#BYE CHRIS BUT WHAT THE FUCK

[sturnioloho]

brat tamer matt 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[mattslolita]

bambi!reader who's too impatient on a deal . . .

( banner from @bernardsbendystraws 💌🍓 )

"chris..." you whine, thighs squeezed together as you look over at him, "how long is this gonna take?"

"the fuck, bambi?" chris says in disbelief, his eyes narrowing at your pent up state, a scoff leaving his lips, "you seriously can't wait a few more minutes?"

you pout, taking his hand and placing it on your thigh, the cold touch his hand sending shivers down your spine as he gives the soft, brown flesh there a squeeze. you give him a pleading expression, and he shakes his head, rubbing the stubble along his jaw, chuckling lowly. he's parked out front of his customer's apartment, a small baggie ready for him in chris's lap as one hand sits on the steering wheel whilst the other kneads your thigh, causing you to buck your hips stubbornly.

"so fuckin' impatient, baby," he shakes his head, looking around for his customer, "don't wanna wait? fine."

chris's hand dances across the innermost part of your thigh, his fingers teasingly your lips as he rubs slow, deliberate circles on your clit. a lewd whine escapes your lips, as you buck your hips whilst your head lolls to the side. "oh baby please don't tease me."

"you think you gettin' a fuckin' say so?" chris snaps at you, eyes narrowing at you as he licks his lips at you, shaking his head as the corners of his lips upturned slightly, "m'gonna tease ya however i want, sweetheart."

he continues rubbing slow circles on your clit, your sensitive bundle of nerves begging for more attention as you spread your legs wider to give chris better access. he looks around and sees his customer coming out of his apartment, causing chris to smirk as he plunges one of his digits inside of you without warning, causing your hips to buck as you cry out.

"f-fuck!" you whine, arching your back off of your seat as chris's customer approaches his car.

"you better quiet down or i'll stop," he warns you, curling his fingers inside of your aching hole.

it takes everything in you to bite down on your bottom lip, almost drawing blood as chris adds yet another finger, moving them in and out at a rapid pace. you quickly reach for your sweater, placing it over your lap as chris continues plunging his fingers in and out of you, the wet, squelching noises sounding throughout the vehicle.

"what's up, man?" his customer greets chris, reaching a hand inside the driver's side to dap chris up.

"hey, man," chris answers him nonchalantly, as if his fingers aren't currently deep inside your pussy, hearing you struggle to conceal the sinful sounds that threatened to escape your lips.

you give his customer a tight-lipped smile when he waves to you, causing chris to curl his fingers again, your velvety walls clenching around him as continues his assault inside of you.

"alright thanks bro, 'ppreciate you comin' out here," his customer says after exchanging the paraphernalia, his eyes then kindly on you, "see you around, kid."

"b-bye!" you manage to squeak out, the tight coil in your stomach a reminder of how close you were.

as he begins walking away, chris turns to you, a smirk still transfixed on his face as he starts his engine ━ he rips the sweater off, throwing it somewhere in the backseat as he speeds his fingers up, watching the way they disappear into your tight cunt. "squeezin' me baby, y'gonna cum on my fingers?"

"s-so close, chris," you moan arching your back as your nails dig into the middle counsel beside you, "fuck, fuck, i'm-"

that particular curl of chris's fingers sends you over the edge, a loud moan leaving your lips as you cum hard around his fingers, your arousal covering them completely as he coaxes you through your orgasm. with a wet squelch, chris takes his fingers out of you, causing you to hiss at the sensitivity as he brings his fingers up to his lips, licking them clean.

"that was so good," you pant, grabbing a pack of tissues from the side door, helping chris wipe his fingers clean, "thank you, baby!"

"yeah yeah, y'know you're gettin' it when we get back home, right?"

[ifwdominicfike]

matt helps you out a little while taking a group photo with him and his brothers

── .✦. ──

“okay, guys can you hurry up my arms gonna fucking fall off already god-“ nick says while holding up the small camera in his hand.

you all had gone out but it really was just an excuse for you and nick to get good pictures to post, as the night went on the pink and orange hues in the sky were starting to fade before you knew it.

you guys had been trying to get a good picture for about 10 minutes now, nick was complaining about why he had to hold the camera, chris kept saying matt was blocking his view, and matt kept pointing out every cat he saw so you weren’t really getting anywhere.

“okay okay nick shut the fuck up already, kid we’re going” chris says obviously irritated by his brother, you stood in front of matt so you weren’t blocked by him. nick had angled the camera high to get all 4 of you in the photo, you heard the click and saw the flash go off.

“fuck y/n again you need to tiptoe or something bitch” you groan, this was the third photo already with only the top of your head showing. “no need to yell nick im right here, my ears are gonna melt off because of you” matt giggles at your response which also causes you to laugh along with him.

“can we hurry the fuck up before i start walking home i swear you guys are not funny” this leads to you, chris and matt to look at each other and laugh once more. “okay kid no need to throw a fit just come on” chris says motioning to the camera, same process again, only this time it was half of your face.

“there’s no way- im so done. matt get the car started im going home-“ your cut off by matt grabbing your wrist and dragging you back “nope sweetheart just one more, please?” he smiles and you groan rolling your eyes. “fine but what if w-“ you feel matts hands grasp onto your hips and lift you up a little “what the f- matt put me down” he laughs while tightening his grip.

“nick hurry up and take the picture come on” he says hurriedly, his touch tickling you, making you squirm and giggle, the flash goes off once again. “FINALLY.” nick yells “we finally have a decent picture, okay now we can go home” he bluntly says making his way towards the car, chris on the way right behind him.

“that was not funny matt, what if i fell?” you say, trying to straighten out your clothes from twisting and turning around in matts hold. “but you didn’t though baby, did you?” he grins while you roll your eyes at him in “annoyance”.

“yeah whatever matt” you couldn’t hold back your smile anymore when you felt his hand snake around your waist and pull you in closer, he looks down at you and smirks. his lips almost connecting with yours until you hear nick honk the horn. “can you guys hurry up?! im not trying to see you two make out 5 feet away from the car!”

you and matt burst into giggles “he just has to ruin everything, kids fucking annoying.” he grabs your hand and gives it a small kiss before making your way back to the car.

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

first blurb and idrk what this was.. i was bored and wanted to write it sigh. THIS WAS A PROMPT AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT WHERE I FOUND ITT 💔💔. ugh anyways i also know this is sorta unrealistic because the triplets are lowkey short kings.. BUT THAT DOESNT MATTER, bye love youu ᥫ᭡.

[muwapsturniolo]

Grabbers ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི M Sturniolo

“I forgot I had plans, streams over. Bye.”

Masturbation(f), uhhh sex tape? Idk I can’t think of what the actual name is but yall better yuh like Ariana!

this for my bae @leoslaboratory cause i owe her a matt fic. also cred to @bernardsbendystraws for the divider!!!!

Matt loved to spoil you.

He loved to pamper you, constantly sending you money so you could keep up with your quote-on-quote “high-maintenance lifestyle”.

He had no issues with it, why would he? He knew you could afford it and that you never would ask him for anything.

He just loved how good you felt and looked after getting your hair done, your lashes done, a facial, and your nails and .

You were already beautiful, he made sure to tell you that often, but it was something about seeing you look so fresh that just made him feel good.

So when he sent you money telling you to "go get your nails and toes done", you thought nothing of it. You went ahead and called your usual nail girl, hoping she could fit you in.

Luckily for you, she could. She also had a recommendation for you as well.

Matt was streaming when you sent him a picture of your nails, he couldn’t help but smile, ignoring the chat as they questioned why he was geekin’ at his phone.

However, what he didn’t expect was for you to send a video. Maybe you had gotten crystals on your nails and you wanted him to see them glimmer in the light- but something told him otherwise.

He was curious to say the least, the thumbnail of the video being your face with a rather seductive smile.

He decided to proceed with caution, not saying a word and simply muting his mic. He clicks on the video and his eyes widen.

It starts off with you smiling into the camera, slowly trailing your new nails down to your bare breast. His eyes nervously dart toward the monitor before looking back at the phone just in time to see you tweak at your pierced nipples.

You eventually move the phone down lower, showing off the rest of your naked body.

He knows the stream is curious about what he’s watching, he knows he’s probably red in the face - he just doesn’t care.

His eyes analyze the screen as you spread your plump thighs, your hand immediately going in between your legs and towards your pulsating heat.

He feels disappointment as the video ends, hoping he would actually get to see you touch yourself. However, his disappointment is long forgotten when he sees a new video pop up. With hasty fingers, he clicks on it and feels the air being knocked out of his lungs.

You had managed to prop your phone up between your legs, giving him a perfect view of your glistening cunt. He could feel his pants tighten as your hand came into view, the new nails adding a certain je ne sais quoi to the video.

It’s like he was in a trance, his eyes following the movement of your fingers as you drew circles against your clit. Your moans were just as captivating as your hand movements, the way you moaned his name causing a shiver to run up his spine.

“Matt what the fuck are you doing bro?”

He ignored Chris’s voice, keeping his eyes and ears on the risqué video of you.

He could hear the lewd squelching of your juices, the wet sound making him wish it was his own fingers or even his mouth making you feel this good.

His mouth parts slightly watching as your favorite dildo comes into view.

It was a mold of his dick, made in pink.

“Fuck-“ he mutters just as you push the dildo into your aching hole, your moans only getting louder. He couldn’t see, he could only imagine the way your eyes rolled back and your lips parted.

His eyes focus on the white ring already forming at the base of the dildo. God, how he wishes it was him.

He could tell you were close, the way you sped up the pumping of the dildo, your other hand stuttering against your clit.

“Oh fuck! Shit, Matt Matt Ma-“

It’s like the odds were against him, your orgasm hitting you full throttle and making your foot knock over your phone, causing him to miss his favorite part.

He curses to himself, now frustrated sexually.

Without thinking too much about it, he unmutes his mic, his jaw clenched and voice strained.

“I forgot I had plans, streams over. Bye.”

He doesn’t waste a second in jumping up and grabbing his things, darting out of his room and out of the house. He hears his brothers shouting for him, but he only has one thing on his mind and it’s you.

He arrives at your house in no time, barging through the front door and rushing to your room. As he enters, he sees you already kneeling on your bed, looking at him innocently.

He quickly approaches, cupping your face in his hands.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?” You smile at him, already starting to palm him through the material of his pants.

“I just wanted to thank you for my new nails…do you like them?”

He shudders softly as you snake your hand down his pants, wrapping it around his dick and stroking softly.

“Course I do sweetheart. I really like the ‘m’, it was a nice touch.”

“Yeah? A nice touch?” You begin to pull his pants down, eager to satisfy him and show him how grateful you are.

“Mhm, such a nice touch.” Silence follows as he wraps a hand around his own dick and pushes your head towards his angry red tip.

“Use your hands too. Wanna see the nails I paid for put to good use.”

[ktinastrikesback]

Aged like milk

“Maybe it would’ve been better for Chris if I was the one who got shot”

Buck…you’re gonna find out the hard way how severely untrue that is

[sturncrazy]

SECRET KINK

Chris Sturniolo x y/n (fem!)

(anyone else = green)

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT!!NSFW 18+

this is from a request for a breeding kink soooo!! hope u enjoyyyy🫶🫶

(breeding kink…obvi, no protection, pet names, praise, lang, and light mentions of drinking at beginning)

authors note: GUYS!!! sorry it’s been a fucking MINUTE!!! schools been whopping my ass but i’m back babyyyyyy!! and to the baddie that sent in a request lemme say girl don’t apologize for being into the breeding kink stuff cause i think it’s hot too🫶💋

word count: 3,112

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“here❤️” you texted chris,

pulling your car into the driveway.

“doors open❤️ the boys are still here, dw they’ll head out in a bit”

“nw! i wanna say hi” you checked your makeup in your mirror. you and chris had been dating for almost a year and you spent a chunk of the week sleeping at each others houses. chris had been having a “boys night” with his brothers and their friend, and you could hear their voices shouting over video games as you walked in the door.

“hi boys!” you said entering the living room. you were received with a serises of enthusiastic grins, but none of them seemed able to budge from their game. you walked up to chris and gave him a kiss on top of his head.

“hi beautiful” he grinned at you briefly

“hi hon—ooh! can i have one?” you asked, glancing at the table full of beer cans.

“yeah of course! help yourself” chris said, returning his focus back to the game.

“oh man fuck you” said nate, throwing down his controller in defeat. you chuckled and snagged yourself a can out of the fridge. nate fussed around the coffee table, already bored.

“what’s this” he said, holding up a card game box.

“some shit we got as PR, but it’s a drinking game i think? don’t know, we can’t exactly post about it” chris said, momentarily glancing up from his video game. nate unwrapped it and flipped through the deck.

“damn these are crazy” he said, his eyes going wide.

“really?” matt said, clearly uninterested.

“yeah like, just straight up asks your body count or take a shot”

“ooooo how improper” you mocked. nate gave you the finger, kiddingly.

“read me one. i’ll be the judge of how fun the game actually is” the video game was becoming increasingly boring to watch

“okay, tough guy” nate said, skimming for a better card. his eyebrows raised, apparently landing on one

“what’s the craziest kink you have? drink half your drink if you don’t answer” you sucked in your lips, and raised your can to your mouth.

“oooooo” nick chimed in

“bet chris already knows that one” nate said, slapping chris on the shoulder. chris laughed, his tongue folding over the front of his top teeth forming a cocky expression.

“nuh uh, you couldn’t waterboard that shit out of me” you snorted. chris shot you a curious look.

“weird game, probably meant for horny high schoolers” you quickly tried to end the conversation and settled down on the couch next to chris, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and your fingers into his hair. he smiled up at you and gave you a kiss on the cheek, which resulted in him getting killed off in the game.

“aw shit” he muttered

“sorry babe” you chuckled

“YES! FUCK YEAH! I WIN!” nick yelled moments later, while matt chucked his remote half across the room.

“who’s playing me again?” nick asked, eager for another victory.

“not me man, i gotta get home and get some sleep” nate stretched.

“i can give you a ride” matt said, reaching for his car keys

“sweet. alright, bye brotha” nate said, pulling chris in for a half hug

“bye, y/n” he continued, tussling the top of your hair in a familial way.

“night, nate!” you laughed out as he and matt headed for the door.

“wanna get to bed soon? i’m pretty wiped out” you said turning to chris

“yeah sure thing. i just need to shower” he smiled up at you.

“let’s head downstairs” he patted your leg, urging you to stand up and took your hand, leading you to his room in the basement.

“night nick!” you shouted out

“uh huh” he half answered, clearly engulfed in another game. you followed chris and padded down the steps to the lower level. chris had claimed this floor his and had done a nice job with it, particularly since you helped. it was cozy and felt secluded. plus, the privacy of being two floors from where his brothers slept was an added bonus. you flopped onto chris’s bed and reached for the tv remote.

“cool if i take a shower now?” he asked, you nodded

“okay…better not be asleep when i get out” while chris was in the shower you snagged one of his old t shirts and tossed it on as a nightshirt. your eyelids were just growing heavy, when you heard his bathroom door pop open. chris walked out in plaid pj pants, shirtless, rubbing a towel against his damp hair. he looked effortlessly hot—enough to wake you back up. he gave you a smile

“i love seeing you in my clothes” you continued to stare dumbly at his body, you’d never get over the sight of him.

“you fallin asleep?”

“well now i’m up” you said dramatically giving him a once over, eyes wide.

“little freak” he mumbled, bending over you to give you a kiss.

“dick” you teased, shoving him playfully. he crashed down on the bed next to you. you moved your head to his bare chest. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you close, before speaking against the top of your hair

“hey speaking of you being a freak”

“oh?” you laughed shooting him a look.

“was nate right that i’d know your answer in that game?”

“well…” you struggled for words a moment too long, chris caught on and pulled back to look you in the eyes. his mouth ajar in a shocked smile

“WHAT?! WHAT IS IT?! cmon y/n you have to tell me”

“what?? no way! nope!” you shook your head vigorously

“what? that’s so not fair. why not?”

“cause…i dunno it’s embarrassing. nuh uh” you felt your face begin to flush.

“we’ve had sex like a million times. and you’re telling me THIS is embarrassing?!”

“okay well that stuff is different”

“what stuff”

“like…fantasy…y’know?”

“oh so you’ve had FANTASIES you’re hiding from me” nothing you were saying was deteriorating chris’s curiosity.

“well no not fantasies but like stuff i’d never ACTUALLY do”

“you’re killing me here please TELL ME”

“NO!” you dragged the word out and rolled into a ball away from him, laughing. chris clamored on top of you and rolled you onto your back, pinning your arms down on either side of your head forcing you to look at him

“tell me right now i swear to god” he said smiling down at you, his still wet hair brushing against his eyes. you hated to admit the way he was holding you down was already turning you on.

“you’re gonna think i’m weirddd” you whined

“no i WONT! i promise” he let go of one wrist and offered you his pinky. you locked yours with him and widened your eyes

“you SWEAR you won’t judge me”

“cross my heart hope to die”

“you’re an idiot”

“just TELL ME”

“OKAY OKAY” you pushed him off you and sat up, facing him.

“but just to be clear, i’m not saying we’d ever like do it. i’m totally happy never doing this it’s just like a weird thing—“

“ehhhh whatever enough spit it out” chris said cutting you off. you rolled your eyes at his childish behavior and took a deep breath in.

“okay fine. i guess i’ve always kinda had a breeding kink?” you winced at your own confession. chris raised an eyebrow

“i mean i’ve never done anything to act on it, but like the idea of it is just hot to me…i know it’s weird”

“so is it just the idea of like not pulling out?” his tone was impossible to read and you felt your palms begin a nervous sweat, what if this freaked him out?

“no-well i mean— that’s a part of it yeah—but not just that, y’know?” chris nodded, taking in what you’re saying.

“but you’re on birth control right? like nothing would actually…?” he raised his hand, in gesture to what he meant.

“oh no, i guess it’s sorta more a role play thing? it’s not that i actually’d wanna get pregnant, just more the idea of pretending like that—i—it’s weird i know—sorry—“

“i don’t think so” he cut you off, shaking his head. you froze slightly

“you don’t?” he gave you a small smirk

“no, i get” you felt your heart beat heavily against your chest. he studied your face for a moment, the silence in the room drowned out by the obvious tension, before he suddenly broke out of it.

