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popamolly · 10 months ago

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‘DANCE WITH THE DEVIL’ ALASTOR

summary. Alastor grapples with the realization that he might actually have feelings for you, as you contend with the internal conflict of obeying your mother's wishes or pursuing your own happiness.

warnings. dark romance, smut if you squint, human!alastor, age gap! you’re in your early 20s while Alastor is in his early 30s, you're naive, Alastor preys on your innocence, blood, kidnapping, implied murder, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. thank you so much for 800 followers! as well as the amount of love this story is getting! i am enjoying writing for human!Alastor and can’t for you all see where i’ll take this. enjoy sinners. (also, if you saw the rough draft and all the mistakes, no you didn’t)

One moment you were on Alastor’s cluttered desk and the next you were in his spacious bed. You had no idea how you got there as it all remained a mysterious blur. The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on both of your bodies as you two continued to move in sync with one another. Straddling his waist, the rhythmic dance against his hips had your head tossed back in pure bliss. It was a slow, deep, sensation that was vastly different from a few hours before.

His fingernails dragged across your back as he watched your face contort in pleasure, he loved the sight of you— the various marks on you caused by him stirred something within him. It made him wonder how many times can he break you before you crumbled into a million of tiny pieces.

Before you knew it, you were waking up in Alastor’s bed again, only this time you were alone just as the sun reached its peak in the sky. The sunlight was so bright you had to squint your eyes as you sat up in the bed. A delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and breakfast wafted through the air making your stomach grumble. Knowing that Alastor was perhaps in the kitchen, you pull the sheets from over you and go to stand, your legs felt like jelly and the soreness you felt in between your legs truly made it harder to walk.

You scanned the room for something to wear. All traces of modesty had disappeared since Alastor had taken you across nearly every piece of furniture in his possession, at that point what did you have to be modest about? Opting for one of his blouses, you opened his closet with the expectation of finding a more varied collection, only to discover that each blouse and pair of trousers adhered to a more monochromatic theme.

While reaching for a shirt, you accidentally knocked down another hanger. As you got on your knees to searched for the fallen garment on the floor, your fingertips brushed against a wooden box that was neatly tucked away into the shadows of the closet, sparking your curiosity. You sat down on the floor of the closet, dragging the box toward you to open it- but it was locked.

You decided to leave it be, excusing it as a mere heirloom or something of importance to Alastor. It was left in the back of your mind as you retreat from the closet, you changed into the blouse before leaving his bedroom to follow the delightful scent of breakfast- but before you left the room, you couldn't resist picking up Alastor's forgotten glasses from his nightstand.

As you made your way to the kitchen, the delicious scent of breakfast intensified. The memories of the night before lingered in your mind, a mix of passion and tenderness with Alastor. The soreness between your legs served as a reminder of the intimate moments you shared.

You found Alastor humming a jazz tune as he cooked, completely absorbed in his culinary endeavors. The clinking of utensils against pans filled the air, harmonizing with his cheerful humming. He turned to look at you, a smile spreading across his face.

"Well, good morning, my dear," Alastor greeted, his tone a mix of charm and, at least you hoped, genuine affection. "I hope you slept well."

"Goodmorning Alastor, I did sleep well, thank you," you returned his smile, feeling a sense of comfort in the domestic scene. The small kitchen table was set for two, adorned with a simple but elegant lace. Alastor had an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane tasks seem like an art form.

You took a seat at the table, placing his glasses carefully beside you. Alastor joined you, serving a delicious-looking breakfast onto your plate.

"Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the spread before you. "We had a long night so I am sure you are quite famished.”

You looked down at your silverware as you thanked him, your entire body heating up at the mention of your shared affairs last night as you dug into the meal, savoring the flavors. The comfortable silence between you and Alastor spoke volumes, a example of the connection formed between you two during the night.

Alastor sat across from you with a delighted hum, newspaper in hand while he sipped from his coffee mug in the other, "And how are you faring, my dear? I supposed I did get quite carried away." He broke the domestic silence with a grin, his eyes looking over your neck that was littered with marks. His marks.

"I'm fine," You say honestly, "I enjoyed it really, it was good...for my first time." You all but whispered the last part.

"Well that eases my worry," Alastor puts on his glasses to rest them on the bridge of his nose as he looks over his newspaper again, turning the page as he crosses his right leg over his left, “Let me know if you prefer tea in the morning, I have some brewing on the stove for the afternoon.”

Tea. You audibly gasp at the word as the realization dawned on you. You were supposed to be at home, sick in bed, and drinking tea— that was your cover for the night but the night was long since over. Glancing at the clock, you noticed that it was thirty minutes until eight o’clock, which was the usual time for breakfast to be served at your house. Your mother always expected you at the table a minute before her, groomed and ready for the day ahead. If you weren’t there on time then surely it’ll cause suspicion.

“I hate to cut this short but I have to go,” You hurriedly gobble up the rest of your food before standing up from your chair, “I have to be home soon or my mother will kill me!”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the irony in that, “Surely, you have time to at least finish your coffee?”

You spared the moment a thought but ultimately shook your head, “I’m sorry but I can’t,” you walked past Alastor to go into his bedroom to slip on your clothes from the night before. His footsteps followed, accompanied by the jingle of car keys in hand.

As you hurriedly grabbed your belongings, Alastor offered to ease your worry with a smile, "I'll drive you home. No need to rush alone in your state of distress."

Grateful for the assistance, you nodded in agreement, and together, you both left his place. You felt different now, a bit lighter, more mature as you slipped into the passenger side of Alastor's car. He held the door open and closed it for you like a true gentleman. The car ride was filled with light banter, Alastor's charismatic demeanor easing the tension that lingered from your hasty departure.

Once you reached your home, Alastor parked the car a little ways away from your estate and turned to you. "Thank you for the company, darling. I hope your mother's wrath is not as fearsome as you anticipate."

You chuckled nervously, appreciating his understanding. "I hope so too. And thank you for everything, Alastor.. I enjoyed our time together."

He leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and planted a gentle kiss on your lips. "Until we meet again," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

With a promise to see each other soon hanging in the air, you slipped through the back door of your home, grateful for the concealment it offered. Hastily, you made your way to your room, hurriedly taking off the clothes from the night before taking a moment to compose yourself. You had only a few minutes to spare and you couldn't waste them.

After freshening up in your own personal water closet, you did your hair as neatly, and quickly, as you could— following up with a light touch of makeup. The faint taste of Alastor's farewell kiss lingered, and you couldn't help but smile at your reflection in the mirror. Now, groomed and ready, you braced yourself for the day ahead and the potential questions your mother might have about your ailment.

You rushed downstairs into the dining room, the scent of freshly brewed tea and warm toast filling the air. Just as you took your seat, your mother entered, her expression stoic. Unfazed, you greeted her with a bright smile, attempting to mask any trace of your recent escapades.

"Good morning Mother, How did you sleep?" you asked cheerfully, reaching for the toast as if it were any ordinary morning.

Your mother eyed you with a raised eyebrow, as she sat down at the head of the table, allowing the maid beside her to pour her tea, "Well enough, dear. I found myself tossing and turning all night. And you? That cold seemed to be really troubling you last night."

You laughed nervously, hoping your casual demeanor would deflect any probing questions. "It was, I could hardly get out of bed last night but thankfully sleep eventually came."

She continued to observe you, suspicion lingering in her gaze. Of course she knows you snuck out but she wouldn't reveal her cards too early. She would let you have this win for now in the hopes that when your rendezvous did come to light, your spirit would be so crushed by then that you'd have no other choice but to lean on your mother for support because she knew that this was a mere distraction for you and you were nothing but a toy to the man that wanted to use you. Your mother should know, after all she was a young girl once herself. "Mm-hmm," she responded, not fully convinced as she eyed the turtleneck dress you wore. "Anything interesting happen last night?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you maintained your composure. "Not really, just a quiet night. How about you? Anything exciting on your end?"

She hesitated, scrutinizing you for a moment before deciding to drop the subject. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual."

Relieved, you continued with a light breakfast, inwardly sighing at the narrow escape. Little did your mother know about the intriguing night you had spent with Alastor, and you hoped to keep it that way—for now, at least.

As you sipped your tea, hoping to steer the conversation away from any further inquiries, your mother decided to drop a bombshell. With a casual tone, she announced, "Silly me, but I forgot to mention that we're hosting a party in two days. We must prepare you for that so I have list of errands we need to run. Oh, and I've decided it's time that I take over in your matchmaking process."

Your eyes widened in surprise, nearly choking on your tea. "A party? Matchmaking? Mom, that's a bit sudden, isn't it?"

Your mother smiled innocently as she was spreading jam on her toast. "Nonsense, dearest. You've had quite a bit of freedom lately, and I think it's only fair that I take charge of finding you a suitable partner."

You were taken aback by the revelation. "Mom, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle my own affairs. I don't need you picking a match for me."

She raised an eyebrow, her expression turning serious. "And where has that led us? It's time to consider your future. I've arranged for some eligible suitors to attend the party, and by the end of the night, we'll have a decision."

You felt a sense of frustration and helplessness. The control over your own choices slipping away yet again, replaced by the traditional expectations your mother seemed determined to enforce. As you finished your breakfast, a sense of foreboding settled in—the upcoming party was more than just a social gathering. It held the potential to reshape your life in ways you may not be ready for.

As the conversation about the upcoming party lingered, a maid entered the room, carefully placing a radio on the table. You couldn't help but notice that this particular maid was new, and a quick glance around revealed that the other servants bustling about the home were also unfamiliar faces.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you leaned in and asked your mother, "Mother, What happened to our usual staff?"

Your mother, engrossed in the morning radio, responded nonchalantly, "Oh, I fired them, dear. They simply weren't meeting my standards. Now, please hold your tongue; I'm trying to listen to the morning news."

You were left you speechless, a mix of surprise and concern washing over you. The familiar faces that had been a constant presence in your household were replaced without warning. You couldn't help but wonder what had transpired behind the scenes and what might be the real reason for this sudden change. Then you realized that maybe your mother knew of your outing with Alastor and she was acting like she didn't, and if she was, why was she acting clueless?

Your mind began swirling with questions about the upcoming party, the matchmaking, and now the unexplained dismissal of the longtime staff. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, leaving you with an uneasy feeling about the changes that were unfolding in your once-familiar surroundings.

"Oh, what a delightful morning it is! I trust everyone enjoyed a restful night, as I certainly did!" Alastor's voice resonated through the radio, carrying a distinct weight. Despite being the renowned radio show host, he seemed like an entirely different person. Though the broadcast introduced some static, his charm remained. "Let's kick off this morning with some smooth jazz tunes, shall we? I have Louis Armstrong & His Hot Seven's top hits ready to grace your ears! We'll return shortly after this brief interlude, folks!"

Alastor flipped off one switch on his microphone and activated another. The sounds of "Potato Head Blues" filled the airwaves, spreading throughout New Orleans. While the jazz played in the warehouse, Alastor rose from his chair with an irritated groan, heading towards a locked closet at the end of the hall. Using a key, he unlocked the door and descended the creaky wooden stairs. As he reached the bottom step, another voice in the room caught his attention.

"Mmmh!" The person, bound to a chair with a cloth in their mouth, struggled against their restraints, fear evident in their eyes as they observed Alastor approaching with a stoic expression. Tear-filled eyes followed his movements as he walked to a table in the corner, his fingertips brushing over an array of displayed knives. "Mmmph! Hmph!"

