” Your unit commander suggested.

Only you didn’t move. You couldn’t get up, not without his permission.

That night, the paramedics had to sedate you to get you into an ambulance. And after that you were placed in a psychiatric facility for 30 days to help undo the brainwashing you’d endured.

--

“Sylvia, I slapped him. My boss, I slapped him right in the face!”

“Y/n you reacted to a situation and based on what you just explained to me, it seems like he knew he was in the wrong. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself and honestly, you should talk to him.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Maybe tell him how you feel.” Sylvia suggested.

--

You spent the afternoon practicing what to say to Hotch, Spencer had been texting you updates of that case as it progressed. He’d let you know that they caught the unsub and were headed back to the hotel. So, as you opened your door to make your way to his room, you came face-to-face with the man himself.

“Hotch.”  You gasped.

“Y/n can we talk?”

You moved aside to allow him access to your room. You couldn’t help but feel nervous about the conversation that was to come.

“Hotch, I am so sorry for slapping you! I was just-”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Y/n I am so sorry, I heard you going off on Riley and I knew that if you kept talking he’d report you and I’d be forced to suspend you, only I hadn’t considered the effect that me demanding you take a seat would have on you. I need you to know it was not my intention to take advantage of you like that and even worse, I shouldn’t have put my hand on you the way I did. You had every right to slap me.” Hotch explained.

“You were trying to protect me?”

“Riley had made threats of reporting our staff for going against orders of the precinct. I knew that he’d report you for your behavior, despite him clearly being in the wrong. I didn’t want to suspend you.”

“I didn’t realize. But Hotch telling me to take a seat, in the tone you did, it felt like I was right back there. Following orders without thinking. With you, I can’t explain it, I would do anything you asked me to and that terrifies me. My feelings for you only add to that need to do anything you say, to do anything to please you. I can’t help it.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Aaron! Is that all you took from what I just said?”

“Please say that again.” He whispered.

“Aaron.”

He let his eyes close and took a deep breath. You could tell he was holding back and though part of you was begging you to walk away, the other was telling you to jump in. You thought about what Sylvia would say, and you couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh, knowing full well that she would tell you that only you can make the right decision, and it is okay to trust yourself.

“Aaron, I am terrified…and it is going to take me some time to fully trust myself again, but I really like you and if you’re up for it, I’d like to give this a shot. Unless you don’t feel the same way, then please ignore what I just said an-”

Aaron pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. One that told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m scared too, but I want to try this Y/n. I know that you’re still working to find yourself, I am willing to wait if that is what you need, but I am also willing to be by your side every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

[heartsforvin]

ONLINE LOVE

thank you nonnie for the request !! i hope you like it (:

pairing: gamer!vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, sexual jokes / innuendos, pure fluff

summary: when vinnie goes on omegle one random night out of boredom, he doesn’t expect to meet you and fall in love in the process

with nothing to do on a friday night, vinnie decided to go on omegele. he hadn't been on the site in years, and honestly thought it had gotten banned.

tagging it with a few trendy things, vinnie fixed up his appearance just a bit before clicking on the video option.

of course he knew he wasn't going to get lucky with someone not showing their junk right away, so he wasn't disappointed when he saw some random guy's dick.

after a few skips and boring people, he finally got to you. "holy shit." he thought he said that in his head, but when you looked up, he knew he didn't.

with a furrow to your eyebrows, you give him a small smile as you say hello.

vinnie can't help but give himself a few extra minutes to stare, you were just so pretty. after a minute, he clears his throat and smiles.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes with a laugh. "just didn't expect to see such a pretty girl."

blushing, you thank him with a smile of your own. "you're not so bad yourself." you reply.

vinnie chuckles as he thanks you like you did him. overtime, the two of you ask each other questions about the other, along with interests.

"you play any video games?" he asks you, and you smile with a shake to your head.

it was honestly kind of hard to focus on conversation with him. the first thing you had noticed when he popped up on your screen was his eyes.

vinnie notices you staring at him and smirks. "am i really that nice to look at?" he chuckles.

you rid your thoughts quickly, almost being embarrassed that he caught you. you wouldn't have the confidence to admit it, but he was good to look at.

smiling, you quickly divert the conversation to his previous question. "not much of a gamer really, unless you count the sims." you say.

vinnie laughs and shakes his head. "nah i'm talkin' real games." he tells you.

rolling your eyes playfully, you give him a scoff. "oh so you're one of those people." you say with a laugh.

when vinnie heard you laugh he swore his heart skipped a beat, and not even to be dramatic. he watched as you went on and on about how the sims was real gaming.

he saw your smile and knew that's something he wanted to see more of. "woah hey, calm down." vinnie laughs as he cuts you off.

you smile, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "what? sims is real gaming, you nerd." you tell him.

vinnie takes in your appearance again and the clothes you're wearing. he can't get enough of you and he just met you.

you do the same, looking at him through the laptop screen, faint blush spreads across your cheeks.

vinnie stands up and the breath is almost knocked out of you when he does. he's wearing sweatpants and a white tank top, muscles on full display.

"you lookin' at my arms or...?" vinnie asks with a chuckle as he sees you staring. "because i can give you soethin' to look at."

laughing, you roll your eyes at him again. "definitely don't want to see that. i've seen too many."

vinnie chuckles and nods his head, completely understanding. although, it doesn't stop him from making a comment.

"you sure? because i do have a tattoo there, but if you don't want see i guess you'll never know." he shrugs.

you wish you were near him so you could hit his arm, instead, you result in a playful scoff and sarcastic reply. "you do not have a tattoo there."

the blonde laughs but shrugs again. "how'd you know if you've never seen it?"

this time, its your turn to shrug. "guess i'll just have to take your word for it." you tell him.

the playful banter continues for about another hour. neither you or vinnie thought you'd actually meet a decent person on this site tonight, but you're both happy you did.

"okay," you say, getting vinnie's attention back onto you and not his phone. "other than gaming, what do you do?"

vinnie stifles a laugh at the question, knowing his answer. "i stream." he tells you.

you already know his answer to your next question so he beats you to it by saying, "yes, i do stream video games."

you can't help but smile. "nerd." you comment with a laugh.

vinnie fires back. "you don't even play real video games, don't even give me that kind of attitude." he says with a laugh.

you brush him off with a scoff. that brought your attention back to the sims games and how you now suddenly got an idea.

"hey vinnie," you get his attention again and he looks up at you. "what if i told you i'm about to make you and me in sims?"

you were half joking, although you did think about the idea of it. vinnie furrows his eyebrows but has a smile on his face.

"that's cute, you should." he tells you, making you smile.

you nod, telling him you'll do it after you get done talking. the two of you talk more for a bit, jokes are made, smiles are shared along with laughs, and vinnie did make one or two comments about you blushing.

in all honesty, he was doing the same thing an you probably could notice. he couldn't help himself, he was starting to think he was falling a bit in love with you.

he did think it was way too soon to tell and you two had known each other for no longer than four hours.

silence fills you two for a minute before vinnie interrupts the silence with what you'd say is a crazy statement.

"you know what you could do if we ever do meet and possibly have a thing going?" he asks, and you don't reply right away, taking his words in.

you didn't want to rush anything at all, but the chemistry between the two of you was very noticeable. so, you raise your eyebrow as you wait for him to tell you.

he smirks, anf you instantly know its another one of his dirty jokes. "never had support from under the desk before."

the minute that sentence leaves his mouth your laughing loudly, quickly trying to stop yourself.

you give him that same look back, smirk turning into a smile as you tease him and tell him maybe one day it'll happen.

you both talk for a bit longer until the two of you decide to call it a night. before yo go, vinnie asks you for your number and you happily give it to him.

he was definitely falling in love with you now if he wasn't already.

thank you nonnie for the request again !! i hope you liked it + everyone else reading this (:

comments, reblogs + feedback of any kind is appreciated <33

tags: @sturnioloshacker , @anqeliclust , @cosmicanakin , @42angelgirl , @leqonsluv3r , @khackerr , @louloulemons-blog , @visualbutterflysworld , @bernelflo , @slvthrs , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @supabhad , @kriissy4gov , @kayleighh , @hallecarey1 , @laylasbunbunny , @defnotayonna , @khxna , @jpg3 , @skye-44 , @eddieslut69 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @miilzzy

[band--psycho]

Silco x Reader - Injuries And Admissions

I know lots of people are waiting for the next part of my Vander story; I promise I am working on it, but in the meantime I thought I'd post this story based off of this request! (Thank you to the Anon who sent this request in)

This is also my first Silco story, so please be kind! 💛

I hope you all enjoy this! Reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support!💛

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Silco Masterlist / Arcane Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, being stabbed, murder, protective Silco/worried Silco, gangs/gang violence, knives

You’d been summoned to Silcos office; you assumed it would be about a job he needed you to take care of, but when you got there, you noticed that he was not sitting in the chair behind his desk as he so often was.

Instead he was in front of it, leaning against it, his gaze completely fixed on you as you walked further into the room, closer to him. 

“What happened?” 

His words caught you off guard, before realisation dawned on you about why you were really here. 

It wasn’t for a job at all.

It was about the injury you’d suffered earlier that day. 

“Who told you?” You sighed as the question fell from your lips, wondering who of the very few people that knew about your injury had informed Silco. 

You hated the fact that he knew you’d been hurt; it made you look weak. 

And you hated looking weak. 

Especially when you should've been prepared for an attack like that. 

Silco becoming the kingpin of the Undercity came with risks; you knew this, and you accepted that there was a high probability that you could get injured. 

This was your own fault. 

You’d been wandering through the Lanes, when a group came up behind you. 

There were five of them and one of you; they made it very clear that they were enemies of Silcos and  wanted to kill you to ‘send a message’.

It wasn’t long until four of them were on the floor, groaning in agony at the injuries you’d caused them. 

You were holding the member that had threatened you against the wall, your blade to his throat and a warning on your tongue. 

You should’ve killed him. 

Should’ve killed them all straight away. 