“so, what are we watching?” he asked lightly, lying back with his an arm behind his head and facing the tv. you felt a small wave of disappointment at the sudden shift, but went with it.

“oh i dunno, nothing looks great” you sighed, lying back down onto chris’s chest. he mumbled a response into the top of your head, his free hand softly brushing up and down your arm. you picked back up the remote and continued to flip through the screen. you landed on an old comfort show and before you knew it the conversation seemed like ancient history. chris eventually moved his arm from yours to around your waist. you raised a leg over his. your eyes flitted down to his fingertips where he was playing with the hem of his shirt you were wearing. he mustve noticed because he began to pull the fabric up higher, exposing even more of your barely covered lower half. you looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“what?” he chuckled

“whatcha doing there christopher”

“nothing” he mused, watching his own hands fumble with the shirt, the occasional bump of his cold fingertips against your skin sending little jolts through your body

“y’just look so sexy like this” he mumbled

“oh yeah?” his hands now lightly grazing your bare hip bone, the angle of your body being the only thing keeping you from behind entirely exposed.

“mhm. gets me all worked up”

“how worked up” you said in a innocent tone, looking up at him with doe eyes before sliding the hand your had from his stomach to his crotch. his eyes screwed shut and he let out a small hiss as your palm reached his already stiff clothed length. you scoffed lightly.

“hard for me already, huh?” you began to rub your hand against him, adding some pressure. chris squirmed under your touch, a faint groan escaping him. he nodded.

“aww poor thing. want me to help you out?” you said in a sweetly, palming his dick harder. he nodded his head, again, vigorously. you removed your hand to spit on it and he watched you wide eyed. you bit your lip in a smile, loving getting to see his face contort in desperation as you moved your hand down the waistband of his pjs. you wrapped your grip around his hard cock, it twitched against your touch and he let out an unsteady breath. you kept your eyes on him as you began to pump your hand up and down his length, watching him let out small moans and grasp at the sheets nearby.

“oh—fuck—“ chris sighed out. throwing his head back, his eyes rolling back into the sockets. his obvious enjoyment only made you want to hear more. you began to leave wet open mouthed kisses on his chest and moved down, slowly. his stomach flexed against each kiss and he whined against your teasing. you reached his waistband and looked up at him. he lifted his hips, allowing you to discard the pjs. his throbbing cock, still slick with your spit, slapped against his stomach. you returned your hand to wrap around the base of it and brought your lips to leave a sloppy kiss on its flushed tip. he shuddered before you began to lower down, sinking his dick into your mouth. you bobbed your head up and down, a trail of spit leaving your mouth. chris’s groans and curses filled the room in harmony with your occasional gags against his length. you felt one of his large hands reach for the back of your head. you tried to prepare yourself for him to push you further down, fucking your throat as he often liked to, but we’re surprised when he yanked your hair back, pulling you off of him. you looked up at him in confusion. he smirked and reached for your waist to bring you closer to him

“can’t cum yet baby” he lifted you onto his lap, his lips brushing yours

“don’t wanna waste any of it” he rasped against your mouth

“wha—“ you tried to question, as he wrapped an arm around your waist and tossed you onto your back. he pinned you, wrists by your head, and leaned down

“you heard me” he said cockily, before beginning to kiss you. you almost managed to fight for more answers, but chris began to grind his exposed rock hard dick up against your pussy and your mind went blank.

“oh—god—“ you moaned dumbly, raising your hips higher to meet his motion. his cock began to run up and down against your slick bare folds, brushing your clit repeatedly.

“such a good girl—so wet for me” he breathed out, the tip of his dick just barely adding pressure against your throbbing entrance. you heaved and thrashed underneath him. he kept your arms pinned and savored watching you become even more desperate.

“chris—please—“

he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours, and slide his hands to lock into yours.

“you ready baby?” he rasped out, letting go of your hands. you nodded and moaned against him.

“good” he said with a kiss before beginning to slide himself deep into your core. you let out a whimper as the tip of his dick pressed up against your most sensitive spot. a groan tumbled from chris’s lips and his eyes rolled back at the feeling of your walls fully tightening around him.

“god you feel so good, baby” he mumbled, before pulling back out of you almost fully

“please—fuck me, chris—“ you almost cried out, your pussy aching for more.

“—i need it so bad”

“yeah? you need my dick, honey?” he said sweetly, smirking down at you. you whined again and nodded as he thrusted deep into you again.

“oh god—yes—“ your fingernails reached to latch themselves deep into the flesh of his shoulders as he began to find a steady slow rhythm in and out and in and out of your squelching wet core. Chris’s eyes scanned your face and body lying beneath him as he fucked into you. they landed on your stomach and he licked his lips at the sight.

“fuck—look—can see me inside you—“

sure enough, his hard length created a bulge against your stomach with each thrust deep into you. Chris lowered a hand to press against it. you bit your lip and sighed out, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, groaning against your skin and bit your earlobe lightly.

“can’t wait to fuck a baby into you” he hoarsely whispered

“what—“ you half moan out, still too consumed with pleasure to think straight

“you heard me, sweetheart—gonna fill you up and stuff your little pussy—you’ll look so pretty all full of my cum”

your stomach twisted and your heart raced. you couldn’t help but let out an almost pornographic moan at chris’s words.

“you want me to give you a baby? huh, princess?”

“fuck yes—-please—“ you said, desperately. chris continues to slam into you, perfectly hitting where you needed him most. he gave you a passionate kiss before saying against your lips

“you gonna take every drop of my load, right?“

“yes chris—i promise—“

“such a good girl”

“don’t fucking stop—fuck—“

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give your pussy all the cum it deserves” he started to pick up the pace of his even plunges into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his began to echo in the room.

“gonna get you all big and fat and pregnant. well make the prettiest baby in the world”

“oh god—feels so fucking good—“ you whimper

“you ready, baby? want my cum in you now?” chris groaned, breathlessly. you felt your walls tighten around him as the familiar knot in your stomach started to form.

“yes—-please—fuck chris fill me with your cum—“ his dick twitched inside you at your words

“you’re gonna make such a perfect mommy—you’re doing so good for me gorgeous—just keep taking me just like that—”

the knot in your stomach begins to reach its last moments

“Chris—fuck—I’m gonna cum—“ you cry out

“good girl—cum all over my cock, sweetheart—“ Chris huffed out, coaxing you to release. your hearing begins to buzz as you feel yourself come undone. Chris continues to fuck you through your high as his motions begin to get more sloppy, the clenching of your walls bringing him closer to cumming.

“Ohhh—oh shit baby—“ he began to whine

“mmm that’s it—cum in me, chris—put your baby in me” you sigh out, wrapping your arms around his neck as you start to regain your senses

“ohh—nggh—i’m cumming—fuck, baby—-here it comes—“ chris pants as he roughly thrusts into you, his thighs and upper arms shaking slightly.

“OHHHH—“ his brow furrows as his release takes over. he lets out a loud moan as he haults, his cock buried all the way inside you. he shoots hot, thick, strands of his cum deep inside your walls, and then collapses against your body. the two of you try to regain your breath. chris lifts himself back up to look down at you and gives you a kiss, still buried inside you. you smile against his lips.

“how was that” he breathed out

“fucking perfect” you giggled

“yeah? i think so too” he chuckled, giving you a peck before lifting himself higher off you to pull out of you. he removed himself, gently trying to be aware of your sensitivity. you whined at the loss a little. he sits back and stares between your legs where your entrances still pulsates slightly, his cum leaking out. his jaw went slack

“what?” you giggled again, feeling a little embarrassed

“i could get used to seeing that” he said, not pulling his eyes away

“chrissss” you whine, attempting to shut your legs. he stops you with his arms

“nuh uh” he says before taking two of his fingers up to collect his cum and shoving them back inside you. you let out a sharp moan at the sudden feeling. he leans back over you with a smirk

“can’t waste any” he said, giving you yet another kiss

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HEHE

hope u guys like this one

ITS GOOD TO BE BACK!!!!

💋

[evie-sturns]

ignore - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you've been in a mood all day, ignoring matt and giving him little attention, you won't tell him what's wrong so he has to fuck the answers out of you.

contains: smut, arguing, crying, swearing, rough!matt, slight overstimulation.

-----------------°°••....••°°----------------

i've been pissed and emotional all day, i'm not even sure what for anymore, everything that people do is pushing me to my limits, especially my boyfriend, matt.

3:39pm

"c'mon we've gotta go." matt says, tapping my arm as i sit with my arms folded on the edge of matts bed. "i'm not going!" i raise my voice at matt, my eyebrows raised as i roll my eyes.

"chris and nick are waiting for us, we've booked the top golf session, we are going its for the celebration of nicks brand come on." matt says with a dad like tone.

i shake my head, "i don't want to, my head hurts." i say in a whiny tone, somehow on the verge of tears, matt lets out an exhausted sigh, tears start to fall down my cheek as i rub my eyes.

"why are you crying." matt says in a calm tone with a sigh. "go away!" i groan, matt walks out of the room shaking his head, he closes the door behind him.

"i don't know whats going on with her, im sorry nick." i hear him say to his brothers outside the door, i sniffle as i flop down on the bed behind me.

6:12pm

i've been enjoying the empty house by myself for the past few hours, i hear the triplets pull into the driveway before knocking on the door, i unlock the door and they all walk in, i give nick a hug, before asking chris how it went. he instantly starts to yap about his golf shots.

after a handful of minutes chris decides we should all watch a movie, matt tries saying something to me but i simply ignore him,

"y/n." matt repeats himself, i shoot him a side eye before continuing to speak to chris.

nick and chris pile onto the couch, matt sits down on the other side of the plush couch, i walk over to matt, sitting down on his lap and laying down against him, my back pressed against his torso and the back of my head resting on his shoulder.

matts chest rises and falls with each breath, lifting me up and down subtly.

9:29

the movie has been playing for over 3 hours, i've shifted around slightly against matt a couple of times, but haven't said anything to him.

i let out a heavy sigh matt taps my waist before whispering in my ear "please talk to me, you've been acting very off today."

i scoff "i've been acting off?" i whisper back, an attitude clear in my voice.

"yes you have, been acting like that, bratty." matt replies, i stay silent after that.

"talk to me about it." he says again, i shake my head no.

the closing scene of the movie finishes, chris and nick get up, "im headed to bed, see you guys in the morning." chris says with a yawn, "bye chris!" i say chirpily.

nick stands up, "see you!" he says running over and hugging me before leaving the living room.

matt and i sit in silence for a minute or so before matt pushes me off his lap, "come with me." matt says, i stare straight into his eyes, not moving nor speaking.

"come. with. me." matt raises his voice, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to his bedroom. he slams the door and locks it vigourously.

i sit down on the edge of his bed, fiddling with my nails. matt storms over to me, picking me up then throwing me back down on the bed, i fall straight on my back, my head landing in his pillows, one specific pillow having a stupid pug on it.

matt rips off his cute crewneck sweater, my eyes drawn to his tattooed arms.

his two hands firmly grip the waistband of my sweatpants, before yanking them and my panties down in one go. he unbuttons his jeans before pulling me by my ankles towards the edge of the bed.

"matt-" i start, he cuts me off, "dont start."

his boxers drop to the floor before he stands at the edge of the bed, i wrap my legs around his waist. matt stares into my eyes, asking for permission, i stay silent, just staring into his eyes.

"use your words and tell me what the fuck you want." he almost demands, his right hand now firmly gripping my waist.

i can't deny the fact i need him, the sudden switch in mood turns me on, along side matt being angry which he is never like, hes never fucked me while hes mad.

"just fuck me then if your so desperate." i mumble, matt lets out an exasperated laugh before lining himself up with me, slamming into me, his tip bruising my cervix.

i let out a yelp, "fuck!" matt starts to pound in and out of me, not showing signs of slowing down.

he grips my waist with both hands, his fingers digging into my skin as small grunts fall from matts lips.

the sounds coming out of me echo throughout the room, resulting in matt slamming a hand over my mouth, the cold metal of his rings pressing against my cheek.

"gonna act like this whole day? think you can act like that?" matt breathes out, his left hand which is still firmly placed on my waist tightens. matts breathing picks up,

im starting to consider always acting like 'this' so that matt fucks me like this again, i dont think ive ever had better sex in my life.

he repeatedly hits a spot inside of me which is driving me closer, and closer to my orgasm.

"awnser. me." matt says, staring into my squinted eyes, he removes his hand from my mouth, reaching down and brushing my clit.

"i- i didn't mean to" i say cluelessly, my mind completely fogged as i clench around him.

the pit in my stomach realeases as i orgasm, matts thrusts stop, after all this not wanting to overstimulate me.

"gonna talk to me now sweetheart?" matt says his voice soft but his breaths heavy.

i scoff with an eye roll, matt raises his eyebrows before thrusting into me again, i wince, "sensitive.." i say as matt presses on my clit, he starts to thrust again, waiting for me to speak.

i let out loud moans as matt starts to pick up his thrusts "please-" i groan, "matt-"

"i'm sorry- fuck" i say, my thighs dropping from his waist and squeezing together, matt pulls out, finishing with a whimper and painting my stomach with white streaks.

"oh my god-.." i groan, covering my forehead with my arms as i wipe away the few tears that fell from intensity.

"are you okay?" matt says, picking me up off the bed and carrying me towards the bathroom.

i hum in response, "was it too much? did i hurt you?" matt asks, worry in his voice as he places me down on the edge of his bath.

he bends down between my thighs, dabbing a towel gently against my skin. he walks out of the room, shortly coming back now wearing sweatpants and a white wifebeater tank top.

he brings me over the shorts i was wearing previously, and one of his black shirts. he pulls them onto me gently, his cold finger tips brushing against my skin.

he picks me up again, carrying me over to his bed and flicking off the overhead light, leaving his dim lamp on which illuminates the room just enough. he lays down on the bed, i lay ontop of him.

we lay in silence for about a minute before matt breaks it "are you okay? i mean you've seemed really off today and i should've talked with ya." matt says, running a hand through his hair.

"im sorry." i sigh, "no no, don't say that." matt replies instantly, "i'm not actually sure whats going on, i think i'm just a bit hungry" i say quietly,

matt laughs, "i did all of that for you to just be hungry?" he jokes, rubbing his eyes with a smile as his ears go red.

"i don't know!!" i laugh back, matt wraps his arms around my waist as i lay on top of him.

i suddenly spring up, "i'll be right back." i say, jogging out of the room towards nicks room, i knock twice before opening the door, nicks laying on the bed on his phone,

"you okay?" nick asks, i walk over to him, giving him a hug.

"im really sorry about not coming to topgolf nick, i was in a mood and i am extremely happy about your brand."

-------------

[healmyhrt]

Ok so like yk how Chris always slaps Matt’s or Nicks ass well what abt they are like live on instagram or sum and he kinda just forgets and slaps the reader ass yk and he doesn’t realized u til Nick or Matt say something and so they is like edits on tt and yea 

⌗ public, c. sturniolo

chris x fem!reader

summary: what the request says :)

disclaimers!: established relationship, ass slapping, flirting, cursing, use of y/n, very short

a/n: i love when yall send requests and start it with “babe” like … what r we 😉??

“where’s matt? probably sleeping or something.” chris responds to a comment. nick sits back down next to him, handing him a pepsi can.

“but yeah guys, we’re back home in LA. and we just wanted to come on here and say hello for a bit.” nick smiles into the camera.

i walk into the kitchen, and open the fridge, unaware that i’m in camera view. “y/n, come say hey to the live.” nick smiles.

i walk over, a gallon of orange juice in hand. “hey guys.”

the chat starts going insane, and i slowly start to step away. chris grips the tee im wearing (which was his), and pulls me back. he manspreads, and i glance at the phone. chris shrugs, and i give him a look.

“wanna sit and talk to them, y/n? i can move seats.” nick suggests. i shake my head, and walk back behind the island. chris stands, and walks over to me.

all you could see in the background of the live was chris towering over me.

“why didn’t you sit?”

i glare at him. “you guys are on live, chris.” he shrugs. i cross my arms. “i thought we weren’t going public.”

“so friends can’t sit on other friends laps?” he smiles, and leans closer toward me. “chris.” his smile widens when he hears me say his name. “christopher.”

“call me that again.”

i laugh. “you’re unbelievable.” i begin to walk away, still in view of the live camera. i hear chris chuckle underneath his breath, and next a slap to my ass cheek.

i stop in my tracks, and turn around trying to contain my myself while i look at chris. nick had turned around, and his mouth gaped open.

“yall are fucking ridiculous.”

nick turns back toward the phone. “um… on that note, i think we’re gonna get off. i love you guys! bye!” he says.

nick picks up his phone, and walks over to us. “chris, you’re fucking insane. are you actually mental?”

i stand next to him, and look at chris. “THANK YOU!!” chris rolls his eyes, and i walk out of the kitchen, turning down the stairwell to chris’s room.

i hear footsteps behind me, already knowing who it was.

“what the hell was that chris?” i ask in a genuinely confused tone. he tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth.

“i thought it would be funny, sorry.”

“you’re the one who said you didn’t want to go public yet because of how hard it would be to have a girlfriend, then you do this shit?”

i sit on the edge of his bed. chris slumps down beside me, and leans his head onto my shoulder. “im sorry.”

i sigh. “its fine.”

chris pulls his phone out, and sees a text from nick.

“look what you did dumbass.” the text read. i giggle at the message, as chris slides it to the side, opening it.

it was a tiktok video of a screen recording from the live, and the clip was of chris slapping my butt. my eyes widen.

“shit, they’re fast.”

[ghsface]

double pleasure - Matt and Chris Sturniolo

Sumary: ur fucking with Matt and accidentally shout Chris's name. Matt challenges you to indulge your desires that you have with chris. The night turns into a wild threesome

Warnings: smut +18, threesome, matt and reader are a couple, sexual tension, explicit content, use of fingers, unprotected sex (don't do it), dom!chris, dom!matt, sub!reader the reader feels empowered in a moment idk if that makes sense.