"Your grunts and stifled screams are growing rather tiresome," Alastor remarked, his hand hovering over one of his cherished knives with a sinister grin. Lifting it up, the blade gleamed in the light. "I understand it's rather solitary in this space. You were supposed to have a companion, but," Alastor pulled a wooden chair across the floor, creating an unsettling echo against the concrete. He positioned himself in front of the restrained individual, heightening the bone-chilling atmosphere, "plans change."

Alastor glided the blade deliberately across the person's cheek, the chilling touch of the metal causing involuntary shivers. Despite their struggles against the restraints, Alastor sighed, tapping the blade against their skin in a disturbingly mocking rhythm.

"This person, this woman," Alastor mused, tilting his head to the side, "is confusing me, and I don't like it." The sadistic atmosphere in the room thickened as he increased the pressure of the blade against their cheek, drawing blood. Suddenly, he halted, as if a realization had struck him.

"But I don't hate it either," Alastor declared with an unsettling calmness, leaving an ominous pause that lingered in the air. The duality of his emotions toward the captive person added a perplexing layer to the unfolding scene, intensifying the disturbing nature of the situation.

Alastor, maintaining his eerie composure, turned to the restrained person and asked, "What do you think? Is it true love?" A twisted amusement gleamed in his eyes as he awaited a response.

A cruel chuckle escaped him as he noticed the person's inability to answer, their mouth securely gagged. The absurdity of the question in the face of their silent predicament seemed to amuse the madman further. The room resonated with Alastor's unsettling laughter, creating an atmosphere of malevolence that hung heavily in the air. The captive, helpless and silenced, could only endure the scene unfolding before them knowing that this would be the last sight they ever see.

"One, two, three, one, two-" The ballroom echoed with the rhythmic counting of the waltz, your mother diligently guiding you through the steps. As you twirled with your elderly dance partner, your mind drifted to Alastor. The memory of dancing with him under the stars tugged at your heart, and an undeniable longing for him filled your thoughts.

In the midst of the waltz, you couldn't shake the yearning to be with him, whether listening to his radio broadcasts or engaging in casual conversations over coffee. The mere thought of Alastor sent your heart racing, leaving you flustered and questioning the nature of these emotions. Was this love? The answer seemed evident with each flutter of your heart, each bounce of the balls of your feet. Love, it seemed, had taken root in your heart.

The dance partner, an elderly servant, winced as your foot landed squarely on his toes. "I am so sorry!" you began to apologize, but your mother's sharp voice cut through the room.

"A woman must be graceful like a swan," she admonished, tapping the back of your thighs with a cane, the sting making you wince, "not a tumbling tiger."

"I—" You attempted to offer excuses, but your mother's stern gaze silenced you.

"You are distracted," she declared, shaking her head in disapproval. "I need you to dismiss whatever is taking over your mind and be present. The ball is tomorrow, and I can't have you embarrassing me on your big day." The weight of her expectations pressed upon you, urging you to set aside your personal feelings and focus on the upcoming event.

A heavy sigh escaped your mother's lips as she turned her attention to the elderly servant. "You may leave us," she instructed, her tone carrying a hint of disappointment. The servant bowed slightly, acknowledging the dismissal before exiting the ballroom.

Now alone, your mother circled you, her scrutinizing gaze causing you to shrink under her watchful eyes. The atmosphere grew tense as she examined you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

With each step, your mother's presence loomed, and the weight of her expectations seemed to intensify. The impending ball was not just an event; it was a reflection of her social standing, and any misstep could ruin her reputation. As she circled, you couldn't help but feel the pressure to conform to her ideals and expectations, the desire for personal connection and freedom momentarily eclipsed by the demands of societal decorum.

Your mother's gaze didn't miss the marks on your neck you tried to hide, remnants of the passionate night you spent with Alastor. She dismissed it with a grimace, a silent disapproval lingering in her expression.

As the tension in the room hung thick, your mother took a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak once again. "Did I ever tell you the story of how I was in love?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"Of course, you and father—" you began, but your mother cut you off with a firm gesture. "This was before your father. Before everything…before I became a woman of high society."

The weight of her words hung in the air, and you could sense that she was about to share a piece of her past, a side of her life that you hadn't even thought to acknowledge. As the ball loomed on the horizon, the barriers between you and your mother seemed to momentarily lower, providing a glimpse into a time when love and passion took precedence over societal expectations.

"I fell in love with a man during the summer months," your mother began, her voice carrying a bittersweet tone. She continued to circle you, sharing the intimate details of a past you had only glimpsed before. "He swept me off my feet quickly, and I was blinded by that love because, in my eyes, he was my happily ever after."

Your eyes widened as you listened intently to your mother's story. The ballroom, once filled with the echoes of waltz music, now held a poignant atmosphere as she delved into her personal history.

"I was merely a farmer's daughter, and he, a factory worker. It truly was a good match. But…" Her mother's expression darkened at the memory. "My dear, you can give a man everything, every ounce of your entire being, and he will still want more."

As the weight of her words settled, you could sense the bitter undertones of regret and heartache in your mother's story. It opened a window into her past, a time when love seemed boundless, yet reality had its own lessons to impart. The circling continued, each step a reminder of the complexities that love could bring.

"What I thought was love was nothing but a game to him," your mother continued, her voice carrying the weight of past heartache. The circling ceased abruptly, and her cane tapped hard against the ballroom floor as if emphasizing the gravity of her words. "He was gone with autumn, taking everything I had given him—my money, my body…my soul. I would've been truly ruined if it wasn't for your father."

She stood in front of you, gripping your chin harshly, forcing you to meet her gaze with glossy eyes. "I say all of that to say, do not be fooled by a wolf in sheep's clothing."

The words hung in the air, resonating with the tale she had just shared. The ballroom, once a place of elegance and grace, now echoed with the cautionary wisdom of a mother who had weathered the storms of love and loss. The vulnerability in her eyes and the firmness of her grip conveyed the sincerity of her warning, urging you to tread carefully in matters of the heart.

"I don't care what you do from this point forward but know this, you will attend the ball in your honor and you will marry the man who I deem worthy of you, understood?" After your mother releases her grip from your chin, tapping her cane once more, she steps aside, allowing you to pass. "Practice is over. You may go," she declares.

The aftermath of this encounter leaves tears welling in your eyes and a heavy weight in your chest. Unable to meet your mother's gaze, you hurry past her, fleeing the ballroom without a backward glance. In your rush, you even collide with a maid, but offer no apology as you hurry out the front door. Emotions swirl within you, mingling anger towards your mother with a deeper frustration directed toward yourself. The struggle between fulfilling family expectations and pursuing your own happiness weighed heavily on your mind. Are you truly prepared to forsake everything for Alastor? And more importantly, would he do the same for you?

Descending the stone steps of your home in haste, you decided to find Alastor and confront the questions you've been avoiding. Only his response would determine your next move.

"Mr. Ray?" You lean down to peer through the driver's side window, where your family chauffeur is taking a cigarette break. His complexion blends seamlessly with the setting sun. "Could you take me somewhere?"

"Without your mother?" He arches an eyebrow. "I believe you still require a chaperone, young lady."

"She allowed me out for the afternoon as long as I am back before curfew. Please, I'll be under your watchful eye. I promise to behave," you nearly beg, your puppy-dog eyes meeting his.

With a resigned sigh, the chauffeur relents. "Get in," he says, giving in to your plea and falling for your sweet lie.

With a sense of purpose, you climbed into the car, knowing that the journey ahead would be filled with uncertainty but you were determined in proving your mother wrong, you wanted to follow your happiness and Alastor was that happiness because in your mind— no, in your heart, you knew you loved him.

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usoppsstar · 1 year ago

Note

Not sure if you're taking a request or not but I would love a aftermath to the OP! Men's pregnancy story. Especially Ussop (this man does not get enough love). Love to see how they are right after their S/o gives birth to their newborn child and would love if you can keep it as detailed as the main story!

Straw hat men with their newborn baby🧸🧸🧸

Pairings:Straw hat men x f! Reader

Characters: Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, Sanji

Tw: fluff/ Angst(stressed new dads)

Notes: I've been working on this forever, so happy to finally post it; Lengthy headcannons and then a tiny short;This is proofread but there may still be mistakes🧸🧸🧸

🧸Pt 2, Pt 4 Masterlist

🧸Luffy

As capable as luffy is at saving entire countries or protecting the crew,and as much as everyone acknowledges that he's gotten the teeniest,tiniest bit less reckless, no one in the crew expects luffy to look after his new daughter by himself. Luffy gets pouty though and insists about doing most of the work himself since you already did the hard part. So the entire crew pitches in to teach him how to bathe her, dress her, put her down for naps, rock her, and everything else he needs to know. He happily tells you about everything he learned at the end of the day, and reassures that he's taking care of it and that you can sleep and play as much as you want. And he technically does the first few weeks but then things get a little harder than he expects. She's fed and changed so why isn't she sleeping? Is this the sleepy cry or the hungry cry? Are there other cries than those? She's crying so hard her tiny fists are clenched up and he doesn't know what to do.

Starts running to Chopper every time she starts fussing, thinking something is wrong, like, feeding her didn't work so she must be sick right?( At first he kind of thought making sure she was full and burped would fix everything) It isn't until after Chopper explains to him that her crying isn't always an emergency, that he tries other things to calm her down first. Toys, maybe cuddles, maybe she just needs momma.

Unlike the other boys in this list though, even if the new experience throws him for a loop,Luffy never actually gets too worried.

Even if things are a bit confusing right now, Luffy has always had a sort of steady belief that things will always work out somehow, and majority of the time he's correct. So he's always reassuring you that everything will be alright when the stress of how much responsibility you both are really holding in your hands gets to you a little. Holding you close while another member has your daughter, and promising you with a big grin that even if you both are at a bit of a loss right now, you'll both eventually get the hang of it and that you shouldn't worry about the future.

Once she reaches a few months, feeding his daughter is definitely Luffy's favorite thing in the world, it doesn't matter how much of a mess she makes. His baby loves to eat just like he does and he finds that hilarious. She really is a big eater like her dad and gets chunky off breast milk and baby food rather quickly. You were kind of worried about it( Luffy wasn't, he loved it) but felt better when Chopper reassured you that she's healthy. Just like with your pregnancy, Luffy actually takes her little diet very seriously. No adult food until chopper gives the OK and even then he doesn't give her much outside of fruit and potatoes and things like that. She's always reaching for her daddy's plate though and if she can't get any of his food she looks at you, mommy,with pleading eyes. The entire crew finds it adorable and Sanji eventually puts aside tiny, unsalted portions of a few of the dishes for her to nibble and suck on.

Like earlier stated, Luffy loves her baby fat and he likes to fake nom on her cheeks just to hear her crack up. She's like a little mochi ball and the thought of it sparks an idea in his head but you shut it right down.

Settles for nomming and kissing her fat face all the time instead, loving the burst of laughter she always lets out after he does it. Loves to blow raspberries on her belly too for the same reason, if you're ever not feeling good he'll extend her towards your face and suggest that you blow on her tummy and you always roll your eyes before doing it anyway, especially since they both love it. Ngl he treats his months- year old baby like a toy and she rolls with it.

He always has time to play with her no matter what he's doing. Even if he's eating he'll find a way to extend a stretchy arm to shake a raddle for her, or tickle her, or even just pull her from her mat and hold her at the table with you two. He can be relaxing on the Sunny's head or hanging with Chopper and Usopp. He'll immediately pick her up.If his daughter wants his attention, she'll get it.