But you didn’t. 

You threw the gang member to the ground; not realising that one of the others had stumbled to their feet, until you felt a sharp pain in your side. 

Quickly you turned around and slit their throat, watching the blood pour out of him as he fell back to the ground. 

The others ran; scared that they were going to be next. And they were right to run, because with the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins in that moment, you could’ve killed them all. 

They were lucky. 

But in all honesty so were you, because the wound could’ve been much worse. 

“What happened?” He repeated, ignoring your question about who told him. 

“Nothing,” you answered, hoping that brushing off his question would stop him from asking any further questions about it; you thought he’d be mad. 

Mad that you were meant to be one of his top people and you’d been injured so easily by a gang of radicals; but you saw no fury in his eyes, just an unexplainable emotion that if it had been anyone else you would’ve classed as worry.

But this was Silco. 

Your boss.

And the only person you’d ever seen him show that type of emotion to, or any type emotion for that matter, was Jinx. 

You thought it was just your mind playing tricks on you, that was until he spoke. 

“This…” he began, taking a few steps towards you, his hand delicately hovering over the wound on your side, “isn’t nothing.”

It looked worse than it actually was; not helped by the fact that you’d sewn the wound shut yourself, but it helped the bleeding stop. 

“You should see the other guy,” you joked awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood; but your efforts were in vain; and Silco still just continued to stare at you, awaiting an answer to his question.

It was only in the silence that you realised how close the two of you were to one another; your mind was screaming at you to move, to pull back, to keep the distance between you so that your heart wouldn’t get ahead of itself. 

But despite your mind urging you to move, you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

“I handled it,” you stated simply, hoping that your answer would suffice. 

It’s not like you couldn’t handle yourself, you were capable of handling situations, it was something you were used to; something you had to be used to whilst living in the Undercity where there were very few people to trust.

Today was just a mistake, one you would be sure wouldn’t happen again. 

“Oh I have no doubt about that, love, I know you’re quite capable, I just want to know what happened?”

“And why do you want to know that?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

You were confused both by the nickname he’d called you, as well as by the surprising tone of his voice as he softly said, “Because, I want to know who did this to you.”

This was a side of Silco you’d never seen before; and you didn’t quite know how to react to him. Not only were you used to his voice being firm and authoritative, instead of the gentle and empathetic voice that had said such protective words, but  you also weren’t used to his touch at all, nor were you used to the feelings it created. 

‘Why is he being like this?’ You thought to yourself; suddenly feeling the touch of his soft hand on your face; his actions only deepening your confusion, something that Silco was quick to notice.

“Is it really so surprising to think that I care for you?” His words caught you off guard. 

Yes was the simple answer. 

Why would he care for you? You were nothing special…

“Is it so surprising that I want to find the people who dared to hurt you and make sure they’re punished for it,” he continued; his eyes meeting yours, allowing you to see the honesty within them.

“Silco,” you breathed, unable to think of anything else to say; you were trying to processing his words, but yet you still remained completely confused by them. 

“I don’t like seeing you hurt, Y/n,” he stated simply, The hand that was on your waist remained there, whilst his free hand rose to your face, settling delicately on your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“I’m sorry-” you rest of your quickly fell away from your mind when you heard a knock at the door; the sudden sound making you jump a little.

A small chuckle fell from Silcos lips as he reluctantly stepped away from you, he didn’t want to.

He wanted to stay that close to you, he wanted to tell you how he truly felt; but as much as he wanted to, now was not the right time. 

You needed to rest; he knew that more than you did. He could see that you were exhausted from the day you'd endured.

And he needed to sort out whatever problem had undoubtedly occurred, leading to the knock at the door.

“Stay here and rest,” he ordered, giving you a small smile before walking past you towards the door, “I’ll be back soon, we’ll talk more then.”

Those were the last words he said to you before opening the door and quickly closing it behind him, leaving you alone in his office as you tried to work out what the hell had just happened.

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @barbersjoy @conretewings @the-lone-librarian @cass-brightwood @fortune-fool02 @arielpanda1 @mothratic @simping-ella @stickyrice5096 @levis-butterfingers @lesbianinyourarea @eternallyvenus @trixiex2 @nagislemontea @dazecrea @artemis0054 @ironwerewolfpeanut

[solarsturniolo]

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: in which Matt is failing his classes and at risk of having to repeat the semester, and his tutor is the reason behind it.

𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗: This is a collaborative story that me and another person started on, but I am in charge of it now :) All characters in this story are of age. None of the characters are minors.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: cursing / smut / switch!matt / switch!fem reader / male masturbation / wet dreams / use of good boy / virgin!matt / p in v / oral (fem receiving) / oral (male receiving) / overstimulation / breeding kink / praise kink / mommy kink / scenes mentioning anxiety

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 3,700

Previous parts: Intro / One / Two /

He tossed and turned that night, unable to get the dream out of his head. It had all felt so real. He could smell her perfume, waves of vanilla surrounding him as he laid at her mercy. He could feel her touch, her soft fingers running along his skin, a trail of goosebumps following close behind, warmth encompassing him. He could hear her voice, soft praises and coos of adoration falling from her lips, her tone warm and sweet, flowing like maple syrup dripping from a stack of pancakes. He could taste her lips as she kissed him, her cherry chapstick driving him wild as he nipped at her bottom lip. He could see her electrifying gaze as they locked eyes, his orgasm rushing through his body like a lightning bolt striking a tree. It felt so real…

He tried to fall asleep again, really he did. He wanted to fall asleep again. He wanted to drift back into the heavenly dream he had previously found himself in. He prayed to whatever higher power would listen to him, begging to be transported back into his dream. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, peeking over at his alarm clock, groaning in annoyance, and repeating the cycle, Matt found himself sitting up in his bed. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand, unplugging it from the charger that was barely holding itself together after years of use. He tried to distract himself, hoping that the incessant scrolling and non-stimulating content would lull him to sleep. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky. Even after scrolling through and switching between apps, Matt only found himself wide awake, annoyed, and horny.

Undeniably, uncontrollably, unbelievably horny. 

Matt opened the Safari app on his phone, clicking the address bar. The all too familiar website popped up without him even needing to type anything, a clear sign that he had made this search far too many times. Matt made a mental note to clear his search history as he clicked on the site, waiting impatiently for it to load. 

He scrolled through page after page, briefly glimpsing at the exaggerated titles to each video, none of which captured his interest. He let out a frustrated grunt, his dick straining against the cotton fabric of his boxers. He wanted nothing more than to jerk off, to get rid of the incessant throbbing so that he could just sleep, but unfortunately for Matt, he was picky with the porn he watched. Chris made fun of him for it, but he didn’t care. Seeing a woman bent over on some AirBnB couch getting the shit railed out of her, filling the empty disconnected atmosphere with obnoxious sounds, feigning the one thing he truly craved; he just couldn’t bring himself to watch something so meaningless, nonetheless enjoy it. Nothing about it was appealing to him. It wasn’t real. He wanted something real. 

But he had no idea how he felt about actual sex. He’d kissed a few times, but never with tongue and nothing past that. The furthest he had ever gotten was the time he made out with a girl in ninth grade and creamed his pants when she straddled his lap.  Matt was always insecure about his inexperience, afraid that when the time finally came, he would disappoint. This was brand new territory for him…and it was all her fault.

His gaze flickered to the top of his phone, reading the time that was displayed on the screen. “Holy shit,” he muttered. It was much too late in the night for him to still be awake, and yet here he was, pulling on a pair of faded flannel pyjama pants before shuffling over to the door. His fingertips grazed over the handle, unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. Matt looked down the dark hallway, and once he was sure everyone was asleep, he carefully tiptoed over to the stairs. 

Each step had Matt tensing up, the old wooden floorboards groaning and squeaking under the weight of his feet. He cringed at a particularly loud step, even pausing for a moment to ensure he hadn’t woken anyone up. After another painfully long three minutes, Matt finally reached the bottom of the steps and made a beeline for the kitchen. In seconds he found himself standing in front of Nick’s bedroom door, and Matt raised his hand to knock but he hesitated. He leaned closer, his ear ghosting over the old faded wood. The muffled sound of the tv could be heard, along with Nick’s agitated remarks. “Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t fucking deserve her and now you’re getting her voted off!?” Matt smiled to himself. Once he was sure that his brother was awake and not murmuring nonsense in his sleep, he knocked on the door.

“God fucking- Yeah! Come in!.”

 He opened the door to see the room bathed in lavender LED light, the television playing whatever show Nick had suddenly found interest in. Tonight, it just so happened to be one of those ridiculous dating reality TV shows. Nick sat in his bed, his back propped against pillows, legs stretched out and arms crossed over his stomach. He turned his head the second the door opened, half expecting Mary Lou to come lecture him for being too loud, but he relaxed upon seeing his brother in the doorway. “Jesus, you can’t sleep either?” Nick huffed. “Get in here.”

Matt furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, until he saw Chris’s head poke up from the other side of the bed. He was sitting on the floor, for whatever reason, and he flashed a cheesy grin when he saw his brother standing in the doorway. 

“Why are you on the floor.”

“Wow, nice to see you too Matthew,” Chris rolled his eyes. “Nice of you to show your face at-“ he held up his arm, looking at his bare wrist. “Two thirty in the morning.” 

“Ignore him,” Nick mumbled, rolling his eyes and grabbing the remote controller from his nightstand to pause his show. “He’s annoyed because Nate left him hanging-“

Chris huffed, an inaudible response following as he turned back around and sunk back down onto the floor. The other two shared a look of irritation at the sound of Chris typing on his phone, the younger of the trio completely unbothered by the incessant clicking. Rolling his eyes, Nick looked at Matt expectantly. “Well?” 

Matt sighed, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. He sulked over to Nick’s bed, collapsing onto the empty side as his brother moved over to make space for him. Matt wriggled under Nick’s blankets, keeping his face buried in the pillow. 

“What’s wrong,” Nick said, his tone changing the question to a demand. 