A/n: I'm collecting stuff from my drafts that I once wrote, I apologize if this doesn't make sense or is somewhat poorly written, I wrote this 2 months ago, the only thing I remember is that I was horny when I wrote it bye. the ending is shit i'm sorry

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

The heat between you and Matt had always been undeniable, an intense and passionate connection that seemed to burn every time your bodies met. However, there was something that ate at you inside, a small detail that, without you realizing, had slipped away one night.

The room was dark, with only the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, as you and Matt continued to be lost in the rhythm of your bodies. Your hands clung to him, your lips saying his name between gasps… until, in an instant, his name was replaced by that of his brother. Chris. You had moaned his name in the midst of passion, and Matt, to your surprise, had acted as if he hadn’t heard it. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t change the rhythm. He just continued, bringing you to ecstasy as he always did.

Since that night, you felt more restless, waiting for some sign of annoyance or some sarcastic comment. But nothing. Matt was still the same, loving, attentive, not a single word about what had happened. Sometimes you thought maybe he hadn’t even heard. But every time you saw Chris, a spark of guilt ran through your body, mixed with something darker, something you didn’t want to admit.

One night, you decided to surprise Matt. You put on a set of black lingerie that you knew he would love. You looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure every detail was perfect before settling into bed, waiting for him to arrive. Desire burned within you as you imagined what would happen as soon as he walked in.

You heard the door open and the sound of footsteps approaching. You bit your lip, ready to see Matt’s expression when he found you like this. But, when you looked up, it wasn’t just Matt who entered the room.

Chris was with him.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a second, confusion replaced desire. You looked at Matt, waiting for an explanation. But he just smiled, a smile you hadn’t seen before, something dark in his eyes.

“You know,” Matt said as he closed the door behind Chris, “I’ve been thinking about what happened that night.”

Your body tensed, a shiver running through you. He had heard it.

“I thought maybe you hadn’t heard it…” you murmured, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

Matt laughed softly and shook his head. “I heard it very clearly.” He took a step closer to the bed. “You moaned my brother’s name while you were fucking me. And honestly, it took me a while to process it. But then I thought… if you want him so much, why not let you have him?”

Chris, who had remained silent until that moment, was looking at you with an intensity that made you shiver. You didn’t know what to say. The words were stuck in your throat as you tried to comprehend what was happening.

“Matt…” you started, but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not mad. In fact, I think this could be… interesting.” Matt moved closer to the bed, his hand gently caressing your cheek before moving to your chin, tilting your face up so you were looking at him. “If you want Chris so much, show me. Fuck him.”

The room filled with an electric tension as Matt’s words hung in the air. You looked at Chris, his breathing seemed heavier, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and wariness. You knew you could stop all of this at any moment, but something in you didn’t want to. The thought of being between the two brothers made you feel something you’d never experienced.

Without another word, Matt pulled away, leaving you with Chris.

Chris stood still for a moment, his eyes roaming every inch of your body covered in that lingerie that, now, seemed much more revealing. You felt the tension in the air, that feeling of being at the center of something forbidden and dangerous.

The silence in the room was deafening, but you could hear your heartbeat hammering in your ears. Slowly, Chris took a step towards you, his gaze darkened by desire and uncertainty.

“Are you sure?” he finally asked, his voice huskier than you’d heard before.

You looked at Matt, searching for any hint of regret or doubt on his face. But he just crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, watching the scene with an almost predatory expression.

“Do it,” he murmured, his tone soft but full of authority.

Your breathing quickened, and the heat in your body intensified. It was a situation you would never have imagined, but there was something about the idea of ​​being with Chris, with Matt there, watching, that made you lose control.

Chris finally approached the bed, his hand gently brushing your leg. You felt a shiver run down your spine, as he slid his fingers along the fabric of your lingerie, as if he were exploring unfamiliar territory.

“I never thought this would happen,” Chris murmured, his eyes locked with yours as his hand slowly moved up your thigh.

“Me neither…” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Chris leaned into you, his warm breath caressing your skin. His lips brushed your neck, and you closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his body so close to yours. But before you could do anything else, you heard the sound of Matt moving behind you.

“Don’t forget about me,” Matt said, his voice low and almost teasing.

You turned slightly, your eyes meeting his. Matt moved closer to the bed, his hand wrapping around your waist as Chris continued to kiss your skin. The contrast between the two of you was overwhelming, and you found yourself lost in the pleasure of having the two of them so close.

Chris took your face in his hands, his lips finally meeting yours in an intense, almost hungry kiss. You felt the weight of his body on you, as Matt stayed by your side, watching every movement, every gasp that escaped your lips.

The room seemed smaller, the air heavy with tension and desire. There was no turning back now, you were trapped between the two brothers, each claiming a part of you.

Chris deepened the kiss, and you felt his tongue explore every corner of your mouth, slow and possessive. There was a restrained strength in his movements, as if he had been waiting for this moment longer than he was willing to admit. His firm hands roamed your body, tracing every curve, every fold of the fabric that barely covered you.

Matt, meanwhile, knelt on the bed behind you, his fingers sliding down your back to the edge of the lingerie, slowly pulling it down. The touch of both of them on your skin made you lose track of everything around you except them. Their breaths mixed with yours, their hands synchronized, creating a symphony of sensations.

Chris pulled away from your lips, his gaze burning with desire. He held you by the hips and gently turned you so that you were kneeling in front of him on the bed, your body between the two of them. You felt Matt's gaze fixed on you, a mix of pride and perversion in his expression.

“Show him how much you want him,” Matt murmured, his voice low and heavy with authority as he too began to strip off his clothes.

Chris didn’t wait any longer. His hands traveled firmly to your hips, pulling you into him. You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against you through his clothes, and the mere contact drew a soft moan from you. The anticipation was killing you.

“Don’t hold back,” Chris whispered, his voice husky, his eyes never leaving yours. “I want to hear you.”

Matt, still behind you, slid his hand between your legs, brushing your folds with a deft, teasing touch. You cried out softly in surprise and pleasure, feeling your body respond instantly. You could feel the mix of their hands, one holding you firmly while the other touched you with a precision that made you shiver.

“You like it?” Matt asked in your ear, his breath hot on your neck as his hand continued to work on you, his tone filled with satisfaction at what he was doing. “It’s not just Chris you want, is it?”

You were too lost in the pleasure to respond coherently. At that moment, desire for both brothers was consuming you. Matt knew it, and so did Chris. And now, they were playing with you, enjoying every second of it.

Finally, Chris stripped off the rest of his clothes and lifted you with ease to place you on top of him, aligning his erection with your center. He grabbed you by the hips, and without wasting another second, he slowly impaled you on his hardness. A guttural moan came from deep within your throat as you felt Chris fill you completely, his hands gripping you tightly, controlling every movement.

“Like that…” Chris gasped, his voice cracking with pleasure, his eyes momentarily closing as he felt you around him.

Matt, still behind you, held you tightly, his mouth running over the skin of your neck as his hands played with your breasts, squeezing and massaging, heightening every sensation. You were completely at his mercy, your senses overwhelmed by the pleasure they were both giving you.

The pace intensified. Chris moved your hips on him with a mix of ferocity and control, each thrust drawing a new moan from you. Meanwhile, Matt was whispering things in your ear, dirty words that only made the heat inside you grow even more.

“Come on,” Matt whispered with a dangerous smile on his lips. “Let yourself go.” The combination of their bodies and their whispers enveloped you in a whirlwind of pleasure. Each thrust of Chris pushed you into an abyss of sensations, while Matt explored your body with expert hands, playing with your breasts and caressing your skin. You felt trapped between two worlds, each of them taking your pleasure to a new level.

“Look how you enjoy it,” Chris murmured, leaning towards you as he filled you. His lips brushed your ear, and his deep voice made a shiver run down your spine. “Do you like this? Do you like it when we moan together?”

His words were a challenge, a reminder that you weren’t just sharing this moment with one of them, but both of them. The idea of ​​being there, between the two brothers, was a mix of intimacy and danger that made you feel more alive than ever.

“Tell me what you want,” Matt insisted, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers ran down your stomach and slid down, provoking more and more sensations. “Do you want me to do it faster? Do you want Chris to touch you?”

You couldn’t answer, only letting out a moan as you gave in to the sensations. Chris continued to thrust into you, each movement deeper and more powerful than the last. The sound of your body slamming against his filled the room, mixing with Matt’s murmurs.

“Come on, don’t be shy.” Matt smiled, enjoying the scene as he continued to caress you. “Tell him what you want.”

Finally, your lips parted, and in an act of boldness, you moaned, “I want… I want them both to touch me.”

The smile on Matt’s face widened, and Chris paused for a moment, looking at you with a mix of surprise and satisfaction. But it was only for a moment, because then Chris caught you hard, his hips moving again, making the pressure inside you increase.

“I can do that,” Chris said, his voice full of determination as he looked into your eyes. As you moved on top of him, you felt Matt settle down beside you, his hand finding your crotch, playing between your legs, stimulating every sensitive part of your body.

The two of you were in perfect sync, one pushing you forward and the other stroking you in a way that made everything feel even more intense. Every touch from Matt was electrifying, while Chris focused on bringing you to the edge, making you completely forget about everything but the pleasure.

“You’re perfect,” Matt murmured, his words like a spell, drawing you deeper into the maelstrom of sensations.

With each thrust from Chris, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to climax. His eyes were fixed on you, his expression a mix of desire and satisfaction. Matt, with his expert touch, knew exactly how to heighten your pleasure, bringing you over the edge.

“I can’t take it anymore…” you managed to stammer out between gasps, pressure building in your abdomen.

“Let go,” Chris insisted, intensifying his pace. “I’m here with you. Leave it all to me.”

Chris’s words were the spark that lit the flame. Your body shook, and in a moment of pure euphoria, you let yourself go. The climax swept you away, enveloping you in a wave of pleasure that had you screaming out their names, resonating in the room like an echo of what you were sharing.

The two men surrounded you, their bodies pressing against yours, and as ecstasy consumed you, you felt everything come together in a single instant, a moment of intense connection unlike anything you had ever experienced.

With every throb, every moan, every whisper, you found yourself in a place where desire and vulnerability intertwined, letting the room fill with the energy of three bodies intertwined, each claiming their share of you and reveling in the passion only they could offer.

The surge of pleasure swept you away, and as you sank into that climax, the outside world faded away. There was only the heat of Chris pushing you up and the comforting touch of Matt caressing your skin. The feeling of being trapped between the two of them was intoxicating, and each of them seemed to lose themselves as much as you did in that moment.

When you finally reached the top, a cry of ecstasy escaped your lips, echoing through the room. The sensation was so intense that your body shook as waves of pleasure coursed through every corner of you. Chris continued to move, taking you further than you thought possible, while Matt, still at your side, held you firmly, his hands making sure you never felt alone in this experience.

As the euphoria began to subside, Chris held you firmly, guiding you as his thrusts became faster, more urgent. The blend of your bodies was perfect, as if each complemented the other in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Chris moaned your name, the sound so deep it resonated in your chest, and Matt, sensing the moment, let his hand move to your clit, applying the pressure you knew you needed.

“You’re the one who wants us both, aren’t you?” Matt said, his voice soft, but the need in it clear. “I want you to realize what this means.”

It was a question, but also a statement. The truth was, yes, you wanted them both. You had been playing with fire from the very first moment, and now that you were in the middle of this whirlwind of passion, it all made sense. The shared intimacy, the desire, the danger… it all came together in a single instant.

“Yes, I want this,” I answered, feeling the honesty flow from you like a river in a desert. There was no turning back. You didn’t want this to end, for this moment to fade away.

Chris smiled at your words, and as he filled you once more, you realized there was a glint in his eyes that showed his own satisfaction. The connection was palpable, as if the three of you were linked by an invisible thread that vibrated with the energy of the moment.

“Then let’s enjoy it,” Chris said, and his voice was a deep whisper that made a new shiver run through your body. He took your face in his hands and kissed you with an intensity that left you breathless.

Matt, without wasting a second, intensified his caresses, his hand now moving with greater haste. You were surrounded by his warmth, and every touch was a reminder that they were both there for you. As the three of you gave in to the pleasure, a symphony of moans and breaths mingled in the air, creating an atmosphere charged with passion.

The room was filled with noises: the sound of bodies colliding, of labored breaths, of moans escaping your lips. Matt and Chris looked at each other often, their gazes filled with a silent understanding, a kind of connection that went beyond simple physical attraction.

“I want you both to feel good,” you said, aware that each of them had their own desire, their own needs. The thought of satisfying them both made you feel powerful, like your pleasure expanded to include the two men around you.

“And we will,” Chris replied, a smile shining in his eyes. With that final thrust, he increased his pace, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, Matt leaned in and began whispering in your ear, filling your thoughts with promises and desires that made you shudder.

“I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry,” Matt said, his tone soft but firm. “We’re going to make sure you get everything you want.”

The combination of their words and the movement of their bodies brought you to a new peak of pleasure, and your mind clouded as the sensations coursed through you. In the end, what started as simple three-way play morphed into something bigger, deeper. You were completely immersed in their world, where each of them had a role to play in your pleasure, and you, in theirs.

With every thrust, with every caress, you felt like you were at the center of something extraordinary, a moment beyond any fantasy you had ever imagined. And as the heat built once again inside you, you knew there was no place you wanted to be more than there, between them, enjoying the moment and letting passion take control.

The intensity of the moment continued to grow, and the air became thick with desire. Chris and Matt moved in perfect sync, each complementing the other, each thrust and caress increasing the level of pleasure that washed over you. The way they looked at each other, how they communicated without words, made you feel like you were at the center of their world, something precious and valuable.

Chris, still holding you by the hips, began to lean back, allowing you to take control. The change in position allowed you to play with the rhythm and depth of each movement. You felt powerful doing so, and the gazes of both brothers filled you with confidence.

“That’s how I like it,” Chris said, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Take me however you want.”

With a moan of satisfaction, you began to move on top of him, exploring how his body reacted to each touch. Matt’s hands continued to roam over your skin, gently sliding his fingers down your back, while his kisses went from your neck to your shoulders, marking your skin with heated caresses. The heat of his body was an addictive sensation that only increased your desire.

“That’s it, keep going like that,” Matt encouraged, his voice full of desire. You loved having them both so on edge, waiting for what you would do next.

Your movements became more pronounced, the pleasure pumping through you like a torrent. With each thrust, you felt Chris plunge deeper, filling you with his essence. Your body responded, eager and wanting, as the pressure built up again inside you.

“Don’t stop,” Chris whispered, his voice torn with pleasure. “I need more of you.”

The urgency in his voice made you smile, and with a surge of boldness, you began to move faster, pushing yourself into him with every movement. Matt’s hands gripped your waist, helping you keep up. The feeling of being trapped between the two men was intoxicating, and the pleasure soared to levels you had never imagined.

“I love seeing you like this,” Matt murmured, his voice deep and full of desire. His gaze was fixed on you, watching every move you made. “You’re incredible.”

The combination of his words and the way they both touched you made you feel more alive than ever. It was as if every caress and every whisper was designed just for you, and in that moment, there was nothing more you could want. You felt completely consumed by them, by the passion, and by the connection you shared.

As the tension inside you grew, you began to lose yourself in the moment. The room filled with sounds: your moans, Chris’s sighs, Matt’s murmurs, all creating a symphony of pleasure. I couldn’t take it anymore, and every time Chris thrust up, you felt the line between pleasure and pain blur, bringing you to a state of absolute ecstasy.

“I’m going to…” you managed to articulate, feeling the pressure building up in your abdomen reach its peak. The world around you faded away in a haze of desire and pleasure, and you couldn’t think of anything but the climax that was coming.

“Let yourself go,” Chris insisted, his eyes burning with a mix of desire and determination. “We’re here with you. Just let yourself go.”

With those words echoing in your mind, you let it all spill out. Your body shook with the surge of climax, an explosion of pleasure that had you screaming as waves of satisfaction crashed over you. Chris and Matt held you tightly, making sure you didn’t fade away into the abyss of pleasure.

The room filled with an almost electric energy as you gave yourself over completely. Each second seemed like an eternity as you basked in the intensity of that moment. The climax continued to course through your body, waves of pleasure spreading from your toes to the tips of your hair.

As the ecstasy began to subside, you felt even more connected to them. Their bodies continued to embrace you, each holding you in a way that made you feel safe and wanted at the same time.

Chris smiled, his gaze still filled with passion. “You’re amazing.” He said, his voice a breathy whisper from the pleasure still vibrating in the air.

Matt looked at you in admiration, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “I never thought this would happen,” she murmured, her expression revealing a mix of surprise and desire. “But I’m so happy it did.”

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ✮

[yaniluvs]

don't leave me , my love

[ 방찬 ] ✷ ‎. . after a series of terrible arguments, you break up with your boyfriend. life slows down. but then . . ?

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑖dol𝑏f!chris ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. heavy angst , lots of tears , misunderstandings , hurt , lovers to exes to ??? , second chance love , skz ensemble . 12OOOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. language , injuries , car-accident . ┆ ✉️ ⋮ a req. oneshot .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ hihihihihii finally another channie fic !!!!! the loml. seungchan stans rise !! i loved loved loved writing this. my angst comeback guys (flashback to my early tumblr era where all i posted was angst....) eh. i love angst. so much. woohoo okay bye <3 oh and ty for the req. anon !!! comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

the room smelled like rain.

not in the fresh, new-beginnings kind of way, but in the way that clung to damp clothes and old wounds.

it seeped through the cracks of the windowpane, curling around the tension like a silent spectator. outside, the city pulsed—headlights cutting through the mist, distant sirens wailing, the soft patter of rain against the glass an unwanted metronome to the argument unfolding within these four walls.