" Do you think her cheeks stretch?" He asks one day while you three are hanging in the aquarium. Luffy has his head in your lap while your daughter tramples and climbs over his stomach to get a better look at the fish. Luffy keeps a protective hand up to keep her from toppling backwards.

" Don't even start luffy. I highly doubt the fruit you ate will somehow pass down to her." You roll your eyes and flip through your magazine on the bench beside you, while your baby babbles in the background. Luffy huffs before passing your daughter to you so she can watch the fish over your shoulder instead. Her excited steps didn't hurt but he was a little tired of having his abs walked on.

" But how many devil fruit users do we know with babies?! It could happen!" He insists again and you shake your head. There was absolutely no way his rubber powers could be genetic. Right?

***🧸***

🧸Usopp

Usopp thought he was going to be pretty prepared when it came to taking care of your new infant while you recover. Like previously mentioned, he took a lot of time preparing while you were pregnant. Doing research with Robin, asking chopper things, and building toys and equipment. At least for the first few weeks, he's pretty sure he'll have everything under control.

But twins, another baby, changes everything

You both didn't know you were having twins, so Usopp only prepared enough things for one baby, but that's alright. He'll just ask Franky to start working on another bed and changing table, oh and for now the girls can just share clothes. He made a lot anyway right? Unfortunately though, that only works until one of your girls gains weight off breast milk faster than the other and can't fit her sister's clothes. So Usopp has to make more, but while his babies still need him to hold them,and change them,and soothe them. He ends up finding time to sew and build during the hour-long intervals that the twins sleep at night. The only problem is that he usually uses that time to well, sleep, but he tells himself that once the girls have everything they need then he can get some shuteye.

The lack of real rest though and the stress of being a new dad to two new babies is evident to you and the crew. Usopp's curly hair is tangled and knotted, he's yawning, and bags are forming under his eyes. You're not so hot yourself sure. Between learning to breastfeed and healing after giving birth to twins, you're pretty exhausted still, but even so, it's obvious that your man is really struggling trying to catch up on nine months of work that he thought he already did. So you and the entire crew pitch in to help with the girls so Usopp can focus on getting sleep and preparing the extra pairs of clothes, toys, and other important things(Franky helps build and Nami and Robin help make new clothes)

Things go much better for the sniper once he's no longer sleep deprived. Making the missing things go much faster with help, and in no time he has energy to actually spend time with you and get to know his girls.

Spoils his babies so much, the moment they start to cry daddy is right there to pick them up and comfort them

You and Usopp have a few arguments about this. How you think it's better for them to self soothe sometimes and how he thinks they can learn to do that later. How you think he won't be able to put them down without them throwing a fit, and how he thinks they shouldn't have to be independent at this age. Eventually you both have to teach the twins not to expect dad all the time and it's quite the devastating,loud process.

His babies like to grab at his nose whenever it's within reach, when he's dressing them, when he's feeding them, or even just when he's holding them, their dad's nose is the most interesting thing in the world to them right now.

Loves to dress the twins in matching clothes and prays that they don't grow out of that because he'll be absolutely crushed. He enjoys dressing them in colors that match your outfits too because he thinks it's cute when you match with your girls.

He's definitely the type of new dad to take hundreds of pictures while they're babies of the cutest or most mundane things. Like one of your babies trying to climb on a barrel with nothing but a diaper on or the twins taking a nap with uncle zoro.

" Why do they smell so good? I haven't even put any lotion on them yet." Usopp asks you as he presses his face into his baby's belly,and she just gurgles before taking the opportunity to reach for her dad's vulnerable nose. You all had just gotten out of the bath and were busy dressing them when Usopp suddenly thought of this. You pause and hold your other daughter that you were busy putting socks on, to your face.

" I don't know. That's just natural baby smell I guess. Even their diapers don't smell awful yet, but that could just be because they only drink breast milk right now." You shrug before giving your daughter a kiss and resuming putting on her socks before she gets cold.

"I'm not looking forward to the day they start to." He sighs before giving your other daughter a kiss on the cheek like you did and going back to dressing her.

***🧸***

🧸Zoro

Fatherhood gets real for Zoro FAST and he is not prepared.

The nine months you were pregnant had felt so long to him back then. No one else knew this but when you both were waiting, he was always laying and thinking about what'd it be like once the baby got here. What they'd look like, how he'd hold them, even as far as the kind of person they'd grow up to be. It was all he thought about. But now that your son was here,in his arms, it suddenly felt like everything had happened in a day.

Zoro won't lie, he was a little nervous when Chopper first told him that he'd be caring for your guy's son on his own most of the time while you slept and recovered. He was relieved though when he thought that you two had a very low-maintenance baby, that only wanted to eat and sleep(kind of like his dad)

But it's not long before the sleepless nights start

The lack of sleep is something Zoro never thought about. Your son waking up multiple times throughout the night shouldn't have been a problem, since Zoro has always been a night owl, but Zoro was actually tired during the night, why? Because he couldn't nap like he usually does during the day. Now, the day hours are reserved for feeding, and rocking, and baths. A lot of baths( why do babies get dirty so fast??)

If you ask him if everything is alright, he'll just brush you off and tell you to focus on resting, if Sanji or Usopp tell him to stop acting like he's the baby and just ask for help it turns into an argument. Zoro didn't want help. He could do this. He could handle this. He was Roranora Zoro, the second strongest on this ship. The steady rock that you and his crew could depend on. The one that trained for hours on end in the crows nest to stay that way. He's a father now too though and as much as Zoro wanted to succeed and take care of this for you and for your son, this was something he'd never trained for.

Zoro was tired.

And he hates it.

He looks at you both sleeping peacefully one night and decides that enough is enough. He's in over his head, and unfortunately so are you. So he puts aside his pride and asks for help from everyone(who were waiting on standby) His image as the strong and capable first mate didn't matter if it meant that he could take better care of his kid. He goes to Robin first, who unbeknownst to him had been sneaking tips in whenever he was in earshot,and from there it extends to everyone else, even Sanji, even Luffy. The crew couldn't be happier to help him out.

Once he gets the hang of everything, Zoro's favorite thing to do with his son, this is probably expected, is to nap with him. Once Nami gets him on a sleep schedule and suggests taking naps during the day with the baby, it becomes their routine.

He sits in the crows nest with his son on his chest, calmly waiting for him to doze off. His big hand covers the entirety of his tiny baby's back, and the heat from his palm always makes your son's eyelids droop. He'll breath slowly and steady and pat his back softly after being taught how to. He always stays up just a little longer to watch his baby that's comfortable on his chest, his tiny body not taking up much space and his tiny fist clenched against his skin. All this and the sunlight from the window warming him, Zoro's never had better naps. He's definitely gonna miss this when your son gets older.

"Zoro do you have-! Oh!" You start to whisper when you see Zoro's frown and your eyes fall on your baby resting on his chest. He had disappeared after you were done breastfeeding him, so you knew that Zoro or one of your crew mates had him, so you came to the crows nest to ask Zoro first. You walk over before sitting on the floor by them, giving zoro a kiss on his temple before settling down. A comfortable silence falls over you two as you both gaze at the tiny person you made together.

"Do you want me to take him to the bed instead?" You tease while you play with the protective fingers heavy on your son's back. When zoro just rolls his eyes at you, aware that you were poking fun at how soft he is for this, while you laugh to yourself. You're about to get up when Zoro pulls you back down, carefully moving his child to make room for you on his chest too.

" Where are you going? Hm?" His voice is raspy from keeping quiet in fear of waking your sleeping infant. He whispers another quiet "stay here" and you give in, resting happily on the chest that your son has claimed upon his arrival.

***🧸***

🧸Sanji

Sanji quickly takes on everything that needs to be done while you recover. With some help from your other crew mates when it comes to the meals on the ship, Sanji is able to focus on taking care of the baby and taking care of you, and while it's definitely strenuous, he's happy to do it. With all of his reassurance that he's got it under control and that you should recuperate, knowing what a capable person he is, and actually needing to recuperate, you don't notice how it's not going as well as you think until a few weeks after your son's birth.

For the first couple of days Sanji was on cloud nine. Everything had gone well and he was a father now. He enjoyed watching you learn how to breastfeed, giving his tiny baby baths in his tiny tub, and dressing him in the abundance of outfits the crew( mostly made by Usopp or bought by Nami) gave you two, but the longer he held his little infant in his arms, the more something fearful started to twist in his stomach. Thoughts of how vulnerable and susceptible to danger he is. Thinking of how even if he was strong enough to protect him physically, things like illness and sicknesses were something he couldn't do anything about. He even starts to be plagued by memories of his own childhood, thinking how he would never want him to go through anything like what his father put him through.

The anxiety continued to build until eventually there was an accident, and one accident was all Sanji's tired new-parent brain needed.

It wasn't that big a deal actually, Sanji wasn't paying attention and accidentally ran your son's bath water a little warmer than he liked( not by much, even in his fatigued state he'd never hurt his child). Your baby wasn't hurt, just a little startled by the warm water so he cried, but that was all Sanji needed to finally break down. Since you heard your son crying and didn't hear it come to an end like usual, you went to check on them and found your son sitting safely, but loudly on a fluffy towel and Sanji holding his head in his hands by the tub.

You check on him, thinking maybe he had slipped but when you see the faintest shine of tears on his face and he whispers to you what happened, you pick up your son, take Sanji's hand and walk them both back to your room. You both have a long and heartfelt talk that night, about both your fears and communicating and confiding in each other about it all, no matter how little it is( ending in kisses and cuddles for your stressed out hubby).

After that things go a lot smoother

Franky and Usopp surprise you guys with a highchair and it's quite literally the best thing Sanji could wish for. Now your son can join you all at the dinner table with his own chair and plate( not that the plate matters cuz he only wants the food if it's from your guy's plate) but the best part is that he can watch his baby while he cooks. Sanji just sets him at a safe distance and gets to work. Sometimes he'll do a fancy trick just to see if he can get a few happy claps or babbles. It rarely works when he's younger cuz your child is usually occupied with the food his dad gave him, but even if his baby isn't too interested in his cooking right now, Sanji still loves the company.

" I was sure we were going to have a girl. I honestly never thought of you with a boy." You say one afternoon as you watch Sanji and your boy with a smile. Sanji pulls his eyes away from his son on his lap, who is currently fighting his dad's large hands for the spoon he was using with his little ones, and looks over at you.

" Huh? Where'd that come from?" He asks you, laughing a little, before gently pulling the spoon away from your baby to stir whatever he was prepping for dinner.

"Well, I thought you'd be super affectionate with a girl, y'know? People always talk about dad's that would do anything for their daughters, but you're so affectionate with our son anyway." Your voice softens as you gaze at your little family lovingly. You had actually been the tiniest but anxious when your son was born, wondering if Sanji might be hard on him or if he'd feel less love for him. Past you is proven wrong everyday though when you see just how much Sanji adores him. Sanji just chuckles a little, embarrassed.

"Well, sons need love from their fathers too." He says softly, before brightening up when his son suddenly looks up at him and gives him a piece of tangerine. You smile and nod.

"You're right. Besides, I shouldn't be surprised considering the way you baby Chopper." You tease and walk out of kitchen to get a towel for the mess the fruit juice would eventually lead to.

" I do not baby Chopper!" Sanji calls out after you.