The keyboard sounds paused for a moment. “Yeah, your vibe is like…weird,” Chris added. He langered up from the ground and sat on the edge of his brother’s mattress. “You didn’t talk to us like all afternoon.” 

Matt sighed, questioning if he should say anything at all. But his brothers were his sanctuary. He always told them everything. It was eating him up inside, keeping this from them. He wasn’t good at keeping secrets, especially from the two people that could always read him like a book. He wanted to tell them everything; his grades, the tutoring, her. 

He decided to take one life crisis at a time. 

 “...There’s a girl,” He started. 

Nick shrieked. Chris looked at Nick, punching him in the upper arm as a proud smile formed on his face. “I fucking told you, you owe me lunch tomorrow.” 

Matt looked up from the pillow, furrowing his eyebrows yet again. “You knew?”

“Well no shit,” Chris laughed. “You? Willingly going to the library? I put the pieces together,” he smirked. “So what were you doing in the library with this girl?” he teased. 

Matt felt his face flush with heat, shooting a glare in Chris’s direction. “Nothing you’re thinking, pervert. We…” he trailed off. I can’t tell them I'm failing. I just can’t do it. “We were going over a project for English. That’s it.”

“Do we know her?” Nick asked as he opened instagram up on his phone. He wasn’t disinterested, but he knew how his brother was. Matt got embarrassed easily, so on the rare occasion that Nick did want to know more, he also knew that he had to be mindful of his reactions. Nonchalance was his best bet.

Matt huffed. Chris’s eyes widened and his smile grew. “No fucking way.”

“Chris-“

“Still?! It’s been four years, man!”

Nick looked back and forth between the two, confused by their exchange. Matt groaned, flopping back down face first into the pillow. “Matt liked this girl in our grade back when we started high school, but couldn’t grow the nuts to ask her out,” Chris filled Nick in. “We had her in our woodshop class last year and it was like I was partners with a brick wall,” Chris laughed, only making Matt all the more embarrassed. “I didn’t think you still liked her.”

“Shut up,” he groaned. 

Nick finally decided to chime in, dropping his phone onto his chest. “Wait a second, it’s not that girl from your weird baking class was it?” 

Matt’s face grew even more red, if that was even possible. “Nick, shut up-“

Now it was Chris’s turn to tilt his head quizzically, brow furrowed, looking at Nick expectantly for some context. “Baking class? The fuck-“

“Introduction to culinary,” Matt corrected them, hiding his face with the palms of his hands. 

“You were probably at practice or something,” Nick dismissed his younger brother with a wave of his hand before continuing. “Matt’s cooking class had some weird competition thing after school, me and mom went to it-“

“Nick, shut the fuck up,” Matt warned his brother, though his threat was open ended and held no real weight to it. He rolled onto his side, his back facing his brothers.

“Matt made this god awful chicken parmesan, but mom pretended to like it-“

Matt huffed, crossing his arms over his chest now. “It wasn’t that bad-“ he defended, remembering the way his mother cupped his face and kissed his forehead in the middle of the classroom, praising him for his hard work, all the while his brother discretely tossed his plate into the garbage bin out of sight. 

“Anyways, we all got to try everyone’s food and this girl made the BEST fucking coconut cream pie. Chris, it was actually unreal how fucking good it was-“

“Nick I swear to fuck-“

Chris smiled in amusement, criss-crossing his legs as he indulged himself in Nick’s story telling. It was rare for Chris to remain quiet like this, but at the expense of his brother’s ego, he remained engaged and attentive. Matt groaned, realizing there was no way to stop his brother from telling this embarrassingly awful story. He yanked the pillow out from behind his head, letting his head fall back onto the mattress before pulling the pillow over his face, wanting nothing more than to suffocate himself right then and there. 

“This motherfucker tries the pie, looks her dead in the eyes, and tells her he likes her cream-“

Matt flinched at the ferocity of Chris’s laughter thundering throughout the room, echoes of it bouncing off of the walls. The sound was followed by countless shushes from Nick, beckoning their brother to keep his voice down. “Mom and dad are sleeping you idiot,” Nick hissed, smacking Chris on the arm. Usually, Chris would retaliate and hit him back, but he was far too entertained by the story to even care about the sting he felt on his bicep. 

“You told her-“ he cut himself off, laughing again. Matt groaned and rolled over onto his back, pressing the pillow into his face with more force. Maybe if I press down hard enough, I’ll suffocate myself. “You told her you liked her cream?” Chris managed to force out between giggles. 

“No-“ Matt grunted, closing his eyes tightly as he felt the pillow being snatched from his grasp. “I told her I really liked her cream.”

This, of course, causes another fit of giggles to rise from Chris’s chest. Tears flooded his eyes as he leaned forward, doing everything within his power to keep his volume at a decent level. Nick rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t contain the toothy grin that snuck its way onto his face. “You guys suck,” Matt grumbled. “This is like middle school humor, grow up,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest once again. He tried to push the memory out of his mind, but it crept up on him and lingered, like a monster in the shadows. Her fingers grazing past his as she handed him a plate, her gaze locking with his as he eagerly tasted her homemade dessert, the words escaping him faster than he could even think.

Chris sniffled, grasping his shirt collar as he found himself finally settling after his laughing fit. He laid himself between his brothers, wrapping an arm over the front of Matt’s shoulders. “I love you, man. You crack me up,” he grinned, another string of giggles threatening to escape him as he replayed the moment in his head again. 

“I can’t ask her out, not after that-“ Matt mumbled, carefully uncrossing his arms so as to not disturb his brother’s comfortable resting position. He’d never admit it, but he quite enjoyed his brothers being touchy with him. Something about it made him feel safe and connected with them. It felt like home. 

“Maybe she found it flattering,” Nick suggested. “She probably knew you were talking about the pie-“

“Or were you?” Chris smirked, raising an eyebrow at Matt. 

In a swift motion, Matt walloped Chris in the bicep, shooting him a look that made Chris shiver. “Alright dude, my bad.”

Matt looked over at Nick, desperation clear in his eyes. “What the fuck do I do, man? I can barely fucking focus during our study sessions,” he sighed. 

Nick’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you were working on a project?”

Matt felt his heart drop, his mouth going dry. Fuck. He needed to lie, and he needed to do it fast. “Same thing, you know what I meant,” he mumbled. He pushed Chris’s arm off of his upper chest, rolling his eyes when Chris moved his arm right back to where it had been seconds prior. 

Nick dismissed Matt’s previous statement, not thinking too much of his slip up. “Tell her she’s pretty and ask her out. She is pretty, right?”

Matt’s eyes closed, his chest falling with a deep exhale. All he could think about was her. Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, her voice…Once he had started to feel his dick stiffen in his pyjama pants, he opened his eyes once more, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t even find the words, man.”

“Then it should be easy. Can we be done here? I’m trying to see who’s gonna get voted off next,” Nick mumbled, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, his focus shifting back to the television on his dresser. 

X O X O X O

Matt hadn't gotten much sleep that night. He watched with heavy eyes as the numbers on his alarm clock changed; every sixty seconds felt like an hour. His head spun, his imagination driving him crazy with fake scenario after fake scenario, conversations that would never happen, touches they would never share. His heart felt heavy. Matt huffed, rolling over onto his other side.  He winced, his hand moving to relieve the ache between his legs. Never in his life did Matt feel as sexually frustrated as he did now. Even when he went through puberty, it was never like this. The desire burning in him was a flame so ancient, yet so ripe at the same time. Foreign, yet familiar. A primal hunger for physical connection, a thirst for release. Diseased with lust. It felt wrong to feel this way, to crave any piece of her. Hell, he hardly knew her. But God, it felt so right at the same time. To crave her, to need her, to have her all to himself. It was enthralling. Perpetual. Addicting. 

The only downside to it was the sneaking around. He hated lying to his brothers, it made his stomach flip and his palms sweat, but he was far too embarrassed and ashamed to admit what was really going on. To admit that if he wasn’t nearly doomed to repeat senior year, she would have never even looked his way. 

Although it wasn’t ideal, being in this tutoring program gave him a newfound purpose. And, yes, there was a possibility that the program itself wasn’t the only aspect that had Matt leaping out of bed in the morning. 

It was strange. He had never spent so long trying to get ready in the mornings before school. Usually he’d throw on the nearest pair of sweats and whatever hoodie he had laying around in his room. But now it was different. He wanted to look good; he wanted to look good for her. He felt ridiculous, to say the least. Outfit after outfit, pulled on and quickly discarded into a pile on the floor. Matt huffed, going to his dresser and opting on a pair of cargo pants instead of his usual sweatpants. 

It would be worth noting that February in Somerville Massachusetts is cold. Very fucking cold. By deciding on the cargos, Matt was also sacrificing his comfort and warmth…but if she would even notice or say anything, it would be worth it. And so, Matt snatched a purple crewneck from his closet and turned, shutting the door with his heel as he pulled it on over his head. He finished off the outfit with his air forces that were falling apart at the seams and, before he left his bedroom, he went back to his dresser, opening the top drawer. He dug around through the plethora of socks, his fingers brushing over the cold glass bottle buried beneath them. 

He didn’t usually wear cologne. He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten this bottle in his possession. But none of that mattered to him now. All that mattered was making the best impression that he could. He was mindful; only one spritz on the neck and one on his wrists. He buried the bottle back into his sock drawer before rushing to his full length mirror. He fixed his necklace, ensuring that the clasp was at the back of his neck. Matt ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it and fixing it, huffing in annoyance as it fell right back into place. Once he was satisfied with his look, he grabbed his favorite coat from where it hung on the back of his desk chair and snatched his backpack from the corner of the room. He closed his bedroom door behind him as he left, flicking the light to his room off, and began his descent to the kitchen where his brothers were already waiting. He pulled his coat on, taking the last step down the staircase. Matt rounded the corner, passing the family room and finally stepping foot into the kitchen.