“you don’t fucking get it,” your boyfriend's voice cut sharp through the quiet, raw and exhausted, an edge to it that he never used on you before. not like this.

his fingers gripped the bridge of his nose, his other hand planted on his hip like he was trying to physically hold himself together. “you don’t—god, y/n, you don’t understand what it’s like to carry this.”

you stood by the doorway, arms crossed so tightly against yourself it almost felt like a shield. the air was thick with it—frustration, exhaustion, love buried under layers of hurt.

you felt it like a weight pressing against your ribs.

how it had started.

the room was dark save for the faint glow of his laptop screen. the hum of the air conditioner filled the space, masking the silence that had grown between you two over the last few days.

you had sat across from him, knees pulled to your chest on the worn-out couch in the room. the atmosphere was suffocating—a mix of tension and exhaustion—and you weren’t sure when the comfort of this small, cramped room had turned into a battlefield.

he was hunched over his desk, headphones perched around his neck, fingers frozen above his keyboard. you could see the subtle tremble in his hands, the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly despite his usual perfect posture.

chris—was tired. that much was clear. but what stung was how he wouldn’t let you in.

“you’ve been sitting there for hours,” you had said softly, your voice hesitant, almost afraid of breaking the fragile calm that hung between you.

“i’m working,” he replied curtly, not bothering to meet your gaze.

it wasn’t the first time you had this conversation, but tonight it felt different. there was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. you could feel the ache in your chest building, a familiar burn of frustration mixed with concern.

“you’ve been working for days,” you shot back, louder this time. “you barely eat, you barely sleep, and—”

“i’m fine,” he interrupted, his tone sharp and clipped, his eyes finally meeting yours. there was something in his gaze—tired, distant, and defensive—that made you hesitate for a moment.

“you’re not fine, chan.”

the words hung in the air like a challenge. he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy hair. his laptop screen dimmed, signaling inactivity, and for a second, you thought he might actually listen. but then he turned his chair to face you, and the frustration etched across his face sent a chill down your spine.

“why do you always do this?” he snapped.

your heart sank. “do what?”

“this!” he gestured vaguely between the two of you. “this… nagging. you don’t get it, do you? this is my job. this is my life. i can’t just stop because you think i’m overworking myself.”

you blinked, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “i’m not.. nagging, chan. i’m worried about you. there’s a difference.”

“well, it doesn’t feel that way.”

the bitterness in his voice was like a slap to the face. you stared at him, disbelief and hurt warring within you. “do you even hear yourself right now?”

“yeah, i do!” he shot back, his voice rising. “i hear myself every damn day, y/n. and you know what? i’m sick of it. i’m sick of feeling like i have to explain myself to you all the time.”

your hands balled into fists, nails digging into your palms as you tried to steady your breathing. the room felt smaller, the walls closing in as his words echoed in your mind.

“explain yourself?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “i’m not asking for an explanation, chan. i’m asking for you to let me in. to let me help you.”

“help me with what?” he spoke, standing abruptly. the chair screeched against the floor, and the sudden movement startled you. “you can’t help me, y/n. no one can. this is my responsibility. my burden. not yours! and i don't need you worrying to add on to that weight!”

“don’t do that,” you shot back, voice steadier than you felt.

“don’t act like i don’t understand you, like i haven’t been here every single fucking night waiting for you to come home, waiting for you to remember i exist outside of your damn laptop and deadlines.” your breath hitched, but you swallowed it down, forcing your voice to stay level. “i do understand, chris. but you don’t let me in.”

chris let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head as he turned away, running a hand through his curls in frustration. his fingers were trembling.

you knew he hadn’t eaten properly today. you knew, the small, white snackbox you had packed his favorite rice in, was left untouched. you knew he hadn’t slept much either. but that didn’t change the fact that he was hurting you.

“you want me to let you in? fine.” he turned back to you, eyes dark with exhaustion, jaw tight.

“i have no time. none. i have a fucking comeback to prepare, songs that aren’t finished, choreography that isn’t final, members who rely on me, a company breathing down my neck—” he took a step closer, and even though he wasn’t yelling, his voice was thunder. “i don’t get to sit around and wait for my life to fall into place, y/n. i have to make it happen.”

his words hit like a gut punch. you flinched before you could stop yourself.

something in his expression shifted for half a second—guilt flashing behind the anger—but he didn’t stop. couldn’t stop.

“and what, huh? you want me to pause? to step away? to just—what? go on dates, lay in bed all day with you, pretend that none of this exists?” his voice cracked, his hands clenching into fists. “i can’t, y/n. i can’t afford to be selfish like that.”

you felt something splinter inside of you.

"wow," you whispered, blinking rapidly as you looked at him. "is that what you think this is? me asking you to be... selfish?" your voice was quiet, but it held the weight of everything you’d been holding back. "i have never asked you to choose me over your career, chan. never. but i wanted—no, i needed you to meet me halfway. to at least fucking try. but you didn’t. you never do.”

chan scoffed, rubbing his temple, pacing like he was barely keeping himself together. "you don’t get it, y/n. you never will."

and that—that—was what broke you.

your hands shook. you swallowed the lump in your throat, but your voice still wavered. "you don’t get it, chan. you don’t fucking get what it’s like to love someone who makes you feel like an afterthought. to go to bed alone every single night and wonder if you even cross their mind.” you exhaled shakily.

“i never asked you to give up your dreams for me. i just wanted to be a part of them. but i guess i was asking for too much.”

he let out another bitter laugh, his face twisting. "i make you feel like an afterthought? that’s rich, coming from someone who doesn’t have to live under this pressure." his voice rose, sharp and unrelenting.

"you don’t know what it’s like to have the weight of an entire fucking group and a partner on your shoulders. to feel like if you fuck up, you’re dragging everyone down with you." he was breathing heavily, shoulders shaking. “you think i don’t want to be with you? you think i choose this over you? i fucking hate this. i hate feeling like this. but i don’t have a choice.”

there it was. the breaking point.

your lip trembled, and you hated yourself for it. "you do have a choice, chan. you always did." you shook your head, voice barely above a whisper. "you just never chose me."

silence.

a ringing, deafening silence that made the rain outside sound like gunfire.

the crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, but it only fueled your own anger. “oh, and weight? is that what you think i’m trying to do? burden you?”

“that’s not what i meant—”

“then what did you mean?” you interrupted, standing as well. your voice was louder now, shaking but firm. the tension between you crackled like a live wire, and neither of you seemed willing to back down.

“i don’t know!” he shouted, his hands flying to his hair in frustration. “i don’t know, okay? i’m fucking tired, y/n. i’m tired of all of this.”

the silence that followed was deafening. you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest, his words ringing in your ears. he didn’t mean it, you told yourself. he was just frustrated, just exhausted. but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“all of this?” you repeated quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he froze, his eyes widening slightly as he realized what he had said. “no, i didn’t mean—”

“save it, chan,” you cut him off, your voice cold and flat. “you’ve made yourself perfectly clear.”

chan stared at you, eyes widening, as if only now realizing how deep the wound he had inflicted was. his lips parted slightly, and for the first time that night, his anger faltered. his hand twitched like he wanted to reach for you, to fix the damage, to take it all back. but he didn’t move.

you exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to look away. "i can’t do this anymore," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. your own words tasted like ash.

chan took a step closer, his voice softer now, desperate. “y/n—”

“i think we should take a break.”

the words left your mouth before you could stop them, and once they were out in the open, there was no taking them back.

chan inhaled sharply, like you had just physically struck him. his face crumpled for the briefest moment before he forced it into something unreadable. he nodded once, barely.

“fine,” he said. but it was not fine. none of this was fine.

you walked past him, your shoulder brushing his for the last time in weeks. and maybe, in some cruel way, you were both waiting—waiting for one of you to stop this, to say something, anything that could undo the damage.

but neither of you did.

and that was how it ended.

or, maybe, how it all began.

you turned away, grabbing your jacket from the couch and heading for the door. your vision blurred with unshed tears, but you refused to let them fall. not here. not now.

“thank you,” you stopped in the doorway, your back to him. your voice cracked as you spoke, the weight of the moment threatening to crush you. “really, for everything. i wish you nothing but happiness, christopher.”

the door closed behind you with a soft click, and the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. the night air was cold against your skin as you stepped outside, but it did little to numb the ache in your chest.

you didn’t know how long you stood there, staring at the empty street, your mind replaying the argument over and over again. his words, your words, the pain and anger that had filled the room—it was all too much.

and yet, despite everything, you couldn’t stop loving him.

present time : the first snow.

the morning stretched itself thin across the sky, a pale, muted kind of light filtering in through the curtains. it was the kind of cold that bit through the windows, creeping into the cracks of the apartment like it had been waiting for permission to enter. the air felt heavier today, as if winter had fully settled into its place, pressing its weight into the walls, into the silence, into the empty spaces beside you.

you sat by the window, knees drawn up against your chest, your breath fogging up the glass. outside, snowflakes drifted lazily through the air, dancing in the quiet before settling onto the pavement below. the city looked softer like this—less like the endless rush of bodies and neon lights and more like something frozen in time. for a moment, just a moment, it almost felt peaceful.

almost.

but then the memories came creeping in. the way the first snow always meant something to the both of you. how he would drag you outside, laughing, even when you whined about the cold.

"come on, it’s tradition, babe, you can’t just sit inside like an old grandma."

how he’d cup his hands together, carefully forming a snowball, only to grin mischievously before pelting it straight at your shoulder. the way you’d chase after him, slipping and stumbling, both of you breathless from laughter, cheeks flushed pink from the cold.

and then—later. after the cold had seeped into your bones, after your fingers were numb from the snow, how you’d both tumble inside, shaking off your coats, limbs tangled together as you curled up by the fireplace.

the heat of the flames casting golden light across his face, the warmth of his arms wrapped securely around you. how he’d press lazy kisses to your temple, whispering in that quiet, tired voice of his,

you’re warm. stay like this forever.

you blinked. the snow outside blurred for a second before settling again into focus.

it had been weeks.

weeks since that night. weeks since you last heard his voice, felt the rough callouses of his fingertips against yours. the apartment had never been this quiet before. not really. not in a way that stretched into your bones like this.

you exhaled sharply, rubbing at your eyes before pushing yourself up from the chair.

no. stop it. get up.

the cold floor met your feet as you padded toward the bathroom. the water ran hot, steam curling against the mirror as you stepped into the shower, letting it scorch against your skin, washing away whatever remnants of sleep and memories still clung to you.

you let yourself stay there longer than usual, hands braced against the tile, watching the water swirl down the drain.

by the time you stepped out, the mirror was completely fogged over, your reflection nothing more than a blur.

you ignored it.

instead, you pulled on a sweater—thick, oversized, soft. paired it with jeans, boots, wrapped a scarf around your neck. routine. just keep moving.

the apartment felt emptier than usual as you moved through it, wiping down counters, straightening pillows, clearing dishes that didn’t even need clearing. you weren’t sure why you were cleaning so meticulously. maybe it was just something to do with your hands, something to keep yourself from thinking too much.

but even then, the silence pressed in. the absence of his voice. the way he used to hum under his breath while scrolling through his phone. the way he’d reach for you absentmindedly, fingers finding yours without even thinking.

you swallowed.

the clock on the wall read 10:42 am.

late. you needed to leave soon.

you grabbed your coat, slipping it over your shoulders, fingers fumbling with the buttons. your scarf was next, wrapped snugly around your neck, followed by your gloves. you caught your reflection in the mirror near the door and paused.

the sweater you had chosen—it was his.

you thought you had returned all of his belongings that stayed in your apartment.

his sweaters, hoodies, tees, sweats.

maybe this was the unlucky— or lucky one.

a quiet, humorless laugh escaped your lips.

of course it was.

you debated changing it. maybe you should. but then again… maybe it didn’t matter.

the streets were covered in a thin layer of snow as you stepped outside, the air crisp against your skin. your breath curled in white clouds, disappearing into the winter sky. people moved past you—some alone, some hand in hand, their laughter rising into the air. you pulled your coat tighter around yourself, shoving your hands into your pockets.

the restaurant— your restaurant, the empty place by the busy crossroads you'd bought a few years ago, was a few blocks away. a small, warm place you had always loved—your own little escape from the rest of the world. the bell above the door chimed softly as you stepped inside, warmth wrapping around you instantly.

you forced a small smile at the familiar faces, nodding in greeting.

routine.

just keep moving.

the warm, familiar scent of fresh bread and spices enveloped you as you stepped behind the counter, shrugging off your coat. the restaurant was alive in the way it always was at this time of the day—soft clatters of cutlery against ceramic plates, the low hum of conversation from occupied tables, the occasional burst of laughter from a corner booth.

it smelled like home, like routine, like something steady when everything else felt uncertain.

“morning, boss.”

you glanced up to see mira, one of the servers, leaning against the counter with a knowing smirk. she had been working here almost as long as you could remember, joined a few months after you started the restaurant chain, and she knew you well enough to read your moods before you even said a word.

“you’re late,” she teased, but there was no bite to her words.

“i’m not late,” you said, rolling your eyes as you tied your apron around your waist. “i just… took my time getting here.”

mira gave you a look—one that was far too perceptive for your liking—but didn’t press. instead, she just handed you a notepad. “table five wants a refill on their coffee, and table two asked about the special of the day.”

you took the notepad with a nod. “got it.”

and just like that, the day began.

the hours passed in a blur of movement and familiarity. you lost yourself in the rhythm of it—taking orders, pouring coffee, clearing tables, exchanging pleasantries with customers who had been coming here for years. the work was muscle memory at this point, your hands moving on autopilot while your mind drifted elsewhere.

somewhere in the middle of the lunch rush, as you wiped down the counter, jaehyun—one of the chefs, poked his head out from the back. “hey, y/n, you eating today or just running on caffeine and regrets?”

you snorted, shaking your head. “i’ll eat later.”

“you always say that.”

“i mean it this time.”

he narrowed his eyes. “you said that last time too.”

“i—okay, fine.” you held up your hands in surrender. “i’ll grab something when the rush dies down.”

he grumbled something under his breath before disappearing back into the kitchen, and mira smirked from where she was refilling a salt shaker.

“he’s got a point,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “when’s the last time you actually sat down and ate a meal?”

you waved her off, busying yourself with stacking plates. “i eat. at home.”

“uh-huh. sure.”

you didn’t have an answer to that, so you didn’t bother giving one.

the day continued. the restaurant buzzed with life—friends catching up over coffee, families sharing warm meals, couples leaning into each other, their conversations dipping into soft murmurs.

you liked this. you liked watching people exist in these little moments, as if nothing else outside of these walls mattered.

an older woman at table seven caught your eye as you passed by. she smiled kindly. “it’s nice seeing you again, dear.”

you blinked. “oh—thank you. it’s nice seeing you too.”

“you’ve looked a bit tired lately,” she observed, stirring her tea slowly. “make sure you’re taking care of yourself, alright?”

there was something about the way she said it—something warm, something familiar—that made your chest tighten unexpectedly.

you swallowed. “i will.”

you weren’t sure if that was a lie.

the evening arrived before you realized it, the once-busy restaurant now quiet as the last of the customers trickled out into the cold night. the staff began to clock out one by one, exchanging tired goodbyes as they pulled on their coats.

“you sure you don’t need help closing up?” mira asked, pausing at the door.

you shook your head, forcing a small smile. “i got it.”

she studied you for a moment before sighing. “alright. don’t stay too late.”

“i won’t.”

she gave you one last skeptical look before disappearing into the night, leaving you alone with the faint hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of the wind outside.

you exhaled, running a hand through your hair.

the silence was heavier now.

slowly, methodically, you began the closing routine. you wiped down tables, stacked chairs, swept the floors, turned off the neon ‘open’ sign that flickered against the window. the motions were comforting in a way. predictable.

but when you finally locked the door and turned to face the empty restaurant, something about it felt unbearably lonely.

this place had always been warm, filled with laughter and conversation and life. but right now, standing here alone with nothing but the sound of your own breathing, it felt hollow.

you swallowed, staring at the spot where he used to sit when he came by to wait for you after his own schedule.

the memories came too easily. the way he’d lean back in the chair, arms crossed, a lazy grin on his lips as he watched you work.

you’re cute when you’re focused, he’d say. like, ridiculously cute.

you had always rolled your eyes at that, but—god, what you would give to hear it again.

shaking your head, you grabbed your coat and turned off the last of the lights.

the night was waiting.

and so was the silence.

. . .

the car was absurdly cold when you got in, the leather seats stiff from the winter air. you sighed, rubbing your hands together before gripping the steering wheel, the silence of the empty parking lot pressing against you.

the restaurant behind you was dark now, locked up for the night, its warmth left behind in the echo of distant laughter and clinking glasses.

you stared ahead for a moment, letting the weight of the day settle onto your shoulders. the exhaustion clung to you, heavy and unmoving, but there was something else beneath it—something quieter. something you didn’t want to name.

with a slow inhale, you turned the key in the ignition. the engine rumbled to life, the soft hum filling the car as headlights illuminated the frost-kissed windshield. you sat there for a beat longer, watching your breath fog up the glass.

then, finally, you pulled out onto the road.

the city stretched out before you, streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. the roads weren’t as busy at this hour, but there was still movement—taxis weaving through lanes, pedestrians bundled up in coats, the occasional cyclist braving the cold.

the world kept moving, even when you felt stuck.

your fingers tapped absently against the steering wheel as the radio played low through the speakers. some old song, one you barely recognized. the melody was soft, almost lulling, the kind of tune that made your thoughts wander.

and they did.

“you’re always working.”

his voice was still so clear in your mind. that night, the argument—it played back in fragments, like scenes from a movie you couldn’t turn off.

“and what about you, chan? you act like you’re the only one trying here.”

your grip tightened. the memory of his voice, the sharpness of his words, the way frustration had tangled between you like something inevitable.

“maybe we need a break.”

you blinked hard. the traffic light ahead turned red, and you eased the car to a stop, exhaling as you leaned back against the seat.

the world outside the window blurred slightly, the glow of headlights streaking across the wet pavement. snow had started falling again, light and unhurried, swirling beneath the streetlights.

you used to love this time of year—the first snowfall, the way the city seemed to quiet under its weight.

and him.

you remembered the way he used to pull you into the cold, ignoring your protests as he dragged you into the snow-covered streets, laughter spilling from his lips like warmth against the winter air.

“you’re so dramatic,” you had grumbled, shivering in your coat.

“and you’re no fun,” he had teased, tugging you closer. “come on, just one snowball fight.”

“you say that every year.”