A/n: First as always: Thank you so much for requesting, I appreciate it. Second: I am SO sorry this took so long to post, I really was thinking about you and working on it, glad I finally got it out here and I hope you like it! I hope everyone else likes it too since I'm feeling a little self conscious about this one. Thanks for reading!🧸🧸🧸

#one piece #one piece fic #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #one piece angst #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #god usopp #op usopp #usopp x reader #op luffy #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #op zoro #sanji vinsmoke #sanji x reader #op sanji #usoppsstars fatherhood series

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guardianofnightmares · 7 months ago

Text

Forbidden

At that moment Bumblebee finally realized that he couldn’t keep the paranoid thoughts locked inside his processor anymore.

He desperately needed to speak to his friends, consequences be damned. He had to make sure that he’s not glitched in a processor. That what he got himself into was a right course of action for any good-natured Bot.

... or, rather, for any sensible Prime.

Hence why, after making a deep inhale, a minibot finally forced the dreaded words out of his intake:

"... is it wrong that I feel... bad for the prisoners? That I... periodically... h-help them?"

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Hello everyone, long time no see). Can hardly believe it's been a whole year since the last @blitzbee-week event and man, was I glad to participate in it once more. All of works were submitted on time to an event chat, but, unfortunately, I am uploading them here only now (full-time job drains me up).

Anyways, here is my first drawing from BlitzBeeWeek event Promts List. I think it will be fair to mention that this and next couple of my works will be dedicated to my fanfic called "TFA: Icarus". I will leave a link [here] for anyone interested to give it (and an existing teaser) a try. And yes, I am, in fact, going to finally upload first chapters pretty soon, it's happening, guys))). Thanks a ton for everyone who left their kudos there throughout a year, you have given me courage to put this behemoth of a story on paper and actually work it through.

As for the current entry for an event, I will provide part of a draft to one of chapters which is related to a depicted scene. It'll be "hidden" under a cut line for anyone wishing to get a more... fleshed out picture of what's going on here. Hope you'll enjoy reading it)

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“Bumblebee… are you listening to me?”

It was beyond confusing for Ratchet to see a younger Bot acting so out of touch with reality. He’s hunched over a console, helm resting in one servo while a wielding tool was twirled slowly in digits of another. Bumblebee looked so tired, clearly not caring about a task at servo, nor about an advice coming from his elder friend.

White and red Autobot knew how cheerful Bumblebee got each time they met via video calls, clearly waiting for a chance to talk to old teammates, even if these calls didn’t last long. That’s why him being so silent and lost in own thoughts was that much more worrying to witness.

Upon being prompted again, the young bot finally raised his optics, the weight of his gaze almost making Ratchet flinch in surprise - to think that a recently promoted Prime was capable of behaving so out of character was indeed an alarming sign of change.

The truth was, the minibot couldn’t help but to act all secretive, as if he’s done something wrong.

Because, all things considered, he has.

Minibot was well aware of what his actions could lead up to. All those rendezvous and revelations were such a dangerous subject to talk about, something that surely could lead him to being court marshaled if he’s caught by anybot. And what’s even worse - Bumblebee wasn’t certain whether telling friends what’s been troubling him was a good idea.

Surely they’d not rat him out… but would they continue interacting with a yellow Autobot if he shared said secret with them? Wouldn't it be more mature of him to leave mechs oblivious (in order to protect them) and let his fears to silently fester in his processor?

... yet, to his shame, a minibot felt his resolve to keep his intake shut breaking upon seeing a haunted expression on Ratchet’s faceplates. Bumblebee wished he hadn’t looked up into the wise optics of his, those that seemed to read him as an unlocked datapad. How could he play it cool when a medic was looking at him in such a manner?

“…kid?” Now Ratchet was truly worried for his companion. He wasn’t even certain he’s ready to hear an explanation, but knew in his spark that he had to get to the bottom of a problem for minibot's sake.

At that moment Bumblebee finally realized that he couldn’t keep the paranoid thoughts locked inside his processor anymore.

… or, rather, for any sensible Prime.

Hence why, after making a deep inhale, a minibot finally forced the dreaded words out of his intake:

“… is it wrong that I feel… bad for the prisoners? That I… periodically… h-help them?”

… a fleeting moment or relief at voicing his concerns instantly evaporated, changed to regret once he saw Racthet’s optics widening beyond usual capacity and heard Optimus sputtering and coughing on his energon ration off the camera.

Such reaction made Bumblebee hide his helm between shoulder pauldrons in a clear sign of dread - so much for the support coming from teammates it seemed.

“What?” Optimus asked after standing up from a table he’s sitting next to, the stool screeching audibly after a mech span in it. “Help them? What do you mean by that, Bumblebee? Are you alright? Do they… force you to do something for them or..?”

Minibot didn’t answer any of those questions. Wasn’t able to do it under the searching gaze of an elder mech’s optics which seemed to pin him to his own stool. Bumblebee felt like energon was going to freeze in his lines and tubes from a rising horror. Time seemed to stop for him, not unlike inner mechanisms in a frame of his. He couldn't utter a single sound, words swimming in a jumbled mess that was his processor.

What could he possibly say in his defense, now that his teammates knew of his secret? That there was a proper reason for him to feel pity for the inmates? That he was the only one to keep those mechs alive because nobody else did? That perhaps, Primus help him, all this time they were held in prison, somebot tried to take them out of game by starving them to their deaths?

A yellow Bot clearly hasn’t thought the conversation through, just as he always did, hasn't prepared himself for such a reaction even, and now that mistake was biting his aft.

But then… then minibot heard something that immediately tore him from a panicking state he got stuck in.

“I’ll take care of it, Prime.” Ratchet announced in a calm tone, breaking the tense silence which settled over the video call. Bumblebee was so stunned that he didn’t register those words right away, looking dumbly at warm optics of a mech on the other side of a call line.

“But-��

“Optimus.” Medic cut off his commanding officer in a stern but good-natured manner, showing that he knew what he’s doing. Trusting the judgement of an older Bot, red and blue mech nodded to him and stepped away from a console, giving both of his friends some room to talk to each other.

Young Prime could hardly believe what he’s been witnessing in front of him. Afraid to hope that his situation might’ve not been so dire after all. Baiting his breath, he watched red and white Bot turning to him again and leaning closer to a screen.

“Bumblebee, tell me, what’s happening back on Cybertron.” Ratchet asked his young friend, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, ready to tentatively listen to everything minibot’s about to say.

And that’s when Bumblebee understood, felt it in his spark which gleefully thrummed in his chest that his old teammates were not mad at him - only worried for his well-being. Said realization made the built up over orbital cycles tension leave his frame and gave him courage to answer as honestly as he could.

“You don’t know even half of what's going on, guys,” He stated after a breath moment of silence, then scooted on his chair closer to a screen as well and continued speaking in a hushed tone as to not to be heard by anyone else on his side of a video call.

While retelling the recent events, which took place in Tripticon Prison, young Prime couldn’t help but periodically glance at a screen to his right side, a list of main convicts taking up most of its surface.

Their stern gazes seemed to burn a viewer with hostility. Evil, cold, sparkless optics on unsightly faceplates. That’s what fellow guards always tended to whisper to each other either in fear or in bold mockery while walking down the hallways.

But to Bumblebee the very same pairs of optics, those he'd looked into more times then any of the local mechs, more then his friends even, told another story. Each time he saw Decepticons, bound and stripped of their weapons, there was no rage in their expressions, nor malice or contempt - only an eternal tiredness, hopelessness... and resignation with Fate.

Warframes. Mighty mechs being brought to their knees and stripped of their pride. Truly a sight which made minibot feel more miserable then three inmates he tried to take care of.

“Bossbot… Ratchet… please, come back here as soon as you can," Recently promoted Prime finally said as a conclusion to his speech. "I… I am afraid I won’t be able to handle this situation on my own anymore.”

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ghoulinfuschia · 11 days ago

Text

There’s been something bugging me for a while that I’ve been trying to articulate. Other artists on Tumblr could probably help me— the idea of art being treated as “content”.

Right out the gate, that word sparks a feeling of resentment in me. When people call art “content” rather than what it actually is, it feels like it undermines the intention behind the work. Artists create their work to share ideas and express themselves. Boggling it down to just be content made purely for consumption feels…. for lack of better word, dystopian. Artists feel it too.

The idea of “producing” art is nothing new. I’ve heard many stories about artists feeling terrified of the algorithm’s wrath that they start pumping out artwork like there’s no tomorrow. Then, they get burnt out. The artwork they’re creating isn’t for them anymore, it’s for the machine. It’s….saddening.

It feels symptomatic of the capitalistic society we live in where everything is meant to be sold to a consumer. You aren’t meant to approach it mindfully, but instead treat it as another meal for your mind to wolf down before spitting out the bones. I think that’s what scares me. Art on the internet isn’t treated as art, it’s treated as just another form of stimuli for those glued to screens.

Now this isn’t the case with everyone, obviously. I have one friend specifically who I feel is a wonderful example of someone who appreciates artwork wholeheartedly. A commission client of mine. Always tips his artists generously, collects all art he sees and mourns the deletion of artwork. He admires artists’ work with all his heart no matter what it is because he can see the soul behind it. The intention in every line drawn, and the feeling the artist wanted to provoke. He’s gone on record numerous times to say he loves art.

Art, not content. He doesn’t care for the machine. He cares for the person’s intentions and skill. He loves art.

By the way, this doesn’t just go for visual art. It goes for writing, video essays, documentaries, short films, animation, anything created by a human hand. It’s art because it was created with intention.

I genuinely can’t stand seeing people call art “content”. I appreciate all the support I receive, but that’s the one thing that grinds my gears in a way which I can’t get over. No matter what it is. If it was made by a human hand to convey a thought, it’s art.

With my whole heart, mind, body, and soul, I pray on the extinction of the ideology behind content creation. Just call it what it actually is- art.

#honeybee rambles #Sort of a rant #I just had to put this somewhere #If you have thoughts on this please reblog I need to know I’m not going crazy

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revelboo · 2 months ago

Note

absolutely in love with your starscream series! i feel like you're one of the only people who write him like he's actually HIM, you actually give him his internal struggles and fears instead of just making him a big jerk "just because he can be" like everyone else does for some reason... can't wait to see what comes next in the story!!!

I’m trying my best to figure out their characters and motivations

Everything is Alright Pt 44

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Listening to the soft chatter of you and his cassettes as he works, Soundwave cycles through security feeds. For the most part, it’s a monotonous job aside from the occasional brawls between the ranks. But with both factions desperate for energon, neither side is willing to launch an attack just yet, locked in a stalemate while Autobots and Decepticons both hunt for viable mines. Standing when he catches a flicker of a thought, he bends to offer his hand. Watches Frenzy and Rumble exchange a look as you wrap your arms around yourself and come to him without hesitation. Trusting him. Those tumultuous thoughts ringing clearer through him when you climb into his hand so he can lift you to his desk. And nudge a box toward you. “Fuel, little one.” Reluctantly losing your warmth as you step onto the desk, servos flexing with the urge to reach for you.

• Glancing up at him, warmth spreading through you at that affectionate tone, it’s almost like he can read your mind some times. Just responding to things you want or need before you can even think to ask. Because the box appears to be full of food. Hungry, but knowing all too well from Starscream that human food is confusing at best for Cybertronians, you look inside. The box is full of bottles of sriracha, barbecue sauces, dry rice, cans of soup, and bags of jerky. Well, it’s something different from the junk food Starscream keeps giving you and the dwindling supply of dried and canned food he’d taken from your house. And he’d thought of you, went out just to find things you needed because he wanted to. Tearing into the jerky, you feel him run a servo down your spine and try not to think about that little fantasy or your very messed up, tangled feelings for both of them. “Unsatisfactory?” He inquiries, nudging the box again with a servo as you chew.