Nick’s gaze was locked on his phone, though he still managed to greet Matt. “Do you have a fucking herd of elephants up in your room?” He mumbled. 

Matt’s face reddened. “Huh?”

“You-” Nick looked up, and immediately his brow furrowed with suspicion. “It’s nine degrees out and you chose today to not wear sweatpants?” He questioned. 

Chris looked over his shoulder from where he sat at the island, shoulders hunched, his mouth full of toast. He didn’t bother waiting to swallow his food before speaking, though that came as a shock to neither of his brothers. “The fuck…you’re gonna turn into an ice cube.” Chris’s eyes widened as he took his phone out of his jacket pocket. “Wait, now I wanna listen to Ice Cube-“

Matt pointed at Chris languidly. “Not happening, I’m getting aux.”

Chris huffed, dropping his phone face down onto the countertop. “Fuck you,” he mumbled under his breath, shoveling the remaining piece of toast into his mouth. Matt shuffled over to the fridge, eyeing the contents inside. His stomach growled, but nothing seemed appetizing. He checked the pantry next, snatching a granola bar and a bag of mini muffins, stuffing them into his coat pocket. He closed the pantry door with gentle intent. His brow furrowed at the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket, but once he pulled it out and checked the notification, his heart leapt into his throat. Matt’s ears glowed a bright red, his palms beginning to sweat as he typed his password in and opened Snapchat. 

Snapchat // New Message 

no tutoring today, extra curricular stuff (groan). keep working on your essay and i’ll check it tmrw :) 

Matt stared at the message, his heart sinking in his chest. All of the effort he put into his appearance today was for nothing. He exhaled, leaning against the wall as he thought of what to say. Something nonchalant, something cool…anything that didn’t scream desperation. 

Oh ok.

He had to admit, he was disappointed. He had really been looking forward to seeing her again. He thought for a moment before he opened his Snapchat again, clicking back into the chat. 

Yk I’m free after school if your still up for it.

He stared at the message for a long time; so long that her bitmoji had popped up in the bottom left corner, peeking out over the text bar. ‘Jesus Matt,’ he thought to himself. ‘For once in your life, grow some fucking balls.’

He clicked the send button and, with just as much haste, he fled the chat and locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket. “If you’re not in the car in five minutes I’m leaving without you,” Matt announced, walking past Nick towards the stairs, making his way down to the mudroom to leave. Nick lifted his head again, looking towards the staircase with a furrowed brow.

“Are you fucking wearing cologne?!”

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Tags 𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹

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[goldfades]

anniversary! | JOE BURROW⁹ [011]

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and joe's second wedding anniversary!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | nothing but sweet, unfiltered fluff! hayes being a cutie, mentions of baby #2, joe being the best hubby and dad + soft!joe, reminiscing about old times, just a sweet fic

The first thing you noticed was the soft, warm weight of Hayes sprawled across your chest, his tiny hand clutching the fabric of your sleep shirt. The second was the smell of coffee and something delicious wafting through the air, nudging you out of the last remnants of sleep. You blinked your eyes open, the sunlight filtering through the curtains casting a gentle glow over the room.

Joe was already awake, perched on the edge of the bed with a tray in his hands, grinning like a man who had just accomplished something grand. And maybe he had.

"Happy anniversary," he said, his voice soft but full of warmth. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he placed the tray carefully on the bed beside you.

Your gaze shifted to the tray, taking in the sight of a steaming mug of coffee, perfectly golden pancakes stacked high with a dollop of whipped cream and fresh berries, and a little vase with a single flower—picked from the backyard, no doubt. It was simple, thoughtful, and so Joe.

"Wow," you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep. "This is… a lot nicer than the burnt toast I made you last year."

Joe laughed, his hand brushing your hair back from your face before leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I figured I’d set the bar a little higher this time."

Hayes stirred against you, his messy curls tickling your chin as he stretched and let out a little yawn. His big eyes fluttered open, and when he saw Joe, his face lit up with a sleepy smile.

“Dada!” he babbled, reaching his chubby arms out toward Joe, who immediately scooped him up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning, buddy,” Joe said, settling Hayes between the two of you. The little boy wasted no time grabbing at the tray, his curious fingers aiming straight for the whipped cream.

“Hey, no, no,” you said, laughing as you intercepted him. “This is Mama’s anniversary breakfast, not Hayes’ whipped cream buffet.”

Joe chuckled, leaning back against the headboard with Hayes tucked under one arm. “Let him have a little,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “It’s a special day.”

You sighed in mock exasperation but couldn’t help smiling as you dipped a finger into the whipped cream and held it out for Hayes, who giggled as he tasted it.

As you shared bites of pancake and sips of coffee, the three of you tangled together in the blankets, Joe turned to you with a look that made your heart flutter.

“I was thinking last night,” he began, his voice low and steady, “about how much has changed since our first anniversary. Back then, it was just us, and now… now we have this little guy.” He ruffled Hayes’ hair, earning another giggle. “And I just… I can’t believe how lucky I am. To have you, to have him.”

His words were simple, but they carried the weight of every moment you’d shared—the highs and the lows, the laughter and the tears.

“You gave me everything I never knew I needed,” he continued, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’ve made my life fuller than I ever thought it could be. And Hayes—” He glanced down at your son, who was happily smushing a piece of pancake between his fingers. “He’s the best thing we’ve ever done. Thank you. For him, for you… for all of it.”

Your throat tightened with emotion, and you reached out to take his hand, your fingers threading together in an unspoken promise. “You don’t have to thank me,” you said softly. “This… this is everything I’ve ever wanted, too.”

Joe leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the three of you in this quiet, perfect bubble.

Hayes chose that moment to interrupt, babbling something incomprehensible as he patted Joe’s cheek with sticky fingers.

“Alright, alright,” Joe laughed, pulling back with a grin. “Looks like someone’s ready for his second breakfast.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, your heart swelling with love for the two most important people in your life. It was the perfect start to a day that would be all about celebrating the life you’d built together.

Joe slid the tray to the bedside table, giving Hayes free rein to crawl around on the bed, his tiny legs kicking excitedly under the soft blankets. You stretched, letting the warmth of the morning and the weight of Joe’s words settle over you. Everything about this moment felt right—unhurried and filled with the kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures to be felt.

Hayes, meanwhile, was fully invested in his mission to crawl across the bed. He tugged at the hem of your pajama shirt before plopping onto Joe’s chest, making his dad laugh as he sat there proudly like he’d conquered a mountain.

“Look at this guy,” Joe said, hoisting Hayes up so they were nose to nose. “You think you’re the king of the castle, huh?”

Hayes let out a squeal, his tiny hands smacking Joe’s face in what could only be described as pure toddler enthusiasm. Joe didn’t even flinch, just caught one of Hayes’ hands and pretended to chomp on it, earning more squeals of delight.

You sat back and watched them, your chest tightening in that bittersweet way that always seemed to happen when you took a step back and truly saw them. Joe, who had spent years mastering precision on the field, was completely at ease letting your son tug on his ears and drool on his shirt. And Hayes, who had inherited his father’s boundless energy, was the happiest little boy you’d ever seen.

“You’re really good at this, you know,” you said quietly, your gaze lingering on Joe as he pulled Hayes into a bear hug.

“At what?” Joe asked, glancing at you with a raised brow.

“This,” you said, gesturing toward the two of them. “Being a dad. Being his dad.”

Joe’s expression softened, and he looked down at Hayes, who was now attempting to grab the string on Joe’s hoodie. “He makes it easy,” he said simply. “And so do you.”

Before you could respond, Hayes decided he’d had enough of the bed and began squirming in Joe’s arms, reaching for the edge like he was ready to tackle the day head-on.

“Alright, little man,” Joe said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing with Hayes perched on his hip. “Let’s get you cleaned up before you stick to something.”

You laughed as Joe carried Hayes toward the bathroom, the sound of their laughter echoing back to you. You took a moment to stretch out on the bed, savoring the quiet before the day truly began.

When Joe returned, Hayes was freshly changed and looking quite pleased with himself. Joe plopped him down in the middle of the bed, where he immediately began babbling to himself, his little hands exploring the folds of the blanket.

“I was thinking,” Joe said, sitting down beside you and leaning back on his hands. “After breakfast, we could take Hayes to the park. Let him run around a bit. Maybe tire him out so we can actually have a peaceful dinner tonight.”

You smirked, leaning into his side. “I like how you think. But you know he’s like you—boundless energy. It’s going to take more than a trip to the park to wear him out.”

Joe chuckled, his arm draping over your shoulders. “Then it’s a good thing I’ve got you to keep me in check.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest as Hayes crawled toward you, his little face lighting up when you scooped him into your lap. The three of you sat there for a while, tangled up in each other, the world outside your little bubble feeling distant and unimportant.

Eventually, the sound of Hayes’ tummy rumbling reminded you that breakfast wasn’t the only thing on the agenda. Joe stood and took the tray back to the kitchen while you changed Hayes into a tiny pair of overalls that made him look like a mini Joe.

When Joe returned, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, that’s unfair. He’s going to outshine me today.”

You grinned, adjusting Hayes’ straps. “He’s been outshining you since the day he was born, Burrow. Better get used to it.”

Joe leaned down, kissing your temple before crouching to kiss Hayes’ cheek. “As long as you two are with me, I don’t mind.”

With Hayes on Joe’s shoulders and your hand in his, the three of you headed out to start the day. It was simple, just a walk to the park, but it felt monumental in the quiet way that only family moments could.

As you walked, Joe started talking about the future—not in the usual, vague way, but with detail. About how he wanted Hayes to grow up knowing the value of hard work but also the importance of slowing down. About how he wanted to make sure you all had time to just be together, no matter how chaotic life got.

You squeezed his hand, your heart full as you watched Hayes point excitedly at a dog passing by. “Sounds like a pretty good plan,” you said, your voice soft but sure.

Joe looked at you, his smile gentle but full of meaning. “It’s the only plan that matters.”