“and every year, darling, you lose.”

the memory made something inside you ache. the way he would wrap you in his arms afterward, pressing his cold nose against your cheek just to make you squirm.

the way you’d sit by the fireplace afterward, tangled together under thick blankets, sharing hot cocoa that he always made too sweet.

it had been easy, then.

before the late nights, before the exhaustion, before the words that had chipped away at what you had built together.

before you started feeling like you were losing him.

the light turned green.

you blinked, shaking your head as if to clear it, and pressed your foot against the gas pedal.

and then—

the world tilted.

a sickening crunch of metal. the sharp, jarring impact of force slamming into you. the violent, uncontrollable spinning.

for a split second, all you saw were headlights—blinding, swallowing everything in white—before everything blurred into chaos.

the sound was deafening. screeching tires, the shriek of twisting steel, car horns blaring, the distant shouts of people. the seatbelt dug into your chest, locking you in place as the car was thrown sideways. your vision swam, dizziness clawing at you, and then—

silence.

everything felt… far away.

the ringing in your ears was the only sound you could process, drowning out the panic outside. your vision blurred, the edges of the world darkening, swallowing up the streetlights, the movement, the shapes of people rushing toward you.

your fingers twitched, barely. your head lolled slightly to the side, and through the cracked windshield, you saw red and blue lights flashing in the distance.

voices.

faint. muffled.

“is she breathing?”

“call an ambulance—”

“stay with me, okay?”

you wanted to respond, to say something—anything—but the words didn’t come.

your eyelids felt heavier now. the weight of exhaustion, of impact, of something you didn’t want to name, pressed down on you, pulling you under.

somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed.

then—

darkness.

. . .

the world around you existed in fragments.

there was no time, no clear beginning or end—just moments bleeding into each other, slipping between consciousness and the heavy pull of unconsciousness. you weren’t awake, but you weren’t entirely gone either. you were somewhere, floating in the space between pain and oblivion.

the first thing you registered was the weightlessness, the peculiar sensation of being lifted, carried. the cold, biting wind was gone, replaced with the sterile scent of something clinical—alcohol, antiseptic, the faint metallic tang of blood.

voices. sharp, rushed. urgent.

"bp’s dropping—move!"

"we need to stabilize—"

"get her on the stretcher—"

there were hands on you, pressing against your limbs, holding you still. you wanted to move, to speak, to tell them that you were here, but your body refused to listen. it felt like trying to swim against a current that only dragged you further down.

the pressure of something tightening around your arm. the firm press of fingers against your wrist—checking, counting, assessing. the beeping of machines, rapid and rhythmic, like an anxious heartbeat.

"possible concussion—mild contusions—check for internal bleeding."

the sounds flickered in and out. you slipped again, deeper into the darkness, but not completely.

then—light.

harsh, fluorescent, searing through closed eyelids.

the movement stopped. the sensation of being lifted again, transferred. the scrape of wheels against tile. doors swinging open. more voices.

"pupils reactive—no immediate signs of severe trauma—"

"get an iv started."

the world tilted. the mattress beneath you was firmer than the seat of your car, colder than the pavement. a hand smoothed over your forehead, pushing back strands of hair matted with sweat. the touch was gentle, grounding.

"you're in the hospital," a voice said, distant but soothing. "we’re going to take care of you. just rest."

rest.

the word settled over you like a command, a lullaby. the beeping of the machines steadied. you let yourself be pulled under again.

when you resurfaced, it was slow.

a dull ache pulsed at the edges of your awareness, the type that came in waves—bearable, but constant. your body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and something else.

the first thing you saw was the ceiling. white. sterile. unmoving.

then, your own hands—resting limply against stiff sheets, an iv taped to your wrist, an oxygen clip attached to your finger.

a hospital room.

the realization settled into your bones before you fully processed it. the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the faint hum of ventilation, the low murmur of voices outside the door—it was all unfamiliar.

your throat was dry. you swallowed, wincing at the soreness that stretched across your ribs, the dull sting blooming in your arm. not unbearable. but not comfortable either.

there was movement beside you.

a nurse.

she had kind eyes, the kind that made you feel like you weren’t alone in this too-bright, too-quiet place. she glanced at you, a small, reassuring smile appearing as she noticed you were awake.

"welcome back," she said softly, reaching to adjust something on the iv line.

you tried to speak—tried to ask what had happened, how long you had been here—but the moment your lips parted, she shook her head.

"don't strain yourself," she murmured, voice gentle but firm. "the doctor will come by soon, but for now, just rest. talking will only make it worse."

you frowned, but the protest never made it past your lips. even if it had, you doubted it would’ve been much more than a weak rasp.

she adjusted your pillow, moving carefully, as if she knew exactly where you hurt. the iv line shifted slightly, the cool liquid continuing to drip down into your veins, dulling the sharper edges of pain.

"your car got in an accident," the nurse continued, her tone soft, as though the words themselves were delicate. "you’re lucky—it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. some injuries, but nothing that won’t heal."

lucky.

the word felt foreign, distant. you had stopped at the light. you had waited. and yet—

your fingers twitched slightly against the blanket. you tried to piece together what had happened, the moment the world had gone from mundane to chaos, but the memories were scattered. all you could recall were headlights and the sickening weight of impact.

the nurse must have noticed the way your breathing shifted, because she placed a light hand on your arm, grounding.

"you need to rest," she said again, softer this time. "sleep will help."

you wanted to argue. you wanted to ask why this had happened, how long you had been here, if anyone had come to see you. if he—

but your body was already betraying you, exhaustion dragging at your limbs.

the pain wasn’t unbearable, but it was enough. enough to remind you that you weren’t okay. that you wouldn’t be for a while.

so you let your eyes slip shut.

not because you weren’t afraid of the darkness this time.

but because, for the moment, there was nothing else you could do.

the hospital was quiet in a way that felt unnatural.

not the usual city stillness—the kind that came late at night when the streets were empty and only the hum of distant cars remained—but a silence laced with something heavier. something sterile. something fragile.

outside, the world moved on. people walked down busy sidewalks, cars skidded through melting patches of snow, neon signs flickered against the early evening dimness. life carried on, indifferent.

but here, in this fluorescent-lit corridor, the world had paused.

the nurse glanced at the clipboard in her hands, the patient’s name standing stark against the white paper. her brow furrowed slightly before she exhaled, reaching for the phone on the counter.

"are you sure this is the right contact?" the doctor beside her asked, checking the same file.

"it’s listed as her emergency number."

the nurse hesitated for only a moment before pressing the call button.

one ring.

two.

a click.

the voice that answered was slightly out of breath, like they had been running.

"hello?"

"hello, is this..."

. . .

silence. the kind that didn’t come from confusion, but realization.

the kind that carried weight.

and then the line went dead.

the waiting room door pushed open half an hour later.

the person entered in a rush, but not carelessly—like he had run, but forced himself to slow down the second he stepped inside. the nurses at the desk barely had a chance to greet him before he was already speaking, voice tight with urgency.

"i’m here for y/n l/n. i got a call."

one of the nurses, the same one who had called, recognized him immediately. she straightened.

"she's stable. sleeping. but—"

"what happened?" he didn’t mean to interrupt, but the words were out before he could stop them.

the doctor nearby spoke this time, his voice calm.

"a car accident. her injuries are moderate—some bruised ribs, minor fractures. a concussion, but nothing too severe. she was lucky. she'll need rest, but she'll recover."

the weight of those words landed squarely on his chest. he exhaled shakily.

"can i see her?"

the doctor exchanged a glance with the nurse before nodding.

"she's still unconscious.. had woken up for a bit, after we had gotten her here, but then she dozed out again. you can sit with her. just keep your voice down."

a nod. then, without another word, he followed them down the hall.

room 801 was dimly lit, the blinds drawn halfway.

the beeping of the heart monitor was steady, a quiet reassurance that life still lingered in this room, soft and persistent.

and there you were.

lying against the pristine white sheets, head turned slightly to the side, expression peaceful in a way that didn’t match the reality of what had happened.

your arm was bandaged, an iv drip feeding slow, steady doses of pain relief into your veins. a bruise, darkening at the edges, sat on your temple. your breathing was even, but too still. too quiet.

he took a step forward. then another.

until he was at your bedside, standing so close he could see the faint rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers twitched slightly even in sleep.

he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

and then—finally—he let himself feel it.

the panic. the helplessness. the gut-wrenching thought of what if?

what if the call had been worse? what if it hadn’t come at all? what if this had been it?

his fingers curled into a fist, nails pressing into his palm. he inhaled sharply, forcing himself to keep it together.

but his eyes were burning.

and before he could stop himself, he was sinking into the chair beside the bed, his hand hovering near yours but not touching. not yet.

"i’m sorry," he whispered, the words breaking in his throat.

you didn’t hear him.

but he said it anyway.

. . .

the room was quiet—too quiet.

a suffocating kind of stillness. the kind that settled in hospitals, lingering in the air like a held breath. it pressed against the walls, snaked into the cracks of the cold linoleum floor, wrapped itself around the sterile scent of antiseptic and faint traces of metal. even the steady beeping of the monitor felt muted, almost like a whisper in the vast emptiness of it all.

and then there was him.

sitting hunched over in the chair, elbows braced against his knees, fingers threaded into his curls as he stared at the floor like it held all the answers he didn’t have.

his breath came shallow, unsteady. his chest felt tight, too tight, like the air wasn’t reaching his lungs no matter how hard he tried. his heartbeat pounded against his ribs, out of sync with the quiet rhythm of the machines.

the sight of you in that hospital bed was something he could barely process.

your face, pale against the stark white pillow. your arm, wrapped in clean bandages. the soft rise and fall of your chest, far too slow for his liking.

it didn’t feel real.

none of this felt real.

he swallowed thickly, but it did nothing to rid the lump in his throat.

he had been fine—or at least, he had convinced himself he was—right up until he saw you lying there, unmoving, their body smaller beneath the weight of the hospital sheets. that was when the panic finally crashed over him, dragging him under like a tide.

the kind of panic that left him hollow. that twisted something deep inside his chest, wringing him dry until all that was left was guilt and fear and—

he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to get a grip.

but the harder he tried, the worse it got.

his shoulders trembled. his fingers dug into his hair. his breath came out in a sharp, shaky exhale. and then—before he could stop it—his first sob broke free.

it tore through him, raw and aching, a sound ripped straight from the deepest part of his soul. his whole body caved under the weight of it, his forehead pressing against the heel of his palm as another sob wracked through his chest.

"shit," he choked out, barely above a whisper.

his hand clenched into a fist, nails pressing into his palm.

he wasn’t supposed to be like this.

he was supposed to be the calm one. the strong one. the one who kept things together even when everything else was falling apart.

but right now?

right now, he felt helpless.

his eyes burned as he lifted his head, gaze falling on you again. he wanted to reach out—wanted to take your hand in his, press his forehead against your knuckles, tell you he was here. that he wasn’t going anywhere. that everything was going to be okay.

but he couldn’t. because.. again,

because what if it wasn’t?

what if this was his fault?

the thought hit him again like a punch to the gut.

what if he had done something differently? what if he had been there? what if you hadn’t been alone?

what if—

"i’m so, so sorry, y/n," he whispered, voice breaking.

it wasn’t enough.

it would never be enough.

but it was all he had.

seconds passed. maybe minutes. he wasn’t sure. time had blurred into nothing but the quiet hum of the machines and the faint, rhythmic sound of his breathing.

he hadn’t moved from his spot.

couldn’t.

his body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and emotions he wasn’t ready to name. his hands were trembling, his fingers flexing and curling against his knees as if trying to ground himself. but nothing worked.

the guilt still clung to him like a second skin.

and the worst part?

you didn’t even know he was here.

didn’t know that he had dropped everything the second he got the call. that he had nearly broken the speed limit trying to get here. that he had spent the last hour sitting by your side, trying and failing to pull himself together.

didn’t know how much he missed you.

how much he needed you.

he exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over his face.

then, hesitantly—almost as if afraid they would disappear if he touched you—he reached out.

his fingers hovered over yours for a second, hesitant, before finally pressing lightly against the back of your hand.

a warmth that was barely there. a quiet reassurance that you were still here. still breathing.

his throat tightened.

"please wake up," he murmured, barely audible.

it wasn’t a demand.

it wasn’t even a request.

it was a plea.

a desperate, aching plea that carried every ounce of guilt and regret and love that he hadn’t been able to say before.

but you didn’t move.

didn’t stir.

didn’t even twitch.

and that—more than anything—was what truly broke him.

the past few weeks : what remains in the silence

the studio lights hummed overhead, casting a dim, sterile glow over the cluttered desk, the scattered sheets of lyrics crumpled in frustration, the empty coffee cups pushed aside and forgotten. the air was thick, weighed down by the scent of exhaustion—of ink and paper, of stale caffeine and sleepless nights.

seated at the console, shoulders hunched, was him, fingers threading through his curls as he stared at the blinking waveform on the screen. the metronome ticked steadily in his ears, a cruel reminder of time passing, of the hours slipping through his fingers like sand.

it was late. too late. but that didn’t matter.

the others had gone home. the studio halls were quiet now, the usual buzz of voices and laughter absent, leaving only the low hum of the equipment and the rhythmic tapping of his pen against the table.

but he couldn’t leave.

not yet.

not when his chest still ached like this.

not when his mind kept playing the same loop of memories, over and over, like a cruel, broken record.

"you don’t get it, do you?"

the words echoed in his head, sharp and raw. your voice—frustrated, hurt—lingered like a ghost, filling every inch of the suffocating silence.

he had said things, too. things he didn’t mean. things he hadn’t even realized were leaving his mouth until it was too late.

and then it had ended.

just like that.

no closure. no finality. just silence.

and god, the silence was worse than anything else.

it was deafening.

it followed him everywhere.

to rehearsals, where his body moved on autopilot, executing every step with precision but feeling none of it. to meetings, where words blurred together and became meaningless noise. to the dorm, where the others cast worried glances his way but didn’t push, because they knew.

they knew he was a storm waiting to happen.

and here, in the studio, where it was just him and the music—his only escape—he found that even that had turned against him.

because every melody he wrote sounded like you.

every lyric that spilled from his pen became a memory. a moment. a fragment of something he had lost.

and he couldn’t do it.

he couldn’t use your voice as his muse.

so he erased them. again and again.

trashed the songs. deleted the files. ripped the pages from his notebook and threw them aside, watching as the words—his words, their words—were reduced to nothing more than discarded, crumpled paper on the floor.

but it didn’t stop.

it didn’t stop the ache.

didn’t stop the way his fingers shook when he reached for another blank sheet, knowing it would end up the same way.

didn’t stop the frustration that built in his chest, hot and suffocating, curling around his ribs like a vice.

"hyung."

the voice was soft, hesitant.

chan barely glanced up, recognizing the figure lingering in the doorway.

minho.

the younger guy leaned against the frame, arms crossed, eyes dark with concern.

chan knew that look. knew the way minho studied him, like he was trying to pick apart the pieces of him that had begun to unravel.

"you should go home," minho said after a beat.

chan exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. not this again.

"i’m fine."

minho’s eyes narrowed. "no, you’re not."

chan pressed his lips together, turning his gaze back to the screen, hoping minho would take the hint and leave it alone.

but minho never left things alone.

"you look like hell."

"thanks."

"that wasn’t a compliment."

chan sighed, rubbing at his temples. the headache that had been lingering for hours was starting to settle in, a dull, throbbing pulse at the base of his skull.

"i just need to finish this song."

minho’s expression didn’t change. "and then what?"

chan didn’t answer.

because he didn’t know.

didn’t know what came next.

didn’t know how to fix the mess he had made.

didn’t know how to stop feeling like he was drowning in his own emotions.

minho stepped further into the room, his gaze softening. "hyung."

chan swallowed. looked away.

"just let me work." his voice was quieter this time. almost pleading.

minho studied him for a long moment before exhaling through his nose.

"fine. but if you pass out from exhaustion, i’m dragging your ass out of here myself."

with that, minho turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

chan sat there, staring at the empty doorway, his hands clenched into fists.

he should go home.

should rest.

should sleep.

but he wouldn’t.

because the moment he closed his eyes, you would be there.

in his memories. in his mind.

and he didn’t know if he could handle that.

present : five days in winter

the hospital was cold.

not the kind of cold that seeped into bones, but the kind that settled somewhere deeper, heavier. a silence that stretched too long, too empty, filled only with the steady beeping of machines and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the far wall. the scent of antiseptic lingered, clinical and distant, sterilizing not just the air but the very essence of the place.

chan had learned to hate that smell.

it clung to him now, in his black hoodie, in his hair, in the tired lines beneath his eyes.

five days.

it had been five days since he first walked into this room, five days since he first saw you lying there, still and unmoving, lost somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness.

and he hadn’t left.

not really.

sure, he went back to the dorm at night, sometimes. sometimes he sat in the studio, headphones on, staring at unfinished tracks that never seemed to progress beyond the first verse. but his mind was always here. with you.

and when he was here, he stayed for hours.

ignoring texts. ignoring calls. ignoring schedules that piled up like a stack of unopened letters.

he didn’t care.

he couldn’t.

because every time he walked into this room, every time he sat beside the bed and saw your still face, it felt like something inside him cracked just a little bit more.

the doctors had reassured him. told him there was nothing to panic over. that you were breathing fine. that your body was simply taking the rest it needed to heal. that waking up was a matter of time.

but what if time took too long?

chan exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. his fingers threaded through his curls, gripping the strands, frustration curling into his shoulders.

"you’re missing out on so much, you know?" his voice was quiet, barely more than a murmur. "the first real snowfall happened yesterday. the big kind. the kind you like."

he swallowed, glancing at your face. no movement. no response.

"some kids were playing in it. there was this little boy outside the café across the street. his mom was trying to get him to go inside, but he just kept throwing snowballs at his sister. reminded me of you."

a bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"you always loved winter, even though you complained about the cold."

silence.

the only response was the quiet beeping of the monitor.

chan sighed, leaning back against the chair, letting his eyes drift up to the ceiling.