• It would be easier if he could pick up more than emotions and brief flurries of images from you, but your organic thoughts are just too quick, too chaotic to untangle. You glance up at him as his servos linger on your spine to strengthen that connection between you. Picking up on your amusement at his question, a lick of heat that warms him as your mind circles back to that fantasy and you tear your gaze away suddenly, but not before that need can sink into him, into his spark with a delicious tension. “The soup and rice needs to be cooked,” you say finally, leaning back into his touch, distracting him from the images he’d accidentally taken from Starscream. Those fantasies of his tangling with the way you crave his touch and needing more. Spinning him tight with a hunger so ferocious it’s almost unnerving.

• The feel of those warm servos moving lazily against your back slowly drains every worry away. Like Star, you feel safe with him. Unlike Starscream, you have no idea what Soundwave really wants from you. What you want? Laughably unattainable. “Cooked,” he echoes with a soft rumbling noise, a servo sliding up the side of your neck in a gentle slide. Where Starscream is lonely even if he’ll never admit it, Soundwave has his cassettes. And maybe it’s as simple as that. You’re not that much smaller than they are, so maybe you’re just another cassette for him to care for. You have no idea, but you like his quiet presence. Leaning into his touch, you look up when the door opens, feeling Soundwave stiffen before making what sounds suspiciously like a soft growl as Starscream lets himself into Soundwave’s quarters.

• Wings stiffly up and trembling with barely leashed anger, Starscream zeroes in on you sitting on Soundwave’s desk, the communication officer’s servos stroking down your spine as he turns to glare. Soundwave’s touch is possessive, servos lingering on you, fueling his own aggression. He’s aware of the cassettes on edge at him invading their space, too. Of Soundwave’s stiff posture. And that makes him bare his denta in a smirk, because Soundwave clearly doesn’t like it when it happens to him. You at least smile for him, twisting to look at him as Soundwave curls his servos around you in a silent claim. The other mech watching as Starscream moves to deliberately sit on Soundwave’s berth, his wings flaring out in challenge. He might not be able to take you back without risking Soundwave going to Megatron, but he can at least protect you. Look after you and ensure you aren’t harmed. Though, truth be told, he doubts Soundwave would hurt you. He’s just a bit too interested in you, something that twists about Starscream’s spark, because you’re his. And antagonizing the other mech? Just a bonus.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw soundwave #idw starscream #soundwave x reader

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whiteferraristurns · 2 months ago

Text

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ⚠︎︎ none. no use y/n. fluff

𝐁𝐑𝐈ꨄ rapper chris!!👅

reblogs, likes and comments are heavily appreciated ᥫ᭡

Late Night in the Studio

The hum of the city faded into the background as you entered the studio, a small black bag clutched in your hand. The dim, moody lights cast a soft glow over the walls lined with platinum records, awards, and Chris's signature graffiti art—raw, messy, undeniably his. The faint scent of sandalwood and vanilla drifted from the candles flickering on the windowsill, the only soft contrast to the electric energy in the room. The space felt familiar, yet every time you entered, the charged energy made you feel like you were stepping into another world.

It was late—later than you would have preferred to be out on a Thursday night—but Chris had insisted, and you couldn’t deny the pull his voice held over you. You were used to the chaos that came with his life, the late-night calls and the constant tug-of-war between your schedules. But something about tonight felt different.

You leaned against the doorway watching how the pink lights lit up his features perfectly. “You look like you’re thinking hard over there,” Chris turned, adjusting his headphones before pulling them down to hang around his neck. He shot you that lazy grin that always made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

“Just wondering why you’ve got me out here at midnight,” you teased, your lips pulling up into a smile. “Don’t you ever sleep?” Chris shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets with that lazy, too-cool look he always wore. “Can’t sleep when I’ve got inspiration running through me. You should know that by now.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a seat on the leather couch that stretched against the wall. It was worn and cracked, but you’d spent enough time here that it almost felt like home. “So I’m here to be your muse?” You arched an eyebrow, teasing, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the warmth his words brought.

Chris didn’t answer right away. Instead, his fingers ran over the soundboard, tweaking a few settings as he let the beat play softly in the background. He shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyes dark and serious. “Actually, yeah. This one’s got your name all over it.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning. Your heart skipped, but you tried to play it cool, tilting your head with a small smile. “You really expect me to believe you wrote a whole song about me?”

He nodded, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s wouldn't be the first one”

Your mouth went dry. You knew he poured his life into his music, but the idea that he’d written about you was something else. You glanced away, biting your lip to hide the mix of emotions swirling inside you. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Don’t say anything,” he murmured, leaning against the soundboard as he met your gaze. “Just… listen.” Chris hit play, and the room filled with a steady, soulful beat, layered with smooth guitar riffs that softened the intensity of the bassline. Then his voice cut through, raw and honest, each line hitting like a confession.

“She’s the pulse that keeps me steady, when the world’s too loud to bear. She’s the reason why I’m breathing, even when there’s smoke in the air.”

The lyrics rolled over you, each word hitting deeper than you’d expected. You breath caught as you heard the pain, the longing, the way he seemed to reach for you through every line. It wasn’t just a song. It was a part of him—a part of your bond. You listened, your hand messing the necklace he had gotten you for your birthday. As his voice continued, weaving a story of nights you’d spent together, of whispered words in dim rooms, of a connection that neither of you knew how to define.

“She’s the storm that keeps me grounded, the spark behind every verse,” he rapped, his voice deep and resonant, each word laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “When I’m lost in this world, she pulls me down to earth.”

The track finally faded into silence, you blinked, realizing your eyes were damp. You hadn’t even noticed the tears pooling, too wrapped up in the emotion of it all.

“Chris…” you started, but words failed you. How could you tell him that you felt it too, that every time he left for another city or hit the stage, you were there with him, a part of your heart stitched into every lyric?

He crossed the room, sitting beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours. The air between you both was thick with things unsaid, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“It’s not easy, you know?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “Balancing all this. Sometimes, I don’t know how much longer I can keep pulling you into this world.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You’d always known that dating Chris meant sacrifice, meant that your time was often borrowed and fleeting. But the thought of letting him go was harder than you wanted to admit.

“You’re not pulling me anywhere, Chris,” you whispered back, your hand reaching out to brush his. “I’m here because I want to be.”

For a moment, he looked away, his jaw tight. You knew that look—he wore it when he was fighting back something deeper, something vulnerable. You reached out, your hand resting on his, grounding him. Slowly, he turned back to you, his fingers threading through yours.

“What if it’s too much?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse. “What if… I’m too much?”

You shook her head, squeezing his hand. “You could never be too much, Chris. You’re just… everything.”

Your words hung in the air, soft and steady, the truth of them lingering between you. And in that moment, you felt like you were finally laying your cards on the table, every piece of your heart exposed. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you two, your lips brushing his in a gentle, tender kiss that held everything you couldn’t put into words.

When you pulled away, he held you close, his forehead resting against yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you stayed like that, just breathing, just existing in the same space.

“I don’t know where this is going,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “but I want to figure it out with you.”

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle in her heart. “We’ll figure it out, one verse at a time.”

And as you sat together in the dim studio, surrounded by his music, you knew that whatever happened, you’d face it together—through the highs, the lows, and everything in between. Because no matter what, you had each other, and that was enough.

𝐁𝐑𝐈ꨄ short n’ sweet. please tell how this was I lowk hate it😭

more fic’s will be out soon I just thought I’d post this one now since it’s been sitting in my drafts since the day after the video

TAGS ʚ♡ɞ

@sturniqloo @iillovechris @themotherofmattschildren @chrislilcumslvt @ghostlyplug @mattsfavginger @chrissturnioloenthusiastforlife @ncm9696 @starfuckoff @heartz4matt

#movieshots🎬#✩rapper!chris彡 #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #Chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fandom #sturniolo triplets fluff #sturniolo oneshots

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meazalykov · 2 months ago

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the stylist

aitana bonmati x actress!reader

summary: you're used to this, she isn't. she asks for you help in one of the biggest moments of her life.

it’s 2020, and you’re in barcelona for a collaboration between the football club and the spanish film industry—a whirlwind of press, promotion, and bridging two seemingly different worlds.

you're used to the attention, the cameras, the lights, but something about stepping into the club’s facilities feels different, exciting.

the air is filled with energy as you watch barcelona’s women’s team train, the players effortlessly weaving around each other, laughter mixing with shouts of encouragement and reassurance.

that's when you see her—aitana bonmatí. she’s different from everyone else on the pitch, even from the other players who are all exceptional in their own right.

there’s something about the way she moves, a certain fluidity and elegance, every step calculated but not forced. her focus is razor-sharp, but when she laughs, it’s like watching the sun break through clouds.

you’re captivated, and you don’t even realize you're staring until your assistant nudges you, bringing you back to the present moment.

the actual collaboration project is a chaotic blur of scripts, media appearances, and photo ops with the team. and then, you get the chance to talk to her. aitana is quieter than you imagined—thoughtful, a little reserved, but there's a spark in her eyes that you can't ignore.

she teases you for not knowing much about football, and you tease back, pretending you don’t know who she is when, in reality, you’d already spent hours watching clips of her play.

one conversation turns into two, then three. before you know it, you’re staying longer at the training grounds, just to catch a glimpse of her or to share a quick chat over coffee.

it doesn’t take long for something to blossom between you. it’s like everything clicks into place, like you were always meant to find her in this way.

by early 2021, you’re together, stealing moments between your busy lives—you, jetting off to film sets and premieres; her, dedicating every ounce of herself to the sport she loves. despite the chaos, every time you’re together, it’s just... easy. simple.

you learn quickly that loving aitana means living in the moment. she teaches you to embrace the small things, to find joy in an early morning run along the beach, or in a lazy afternoon spent watching the waves lap against the sand.

and you, in return, show her the magic of your world—the glitz, the glamor, and the art of bringing stories to life on screen. in the end, it's not about your worlds; it’s just about the two of you, finding pieces of yourselves in one another.

by 2023, things get even crazier.

it’s the year of the women’s world cup, and aitana is on fire. as part of the spanish national team, she trains harder than ever, and you watch from the sidelines, cheering her on in stadiums from new zealand to australia, wearing her number and beaming with pride.

every pass, every goal feels like a triumph, and when they finally win, you’re there in the stands, screaming and crying as they lift that trophy into the air. it’s a moment you’ll never forget: aitana, surrounded by her teammates, glowing with pride, holding the world cup above her head like a queen with her crown.

you rush down after the match, and when she finds you in the sea of friends and family, she pulls you close, her sweat and tears mingling with yours as she kisses you deeply.

“we did it,” she chants in catalan, and you know she means all of it—not just the world cup, but everything leading up to that moment.

it’s a whirlwind from there. aitana’s name is on everyone's lips. every headline praises her for being one of the best midfielders in the world, and talk of the ballon d’or starts almost immediately.

the idea of winning such a prestigious award is exhilarating—and terrifying—for aitana.

she’s humble to a fault, always quick to deflect praise, always wanting the spotlight to be on the team rather than herself. and while the world hypes her up, aitana becomes more nervous as the ceremony approaches.

one night, she confesses to you that she feels overwhelmed by it all.