And in that moment, with the sun shining and Hayes laughing on his dad’s shoulders, you knew you wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

Joe leaned against the kitchen counter, a spatula in one hand and a dish towel draped over his shoulder. The warm glow of the pendant lights above the kitchen island cast a golden hue over the room, complementing the aroma of garlic and rosemary wafting through the air. Dinner was simple—pan-seared chicken, roasted vegetables, and a crisp salad—but it was made with the same care and intention he put into everything for you.

Hayes had finally tapped out after a day of running wild at the park and chasing bubbles on the front lawn. Now, he was sound asleep in his crib, his tiny form sprawled out in the unbothered way only toddlers could manage.

You stood by the counter, watching Joe cook, a glass of wine cradled in your hand. The sight of him—hair slightly messy, sleeves rolled up, focused on the skillet—made your heart ache in the best way.

“Can I help with anything?” you asked, though you knew he’d say no.

Joe glanced over his shoulder, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You can keep me company. That’s help enough.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but stayed put, sipping your wine and letting the soft clinking of utensils and the low hum of music from the speaker fill the comfortable silence.

Once dinner was ready, Joe set the plates on the table, dimmed the lights, and lit a single candle in the middle. It wasn’t elaborate, but it felt intimate—like something straight out of those quiet, golden moments you dreamed about when imagining a life together.

“You really went all out, huh?” you teased as you sat down.

Joe shrugged, pouring himself a glass of wine before taking a seat across from you. “It’s our anniversary. Gotta remind you why you put up with me.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I don’t need a candlelit dinner to remember that, Joe. But I appreciate it.”

The two of you ate slowly, savoring both the food and the moment. Conversation flowed easily, starting with Hayes and his antics at the park before drifting into memories of the early days of your relationship.

“Do you remember our first date?” Joe asked, leaning back in his chair, his plate nearly empty.

You grinned. “Which part? The awkward small talk or when you almost spilled your drink all over me?”

Joe groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I thought we agreed to never bring that up again.”

“No, you agreed to that,” you said, laughing. “I still think it’s funny.”

Joe shook his head, but his smile gave him away. “I was so nervous. I thought I was going to blow it.”

You reached across the table, resting your hand over his. “You didn’t. Even then, I knew you were something special.”

Joe’s expression softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I didn’t always make it easy, though.”

You knew what he was referring to—those moments when his career demands felt like a wedge, when the long-distance stretches tested your patience and resolve. There were times you wondered if it would be easier to let go, but something always pulled you back to him, like gravity.

“Neither did I,” you admitted. “But we figured it out. And now look at us.”

Joe’s gaze drifted toward the baby monitor on the counter, where the soft static hum of Hayes’ breathing filled the room. “Yeah,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Now we’ve got the best thing we’ve ever done.”

You followed his gaze, your chest tightening with emotion. “We really do.”

Joe’s eyes flicked back to you, a spark of mischief in them now. “You know, I was thinking...”

“Oh, no. That’s never good,” you teased, but your heart fluttered at the way he was looking at you.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Hear me out. I was just thinking how much fun Hayes would have with a little brother or sister.”

Your brows shot up, and you set your glass down carefully. “Joe Burrow, are you saying you want another baby?”

“Not right this second,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “But... yeah. I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “And what exactly have you been thinking?”

Joe leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Well, if it’s a boy, I can already picture Hayes teaching him how to throw a football. They’d be inseparable—best friends for life. And if it’s a girl...” He paused, a soft smile spreading across his face. “If it’s a girl, she’s gonna have me wrapped around her finger from the moment she’s born.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like a blanket. “You’ve really thought this through, huh?”

Joe nodded, his gaze steady. “I just... I love what we’ve built together. And I want more of it. More memories, more love, more us.”

You reached across the table again, your hand finding his. “I want that too,” you said softly.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the conversation settling in the most beautiful way. Outside, the world carried on, but here, in the soft glow of the candlelight, it felt like time had stopped, just for you.

Eventually, Joe stood, clearing the plates and tidying up the kitchen while you refilled your wine glass. When he was done, he settled next to you on the couch, Hayes’ baby monitor still humming on the side table.

Joe pulled you close, his arm draped over your shoulders as he kissed your temple. “Happy anniversary,” he murmured.

You smiled, leaning into him as the warmth of the day’s love and laughter lingered in the air. “Happy anniversary, Joe.”

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[lumberrobot]

Floral Sentiments

pham hanni x fem!reader

notes: found this random prompt on this site so might as well try to write something with it 'cause I was too lazy to think of an actual plot oiaiwdiwd (adv happy birthday hanni :DD)

warning/s: first post wapondiwnf

genre: fluff

prompt: person a owns a flower shop and person b comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “how do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

Hanni was used to quiet mornings in her flower shop. The soft hum of the shop's speakers, mingling with the subtle fragrance of fresh blooms, always put her at ease. Sipping her tea, she glanced at her to-do list—rearranging vases, watering the orchids—nothing out of the ordinary. She figured it would be a slow day. No major holidays loomed on the horizon, aside from those quirky ones no one really celebrated. Who the hell buys flowers for No Pants Day?

Mid-rearranging a vase of sunflowers, their golden petals glowing like tiny suns, the familiar chime of the doorbell broke her tranquility. She turned to see a girl, about her age, standing by the counter. Dark eyes, arms crossed, a scowl softening as she took in the shop’s surroundings. Hanni removed her gloves and walked over, curiosity piqued.

The girl slapped a $20 bill on the counter without so much as a greeting. “How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flowers?”

Hanni blinked. Did I hear that right? She tilted her head slightly, unsure how to respond.

"Uh, excuse me, what?" Hanni asked, her voice tentative. She tried not to stare, but the girl's unexpected beauty and intensity threw her off balance.

“Did I stutter?” the girl snapped, though the sharpness in her voice softened. Her shoulders relaxed, and a small, awkward smile crept across her lips. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”

Hanni let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “No worries,” she said, grinning. “Just... I’ve never had that kind of request before.”

The girl chuckled, her posture loosening even more. "Yeah, I figured. Thanks for not kicking me out. I’m Y/N, by the way."

“Hanni” she replied, still amused by the oddness of it all.

Y/N nodded, then sighed, frustration flickering across her face. “Long story, trust me.”

“Well,” Hanni said, glancing around the empty shop, “lucky for you, I’ve got all day.”

She gestured for Y/N to take a seat, and the girl hesitated before pulling out a chair from the corner of the small shop. As Y/N settled down, Hanni caught a glimpse of the tension in her face—something deeper than just the initial shock value of the request.

“So,” Hanni began, “what’s the story behind the flower-inspired ‘fuck you’?”

Y/N leaned back, exhaling as if she were about to confess a deep secret. She stared at a bouquet nearby, eyes narrowing. “So, there’s this guy…”

Hanni raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, letting Y/N explain. Flower shop drama wasn’t new to her, but Y/N didn’t seem like the type to send a bouquet for a simple apology.

“He’s my co-worker. Always making these little comments—like, pretending to compliment me but really putting me down,” Y/N muttered, frustration clear in her voice.

“Backhanded compliments,” Hanni said knowingly.

“Exactly. So, I want to give him something subtle that says, ‘I’m not as dumb as you think I am, and you should really watch yourself.’” Y/N smirked, her intensity returning.

Hanni’s eyes lit up with a playful glint. “Oh, I can work with that.”

She moved around the shop, scanning the flowers and tapping her chin in thought. A few minutes later, she started rearranging various blooms, carefully crafting a combination that would carry the perfect passive-aggressive undertone. Y/N watched as Hanni worked, her frown melting into curiosity.

The bouquet slowly took shape, flowers layered in ways that would seem beautiful at first glance but carried hidden messages for those who knew what to look for. Hanni worked in silence, fully focused, occasionally glancing up to see if Y/N approved. Y/N, for her part, seemed content to let Hanni work her magic.

After what felt like a short eternity, Hanni stepped back, admiring her creation. “There you go,” she said, giving a small, satisfied smile. “This should get your message across.”

Y/N inspected the bouquet with a satisfied smile. “This is perfect. Thanks, Hanni.”

As she reached for her bag, she paused, as if considering something. “Hey, one more thing…”

Hanni, still basking in the satisfaction of crafting such an unusual bouquet, looked up. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, an almost shy look crossing her face. “If I wanted to, you know, take someone out on a date… What kind of flowers should I get?”

The question caught Hanni off guard. A small, inexplicable pang of disappointment bloomed in her chest. She forced a smile, her thoughts racing. So she likes someone already?

“Oh, well… I’d say something simple, elegant. Something that shows interest but not too over the top. Maybe…” She trailed off, resisting the urge to let her emotions show. After a brief pause, Hanni quickly pulled together a response that was vague but safe. “Something that makes a good impression, but leaves room for more.”

Y/N smiled, clearly liking the idea. “Got it. Thanks again, Hanni.”

With that, Y/N turned and left, bouquet in hand, the bell above the door chiming softly as she disappeared into the street.

Hanni stood there, watching her leave, a strange heaviness settling in her chest. She shook her head, trying to brush off the disappointment. It was silly.

Y/N was just another customer… right?

=========

The next day, Hanni arrived at her shop early, her thoughts still swirling with the remnants of her encounter with Y/N. As she approached the door, ready to unlock it, something caught her eye.

On the doorstep lay a beautiful bouquet, a gorgeous arrangement—simple, elegant, just like she had described, wrapped delicately in brown paper and tied with twine. A note was tucked among the flowers, and Hanni’s heart raced as she crouched down to pick it up.

Opening the note, she read:

“For you. Hope you like them. - Y/N”

Below the message, Y/N’s number was written neatly in her familiar handwriting. Hanni stared at the flowers, a warm smile spread across her face as she took in the arrangement. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what had just happened.

As she finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, the sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over the flowers. She placed the bouquet on the counter, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest.

Maybe Y/N wasn’t just another customer after all.