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t fair how time kept moving forward like nothing had happened, how the world outside still spun, still breathed, still continued—while in here, in this small, sterile room, everything felt suspended.

stuck.

frozen.

a soft knock came at the door. chan barely reacted as it opened, the familiar figures slipping inside.

hyunjin and felix.

both looked exhausted in their own way. felix had a bag of snacks in his hands, a feeble attempt at normalcy, and hyunjin’s face was tense, like he had spent too much time trying to convince himself he wasn’t worried.

"hyung," felix spoke first, his voice cautious. "you should go home for a bit."

chan barely glanced at him. "i’m fine."

"you always say that." hyunjin crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "and it’s never true."

felix sighed, walking over and placing the snack bag on the table.

"have you eaten?"

chan shrugged. he didn’t remember.

felix gave him a look before sighing again, softer this time. "she’s going to be okay, you know."

chan exhaled sharply.

"you don’t know that."

hyunjin scoffed. "don’t do.. that. don’t start with the worst-case scenarios. the doctors literally said she just needs time."

"yeah, and how long is that gonna take?" chan’s voice wavered, and he hated how it did. hated how the helplessness crept into his tone despite how hard he tried to shove it down.

hyunjin frowned, his expression softening just slightly.

"she’ll wake up," he said, quieter this time. "she’s strong."

chan swallowed hard. he knew that. knew it better than anyone.

but it didn’t make this any easier.

didn’t make the waiting any less agonizing.

felix sat down on the other side of the bed, glancing at your unconscious form. "she looks peaceful."

chan didn’t answer. he didn’t know if he could agree.

because to him, peace and stillness weren’t the same.

and this—this unbearable stillness—felt more like limbo.

like something unfinished.

like something waiting to break.

and god, he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

the morning air outside the hospital was crisp, the early sun painting soft streaks of gold across the pale blue sky. inside, the hospital remained the same—a quiet combination of beeping monitors, hushed voices, and the sterile scent of disinfectant that had long since embedded itself into chan’s lungs.

he arrived early. earlier than usual.

not that it mattered—his sense of time had warped over the last six days, stretched thin between restless nights and hours spent sitting beside a bed that felt both too still and too fragile.

he pushed the door open slowly, careful not to let the hinges creak too loud, as if any noise might disturb you. but you hadn’t woken up yesterday. or the day before that. or the day before that.

still, chan had hope.

"morning, sleepyhead." his voice was soft, a little hoarse from exhaustion, but there was warmth in it nonetheless.

he shut the door behind him, moving to his usual chair beside the bed. his body moved on autopilot—placing his bag down, pulling out a bottle of water he wouldn’t drink, adjusting the blanket that didn’t need adjusting.

just something to keep his hands busy.

something to stop the weight in his chest from pressing too deep.

"you missed another sunrise," he murmured, fingers ghosting over the back of your hand. "it was a pretty one, too. all pink and orange—one of those skies you’d probably take a million pictures of and never post."

a weak smile tugged at his lips as he exhaled. "i can already hear you scolding me for not taking one for you."

silence.

the beeping of the machines remained steady. the slow, gentle rise and fall of your chest didn’t falter.

chan swallowed.

he shifted, resting his forearms on the edge of the bed. his fingers absentmindedly traced over your knuckles—slow, barely-there movements, as if they might break under the weight of his touch.

"remember that one time we tried making that french hot chocolate you saw a tiktok of, and ended up burning it?" he huffed a soft chuckle. "you were so mad. said i ruined the perfect winter aesthetic. but then you tasted it anyway, and we both agreed it wasn’t that bad. we even made it again, just to prove we could do it properly."

he exhaled through his nose.

"i think about stuff like that a lot."

he swallowed again, throat thick, voice quieter. "i think about you.. a lot."

his fingers curled around yours, gentle, firm. "you’re not allowed to keep me waiting too long, you know. my patience only goes so far."

the day passed like that.

slowly.

like wading through water.

chan sat beside you, talking sometimes, falling into silence at others. occasionally, he’d lean back and let his eyes slip shut, only to jolt them open again minutes later, unwilling to let himself fully drift.

the others didn’t visit today.

he was grateful for that.

he didn’t want to share this space.

not today.

not when he felt so—raw.

evening settled before he realized it. the room darkened except for the faint glow of the bedside lamp. outside, the city continued—cars honking, streetlights flickering on, the world moving forward as if nothing had changed.

chan hadn’t moved much.

still in the same chair.

still holding your hand.

his thumb rubbed slow circles against your skin.

the exhaustion was catching up to him again.

he fought it.

tried to ignore the heaviness in his limbs.

tried to push past the way his blinks grew slower, the way his head tilted slightly forward.

but eventually, he gave in.

just for a second.

just long enough for his body to sag, for his grip on your hand to loosen slightly, for the warmth of your skin against his to lull him into something shallow, something that wasn’t quite sleep but wasn’t entirely wakefulness either.

minutes passed.

then—

a twitch.

a faint pressure.

the smallest tug against his hand.

his eyes snapped open instantly, breath catching in his throat.

he jolted upright, gaze flickering down to your fingers—his heart hammering against his ribs.

had he imagined it?

had his mind finally started playing tricks on him?

no.

because there it was again.

a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch of your fingers against his.

his breath shuddered.

"hey—" he whispered, eyes wide, gripping your hand a little tighter. "hey, love, can you—?"

the door creaked open before he could finish.

the nurse stepped inside, clipboard in hand, but the second she saw the look on his face—saw the way his hands trembled slightly as he held yours—her expression shifted.

"what’s wrong?"

chan exhaled, barely able to find the words. "she—she moved."

the nurse’s eyes widened before she swiftly turned back toward the hall.

"doctor!"

chan barely registered the next few moments.

footsteps.

voices.

the doctor entering, the nurse moving to check the monitors, the air shifting into something more urgent—but not panicked. not alarming. just… observant.

"vitals are stable," one of them murmured.

"it’s a good sign," another reassured.

chan sat there, unmoving, barely breathing as he watched them work—checking, adjusting, monitoring.

. . .

darkness.

it is soft, quiet, weightless. a vast ocean with no shore in sight, where time does not exist, where thought drifts like mist, thin and shapeless. you are floating, untethered, caught in the liminal space between nowhere and somewhere. there is no urgency, no need to wake, no pressing demand. just the silence. just the stillness.

then—something shifts.

a sound.

faint. a murmur against the quiet.

it trickles in like light through the cracks of a door, hesitant yet persistent. a voice. low, gentle, carrying the weight of something you cannot yet name.

you want to reach for it.

but your body is heavy, limbs sinking, lungs thick with something dense and unmovable. the darkness doesn’t want to let you go. it tugs at you, pleading, desperate to keep you here, to keep you safe, to keep you—

another voice.

closer this time.

then—a touch.

warm, real.

a thumb brushing over your knuckles, a soft squeeze, something grounding in the haze.

the weight in your chest shifts. not gone, but different. a tether, a pull toward the surface. the nothingness that held you so gently begins to peel away, unraveling thread by thread, revealing something beyond the void.

your fingers twitch.

there is a sharp inhale—someone else’s, not yours.

the silence ripples.

then— light.

blinding, even through the barrier of your closed eyelids. it seeps in like an intrusion, pushing back against the murk of unconsciousness.

your head throbs. your throat is dry. your skin feels strange, as if it doesn’t belong to you.

then, after what feels like forever—

you open your eyes.

at first, there is nothing but a blur. a smear of color, shifting shapes, movement too fast for your sluggish mind to process. you blink, once, twice, and the world slowly begins to sharpen.

white walls. fluorescent lighting. the steady beeping of machines.

a hospital.

the realization comes sluggishly, like trying to recall the details of a dream upon waking. you start to remember how you got here. you remember why.

but then—

"y/n?"

a voice.

your gaze flickers to the source, slow and unsteady, as if your body is learning how to exist all over again.

chan.

he is beside you, close, his body half-perched on the chair, half-leaning toward you like he doesn’t trust the space between. his hands are on yours—solid, warm, trembling.

his eyes, wide with something that looks like relief and devastation twisted into one, are locked onto your face as if looking away might shatter you back into nothingness.

your throat is raw when you try to speak.

nothing comes out.

chan moves instantly, reaching for the cup on the bedside table. you watch, dazed, as he adjusts the straw, his movements quick but careful, and then he’s guiding it to your lips.

"here. just a sip."

you take it.

the water is cool, soothing against your throat, but your body feels unfamiliar, unsteady, as if you are a guest in your own skin. you pull away after only a small sip, and he sets the cup back down.

his hand returns to yours.

like it never left.

there is a moment of silence.

then, softly—

"you scared me."

his voice cracks. just slightly. barely noticeable, but you hear it. feel it.

the weight of it settles in your chest.

you swallow. try again.

"how long?"

the sound of your own voice surprises you. it is hoarse, fragile, barely more than a whisper.

chan exhales, running a hand through his curls. he looks exhausted, like sleep has been a stranger to him for far too long.

"six days."

you blink.

your mind tries to grasp the number, the weight of it, but everything feels slow, like you are running through molasses.

"i was… asleep?"

"more like unconscious," he corrects, his thumb brushing absently against your knuckles. "the doctors said it wasn’t too dangerous, but—"

he stops. shakes his head.

"it felt dangerous to me."

your chest tightens.

his fingers curl around yours, firmer now, as if testing to make sure you are real.

"you wouldn’t wake up," he murmurs, voice quieter now. "no matter how much i talked to you, no matter how much i—" he exhales, shaking his head. "i thought—"

he stops himself.

his jaw clenches.

you squeeze his hand.

his gaze snaps to yours immediately, like the smallest movement from you is something monumental.

you clear your throat, trying to fight past the dryness, past the exhaustion clinging to your bones. "i’m here."

it’s not much.

but it is enough.

chan swallows hard, his lips pressing together, and for the first time, you see it. the glassiness in his eyes, the way his breath shudders, the way relief sits so heavy on his shoulders it almost looks like it might break him.

"yeah," he exhales. "yeah, you are."

the tension in the room softens. the air shifts.

you watch as he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing the lightest kiss against the back of it.

his eyes shut for a moment, like he is trying to ground himself in the sensation.

when he opens them again, there is something softer there.

"don’t scare me like that again, yeah?"

his voice is steady, but you can hear the emotion beneath it.

you give the faintest nod, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"i’ll try."

it’s the best you can offer.

and for now—

it is enough.

the moment chan’s hand was gently pried away from yours, a chill settled over your skin, one that had nothing to do with the temperature of the hospital room. his warmth had been the only thing tethering you to something familiar, something steady. but now—now it was gone.

"mr. bahng, we need you to wait outside while we check on her," one of the nurses had told him. a request, but also not.

you had seen the hesitation in his eyes, the reluctance, the way his fingers had twitched as if they didn't want to let go. but he listened. because it was for you. because it was what was needed.

now, the door clicked shut behind him, and the room felt bigger. louder, with the beeping of the monitors, the shuffle of nurses moving around you, the crinkle of gloves being pulled on.

“alright, sweetheart, we’re just going to do a quick check-up, alright?” the nurse closest to you—an older woman with kind eyes and soft hands—offered you a reassuring smile as she reached for your wrist, checking your pulse. “you’ve been through quite a bit, so let us know if anything feels off.”

you swallowed, throat still dry, but nodded.

the world still felt slow, like you were wading through water. the dull ache in your limbs, the stiffness of your joints—it was a strange thing, waking up in a body that had been still for so long.

someone else adjusted the iv drip beside you, and you felt the cool trickle of medicine entering your veins.

“you were lucky, you know.” the nurse’s voice was light, almost teasing. “your injuries could have been a lot worse.”

your injuries.

the words settled over you like a distant echo. you had almost forgotten.

“what.. what else happened?” your voice was rough, barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of something fragile.

the nurses exchanged a glance. then, the older woman—the one who had spoken first—tilted her head slightly. “do you remember anything?”

your brows furrowed, but you managed a light nod.

the memory was there, hazy and fractured, like a dream slipping through your fingers the harder you tried to hold onto it.

the road.

the red light.

the blur of headlights.

the sound—

your stomach twisted.

“i—” you swallowed hard. “a car accident.”

the nurse nodded. “yes. you were brought in unconscious. you woke up for a few minutes, you remember any of that? some injuries—nothing too major, but enough to keep you out for a few days.”

a few days.

that still didn’t feel real.

you exhaled shakily, trying to absorb the information, but your mind felt slow, reluctant to process everything all at once.

the nurse squeezed your hand gently. “you’re going to be okay, sweetheart. you just need some time to heal.”

there was a soft rustling as another nurse adjusted the pillows behind you, shifting your body slightly so you were more upright. the change in position sent a wave of dizziness through you, but you didn’t protest.

a few more checks—light in your eyes, testing reflexes, changing out bandages. you winced when they cleaned one of the scrapes along your arm, but the nurse was quick to murmur a gentle, “i know, sweetheart, almost done.”

then, just as she was finishing up, her voice took on a different note.

“your boyfriend, by the way,” she said casually, as if the words weren’t about to send your heart into a spiral, “has been coming in every day since we called him.”

you froze.

the nurse didn’t seem to notice. she kept adjusting the blankets around you, her tone light. “your emergency contact, right? he looked ready to drop everything the second we rang him.”

your lips parted, but you didn’t know what to say.

boyfriend?

boyfriend.

your thoughts fumbled over the word.

the nurse chuckled softly. “oh, don’t look so surprised, sweetheart. it was obvious. the way he was hovering over you, holding your hand like he was afraid to let go? if that’s not love, i don’t know what is.”

your heart did something strange in your chest. a slow, twisting motion that left warmth blooming in its wake.

“he’s been here every single day,” she continued. “for hours. sometimes the whole day. we had to practically force him to go home and rest.”

your fingers curled slightly against the sheets.

“he talks to you, too,” she added with a small smile. “like you could hear him. maybe you could, who knows?”

you swallowed, trying to ignore the way your throat suddenly felt tight.

“he would just sit here, holding your hand, telling you about his day. about how the weather was. about how your friends were worried about you.”

the warmth in your chest grew.

“he even told you stories,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “little things. things that probably wouldn’t matter to anyone else, but he told you anyway. like you were just asleep and he was waiting for you to wake up and respond.”

something swelled in your throat.

you hadn’t been aware.

you had been floating in that quiet, in that darkness, not knowing that he had been right there.

“i think,” the nurse said after a pause, a small knowing smile tugging at her lips, “he really, really cares about you.”

your breath hitched.

the words settled deep into your bones, warming the spaces you hadn’t realized were cold.

chan had been here. everyday.

talking to you.

waiting for you.

your fingers brushed over the blanket absently, heart thrumming in your chest.

the nurse gave your hand a final squeeze before stepping back, gathering the used bandages and tools into a tray. “alright, sweetheart, we’re done here for now.”

another nurse adjusted your iv, and the beeping of the monitor remained steady, rhythmic, like a quiet reassurance.

“we’ll let your boyfriend back in now,” the older nurse teased lightly. “poor thing’s probably pacing a hole into the floor out there.”

you huffed a soft, breathy laugh, shaking your head slightly.

and then, the door opened.

and chan stepped in.

the door clicked shut behind him, but you barely noticed.

he stood just a few steps inside the hospital room, his breath caught somewhere in his chest, eyes searching yours like he needed proof—proof that you were really awake, that you were really, fully, looking at him.

you blinked at him, your throat tight, your fingers curling against the thin hospital blanket.

there was something about him. something different.

the exhaustion was written all over his face—his skin paler than usual, dark shadows pooled beneath his eyes, his shoulders slouched in a way that didn’t belong to him. his curls were disheveled, as if he had run his fingers through them too many times.

but it wasn’t just the fatigue. it was something deeper. a hesitation in the way he stood, a carefulness in his every breath, like he was afraid to move too quickly, afraid to shatter the fragile moment between you.

afraid you’d send him away.

a lump formed in your throat.

“you stayed,” you whispered.

his breath trembled as he exhaled, and then—then he was moving.

not rushing, not lunging, but stepping forward, crossing the space between you with a quiet desperation.

the chair beside your bed scraped slightly against the floor as he sank into it. his hands, shaking just barely, hovered over yours before he swallowed and finally—finally—took your fingers in his.

a choked, breathy laugh left him, something wet and exhausted and disbelieving all at once.

“of course i stayed,” he murmured.

you let out a shaky exhale, glancing down at his hands. he was warm, solid, real.

but then, something flickered over his face. his brows pulled together, his jaw tightening.

“i—” he sucked in a breath, struggling for words, his grip on your fingers tightening just slightly.

you knew that look.

he was overthinking.

regret, guilt, pain—all of it flickered in the depths of his tired brown eyes.

“i—” he tried again, then exhaled sharply. “i’m so, fucking sorry.”

your lips parted.

“for everything,” he continued, voice thick. “for the argument, for—” his voice cracked. “for not talking to you. for letting my frustration—” he broke off again, shaking his head, his fingers tightening around yours. “i should have—should have been better.”

you swallowed.

your vision blurred, the weight of everything pressing into you.

you had both been hurting. both been so lost in your own emotions, in your own pain, that you had pushed each other away.

and now—now he was here. holding your hands like they were something precious, like he had been waiting for this moment for far too long.

tears welled in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks before you could stop them.

“chris,” you whispered, shaking your head, your own fingers tightening around his.

his gaze snapped up to yours, as if the sound of his name was something he had been waiting to hear.

you swallowed, blinking through the blur of your tears.

“i’m sorry, too,” you murmured.

his lips parted, something raw and vulnerable flashing across his face.

“i—” your breath hitched. “i shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have let my frustration get the best of me either.” you shook your head, swallowing hard. “i should have—should have listened more, should have—” your voice cracked. “i missed you.”

a sharp breath left him.

“you don't need to apologise. it's none of your fault, all mine, love. i missed you too,” he whispered.

and then—then he was leaning forward, pressing his forehead gently against yours.

you closed your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of him—the faint traces of cologne, the warmth of something undeniably him.

his breath trembled against your skin.

“i thought—” his voice was barely above a whisper. “i thought i lost you.”

your heart clenched.

you shifted slightly, letting go of one of his hands so you could cup his face instead. your thumb brushed over his cheek, over the warmth of his skin.

his breath hitched, and then—then his own hand covered yours, holding it against his face, as if grounding himself in the feeling of you.

you swallowed, blinking rapidly against the tears in your eyes.