“what if i don’t deserve this?” she asks, and you just shake your head, holding her close as she wraps her arms around you tightly.

“are you serious? of course you deserve this. you deserve everything, aitana,” you tell her, and you mean it more than anything.

then there’s the matter of the ceremony itself. it’s in paris, and it will be one of the most glamorous nights of the year.

aitana hires a stylist, wanting to make sure she looks her best, but every fitting seems to leave her feeling more out of place. the dresses are either too flashy, too revealing, or just... not her.

you’re on set, filming for a movie during most of this, but every time she calls you, you can hear the frustration in her voice. she’s worried about standing out for the wrong reasons, about wearing something that doesn’t feel true to who she is.

when you finally wrap up filming, you decide to head back to barcelona early, just to be with her. you find her one evening, sitting on the floor of your shared apartment, surrounded by garment bags and fabric swatches, looking utterly defeated.

“i just want to feel comfortable,” she admits, the vulnerability in her voice breaking your heart.

you smile, tilting her chin up so she looks at you.

“you know you’re dating a professional, right?” you tease, and she laughs, but there's relief in her eyes.

“i've done this a hundred times. let me help you.”

together, you dive into the chaos of dresses, sketches, and fabric samples. you know aitana better than anyone, and you know exactly what would make her feel beautiful and confident.

you pull out a stunning black dress, elegant and understated, with just the right amount of sparkle—a shimmer that catches the light without being overpowering.

“try this,” you say, holding it up to her.

when she slips into it, it’s like everything clicks into place. the dress hugs her perfectly, shimmering around her frame like a sky full of stars, the black fabric cascading down like liquid silk. the muscles she has fit into the dress stunningly.

you watch as aitana turns in front of the mirror, a smile spreading across her face, the confidence you knew was there all along finally showing.

“you look breathtaking,” you say, coming up behind her and resting your hands on her waist. in the mirror, you see her bite her lip, trying to hold back tears as she turns to face you.

“thank you,” she whispers, and you know she’s thanking you for more than just the dress. for supporting her, for believing in her, for always being her anchor through everything.

“i’m so proud of you, aitana,” you tell her, pulling her into a hug, feeling her warmth, her strength.

masterlist

#aitana bonmati #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona

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juniperskye · 9 months ago

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Who Are You Again?

Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5336

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, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.

Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.

*36 hours earlier*

“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.

“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.

“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.

“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.

The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.

As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.

You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.

The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy. Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.

*Present Day*

“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.

“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.

“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.

*One year earlier*

“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.

“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”

You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.

“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.

“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.

“I love you.” Aaron said simply.

“What?” You were stunned.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.

After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.

Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).

*Present Day*

A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.

Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.

In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.

*2 Weeks Later*

Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.

“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.

You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.

Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.

The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.

“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.

You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?

“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.

“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.

Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.

“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.

“Oh, okay.”

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.

*Hotch’s POV*

She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.

“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”

“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.

“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.

“Will her memory return?”

“It’s hard to say.”

While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.

*Normal POV*

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.

Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.

“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.

“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.

“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”

“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.

“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.

“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”

“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.

“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.

“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”

“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.

“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.

Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.

*Five Days Later*

“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.

He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.

“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”

“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.

The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.

When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.

“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.

“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.

“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.

“That’s great, thank you.”

The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.

Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves.

He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.

When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.

You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.

“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.

Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.

“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.

“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.

“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”

Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.

These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.

Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.

You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.

*One Week Later*

Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.

It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.

“Hi Penelope!”

“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.

“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.” You let out a low chuckle.

“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.

The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team.

“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope

“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”

You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.

“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”

“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.

Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.

You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.

“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.

Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.

“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”

“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”

“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.

“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”

“If you think that’s best.”

You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.

*Two Days Later*

“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.

“Okay, what time should I come down there?”

“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”

“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.

“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.

You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.

A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.

“Hi Aaron.”

“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.

Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.

“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.

Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.

You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”

“Thanks.�� You smiled.

You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.

“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey Pen!”

“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”

You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.

“This should only take a few minutes.”

Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.

Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.

After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.

When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.

You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.

You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…

“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”

Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.

You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.

“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.

“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.

“That we were together.”

You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.

“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”

“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.

Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.

“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”

You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.

“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.

You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..

It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.

“I remember.”

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starryknight-tarot · 10 months ago

Text

𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼?

pile 1 -- > pile 2 pile 3 -- > pile 4

my masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hello beautiful souls✨ Today we will be looking into what kind of people your future friends are and maybe a little more into your dynamic together. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath, and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. My readings are meant for everyone, no matter what sexuality or identity you are. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Credit to @benkeibear for the divider and @thuminnoo on instagram.

Pile 1 Cards: Temperance, Three of Swords, Six of Swords, Strength, Three of Pentacles, Nine of Wands, Page of Pentacles, Ace of Cups rx Back of the Deck: Five of Pentacles

The energy for this pile has a lot of layers to it. While I was shuffling, I heard the word "first" pretty clearly, so your future friends might be the first time you can really call someone a friend or simply your first time having friends at all . I feel like all of your future friends are going to have very big personalities. If you are an introvert, you are going to feel like you were adopted by a bunch of extroverts. I am actually getting Mean Girls vibes from this pile, like in a school setting, all your friends would be the talk of the school. The cool kids so to speak lol. And the energy you are going to feel with them also feels pretty complicated. In friendships, you can have good days where everyone is getting along and having fun, and then other day when things can feel more awkward and even a little uncomfortable, your friend group isn't going to be safe from this. Although, you may feel like you may feel like you don't truly fit in with them. I am hearing "Imposter Syndrome" so with your future friends, you may feel like you don't deserve to be around them. But I am getting that your future friends REALLY don't want you to feel this way. In fact, I feel like there may be a moment in your friendship where all this doubt in yourself comes to the surface and you and your friends have a deep conversation about. I am getting for some of you that really don't resonate with this self doubt energy, it might be the other way around where one of your future friends isn't too confident in their friendship with you. Also, no matter what gender you identify as, your future friends are going to help you embrace your feminine energy. For some specific groups of yall, your friends are going to spark your interest in makeup. Some of yall are going to be making new friends at the gym or on a run, something physical. Like I am seeing the visual of someone running a marathon and chatting it up with the person next to them. I think for my pile 1's, yall need to start having a clear idea of what you want and need in a friend. Because if you just let anyone that shows you kindness, you might end up in a distasteful situation. If you don't feel like you and another person have a connection, it's time to cut ties with that person. But with the Page of Pentacles, I feel like you guys will actually find friends that will feel like manifested them into existence. If you have a manifestation journal, it may help to dedicate a page for qualities you want in a friend and spirit is saying that this will bring you closer to these friends. I also keep hearing "They aren't perfect" so even if you are manifesting them, they may not be the perfect person but they are going to be there for you. Also one last message for my introverts, you may want to try and put yourself out there to find friends.

Advice Cards:

Release what you do not need. Let go of some extraneous aspects of your life

Spend some time in stillness to reflect

Be adventurous. It's time to go for it!

A powerful dream will guide you

Your heart is a center of institute intelligence. Listen to it!

You are greater than your story

Channeled Songs: (I laughed when I got Please Me but some of yall may have a message there lol)

Pile 2 Cards: Ace of Swords, Nine of Wands rx, King of Swords, The Tower rx, Ten of Wands rx, The Fool, The Emperor, Two of Pentacles Back of the Deck: Three of Swords

So I was picking up a few different types of energies for this pile, I feel like a lot of people may pick this pile so there is a lot of different people involved or each one of your friends is going to be very different personalities, take it how it resonates. One of the first things I was picking up was that your friends are gonna be labeled as the "weird kids" lol. I don't mean that in a bad way at all, they just might be the type to be labeled as nerds or dorks or whatever but they are just have really silly energy. Specifically, someone in your group is gonna be quite eccentric and unique but I think you will love that about them. This eccentric friend has lovely energy. I keep hearing ENFP or they may might just be really into MBTI. I am also picking up on someone that has a really regal vibe to them? Maybe, they feel like they were royalty in their past life or they could come from wealth. But I am getting such a sweet vibe from this person. This friend group seems like a bunch of softies and I am living for it. I was also picking up that you might have to go through some really shitty friends before you get to the friends that we are currently looking into. Spirit said "those people were never truly your friends" so some people who you thought were your friends may actually be pieces of shit and never even truly saw you as a friend. I am hearing for someone of you that these might be your current friends, of course that isn't going to be for everyone but you are seeing some signs from your current friends that they don't truly respect you as a person, or that they are leave you out of stuff, those people aren't your friends. But with the Fool, I feel like you guys are really going to start a new journey in terms of friends so there are going to be quite a few people who are coming into your life. I heard "They are going to turn your life upside down" so you may start seeing the world differently after meeting them. I do feel like you and your future friends may not always see eye to eye and may have a falling out, I'm not too sure why, it seems like a lot of misunderstandings may happen between yall. These misunderstand may cause yall to have prolonged times apart for a little while. But I do think you will come back together. I'm also not too sure this energy is for everyone or perhaps that keeping this message in mind may cause these misunderstands to be avoided. Spirit is saying "Keep an open mind" so you may need to just hear each other. I am also getting for this pile that your group of friends may be really big, like a lot of people that are gonna hang around you.

Advice Cards:

Hold your life from a sacred viewpoint. Witness the universal picture

Relax and feel good. You deserve more joy!

Your are greater than your story

Pay attention to your breathing, it's reflecting your life

Reflect on the state and use of your personal energy

You are wiser than you think

You are a natural teacher

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3 Cards: Three of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, The Emperor rx, Six of Pentacles rx, Ten of Pentacles, The Fool rx, Ten of Swords Back of the Deck: Four of Cups

Excuse me for my language, but I fucking love this pile so much, your future friends have top tier energy. These friends might be people from your childhood that you rekindle with or just friends you have known for a while. Actually I am also getting that for some of you, you may meet them very suddenly and become friends very fast in your adult life, but I'm not really getting an in between. For some of you, I feel like you are already around your future friends. They seem to be more of the rebellious vibes, I am hearing Lost Boys energy. Your future friends may be strong activists and are very vocal about what is right and wrong. Your friends seems like the type of people that really stand out in the crowd. Probably for a very specific group of you, I feel like you may meet in an art class or just somewhere surrounded by art. And your future friends are SO creative and have such big imaginations. For some of you, you are going to make a career with these future friends and I am hearing starting a Youtube channel or something like that. Whatever it is, it seems like it will be really successful because of the chemistry you and your friends share. Especially with all the pentacles in this pile, yall might make major bank together. For a lot of you, these friends are going to be your soul family. For some of you, there is going to be someone in your friend group that takes up a sort of mother role and they are going to help heal you through a lot of childhood wounds that you may not have even realized you had. I heard for some of you, they are going to get you out more and get you out of a hermit period for you. There is a very small group of you that I feel like you will very suddenly stop seeing each other or perhaps this friendship will have been going on for years and some of you will want to expand your friendship to other people and not talk as much, I am getting maybe two people. A little larger group of you may just drift part after time and find new friends, but you guys would never forget each other and always hold so much love for each other. Yall story seems like it could be made into a story lol. But even then, I won't let that stop you from enjoying your friends with these people and trying your best to make it last since yall do seem really compatible. For real it's so beautiful I almost want to cry. But there is a group of you that I see growing old together basically. Yall will still be causing trouble till yall's hairs grey and you are chilling in the nursing homes lol.