[dear-ao3]

how to get f1 driver cards, a guide for mclaren, mercedes and williams (more to come)

im going to start by saying that there is a high high chance not everything on this is accurate. for some reason this is a stupidly complex process and i am just trying my best :)

what are driver cards? every year (most) teams have cards made of their drivers with their pictures and sometimes stats and fun facts, etc. they change every year and are collectible. theyre free, technically, as long as you pay for the postage.

ive sent away for some of them before, and those are the teams i have included as i know these ones work. will add more teams on as i attempt others this year.

MERCEDES

objectively this is the easiest one to get. you fill out an online form and if you are lucky you will get cards sent to you. the form is live for the 2025 cards as of me posting this.

beware: the address form is formatted for UK addresses only for some reason. if you are trying to send to the US with an address that is two lines (ie, a street address with an apartment number or a po box) there is a good chance it wont work. i have gotten it to work for street addresses only (both attempts to have them sent to an apartment address failed). this one also took the longest, several months.

all other teams require a double envelope, stamp and letter situation.

very basically, you address an envelope to the team and put yourself as the return address. it needs a stamp (domestic if the team is in your country, international if it is not)

write a letter to the team, something along the lines of "dear x team, i am a big fan of you and your drivers x and y and i like watching you / rooting for you for xyz reasoning (etc etc). i was wondering if i could get the 20xx drivers cards? thanks (name)." it doesnt have to be super fancy.

put this letter in the envelope along with another a5 size folded envelope addressed to yourself (this is the envelope that the team will send your cards in, make sure it is the right size and also has your correct address.

the a5 envelope also needs a stamp and here is where it gets a little tricky. if the team is based in the same country you are you use a domestic stamp. if you are Not in the same country as the team this is the terribly fun (read: tricky) part.

you can either include the pounds/euros needed to buy a stamp in the envelope or you can purchase an international stamp from that country and use that. i have gone the stamp route before (ordered royal mail stamps off of British amazon) and it worked. i put five second class barcoded stamps on each envelope and they came back to me okay. (could also use first class stamps, i dont remember why i ended up choosing the second class ones) (you have to check the stamp prices and make sure that the total stamp costs equal how much it costs to send a letter internationally (second class stamps are 85p as of me writing this and it costs 2.80 pounds to mail a letter internationally from the uk to the us specifically (all of this is findable on the royal mail site) so i would put 4 or 5 stamps to be safe per envelope in case stamp prices rise again)

put that whole folded envelope and your letter in your addressed envelope to the team and mail it out.

MCLAREN

they seem to be pretty responsive. i got my card for mclaren within i think 2 or 3 months. be extra careful when addressing your envelopes to the uk, the seven letter/ number combination is the most important and should be the most legible thing. i think this is formatted correctly. (again, im from the us. uk addresses confuse the hell out of me)

address:

FAO: Autograph Cards McLaren Technology Centre Chertsey Road Woking GU21 4YH UK

WILLIAMS

again, they were pretty responsive. i think i got mine in 2 or 3 months. my envelope was the wrong size for this team but they sent me the cards anyway in a different size envelope. again, really make sure that your seven number/letter thing is clear. there both a O and 0 in it so i would put a slash through the 0.

address:

Fan Mail Williams Grand Prix Engineering Grove Wantage Oxfordshire OX12 0DQ UK

fun little note: my sister and i both sent away for mclaren and williams last year. despite them having the Exact Same Addresses and being sent from The Exact Same Post Office on the Exact Same Day, my mclaren one was returned to sender for the reason unable to be delivered. my sister got her mclaren card in the mail the next week. and i got my williams card but my sisters got returned to sender for the reason of unable to be delivered. i have absolutely no idea why. not remotely. i resent both of them and had no problems the second time around.

good luck. its kinda challenging but it is fun. im going to try to send off for more this year so ill provide more advice once i figure it out but as for now, i know these ones work. i would wait until the start of the season to mail any requests, though fill out the mercedes one sooner if you want that :)

and, proof that i got my driver cards and im not just making this up:

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Four -- Vox

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter? Correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,225

Previous Part: Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, but it seems to have some rather excited fans so here is chapter four (and the fourth thing I'm publishing today. We're very done for the day. I am tried and have actual work to do.) Also guys, I'm screaming. I accidentally deleted the whole things right before I was gonna post it. Thankfully I had a draft from when it was almost done save but like, god that sucked.

On the screen was Vox, seated behind a desk.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain has-been how has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence." Vox was saying, a poorly drawn image of Alastor displayed on the screen to his left.

Y/n saw Alastor's ear twitch with irritation.

"Yeah." she sighed, folding her arms across her chest, "Vox has gone kinda crazy since you left. I told you, things got tough."

"Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight's program." Vox said through the TV, shuffling a stack of papers.

Alastor changed the channel with another flick of his finger.

"Hun, don't worry yourself with it." Y/n advised, "He's still gonna be there tomorrow."

The new channel showed a talk-show set up, Vox-2-Nite, where Vox was both host and guest.

"So, the old Radio Demon is back in town." host Vox was saying to himself as guest.

"Why is he hanging around?" guest Vox asked, taking a sip from a mug that had 'fuck Alastor' written on the side.

"Al." Y/n warned, sensing her friends irritation growing.

"What does that mean for your family?" Host Vox asked before Alastor changed the channel again.

Vox was on the screen again, before a bright red curtain.

"Well, handily, I've got good news." he was saying theatrically, "He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostel-"

Alastor changed the channel again. This time to one of Vox's mega church broadcasts. Vox stood in the center of the screen wearing a pope's hat with an inverted cross on it.

"But the demon is a coward!" he announced, his words matching the previous channels sentiments perfectly.

"Jesus, V." Y/n asked, eyes wide, "How many channels are you running this on?"

"You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I'm visual, he's barely audible."

"Y/n." Alastor hummed, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You wont mind if I handle this quickly. We can have our little chat after, I promise. It wont take more than a moment."

"I don't know, Al..." Y/n sighed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot slightly, "This isn't good for you, letting him get under your skin like this."

Alastor changed the channel again. A cooking show appeared and Vox was standing before the oven, singing along to the music playing in the background.

"But he should've stayed away! While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video!"

Vox on screen turned to the oven as he sang, opening it and pulling out a deer's head on a plate. Y/n bristled at the site, her horns growing just the tiniest bit longer, her teeth just the smallest bit sharper.

"And now his medium is getting bloody rare!"

"Al?" Y/n asked sharply.

"Yes, darling?"

"I lied." Y/n turned to face him, "He took this shit musical. Rip him a new one."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed, excitedly grabbing onto Moxxie's arm, "We're gonna get a show!"

Alastor's grin widened at Y/n's words, if that was even possible. He stuck his hand out to the side, his microphone materializing in his grasp.

"Lucky for me, I've got the best voice this side of the divide on my side." he noted, shooting Y/n a look.

Her eyes flashed red.

"You flatter me."

Alastor brought his microphone to his mouth, suddenly exceedingly calm. The imps present in the room watched in shock as his ears flattened along his head.

"Salutations, good to be back on the air!" he announced into the device, "Yes I know it's been a while since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!"

Vox's brow furrowed on the TV screen as he inched up close to the camera.

"What a dated voice." Vox shot back, clearly listening to Alastor's broadcast on the set of his cooking show.

"Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre, video podcast." Alastor continued, not showing any sign he had noticed the TV demon's insult, "Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?"

"Ignore his chirping!" Vox commanded from the TV.

Y/n laughed and, turning to face Alastor, realized the man held a hand out to her. With a smile, she took it and he spun her into his arms as he spoke. The music echoed through the office as Alastor raised the volume on the TV once again.

"Every day he's got a new format."

Alastor spun Y/n back out again as the pair began dancing.

"You're looking at the future!" Vox yelled back, "He's the shit that comes before that!"

As Alastor spun Y/n back into his arms, she laid one of her hands on top of his holding the microphone and pulled it closer to her face.

"Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support?" she sang in a clear voice, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie's eyes widening with recognition at the sound, "He'd be powerless without the other Vees."

"That's true!" Alastor noted, pulling the microphone back to himself as Y/n let go of his hand and he spun her back out again.

"It can't be..." Moxxie muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit!" Millie cut him off, excitement creeping into her voice, "There's no way, Y/n is the guest star?"

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Blitzo asked, turning to Millie and Moxxie as they watched the couple continue to dance.

"Well, Sir," Moxxie began, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, "back before the Radio Demon went missing, he used to bring guests onto the show on occasion. There was one guest he never named during his broadcasts however. She mostly just sang songs and chatted with him but, she sounded an awful lot like Y/n did just now."

"You don't say." Blitzo hummed, his arms crossed as he turned back to Y/n and Alastor, "So much for little miss 'oh, my life has been so boring. You'd probably just fall asleep if I started talking about it!' She is so gonna get it later."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hand and leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing as well, using the music emanating from the TV as a base.

"And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team!"

"Hold on!" Vox yelled.

"I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" Alastor finished, ignoring the demon once again.

"You old timey prick!" Vox exclaimed, his face glitching slightly as Y/n wandered back over to Alastor.

She leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tilting her head to the side in amusement as they watched Vox struggle.

"I'll show you suffering!"

"Aww, the TV is buffering." Y/n said, leaning into the microphone, her voice dripping with sickly sweet pity.

"I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u" Vox exclaimed as his technical difficulties seemed to grow worse.

Alastor and Y/n exchanged a wicked pair of smiles as the TV flickered out. Shadows crept from the edges of the room, encircling their feet. Alastor held an arm out to Y/n once again which she took with a smile. In a flash of darkness, they were gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Loona asked, stalking into the room.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Five -- The Conversation

[natsgrave]

MEAN IT | scarlett johansson

on your lips just leave it, if you don't mean it. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! main m.list whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N and Scarlett had always been the couple that everyone admired. Their relationship was often described by friends and acquaintances as "perfect." Living in a cozy apartment in NYC, they had spent two wonderful years together. Their relationship was marked by sweet gestures, tender moments, and an unwavering bond. Scarlett, who was known for her strong and assertive personality, was always soft and gentle when it comes to Y/N. Every day, without fail, Scarlett would make Y/N feel special, telling her how much she loves her.