“i love you,” you whispered.

his breath stuttered.

then, before you could even fully process it, his arms were wrapping around you, pulling you into him, holding you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

you buried your face into his shoulder, your fingers clinging to the fabric of his hoodie, the warmth of him settling deep into your bones.

neither of you spoke for a moment.

just breathing. just existing.

just feeling the weight of everything that had been broken and the quiet, fragile way it was coming back together.

then—his voice.

soft. shaky.

“thank you for forgiving me.”

you swallowed.

his fingers curled around the back of your hospital gown, his forehead pressing against the side of your head.

“i’ll make up for it every day,” he murmured.

your breath hitched.

you pulled back just slightly, just enough to see his face, and then—then you cupped his cheeks again, tilting his head down slightly as you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead.

he let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut, hands still clutching at you.

your thumb brushed over his cheek again.

“just stay,” you whispered.

his lips parted.

then, slowly, he nodded.

and as he pulled you back into his arms, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, to the crown of your head—

you knew.

you knew that, no matter how broken things had felt, no matter how lost you had both been—

you had found your way back to each other.

and that—

that was enough.

“i love you so, so, much more, sunshine.”

now playing . . . don't leave me, my love by colde

please don't leave my side, i hate nights without you.your heart cannot be changed. what am I going to do again now?

제발, 내 곁에서 떠나가지 말아요, 그대 없는 밤은 너무 싫어. 돌이킬 수 없는 그대 마음. 이제 와서 다시 어쩌려나?

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[mattsbrowser]

Daddy's Money

olderbf!matt x doll!reader

| warnings: fluff, kissing

Shopping. is one of your favorite things, you even go as far as to call it a hobby. Many would say addiction but, a hobby sounds better. Growing up you always loved shopping, or even spending money. It could be random things or stuff you actually needed. Luckily for you, Matt always loved making his little doll happy.

''Matt'' you slightly whisper, creaking the bedroom door open as you hear him on the phone to someone. you hear him yell, ''No, Chris I told you I can't today-- fuck--- god'' he sighs, wiping his face with his hand. your petite frame slips past the door, tip-toeing into the room. Matt sighs before turning around, his face dropping all the aggression when his eyes lock with yours.

Matt walks towards you, everything Chris is yapping about in his ear has gone out the window. his palm presses against your cheek as his thumb caresses it. he gives you a soft smile as you lean into his touch, wrapping your hand around his wrist, reciprocating the soft smile. ''Chris I'll-- I'll call you back, k bye'' he says softly, hanging up and placing his phone in his back pocket.

''hi baby'' he whispers, gently cupping your face with both hands. you wrap your hands around each of his wrists, ''hi matty'' you smile. ''is everything okay?'' he asks, faint concern on his face. you pout and slightly shake your head batting your eyelashes up at him. he cocks his head to the side, ''no'' you whisper. Matt's expression changes to sadness, ''what's the matter, who hurt my little doll''

he asks. you look down at the floor before your eyes meet his again. ''I was doing my laundry, and I accidentally ruined my lace set'' You deepen the pout. Matt gives you a sympathetic look, ''Oh baby, the one I love so much?'' you nod in response and he tuts his tongue, ''Can we go shopping?'' you bat your lashes again. ''oh, of course, we can sweet thing, I don't want my baby sad now do I?'' you shake your head in response. ''let's go then' he drops his hands and gives your ass a light slap as you giggle merely skipping out the door.

You arrive at the mall, eagerly jumping out of the car as soon as Matt parks. He lets out a chuckle, emerging from the car after you. You make a beeline to your favorite store, Victoria's Secret, your excitement bubbling as you lock eyes with the lace sets they have in the display window, your eyes beaming with light. Matt trails behind you letting out chuckles to himself at your excitement.

As you enter the store, the very familiar scent of different perfumes fills your nose, and you're instantly drawn to the racks of delicate lace and satin sets, Matt eventually catching up to you when you stop. You stand in silence and awe scanning through the selection to find the perfect one. Matt stays nearby watching you flick through each one. After a while, you finally find a perfect, soft blush pink set. You take it off the rack and hold it up with a slight gasp. Matt tucks his phone in his back pocket, looking up at you.

''It's-- perfect,'' you whisper out, Matt moving closer to you. He sucks in a sharp breath scanning the article of clothing. ''What d'you think?'' you ask, turning to Matt and holding it against you. He pauses, looking at it once again, intently, before looking at you, your lip in between your top teeth with nerves. ''it's--- it's beautiful,'' he finally speaks. ''Are you sure? because they have it in a baby bl--'' Matt cuts you off with a finger to your lips. ''It's perfect baby, perfect,'' he objectifies. You give him a soft smile and look at the clothing again with a nod, ''Isn't it, I love it!'' you exclaim, clutching it to your chest.

Matt returns the smile whilst pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. He takes out his credit card, handing it to you. You smile, blowing him an air kiss before turning to go to the checkout, Matt grabs your arm to stop you. You give him a confused look, seeing the smirk on his face. He leans down to whisper in your ear, ''Is that all you're getting?'' he asks, ''Y-yeah,'' you reply, still confused. He tuts his tongue, shaking his head, ''Go get a few more of them and that perfume you love so much,'' he says, you smile again with a nod, ''Okay! thank you, Matty,'' he leans in once again, ''Go put daddy's money to good use, hmm?'' his breath warm against your ear, you shiver before he kisses your neck and pulls away, giving you a wink.

thank god you got new underwear because Matt left you soaked walking to the counter.

and he knew that.

tags: @pvssychicken @idontcare4urmom @summerchris @kaisturni @trevorsgodmother @slutt4matt @pearlzier @sturniolosiphone @dirtylittleheart333 @chaossturns @banqnakilp @sturnsmadl @aniesvision @lianaloverr @chriss-slut @obsidianbaby @sturniologals @l34n @likeumeanit9497 @teddybearbad @iluvmattsbeard @miss-sturn @kiibichio @meerkatzthings @mattscoquette @pkfferoo @slxt4chriss @mqttittude @fratbrochrisgf @sofieeeeex-blog @watercolorskyy @ifwdominicfike @luvs4matt @esioleren @angelic-l0ver @blahbel668 @mattsturnswife @conspiracy-ash @chriseatingmeoutin4k @chrissypoosworld @izusbae @stvrnmc @sophand4n4 @matts-myloverboy @zayluvss @ivysturnss @mattsfavoritestar @emely9274 @courta13

[goldfishontheceiling]

GIVE IT TO HIM

HE WILL CHERISH IT

(i brainrotted so hard in the tags that tumblr just refused to process it so i had to cut the tags down by a lot)

give him one million dollars on a platter right now do it do it now

[iluvmattsbeard]

older (m.s)

master list

student! matt sturniolo x professor! reader

warnings: HEAVY smut/oral (female receiving)/fingering/p in v/creampie/swearing

preview: 18 year old student Matt is a freshman in college. you are his professor who is 28 years old. Matt is a phenomenal student. but during lectures, he can’t help but check out his professor, fantasizing about you. you tell him it’s unprofessional for you to pay more attention to him than any other student. you also tells him you're too old for him which, he tries to prove to you you're wrong.

*not proof read*

a/n: i’m doing a collab with @mwahsturns ! go check out her version of Matt being the professor, click here ,this is my version of the reader being professor! i’m so glad I had the opportunity of working with her. she is lovely and absolutely amazing overall. i hope to do this again. if anyone would also like to collab with me in the future, let me know!

even though Matt was pursuing his YouTube career with his brothers, Matt wanted to do something on his own. in videos, he is known to spread light on mental health and anxiety. as he did some research, he found a community college that fit his standards. he wanted to major in psychology and hopefully see where it takes him. his brothers supported his decision and he couldn't be anymore excited. he enrolled himself and got in immediately. today was his first day and he was currently packing his back pack. "are you sure you'll be able to handle all of this?" his brother Nick asks. Matt was in the middle of shoving his books in his bag, "yes Nick. i'll be okay. i'm just going to see if this is right for me. if it's not, then i'll stick to YouTube." he responds while zipping up the bag in front of him.

"okay I was just making sure." Nick says getting up from the bar stool in the kitchen. "alright, i'm all set. i'll see you guys later." Matt says putting on the back pack and picking up his car keys. Chris and Nick both say good bye to him and he walks out, heading to his car. as soon as he put the address in his navigation, he noticed the estimated arrival time and muttered under his breath, "fuck." it was not going to be a good first impression he thought. when he finally got on campus, he headed straight to his class. he got to the door and opened it, walking inside to see all the students turn and look at him. "you're late." he hears a woman say. he turns to look at you. you had your back facing towards the class as you wrote something on the whiteboard.

you turn around and he locks eyes with yours. "what's your name?" you ask walking over to your desk. "Matthew." he says eyeing you. "okay Matthew, you may take a seat. I'll let it slide since it's your first day." you respond looking up from your computer to catch his stare. Matt nods and walks to an empty seat. he didn't expect his professor to look the way you did. he looked at the board to see your name. "miss L/n..." he whispers to himself. Matt kept his eyes on you as you spoke, "Matthew, you can ask the person next to you to copy their notes that I previously had up. go over it and try to catch up okay?" Matt nods and does as you say. as he took notes, he couldn't help but get distracted by the professor. your white button up shirt with your hair both placed in front of your shoulders, your long black pencil skirt, stockings, and black heels. he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

as time went by, Matt was always on top of his work. his focus was always there in lectures. he didn't really find the subject of the class all that interesting but, his professor was all he cared about. he wanted to stand out and to do so, he needed to focus on what you were teaching about so he could stay on top. Matt was never good in school but, this was different. after one of the lectures, he decided to stick around as other students left. "is there something you need Matthew?" you ask looking up at him. he was still sat in his seat as he clears his throat, "i'm having a little trouble accessing some material at home." he says lying. "let me take a look." you suggest to him. he gets up and walks over to you with his laptop. "you can call me Matt by the way." he adds on as he places the laptop in front of you. you smile a bit, "good to know." you respond and looks at his screen.

you began to open up the material that he claimed wasn't working. you look at him, "are you sure it wasn't working at home?" you ask. "it wasn't last night. I guess you have the magic touch." he says causing you to laugh, "I guess so. anything else you need help with?" you ask. he shakes his head, "not that I know of." he says taking his laptop off the desk. he starts to walk away but you call out to him, "wait Matt." he turns around and looks at you, "yes?" he asks. you stand up from your chair and smile, "I just want to tell you i'm highly impressed by your work. every single assignment you turn in, is beyond what I ask for." you complimented him. Matt grins before speaking, "I am being taught well." you laugh, "thank you. that just means i'm doing my job." you say clasping your hands together in front of you.

as more lectures go by, he couldn't help but start to fantasize about you. he started to imagine how he would look impressing you with something else he's good at beyond his assignments. the way you spoke, he could just imagine the way you would whisper in his ear. Matt would eye your buttoned shirt and imagine how he would undo it. his thoughts were soon interrupted by the professor clearing your throat, "Matt?" you call out. he gulps and looks up at your eyes instead of your blouse, "make sure you're paying attention." you say tapping on his desk before walking away. after class, you ask him to stick around. "are you okay?" you question him. he was sat across from you, "yes i'm fine. why?" he asks. you laugh a bit, "I could tell your mind was wondering off somewhere else. I just wanted to know if something was bothering you." you say as he stares at you. "oh yeah, i'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to." he responds.

"that's okay, just let me know what's on your mind next time." she suggests. Matt nods and it stays quiet for a bit. "how'd you get into teaching?" he asks breaking the silence. "it's a long story." you say laughing a bit. he has this blank face as he speaks, "I have time." your smile fades a bit as you let out a little breath, "well, it wasn't my first choice. I wanted to pursue in something more creative but to my parents it was more of a dream than a reality. I decided to get into education and well here I am." you continued to ramble but he catches you off guard with his next question, "what's your name?" you look at him, "that's a sudden question. my name is Y/n but don't get use to that." you say. "how old are you, Y/n?" he asks curiously and boldly. "none of your business." you respond as he grins, "i'm just trying to get to know you." you hesitate but eventually tell him, "i'm 28." you mutter out.

"are you married?" he asks making your eyes widen a bit, "no but, that's a very personal question. this is starting to get inappropriate." you say getting up from your chair. Matt gets up as well, "it's inappropriate to try to get to know you?" he asks. you turn to look at him, "it's inappropriate because i'm your teacher. i'm not somebody you need to know better." you respond. he puts on his back pack and smiles, "only innocent." he says walking out the classroom leaving you standing there alone.

a few days later, you were at your desk grading assignments as you notice Matt's work getting sloppy. you ask him to stay after class and he does so. it was all apart of his plan. "Matt, your recent assignments have been painfully hard to grade. you were doing good not too long ago, why are you being lazy with your work?" you ask in a serious tone. "i'm not quite sure. why don't you want me to get to know you?" he asks catching you off guard. "Matthew, we're talking about your work here." you say wanting to stick to the serious conversation. "are you scared Y/n?" he asks making you fix your posture, "it's miss L/n to you." you remind him. "answer my question. are you scared you might enjoy talking to me?" he says. "it's inappropriate." you say repeating yourself from last time. "is it inappropriate to ask what you like to drink?" he asks tilting his head a bit with a small smile.

"mainly iced coffee." you answer hoping to move on from the conversation, "now can we talk about your work?" you ask hoping he would cooperate but, he gets up and puts on his back pack, "i'll fix it." he says before walking out leaving you once again, in shock. you sat there wondering why he was acting the way he was.

the next day, you had your back facing the class as you wrote a check list on the board. as soon as you turned around, you do a double take of the iced coffee that was placed on your desk. you look up from it, eyeing Matt as he just grins and looks away to unzip his bag. unbelievable you thought. after the lecture, you ask him stick around as everyone else leaves. "Matt, don't start this." you say sternly. "what? I can't get you coffee for being a good teacher?" he says with a sly smile. you sigh, "that's nice of you but I know what you're doing." you say with your arms crossed. "what am I doing?" he asks not taking his eyes off of you. "you're trying to flatter me." you mutter out. he laughs and puts on his back pack. he looks at you up and down and greets you good bye as he walks out. "what are you up to..." you whisper to yourself.

when Matt arrived home, he began to do his assignments. "how has school been?" Chris asks before taking a sip of his Pepsi. Matt's eyes stayed on his computer, "not much to talk about." he says. Chris rolls his eyes a bit, "nice talking to you." he says. "there is this girl." Matt lets out. "who?" Chris asks now very interested. Matt looks at him, "none of your business." he laughs to himself as he remembers you telling him that. "then why bring it up?" Chris says with a blank face. Matt just laughs again and shakes his head.

the next few days, you start to notice Matt's work going back to being astounding. how is that possible? how did he do it so quickly? Matt continued to get you iced coffee every day. other students were starting to notice. as you sat there, you continue to look at Matt's work and you started to put the pieces together. the coffee, the inappropriate behavior, and he was purposely being sloppy before. you shut your computer as you look at him already staring at you. you felt a sort of shiver go down your spine as this look was different. his eyes were captivating in a way that made you feel disappointed in yourself for even thinking that. you look away and begin your lecture. after, you ask Matt to stick around once more.

"were you being sloppy on purpose?" you ask standing in front of his desk. "maybe." he responds with the same sly smile like always. you let out a sigh, "Matt, why are you doing this?" you ask. "doing what?" he asks trying to be innocent. you turn around and pick up the iced coffee on your desk, "the coffee every day, you wanting to get to know me, asking personal questions, and now I realize you were purposely trying to stay after class." you let out making him lean back in his seat. "and the question you asked the other day. if I was scared that i'll enjoy talking to you? seriously?" you add on.

he looks down and shakes his head with a smile. "what is so funny?" you question with your arms crossed. he looks back up at you, "do you really want to know?" he says. "yes I do." you respond waiting for him to explain. he sits up a bit as he places his arms on the desk, "I think about you constantly." he pauses for a bit, "do you think I wanted to fantasize about my professor?" he asks. you uncross your arms and gulp, "no one asked you to." you say. he laughs a bit, "yeah well I do. you make it hard for me to focus." he says making you look away, "then maybe you should transfer into a different class Matt." you suggest.

"are you sure you want that?" he says making you look at him. it stays quiet for bit as you both locked eyes. you look away quickly and turn around, "I can't do this." you say walking up to your desk. Matt gets up and walks behind you. you stop in front of your desk, placing your hands onto it. Matt gets closer behind you as he presses up against you slightly. you look ahead of you as you felt his presence. Matt moves your hair away by tucking it behind your ear as he gets closer to your ear. you gulp as you stand still, "are you sure you want me gone from your class Miss L/n?" he whispers in your ear. you felt a shiver roll down your spine, "i'm too old for you Matt." you whisper still looking ahead of you. "I'm of age you know." he lets out. "i'm still 10 years older than you..." you reply but he just continues, "just because I'm young, doesn't mean I don't know how to handle you." you let out a breath as he starts to run his hands on your waist, down to your hips.