Advice Cards: Release what you do not need. Let go of some extraneous aspect of your life

Reflect on the state and use of your personal energy

Be aware of your inner messages

A powerful dream will guide you

The key is in the application. Practice!

Spend some time in stillness to reflect

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4 Cards: King of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, Four of Pentacles rx, Five of Swords, Six of Pentacles rx, Nine of Swords, The Tower, The Fool rx Back of the Deck: Six of Wands

This pile is very interesting indeed. So one of the first things I was picking up was that you may marry one of your future friends and it is going to be like "Marrying my best friend" kind of moments. Which is real cute for yall. I was also getting that your friend group might be pretty well off, like they all grew up in a pretty wealthy area or something like that. I am kind of picking up on those people that grew up rich but don't really even realize it until you point it out. But they seem like might spoil you a little, take you around to see things you may have never seen without them. I am also hearing some of you may be the rich friend. I am also getting that the way you guys will meet will be through shared struggle. Like I am getting that you and your future friends will go though an experience that not many will have gone through and while you will walk away with a lot of trouble from this experience, you will also walk away with new friendships because not many have gone through what yall have gone through. I am getting that you will have around three or four friends that you are particularly close with. With the mixture of the Tower and the Five of Swords, I feel like you are going to have a big falling out with these people. Although since we have the Six of Wands at the back of the deck, I feel this story will have a very satisfying ending. I just suddenly saw people meeting at a very tropical setting. It could just be the beach but for some of you, this feels like a different country and you will meet up there and it will feel so nice. I am also getting that instead of this falling out energy, your future friends are going to have A LOT of trauma and they may feel like they don't deserve your friendship, something along those lines. Your future friends have very shy energy. They don't seem to trust a lot of people but you managed to gain their trust. Although I feel like one of your friends is very shy and the another is very bold and confident, but even this person seems to have some inner struggles as well. I'm sorry because I feel like there is part of a puzzle that your future friends don't really want to share here. Perhaps your story with them is just something they really want you to experience without any expectations. They seem to have really good intentions with you.

Advice Cards:

Release all attachments that do not serve you

Take a lighter approach and smile about all facets in your life. A smile reflects a heart at peace You are ready to receive your fortune. Be miracle minded!

The key is in the application. Practice! You are intuitively gifted. Trust you guidance

Pay attention to the issue that time plays in your life right now

Channeled Songs:

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

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siriuslysmoking · 2 months ago

Text

First Time

Fictober Masterlist

Day 8 of Fictober: Eddie and a Scary Movie

Eddie Munson lounged on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, grinning at you with that playful spark in his eyes. The room was dimly lit, and the flickering glow of the TV screen set a spooky mood as the opening credits of a classic horror movie rolled.

“Ready for this?” he asked, leaning back with a cocky grin. “It’s gonna be a wild ride.”

You swallowed hard, glancing at the screen. “Um, I’ve never actually watched a scary movie before,” you admitted, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

Eddie’s eyes widened comically. “What? You’re in for a treat, then! Just remember, it’s all fake. Nothing to be scared of… right?”

“Easy for you to say,” you replied, trying to sound brave but failing as the first jump scare hit. You let out a small yelp, clenching your fists in your lap.

He laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Welcome to the horror club! The initiation can be a little intense.”

As the plot unfolded, you found yourself leaning closer to Eddie, half for comfort and half because you were genuinely captivated by the story. You jumped again at another scare, and Eddie turned to you with a teasing grin.

“See? Told you it would get your heart racing,” he said, leaning in just a bit closer.

“I didn’t know I’d actually jump like that!” you exclaimed, half-laughing and half-embarrassed.

“Don’t worry. It happens to the best of us,” he assured you, his tone light. “Just breathe.”

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the adrenaline. “Okay, okay. I can handle this.”

As the movie progressed, you became more invested, your nerves easing as you and Eddie exchanged playful comments about the characters’ decisions.

“Who goes into the basement alone?” you scoffed, shaking your head.

Eddie chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Classic horror move! Always a bad idea. But hey, it makes for great entertainment.”

At one particularly tense moment, you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, squeezing slightly. He looked over, feigning surprise. “Whoa, getting a little cozy there, huh?”

You flushed, letting go quickly. “I’m just… reacting!”

“Right, right. Totally normal reaction,” he teased, a wide grin on his face.

As the movie reached its climax, the suspense was nearly unbearable. You were practically on the edge of your seat, heart racing with both fear and excitement. When a jump scare finally hit, you squeaked and threw your hands over your eyes.

“Okay, I’m done!” you laughed, half hiding your face in his shoulder.

Eddie chuckled, wrapping an arm around you playfully. “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to be scared?”

“Not like this!” you protested, giggling despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

Once the credits rolled, you exhaled a long breath. “I survived!”

“Barely,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You were clutching my shirt like it was a lifeline.”

“Maybe I was,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant but unable to hide your smile.

“Want to watch another one? Or are you too scared?” he challenged, leaning back with a mock serious expression.

You shot him a playful glare. “I’m definitely not too scared. Bring it on!”

Eddie laughed, clearly delighted by your newfound bravery. “Alright! But remember, I’m here to protect you from the scary stuff.”

You grinned, feeling the warmth of his presence. “Good to know. Just don’t let go of my hand when the scares come!”

As he queued up another movie, you settled in, excited for the next thrill and the fun of sharing it with Eddie. It was more than just the fear; it was the laughter, the connection, and the thrill of experiencing something new together that made it all unforgettable.

Taglist: @champomiel@nockstormbringer @strawbeffys @ellapurnellmybeloved@mysticliars-blog1

#Laurel's Fictober 2024 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things

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gilbertscurls · 2 months ago

Note

hey could u do a story on how chris would skip classes to make out with girls for the whole period? thank uuu

hope you like it!! <3

Live a Little ➵ Chris Sturniolo

part 2!

The last bell of the day rang, and students poured out of classrooms, eager to escape into the late afternoon sunshine. Senior year felt different—there was a sense of finality to everything. Everyone was making plans, talking about college applications, and preparing for the next chapter of their lives. For you, though, high school had become a blur of routines and responsibilities, an endless stream of homework and stress about the future.

But for Chris Sturniolo, things seemed... easier. While you were juggling AP classes, extracurriculars, and planning for college, Chris was barely showing up to half of his classes. The rumor mill was always buzzing about what he was up to, and more often than not, the stories involved him skipping class to hang out with girls, spending entire periods in secluded spots around the school making out. He had a reputation, but somehow, he never seemed to care.

You had known Chris for a while, not well, but enough to know he wasn’t all that concerned about his grades or what people thought of him. He was always laid-back, joking around, and never seemed to take anything too seriously. It was both infuriating and fascinating at the same time.

Today, you found yourself lingering by the lockers, shoving your books into your backpack, when a voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hey.”

You looked up to find Chris standing a few feet away, leaning casually against a locker, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of trouble. It wasn’t unusual to see him around, but the way he was looking at you now—directly, with a hint of something more—made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though your pulse quickened.

“Heading to your next class?” he asked, though you knew it was just for show. You could tell by the glint in his eye that he had something else in mind.

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah… unlike some people, I actually go to my classes.”

Chris chuckled, pushing himself off the locker and stepping closer, his presence commanding and easy. “Come on,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you don’t really need to go to every single class, do you? It’s senior year. Live a little.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small part of you was intrigued. “Are you seriously trying to convince me to skip?”

“I’m not just convincing you to skip,” Chris said, taking another step closer until he was right in front of you, his gaze locking onto yours, “I’m convincing you to spend that time with me.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. There it was—the infamous Chris Sturniolo charm that so many girls seemed to fall for. But you were different. You weren’t like them, right? You had a plan, goals. You weren’t about to throw that away for a guy.

Still… something about the way Chris was looking at you made it hard to say no.

“And what exactly would we do?” you asked, crossing your arms, trying to maintain some semblance of control in this situation.

Chris grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips for just a second before meeting your gaze again. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks, and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to the closeness between you. Against your better judgment, the thought of skipping class—just this once—didn’t seem so bad. After all, it was senior year. What was the harm in having a little fun?

Before you could overthink it, Chris reached out and gently tugged on the strap of your backpack. “Come on,” he urged, his voice soft and coaxing, “let’s go.”

You hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding, allowing him to lead you down the nearly empty hallway. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed him, half-excited, half-nervous. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t skip class, didn’t just ditch your responsibilities for a guy—but this was Chris Sturniolo. And there was something exhilarating about stepping out of your comfort zone with him.

Chris led you to a part of the school you didn’t frequent—the old wing, where barely any students hung out. The classrooms were mostly used for storage now, and the halls were eerily quiet. He opened the door to one of the abandoned rooms, glancing back at you with a playful smirk as he held it open for you.

You stepped inside, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. The room was dimly lit, with dusty desks scattered around and old textbooks piled in the corners. Chris closed the door behind you, the sound of it clicking shut echoing in the empty room.

Before you could say anything, Chris was in front of you again, his hands gently gripping your waist, pulling you closer. His eyes bore into yours, the intensity making your pulse quicken. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath soft against your skin as he leaned in.

“You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” Chris whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Your breath hitched. You wanted to deny it, wanted to say that you hadn’t given Chris Sturniolo a second thought, but that would be a lie. There was something about him—something about his carefree, rebellious nature that intrigued you, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered back, though the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

Chris chuckled softly, his hands sliding up your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. “Liar,” he teased, his voice low and sultry.

And then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, testing, but it quickly deepened. His hands gripped your waist tighter as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. It felt so wrong, but so good at the same time.

Chris backed you up against one of the desks, his lips never leaving yours as he lifted you onto the edge. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but he silenced you with another kiss, his hands now roaming your body, sending sparks of electricity through you.

It wasn’t like the stories you’d heard about Chris—about how he’d make out with girls and then move on, never caring about what happened afterward. This felt different. There was a hunger behind his touch, yes, but there was also a tenderness. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t treating you like just another girl. He was taking his time, savoring every second.

You broke away for a moment, your breathing heavy as you looked into his eyes. “Chris…” you started, but he cut you off with another kiss, his hands cupping your face.

“Just this once,” he whispered against your lips, his voice full of heat and desperation. “Let me have this moment with you.”

And against your better judgment, you did.

The minutes passed in a blur of kisses and soft touches, your heart racing with every moment. You couldn’t believe you were here, in this empty classroom, making out with Chris Sturniolo of all people. But it felt right, somehow. Like this was where you were meant to be, even if it didn’t make sense.

Eventually, you pulled away, both of you breathing heavily. Chris rested his forehead against yours, his hands still on your waist, holding you close. For a moment, everything was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of your breathing.

“We’re gonna get caught,” you whispered, though the thought didn’t seem to bother you as much as it should have.

Chris smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Probably,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But it was worth it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” Chris shot back, his smirk widening.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did love it—loved the way he made you feel, like you could break the rules just for a little while and the world wouldn’t fall apart.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Chris pulled you in for one last kiss, slow and sweet. “We should probably get out of here,” he said, his voice softer now.

You nodded, slipping off the desk and smoothing out your clothes, trying to compose yourself before heading back into the hallway. Chris grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as you walked out together, not caring if anyone saw.