Every morning, Scarlett would wake up before Y/N, slipping out of bed quietly to prepare breakfast. She knew Y/N loved pancakes, so she made them from scratch, humming softly to herself as she worked. By the time Y/N woke up, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pancakes filled the apartment.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Scarlett would say, a smile lighting up her face as Y/N shuffled into the kitchen.

Y/N would smile back, eyes still heavy with sleep. "Morning, love."

Scarlett would set a plate of pancakes in front of her, sitting down across the table. "Eat up. You've got a big day ahead."

Y/N would take a bite and sigh contentedly. "You always know how to make my mornings better."

One day, while Y/N was at work, Scarlett decided to surprise her with lunch. She knew Y/N had a hectic schedule, so she packed a homemade meal and headed to her office.

When she arrived, Y/N's eyes lit up with surprise and delight. "Scarlett! What are you doing here?"

"I brought you lunch," Scarlett said, holding up the bag. "Thought you could use a break."

They sat together in the small break room, sharing stories and laughter. Y/N couldn't stop smiling. "You always know how to brighten my day."

On Sundays, they had a tradition of spending the day in their pajamas, doing nothing but lounging around the apartment. Scarlett loved these moments, where they could just be themselves without any distractions.

They would cuddle on the couch, watching movies or reading books. Scarlett would often glance over at Y/N, who would be engrossed in her book, and feel a surge of love and gratitude.

"I love you, you know that?" Scarlett would say, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N's face.

Y/N would look up, her eyes sparkling. "I love you too, Scarlett. More than anything."

In the evenings, they enjoyed taking walks around their neighborhood. The city was always bustling, but in those moments, it felt like it was just the two of them.

Hand in hand, they would walk and talk about their dreams and future plans. Scarlett loved these conversations, where they could dream together.

"Do you think we'll always be this happy?" Y/N would ask, looking up at the stars.

Scarlett would squeeze her hand. "I know we will. I'll make sure of it."

On their anniversaries, Scarlett always went all out. One year, she surprised Y/N with a rooftop dinner. She had decorated the space with fairy lights and candles, creating a magical ambiance.

Y/N's eyes widened as they stepped onto the rooftop. "Scarlett, this is amazing!"

Scarlett pulled her into a gentle embrace. "Only the best for you, my love."

They danced under the stars, holding each other close. Scarlett whispered sweet nothings into Y/N's ear, making her giggle and blush.

"I can't believe how lucky I am to have you." Y/N said softly.

Scarlett smiled, kissing her forehead. "I'm the lucky one."

Some of their best moments were the quiet nights in, where they would simply sit together and enjoy each other's company. Scarlett loved to play with Y/N's hair, weaving it into intricate braids.

"You're so good at this." Y/N would murmur, her eyes half-closed in contentment.

Scarlett would chuckle softly. "I just like playing with your hair. It's so beautiful, just like you."

Y/N would blush and lean into her touch. "You're too sweet, Scarlett."

Scarlett had a habit of leaving little notes for Y/N around the apartment. Whether it was a simple "I love you" or a longer message expressing her feelings, these notes never failed to make Y/N smile.

One day, Y/N found a note tucked into her bag that read, "Thank you for being the light of my life. I can't wait to see you tonight."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. Scarlett always knew how to make her feel cherished and loved.

Sometimes, they would stay up late into the night, talking about everything and nothing. Scarlett loved these moments of vulnerability and openness.

"Do you ever think about the future?" Y/N would ask, her voice soft in the darkness.

"All the time," Scarlett would reply, taking Y/N's hand in hers. "And every time, I see you in it."

Y/N would smile, her heart swelling with love. "I can't imagine my future without you."

Whenever Y/N felt insecure or anxious, Scarlett was always there to reassure her. She would hold her close, whispering words of comfort and love.

"You're amazing, Y/N," Scarlett would say, her voice firm and sincere. "Don't ever doubt that. I love you more than anything in this world."

Y/N would nod, feeling a sense of calm wash over her. "Thank you, Scarlett. I don't know what I would do without you."

Every day, Scarlett made it a point to remind Y/N of her love. Whether it was a kiss on the cheek before heading out or a sweet text message during the day, she never let Y/N forget how much she meant to her.

One morning, as Y/N was getting ready for work, Scarlett wrapped her arms around her from behind.

"I love you," Scarlett whispered, kissing the back of her neck. "Don't ever forget that."

Y/N smiled, turning around to face her. "I love you too, Scarlett. More than words can say."

Despite all these sweet moments, Y/N noticed a change. Scarlett became distant, preoccupied, and often seemed lost in thought. Her usual warmth replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. It started with missed calls and shorter texts, and Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The final straw came when Y/N stumbled upon a message on Scarlett's phone from Addison, Scarlett's ex of ten years.

Y/N's heart sank as she read the messages. They were friendly, but there was an undeniable familiarity and intimacy that made Y/N's blood run cold. She decided she couldn't stay silent any longer. That evening, as Scarlett walked through the door, Y/N confronted her.

"Scarlett, we need to talk." Y/N said, her voice trembling.

Scarlett looked up, her expression guarded. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I found messages from Addison on your phone," Y/N began, trying to keep her voice steady. "Why didn't you tell me she was back in your life?"

Scarlett's face paled, and she took a deep breath. "I didn't think it was a big deal. We're just friends now."

"Just friends?" Y/N's voice rose. "Why have you been so distant then? Why didn't you tell me about her?"

Scarlett sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I didn't want to worry you. Addison came back into my life suddenly, and it's been... complicated."

"Complicated how?" Y/N pressed, tears welling up in her eyes.

Scarlett hesitated before finally speaking. "Addison reached out to me. She wanted to meet up, and... I didn't hesitate to go. We've been seeing each other as friends, trying to be civil." Scarlett admitted, avoiding Y/N's gaze.

Y/N felt a sinking feeling in her chest. "Civil?" Y/N repeated, her voice breaking. "It doesn't seem like just civility, Scarlett. You've been distant, you've changed! What's going on?"

Scarlett looked at Y/N, pain etched on her face. "Seeing Addison again brought back a lot of memories, Y/N. Feelings I thought I had buried. We talked, and it was like we never lost communication. All the old feelings came rushing back."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. "What are you saying, Scarlett?"

"I... I still love Addison," Scarlett said quietly, the words hanging heavily in the air. "Seeing her again brought everything back."

Y/N felt like the ground had been pulled from under her. Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "So, in the two years we've been together, she was always in your heart? Then where was I, Scarlett? Did I ever mean anything to you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Scarlett closed her eyes, a single tear escaping. "You were never there, Y/N. I thought I could move on, that I could love you the way you deserve. But it was never fully you. It never became you."

The room fell silent as Y/N absorbed the painful truth. Her heart shattered into pieces. She had given everything to Scarlett, only to find out she was living in someone else's shadow.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Y/N whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Why did you let me believe we had a future together?"

"I thought I could make it work," Scarlett replied, her own voice breaking. "I didn't want to hurt you. I thought if I just tried hard enough, I could let go of Addison."

"But you couldn't," Y/N said, her voice hollow. "And now I'm the one who's left broken."

"I'm so sorry, Y/N." Scarlett apologize.

"It's like, last night we were more than fine." Y/N said, letting out a teary laugh, "You only let me hold you because she can't." 

"Forgive me, Y/N." Scarlett said, reaching out to touch Y/N's hand, but Y/N pulled away, her eyes filled with hurt and confusion.

"Don't mess with my head," Y/N shook her head, anger and hurt mingling in her voice. "You shouldn't have told me you're falling if your feet is still on the ledge."

Scarlett stepped closer, her eyes pleading. "I need you, Y/N. I need you in my life."

"Don't tell me that you need me," Y/N shook her head, stepping back further. "You can't keep doing this to me. You can't keep saying you need me when you still have one foot in the past."

Scarlett tried to approach Y/N again, leaning in to kiss her forehead, but Y/N stepped back, holding up her hand to stop her. "Don't kiss me, no, don't kiss me right now."

Scarlett's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I tried to move on, I tried to be the person you deserve, but I couldn't. Addison's presence brought back so many memories, so many feelings."

Scarlett's tears fell freely now. "I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I thought I could love you and let go of Addison. But I failed. It was like old times, like no time had passed. We talked, and the spark was still there. I fell in love with her all over again. I'm so sorry. "

Y/N's heart shattered even more at Scarlett's words. She turned away, unable to bear the sight of the woman she loved admitting she loved someone else. "How could you do this to me? To us?"

Scarlett's voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry. I wish I could change how I feel, but I can't."

Y/N wiped her tears, her voice cracking. "I thought we had something special. I thought you loved me."

Scarlett stepped closer, desperate to make Y/N understand. "I do love you. But my love for Addison never went away. I thought it had, but I was wrong. I never meant to hurt you."

Y/N's voice was filled with resignation. "But you did. You hurt me more than I ever thought possible." Y/N took a deep breath, wiping away her own tears. "Scarlett, I loved you with everything I had. I gave you my heart, my soul, and you couldn't even see me. You were always looking back, never fully here with me."

"I know. And that's my biggest regret."

Y/N nodded, her resolve firming up. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that everything's okay when it's not. You need to figure out what you really want, Scarlett. Because I can't be in a relationship where I'm second best."

Scarlett's heart broke as she realized the finality in Y/N's words. "I love you, Y/N. I do."

Y/N looked at her, pain etched across her face. "On your lips just leave it, if you don't mean it." she said softly, her voice breaking.

With that, Y/N walked out of the apartment, she felt a mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. The place that had once been a sanctuary now felt like a prison. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she needed to get away from the pain, from the memories, from Scarlett. 