For the first time in a long time, you felt alive. And maybe, just maybe, skipping class for Chris Sturniolo wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274

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gurggggleburgle · 2 months ago

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A fic idea from my brain from joy sparked from @meltedmush

really fucked up in a fun way if the whole nature of the Skinhe's was a that because the system really only cares about the protagonist and good story that actually the natural state of this world is a Binghe Kronenburg nightmare. The natural state of everything is Bingflesh. The horses, grass, buildings, other humans, soup, the water anything of real substance is Luo Binghe.

It's just you don't ever see this because the system has a filter in place that hides that part of the Lynch nightmare. But the system has started to glitch and now patches of reality are coming apart and melt in a flesh nightmare where everything is just turning into Binghe creatures including actual Luo Binghe who's a bunch of little skinhes stacked on top of each other. The only person immune to the spreading Luo Binghe virus seems to be Shen Qingqiu but even then he's got to hurry up and fix whatever the hell is going on around here before all the flesh melts into one and he just becomes another Bingcreature.

The idea of Shen Qingqiu fighting through a mass of writhing bingflesh and sinew trying to dig to the real Binghe at the heart of the tumorous screaming mass of every thought Luo Binghe has ever had coupled with a whaling narration of PIDW as his skin is bursting with little tumorous binghe faces. Saving the day by diving into the body horror and telling Luo Binghe he can say anything to him. That he doesn't need to hold shit in. This is like another case where men would rather turn into a flesh nightmare then go to therapy and Shen Qingqiu just ain't having it yall

#svsss #svsss shitpost #skinhe #skinzun #scum villain self saving system #its that messed up body horror shit for me doc #i like to believe that bingqiu consistently ends up in this kind of nonsense simply because both LBH and SQQ dont communicate 90% of the ti

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rebelliousmuse · 6 months ago

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Is it true? - M.S.

Warning: oral (male receiving).

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Papers with crossed-out video ideas littered the table. You leaned back on the couch. "Guys, it's Sunday. Relax, you have all week to brainstorm."

Nick ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. "But tomorrow's Monday! We need a banger for Friday." Matt sprawled on the floor; phone glued to his face.

Chris burst out dramatically, "She's right! We can think tomorrow! It's already too late and I'm STARVING!" He threw open the fridge with a groan, only to be met with several cans of soda.

"How can it be empty?" Nick shrieked, peering into the fridge with disbelief. "I don't know, but I'm not going out this late," Matt mumbled, already anticipating Chris's next move.

"Fine, then we'll Uber!" Chris declared, already pulling out his phone. His stomach rumbled ominously.

"I'll come with you," Nick whipped his head towards you, "Are you coming?".

"Actually, I think I'll stay. What if we do a poll on your Instagram?" You looked at Matt, seeing him give a small nod.

"The fans could decide what you guys do next! Matt and I could pick out a few funny or interesting ideas." You explained your plan.

Chris yanked on a hoodie, shoving his phone into his pocket. Leaning over Nick's shoulder, he announced, "Uber's a few blocks away, dude.”

Meanwhile, Matt had his brow furrowed as he typed out the poll story. A low murmur escaped his lips every now and then, presumably internal commentary.

Nick, however, remained glued to the brainstorming session. "Giant Jenga in the park? We’ve done that on tour. Ghost pepper challenge? Nah, too basic… Mystery food taste test?" He trailed off.

Just then, Chris poked his head back in. "Car's here, let's go!" he crowed, before disappearing down the stairs.

A comfortable silence settled in the room once they were gone. You glanced at Matt, still engrossed in his phone. A slow smile spread across your face as you remembered his peculiar fondness for pineapple. There was a mischievous glint in your eye as your mind went to something it shouldn’t.

Matt finally tore his gaze away from his phone, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He glanced at you, then stopped short. Your face was practically glowing, a spark in your eyes. A silent giggle escaped your lips, and you quickly clamped a hand over your mouth, only making your smile stretch wider.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked, his own smile faltering slightly in confusion.

You peeked out from behind your hand. "Nothing just remembered something," you mumbled, trying (and failing) to appear innocent.

"Would it be a good video idea?" The question sent a fresh wave of giggles cascading through you. You buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with laughter.

Matt's smile vanished completely, replaced by a furrowed brow. He leaned closer, "Well?" he asked, completely lost.

After a while trying to regain your composure, you finally managed to look up, a single, choked chuckle escaping your lips. Matt just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, don't tell me,” He muttered, about to turn back to his phone.

But you couldn't resist. Leaning forward, you lowered your voice to a dramatic whisper. "Is it true?"

"What?" he asked.

You leaned in even closer, eyes twinkling. "You know… the thing with the pineapple and…" you trailed off, waiting for the light bulb to flicker on in his head.

Matt's brow furrowed even deeper. "What about the pineapple?" he repeated, completely at a loss. "The fact that I like it?"

"No, silly!" you exclaimed, barely containing another giggle. "You know what… about the thing it does…" You trailed off again, hoping he'd catch on.

He repeated, "What about the pineapple?" this time with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Your cheeks flushed a light pink as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. "You know…" you mumbled. A playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but you quickly looked down at your lap, overwhelmed by a sudden shyness.

Matt groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air. "Oh my god, Y/N, just say it!" he exclaimed with exasperation. "You're killing me with this suspense!"

Taking a deep breath, you leaned in. "Is it true that pineapple makes it…sweeter?" you finally blurted out.

Matt stared at you for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion. Then, slowly, a blush mirrored yours creeping up his neck. His eyes widened in realization, and a gasp escaped his lips. Oh. That's what you were talking about.

A wide grin split his face, revealing a dazzling display of white teeth. He leaned back, letting out a hearty laugh. "I don't know, Y/N," he said, staring at you.

Matt's eyes locked with yours for a beat longer than necessary. A playful glint danced in their depths, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Was he… teasing you? The heat rose in your cheeks, and you quickly looked away.

He cleared his throat, breaking the unexpected tension. "Why are you asking?" he continued with amusement.

"Well, it's just…" you stammered, cheeks burning even hotter. "I've seen some things online, you know, about pineapples and… well, let's just say I was curious."

Matt nodded slowly, his gaze still lingering on you for a moment too long. Finally, he seemed to tear himself away, but just as he started to look away, you blurted out, "Alright, alright, show me the poll options for your Friday video" You forced a laugh.

He chuckled and started walking over to you, phone in hand. "Here you go, curious one," he said, a playful smile on his face as he sat next to you on the couch.

You scrolled through the answers given by their fans, but your mind kept wandering back to your question.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, scrolling. You stole a glance at Matt, finding him already gazing at you. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a playful smile tugging at his lips. A blush crept up your neck, a shy smile mirroring his before you quickly looked away. But the question burned on your tongue, and you couldn't resist another peek.

"Can I find out?" you whispered.

Matt's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Find out?" he repeated, his voice was low.

You nodded shyly, biting your lower lip as your doe eyes flickered back to his. A blush stained his cheeks, mirroring the heat rising in your own. Taking a slow, deliberate breath, you began to turn towards him.

Matt instinctively leaned back, resting his back on the couch. His legs fell slightly apart as you reached out, hands brushing against his thighs. You knelt between his legs, your heart hammering in your chest.

"Is this okay?" you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper. You couldn't miss the way his breathing hitched, how his eyes darkened with desire, and a faint blush painted his cheeks, as his gaze devoured yours.

His nod was a curt movement, his eyes never leaving yours. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached for his belt buckle, the cool metal sending a jolt through your hand. Taking a shaky breath, you unfastened the leather, the click echoing in the sudden silence of the room.

You tackled his denim jeans next. As you peeled the fabric down his legs, you noticed a subtle shift in his posture. He hitched his hips upwards ever so slightly, making it easier for you to take his pants off. The denim landed on the floor, revealing a bulge that strained against the thin fabric of his boxer.

The sight stole your breath away. Heat flooded your cheeks. Tentatively, you reached out, fingertips brushing the soft cotton. Matt inhaled sharply. With a growing sense of urgency, you decided to see it all.

Slowly, you peeled down the last remaining barrier. The sight that greeted you was both breathtaking and intimidating. Your mouth instinctively watered in anticipation. Licking your lips unconsciously, you prepared to finally explore with your mouth, seeking the answer to the question that had consumed your thoughts.

His gaze locked with yours, his tongue nervously darting across his bottom lip, as you spitted into the palm of your right hand. A slow smile played on your lips. Deliberately, you mirrored his action, wetting your own lips. Matt's breath hitched, his pupils dilating as you drew your hand up, finally meeting his gaze again with a provocative glint.

As your hand glided across his skin, a low moan escaped his lips, his body tensing slightly with anticipation. You massaged his cock up and down repetitively, his response was immediate – a sharp intake of breath, his eyes fluttering closed momentarily. The pace quickened, fuelled by his growing moans and the deepening furrow of his brow.

"Need that pretty mouth on my dick," he rasped, his voice thick with desire. A smirk tugged at your lips. You leaned closer, the heat of his body practically radiating against your skin. Following his plea, you trailed a wet line down his length with your tongue, finally swirling around his tip, sending a tremor through his body as you put his whole dick into your mouth, beginning to pump your head up and down.

His right hand reached out, his fingers weaving into your hair, in a desperate tangle. As your head bobbed up and down, the loose strands brushed against your flushed cheeks, his moans grew ragged, each one punctuated by a sharp intake of breath. “Fuck… good girl, yeah… just like that” His head laid back, eyes squeezed shut, the strain evident in the clenched jaw. "So close, baby," he rasped. "Cum for me, Matt." The urgency in your voice seemed to spur him on. And so, after a few more movements from your mouth, you felt his sweet cum releasing into your mouth. You licked his dick, cleaning him up.

You bit down on your lower lip, the question finally answered. A burst of juicy sweetness flooded your mouth, the tang of fresh pineapple lingering long after you swallowed. A genuine smile spread across your face, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Next time you get more pineapple," you teased, your voice in a low purr, "let me know. You taste absolutely delicious." He threw his head back with a groan, eyes fluttering closed as if struck. A low moan escaped his lips when you lowered your head, the warmth of his skin welcoming your mouth once again. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, his legs trembling with pleasure as you continue to suck his dick, making him cum for a few more times until you heard a noise at the front door downstairs.

You licked your lips one last time, savouring the lingering taste of Matt. He was a mess, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes glazed with a satisfied exhaustion. A tired smile tugged at the corners of his lips as you playfully passed him his boxers. The soft cotton felt cool in your hands as you helped him dress, his muscles relaxing with each article of clothing. The sound of his ragged breaths filled the air, punctuated by the jingle of the belt buckle as it slipped through your fingers. "You look incredibly handsome right now," you murmured, leaning in to brush a kiss against his cheek. A blush crept up his neck as a tired smile appeared on his lips.

Just then, downstairs the door creaked open, and Nick and Chris burst in, carrying a large bag. When they reached upstairs, Matt was sitting on the couch again, and you smiled at them.

"Hey, we brought some tacos!" Nick announced in a singsong voice, his smile faltering slightly when he saw Matt's flushed face and dazed expression. "Are you okay?" he asked concerned.

Matt cleared his throat, his voice raspy. "Yeah, I'm just really tired."

"Okay, have some tacos and then go to sleep, bro," Chris said, clapping Matt on the shoulder.

As the bag crinkled open, releasing the enticing aroma of spicy ground beef and seasoned vegetables, you brought some sodas for the four of you. You settled in around the table with Matt, stealing smiles and glances at each other filled with a shared sense of intimacy. Across the table, the boys were engrossed in their phones, scrolling through the endless suggestions flooding their Instagram story.

#sturniolo triplets imagines #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x you #sturniolo smut

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