Scarlett was left standing alone, the weight of her choices heavy on her shoulders. Scarlett watched Y/N leave, her own heart heavy with regret. She knew she had made a mistake, one that had cost her the most beautiful thing she had ever had. But it was too late. The damage was done, and she was left to face the consequences of her actions alone. As Y/N disappeared into the night, Scarlett knew that she had lost something irreplaceable, and she had no one to blame but herself.

As Y/N walked through the bustling streets of New York, the city lights blurred by her tears, she knew that she would have to find a way to heal from this heartbreak. She had loved Scarlett deeply, but in the end, it wasn't enough. Now, she had to learn to love herself again, to find her own way in a world that had suddenly become so much darker. She needed to figure out her own feelings and decide what to do next. All she knew right now was that her heart had been shattered, and it would take time to heal.

[d1s1ntegrated]

omg ur streamer shigaraki is SO MHMGGGFFFFF, ive been thinking ab shigaraki w his (super out of his league heaven sent) gf and how chat goes crazy when he does a gf reveal at like a 1 mil milestone or whatever.. GAWDDDDD

“chat is this real”

“How did he pull HER?” type beat

streamer!shigaraki: gf reveal! 1mil subs :)

mini smau/lowkey crack

ignore how poorly made the tweets are i did my best 😔

█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

"alright fucks we somehow made it to a million, i'm gonna finally prove im not lying and i do in fact know the touch of a woman"

chat going absolutely wild waiting for her to show up

instead he gets up, goes off cam, and returns with a cardboard cutout of some girl from high school dxd and the chat immediately spams L

->"loser we knew u didn't have a gf"

->"touch grass buddy come on"

->"go back 2 streaming games bro"

->"it's ok we're all a little delulu sometimes"

->"ur still my fav bro"

->"buddy...."

->"clapped"

->"not the dxd girl wtf"

->"ew"

->"LLLLLLLLLLLLLL"

->"troll"

he reads the chat out loud, stopping specifically on "troll". he smiles wide and nods

"yeah, i guess i am a troll. i dunno, what do you think babe?"

an unfamiliar voice rings out, muffled from the side; "you might be"

you come out from the side to "read the chat" better and they stop altogether, like chat literally dies for a few seconds

->"what."

->"WWWWWWWWWWW"

->"ain't no way"

->"HOW"

->"how much does he pay u"

->"NO SHOTTJWJW"

->"YO????????"

->"HE PULLED HER??????"

->"W"

->"IS THIS REAL??"

->"guys he's lying it's his sister"

->"he doesn't have a sister dumb fuck"

->"ON GOD??1?1?2"

->"CAN U BE MY GF TOO"

->"SHIG UR GF SO HOT PLS DONT DIE"

->"on my knees crying"

->" ('-')7 sorry we doubted u"

->" ('-')7"

->" (•_•)777777777"

->"W"

-> "w chain"

->"W"

->"W"

->"W"

you sit on his lap and he grins, laughing at the reactions of the chat

"i fucking told you"

you laugh and read the chats out loud, answering a few of them along the way

"no i'm not his sister, ew, it's very real, we've been together for a while now, also that cutout is mine, i bought it for the stream"

over the next few hours, both of your phones go off repeatedly with notifications. social media sites are booming with your reveal, and #shiggygfreveal becomes a top tag on twitter.

scrolling through the tag, you find multiple posts about how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, etc

u both finally decide to collab, which brings a huge number of followers up QUICKLY

chat is forever stunned and bowing at shiggys feet because of it ('-')7

██████████

guys lmk if i should keep making this smau/other ones cause this was kinda fun ngl

hope u enjoyed :-3

fank u 4 the request sweet babe @yuckyyenaa ! 🥳🫶

[ki-yomii]

beg | myg

➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader

➥ word count | 1.2k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, mild degradation, mild praise kink, established relationship, rough oral (m receiving), throatfucking, teasing, pet names, throat bulge, studio sex, wet & messy, reader wears a necklace with yoongi's initial

➥ summary | requested from this - "Oh no, not until you beg." & "Relax your throat." With Min Yoongi :3

➥ notes | for anon~ hope you enjoy 🧡 un-edited, I’ll come back to fix things when it’s not 2 AM lol

masterlist | ask box | AO3

The low hum of the A/C unit overhead and the whir of the computer fan kicking on is almost enough to drown out the wet gags and gargled breathing but only just.

Not that it really matters - the hours had long since crept past midnight, and Yoongi was meticulous when it came to the design of his studio.

Key pad, double doored, soundproofed to hell and back; the whole shebang.

Millions of won poured into the construction of the four walls that made up his altar, his church. Furthermore, not only did others give a wide berth when he's on-site at HYBE, but even fewer have the special privilege of being granted access to his private sanctum.

You're one of the lucky ones.

Mind, it took several (long) months of veiled suggestions and cajoling to get you to where you are now, but it was worth it in the end.

Watching a man so thoroughly married to his work set aside his convictions to give attention to your relationship doesn't sit right with you. Plus, it wasn’t sustainable in the long run - even though you appreciate the effort.

No, this arrangement is much better - the best of both worlds.

Not only do you get to spend time with him, he gets to share what he loves. A win-win for everyone involved, but especially for you when Yoongi is horny and agitated.

“Mm, come on, baby,” Yoongi husks, wicking away the mascara clinging to the swell of your cheek with a rough thumb, “I know you can take me all the way. Now, stop playing, and relax your throat.”

Burning eyes fluttering open, you take in the blurry upside-down view that greets you through clumpy lashes; a sea of dark wood, the pale stretch of his legs, the pool of black basketball shorts puddled around his ankles.

Propped up as you are, head dangling over the thin leather armrest of the couch, you can't get a good angle without giving yourself a crick. Little spasms are already shooting through your neck, and down in between your shoulders because of the lack of proper support.

Something you'll definitely be paying for later.

But you're not about to stop Yoongi.

Not when he has you laid out on your back with his cock in your mouth, both of you working towards stuffing it down your throat. Even if your lips are fucked raw and swollen, your chin slick with spit and pre-cum.

Your tongue stretches out to flick over the fat head of his cock when he slides free with a sticky pop. “Fuck yeah, just like that.”

You hum low in the back of your throat, threads of arousal shivering down your spine as your belly swoops at the low rumble of his voice, the delicate trace of his fingers along the sides of your neck.

He grunts when you dig the tip of your tongue into his weeping slit, lapping and swirling around the spongy crown.

“Heh, you’re such a filthy bitch for me, aren’t you,” Yoongi says, his voice breathless and cracking around the edges. “Now, are you ready to be a good girl and swallow my dick?”

Inhaling deep, you let your breath shudder from you on a shaky moan that teases the insides of his thighs, the base of his cock, “Yes, please. Want it, Yoongs.”

Yoongi hums, satisfied.

“Watch those teeth,” is the only warning you get.

Then he's cradling your jaw with his thumbs and nudging his hips forward to grind against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you drop your mouth open into a relaxed circle for Yoongi to fuck into.

The initial slide is smooth, aided by the strings of spit and pre-cum clinging to the lower half of your face. Though trouble begins the deeper Yoongi presses towards the back of your throat.

Your muscles tense as your mouth spreads wider and wider to accommodate his girth. An ache settles deep in your temples, little shocks of discomfort shooting down through the hinges of your jaw.

Tears leak past your clenched eyes, the renewed burn of mascara stinging your ducts as your sinuses clog. You whine - a raspy, muffled sound as your tongue wriggles along the underside of his shaft.

He hushes you, and anchors a hand on your shoulder as the other reaches down to twine with your fingers digging into his thigh. “Doing so good for me,” Yoongi said, “fucking perfect, baby.”

Your pussy clenches, your legs tensing against the leather. Sweat gathers behind your knees, your hips shivering with the need to twist, shift, and find a modicum of friction that’ll relieve the ache building behind your navel.

“Yeah, come on, that’s it. Just a little - shit - hah, that - oh fuck!”

His hips jerk forward as you hollow your cheeks to the best of your ability, hissing as teeth scrape along the sides of his shaft as he bullies his way deeper.

And then, with a pop richoetting down your spine, the head of his cock passes the back of your throat.

“Oh, baby,” Yoongi curses, his frame wracked with tremors.

His thighs shudder against your ears, his hips tense with anticipation as he holds himself still. Your throat rebels, rippling like a vice around his shaft, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Feel’s so - feels so good. You take me so well, knew you could. You always do.”

Gagging, your head goes light and floaty at the sudden lack of oxygen, tiny cavities peppering your vision.

Then you focus on breathing through your nose.

In - one, two, three. Out - one, two, three.

Over and over again until the mounting animal panic subsides, and you're left with tingling limbs and a throbbing cunt.

Yoongi groans, “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Thumbs bracketing the sides of your neck stroke over the visible bulge of his shaft straining against the chain of your necklace, the delicate ‘Y’ charm branding your skin.

It'll leave a welt everyone can see. A little mark to stake his claim. To remember him by when you're separated.

The thought gets you hotter than you care to admit.

“Can see myself in your throat, baby.”

At the praise, liquid fire pulses through your veins, and warmth blooms in your belly. Settling between your hips until your clit twitches.

Slick soaks through the seat of your panties, and you feel all at once so full, and so, so empty.

The scent of his skin - clean and clear. The musk of his cologne - earthy and masculine. The salt of him heavy on your tongue, his cock throbbing in time with his thundering heartbeat as you swallow around him reflexively.

It's enough to send you reeling with the desperation, the desire to feel him cum down your throat, to taste his pleasure.

Half feral, you try bobbing your head, fingers hooking around Yoongi’s hips to drag him into the cradle of your face deeper, faster, harder.

Only to be met with resistance as he refuses to move, to give in to the frantic movements.

Standing stock still, he lets you tug and whine and writhe until your efforts fizzle to nothing.

And only then does he respond, bending over your body to slide a hand between your thighs.

You jerk, hiccup at the feeling of his fingers inching past the soaked hem of your panties. Brushing over the silken folds of your cunt, teasing, testing the slick arousal with his knuckles.

“Oh no, baby,” Yoongi says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through his chest into yours, “You gotta beg me first.”