"i'm your professor Matt..." you whisper. he smirks, "I know. but I can also teach you things." he says turning you around. he steps closer as you lean a bit against the desk, "like what?" you ask looking into his eyes. he picks you up by your waist as he places you on the desk. he was now standing in between your legs as he looks down at you, "I can teach you what it's like to feel good." he whispers. you gulp without breaking eye contact, "Matt..." you whisper back. he places his hands on your face as he pulls you in slowly, closer to his face. your lips were nearly touching, "tell me, do you want that?" he asks. you were filled with mixed emotions. the way you two were, if someone walked in, it would've been obvious what's about to happen. Matt rubs your cheek softly, "use your words." he says in a low tone. his words became more demanding as his eyes grew dark. "teach me then..." you whisper out. he immediately presses his hungry lips onto yours as he kept his hands on your face. your hands were placed on the desk as you leaned into the kiss.

you knew this was wrong but, it felt so right. Matt moves his hands down to your thighs as he places a good grip on them. he pulls you closer, making his grown erection touch your core. you moan out quietly from the sudden action as he then starts to unbutton your shirt slowly as he continues to kiss you with the same eagerness. you buck your hips a bit against his clothed cock as he finally got your shirt to come undone. he then pulls it open, moving it behind your shoulders. now you were mostly revealed at top as your blouse was low on your elbows.

he moves his lips to your neck as he places wet kisses, he begins to suck your skin as he finds your sweet spot, causing you to throw your head back a bit as your eyes went shut. Matt then moves away and looks down at your skirt. he pulls it up slowly, revealing your black lace panties. he begins to kneel down as he pulls them down. you look down at him as he makes eye contact with your wetness. "already so wet for me." he says before moving his head closer in between your legs. he spreads your legs apart slightly as he started to work his way to lick your folds.

your breathing started to go uneven as you let out a breath. he began to tongue the inside of your entrance as you kept your eyes on him. you ran your hand through his hair as you moan quietly. you don't remember the last time someone pleased you. he starts to run his tongue up and down your entrance as your eyebrows furrowed, making your mouth open slightly. the mixture of the wetness of his tongue and your natural wetness was driving you crazy. his tongue worked like magic. he then began to flick his tongue onto your clit as he stuck two digits into your core. you moan from the stimulation as your thighs started to close in. Matt looks up at you as he watches your face change from the way he was moving. his fingers started to go in and out of you as he then started to swirl his tongue around your throbbing clit.

you grip his hair even more as you kept eye contact with him. he was loving the view he had. the way your mouth kept letting out beautiful noises, he knew he was living up to his words. you buck your hips, wanting more from him. he removes his fingers from inside of you and pulls away. he stands back up and licks his lips. "you seemed to enjoy that." he says. "you're looking like you don't mind anymore miss L/n." he lets out as he starts to unbutton his pants. you look at his crotch as he pulls down his pants with his boxers. you felt yourself in between your legs ache. you needed him badly. he strokes his cock as he makes you look at him in the eyes, "do you still think you're too old for me?" he asks, "look how hard you made me." he adds on.

he then grabs you under your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he rubs his tip at your entrance. "M-Matt..." you whine out. "if only you could look at yourself right now. not so inappropriate now huh?" he says with a grin. he then pushes himself into you as you throw your head back from the way he began to stretch you out, "fuck." Matt moans out lowly. you moan at the way he started to thrust slowly. you didn't know if you could take all of him but, he made sure you did. he starts to thrust harder into you as he pushes himself deeper into you. you wrap your legs around him as you pull him into a kiss. he kisses back as he now starts to pound into you. this made you moan in between kisses. your one hand rested around his neck as the other gripped behind his hair.

"keep it down." he says while going back to kiss you, muffling your moans. you shut your eyes as you melt under him. he loved the way he was stuffing you right now. he was finally fulfilling his imagination. you started to push against his thrusts as he gripped your thighs. his thrusts were deep, making your eyes fog up. you didn't know it was possible to feel this good. especially, from your student. he pulls away from the kiss, biting your lip softly. he pushes you down onto the desk, causing some stuff to fall off. he puts your legs together as he continues to thrust at a fast pace. you cover your mouth as you moan into your hands. the position he had you in hurt so good. "fuck i'm going to cum." he groans. "m-me too." you moan out. he spreads your legs and places his thumb on your clit as he started to rub in circles. you were a moaning mess as you gripped onto the edge of the desk.

Matt then releases in you after one last hard thrust. you both cum at the same time. he thrusts out his high as he pulls out of you slowly, watching his cum drip out of you. he grins feeling accomplished. you sat up on the desk as you caught up with your breathing. Matt pulls up his boxers and pants, buttoning it back up. he grabs his back pack and puts it on. he looks at you still on the desk as he smiles, "i'll keep this a secret." he says before walking out.

a/n: turned myself on 💀 LIKES, COMMENTS, REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[issysh3ll]

Fumble ☆ Chris Sturniolo

Part 4

This is part of a series. Find all previous parts -> here Summary: Chris has fumbled his before, will he do it again? Warnings: this series contains smut & angst & mature themes Wordcount: 693

"Fuck."

With his forehead pressed to yours, his hands lingering on the small of your back and his chest heaving with breathless pants, Chris feels alive. The anticipation that had been building up for weeks had lead to something even better than he had imagined. The moment your lips had brushed against his all his fantasies about had paled in comparison to the reality of your kisses, the way your tongue danced with his in his mouth had made all his dreams seem so boring.

The entryway of where you stand pressed together feels much more awake than the rest of the house. Early morning light filtering in softly through the cracks of the front door casts you in a hazy glow. A comforting silence fills the halls as the other two boys lay asleep, blissfully unaware of the dizzying state their brother has found himself in.

Soft panting from both of you is the only sound to break the silence, though Chris's thoughts are loud. His mind is still reeling from the trance the kiss had him under. Remembering your teasing words from before the kiss, Chris’s chest swells - that must be a good enough reason for her to stay… right?

A tingling heat pumps throughout his body with his erratic heartbeat, his head spinning. His eyes hang low, hooded with his pleasure fuelled daze as he watches you catch your breath. Your lips are swollen and pink, hanging parted as your heavy breaths pull between them. The sight alone is enough for Chris to want more. But when your eyes slowly flutter open and your gaze locks with his, he is frozen.

His chest leaps, his brain short circuiting as your blissful eyes peer up at him through your lashes. Willing his body to move, his mouth to speak, proves futile as he stands frozen in front of you. All traces of confidence he had mustered up to get himself to this point are now gone, seemingly stolen by the flicker of desire hidden behind your eyes.

Desire. Is that what it is?

Thoughts are frantically spinning through Chris with all the possibilities of what that slight glint in your eyes might mean. The slow blink of your eyelids as you stare up at him, the subtle pull of your bottom lip between your teeth, what does it mean?

The only response his body can muster up through his haze is a burning blush, rising, spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. His whole body feels hot under your stare and when you blink again his movement finally returns, dropping his hands from your waist and stepping back as if trying to escape the spell you just had him under.

With even just a few more inches of space between you, the fog clouding Chris’s mind begins to clear. His body is able to respond to him again, carefully lifting his fingers to his lips. Even with the haze lifting, the sweet feel of you still rests on his lips.

A tantalising giggle leaves your lips as you watch him curiously. Raising one eyebrow, you step forward again and his breath hitches in his throat, craving more. But then your arm reaches past him, twisting the door handle next to him and pulling the front door open.

His mind screams - she’s leaving, fuck.

"Bye, Chris." You smile as he watches you step through the opening.

Chris tries to call after you, opening his mouth to call out wait! but once again, nothing comes out. Instead he is left in the entryway, alone, as the door slowly creaks closed again.

Was it not enough reason for her to stay?

As you disappear from sight and control returns to his body again, Chris finds himself tracing his fingers over his bottom lip softly, just as your tongue had done only moments ago. The easy reminder causes a tingle to run along his lips and through his body, making him shiver before the realisation dawns on him.

He’s fumbled his chance again.

A quiet, pained groan chokes from Chris’s chest and he kicks at the ground in frustration,

“Fuuck”

This is a continuation of a series. Find previous parts here

[worldlxvlys]

can we PLEASE get a part 2 to obessed

obsessed (part 2)

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, grinding, fingering, degradation

a/n: bye why am i insane 😭

previous part

she’s driving me crazy.

i told her she could sleep here, not wanting her to leave.

i gave her one of my t-shirts to sleep in, which fit her like a dress.

she opted not to wear any pants, the shirt covering her sufficiently.

when she walked back into my room in the shirt, it took everything for me not to pull her onto my face and tell her to ride it.

she bent over to look through her bag for something, making my eyes widen.

my mouth hung open as the curve of her ass cheek and the string of her panties came into view.

yeah, the string. she was wearing a thong, if you could even call it that.

i let out a groan at the sight, quickly covering it up with a fake cough.

“you good?” she asked as she retrieved what she needed and made her way over to me.

“um, yeah” i cleared my throat, adjusting my boxers to hide my growing bulge.

she raised her arms, stretching them before climbing onto the bed.

the action caused the shirt to ride up her thighs, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the newly exposed skin.

she has to know what she’s doing.

before i could stop myself, i grabbed her waist and pulled her onto my lap.

“chris” she yelped out in surprise as my clothed dick rubbed against her poorly-covered pussy.

her eyes widened in shock, but she immediately moved her hips against my lap.

realizing what i had done, i quickly spoke, “fuck, i’m sorry i-” i cut myself off when she grabbed my hands and placed them under her shirt, onto her bare ass.

“don’t apologize, you shouldn’t have started something you couldn’t finish” she spoke firmly as her hips rolled into mine quickly.

“tell me, chris. do you always sleep in just your boxers? or did you just feel like being a little slut cause i’m here?” she asked, her hands running down my chest.

her words alone pushed me to the edge, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

my hips shook underneath her, a wet spot forming on my boxers.

it was embarrassing how quickly i finished, but i couldn’t help it.

the way she spoke down to me and took complete control sent me into a frenzy.

she seems so innocent and sweet, but in bed ? she’s a completely different person. it excited me to know that nobody else got to see this side of her.

“did you just finish, baby?” she asked as she leaned forward, nipping my earlobe.

i nodded my head quickly, my mouth hanging open.

“so fast, do you like seeing me like this?” she asked as she continued to grind herself on my overstimulated dick.

“fuck yes” i whimpered out, my brows furrowing.

her head fell back as she brought her hands under her shirt, playing with her boobs.

she was giving me everything and nothing at the same time. the way she managed to pleasure us both without taking off any clothes was driving me insane.

i wanted to watch her tits jiggle while she used me to get herself off.

i wanted to see the arousal that covered her pussy drip onto my boxers. i’m sure she knew that, she was teasing me on purpose.

“hmmm, i’m so close chris” she moaned out.

i gripped her plump ass firmly, squeezing it as i pushed her to move faster against me.

she reached for one of my hands, moving it under her shirt and placing it on her clit.

“ohhhh my fuck” i moaned as i felt her slick coat my hand.

she rocked her hips against my hand, desperately chasing her high.

not able to help myself, i slid my finger down to her entrance, pushing it inside.

“fuck, chris! oh my god!” she squealed as her head fell onto my shoulder.

i needed to know what it felt like to have her velvety walls squeeze me.

me eyes rolled back when she clenched around my finger, my mind being corrupted with thoughts of what it would feel like if my cock was inside of her instead.

“chris i’m so close, don’t fucking stop” she whined out, her face scrunching up in pleasure.

i curled my finger inside of her, brushing the spongy tissue of her g-spot.

she dug her nails into my back, dragging them down as i continued to fuck her with my fingers.

suddenly, she began to shake on top of me as she cried out. she released on my fingers as i worked her through her orgasm.

she let out a shakey breath when i pulled my finger out of her as her body relaxed into mine.

the remnants of her last orgasm coated my boxers, making me let out a quiet moan at the feeling.

without hesitation, she swiped her fingers against my boxers, making me shudder as she collected her arousal on her fingers.

“taste” she said before putting her fingers in my mouth.

i eagerly swirled my tongue around her fingers, collecting every drop of her essence off of them.

she moved her fingers out of my mouth, staring at me with her mouth slightly open.

“more” i spoke, watching as her eyes widened slightly.

she kept eye contact with me, moving her face towards my crotch.

my breath hitched as she ran her tongue along my boxers, licking up the rest of her slick.

she brought her mouth back up to my face, and crashed her lips into mine.

i moaned into the kiss as her tongue danced along mine, letting me taste her.

her hands found their way to my hair, her nails scratching my scalp.

my hands found their way under her shirt, gliding over her chest and stomach.

when we pulled away, she bit my lip slightly, eliciting a deep groan from me.

we stared at each other, mouths open and eyes wide as we took in each others fucked out appearances.

her hair was a mess, eyelids drooping slightly and lips swollen.

“well this is fucked” i breathed out, not even thinking before i started talking.

“what? why?” she asked.

“i don’t know if i can just pretend that this didn’t happen” i said.

“who said we were pretending like this didn’t happen?” she asked as her hand went down to my boxers.

she pulled on the waistband, letting it snap back against my skin, making me groan out.

“trust me, baby. when i’m done with you, you won’t be able to forget about this”

🌷🌷🌷🌷

masterlist

tag list: : @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @heraakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[chrissv4mp]

౨ৎ YOU DON'T REMEMBER CALLING OUT FOR ME?

★ sum: after a bad breakup with matt, you storm out of his party and get in the car. matt follows after you, and he regrets everything he said when he sees it happen.

☆ pair: matt sturniolo × fem!reader

★ tws: cursing, arguments, crying, driving under the influence kinda, car crashes, slight blood, mentions of amnesia (the loss of memories, facts, information, and experiences.)

☆ a/n: don't check my airbuds history.....

★ a/n 2: also really hoping to make a part 2 for this, but i need a few opinions

★ wc: 3.3k

navigation

"don't be so fucking sensitive, y/n! i was just messing around. you're getting all riled up over nothin', kid." matt groans, leaning back and supporting himself with his hands on the mattress underneath him.

a scoff falls from your lips as you cross your arms, watching him from the open door of his bedroom, "don't call me 'kid', i'm not a fuckin' kid, matthew. and you could've died from the height of your apartment! you're still drunk." you catch sight of his blown pupils even from across the room, worry and anger clear on your face.

matt just rolls his eyes, gripping the sheets in his hands as he sighs, "well, i can hear what you're saying perfectly, thank you. and, plus, i wasn't gonna lose 50 fucking dollars, y/n."

"you didn't have to give it to the guy, matt. you're just so reckless, it's like you're trying to kill yourself 24/7! what is your problem?" your breathing is heavy now, the heat of the argument never dying down as you continue to voice your complaints about his recklessness. tears threaten to fall down your cheeks as he just mutters inaudible words.

"what problem? there's not a problem, you're the one making it a problem, y/n. it's not my fault you're such a boring fucking person. god, i can't even comprehend why i wanted to date you!" he growls, his voice never shaking as he stares you straight in the eyes. he seems serious, but you knew that he always said things he never meant while under the influence.

it feels like your whole world just fell apart, though. your chest feels tighter and it's almost like you can barely breathe, gripping the doorframe tightly as you watch matt fiddle with the edge of his pillowcase. he really doesn't care, his eyes not showcasing any emotion other than hatred. or, that's what it seems. you want the tears to fall, but they don't. you want to leave, but you can't. you want matt to say something, maybe even take it back, but he doesn't.

you want to— "then why haven't you broken up with me?" stupid. the realization that you just spoke up hits you only when matt stands up from his bed, inching closer toward your small figure as he gets tilts his head to get a better look at you, "tell me, matt." again? just shut up!

"you're right, i really wonder why i didn't do this sooner." your eyes widen in the slightest, your heart dropping to your stomach as you stare up into his cold, blue eyes that once looked at you in adoration. the spark that was once there is gone now as he looks at you, squinting his eyes as he speaks, "we're over. get the fuck out of my room, y/n."

your lips part in a silent gasp, eyes searching his for any signs of hesitation or regret or something. nothing, once again. he scoffs when he takes a step back, crossing his arms in a mimicking manner as he nods his head toward the hallway behind you, "actually, get the fuck out of my house."

the sick feeling in your stomach never leaves even as you turn away from your boyf—ex, and walk through the hallway. you make your way down the stairs, not even stopping to say bye to nick or chris as you pass by them in the living room. all you do is keep your head down and drag your feet, grabbing your jacket off the rack before leaving through the front door. it slams behind you, but you don't care anymore. your whole world just fell apart right in the hands of the person who you loved most. in the hands of the person who you thought loved you the most.

matt didn't care, though. well, not until he replayed the earlier events in his head over and over again after he saw you leave down the stairs. the impact of his words didn't hit himself until you were finally gone and he was sitting in his room alone, surrounded by millions of memories of you and him. your clothes were still here, the things you bought for him, they were painful reminders of the words that he just spoke to you. he didn't even think about it when he said them, he was just spitting out anything that came to mind. he wasn't thinking of the consequences.

maybe he should run after you or maybe he should just sit here and drown in his sorrow and despair, that was the more reasonable option. for him at least. his mind is so loud right now, he doesn't even know what to think anymore. his body moves by itself, jolting forward as his feet take him running down the stairs. he skips steps, almost tripping over his untied shoelaces and stumbling down the last few. he takes a quick glance at the living room and kitchen, but you're not there.

party guests call matts name, but he's not listening. he's not interested in whatever bullshit they have to say right now because his mind is shouting at him to find you, to make things right and show you that he never meant it. he doesn't even notice that he's shoving party goers out of the way until someone pushes him back, resulting in the brunette getting splashed with some red beverage. his heart beats fast and hard, the sound loud and drowning out any other thing around him. we'll, besides the overwhelming thoughts of you.

he slips on one of chris's jackets, darting out the door and slamming it shut behind him. he doesn't see you in the driveway, no sight of your car down the street or on the side of the apartment. his ears pick up on the sound of a car beeping, and his head whips around to find a bike propped up against the garage door. it all happens so fast, he can't even remember when he started pedaling down the street and catching sight of your h/c hair through your car window. he waves, but you don't give him anything back.

it feels like he's invisible, and now he knows what you felt like tonight in that apartment, alone and unseen. unheard by any and everyone around you, including the love of your life. matt watches as you speed up, ready to round the corner deeper into the neighborhood. you really don't know where you're going, though. all you want right now is to just get away from the house and never come back, you didn't want to remember the events of tonight ever. your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as your foot presses even harder on the break.

the tears you held back earlier now begin to fall, and you mentally curse yourself for not holding them in longer. now you couldn't see anything, your vision blurry as you bring a hand up and off the steering wheel to wipe your eyes, trying to see through the windshield again. it doesn't work, and now you're just hoping that you won't lose control over the car. the limited time that your vision is cleared, you can see matt following close behind your car on a black bike, and your first instinct is to freeze and stare.

you don't make the turn, stomping on the brakes in the middle of the road as you watch your boy come closer and closer. his eyes widen, lips parting before you hear a cry of your name tumble from his lips. the only noise you hear is a loud horn coming from the left of you, your head whipping to the side and watching as a large truck comes your way at a fast pace. then, you hear the ringing in your ear, eyes squeezing shut as you let your arms fall to the side of you.

the truck t-bones your car, sending both of the vehicles flying to the right quickly. you smell gas, feeling the wet sensation of blood dripping down your temple and running down the bridge of your nose. your body feels weak, like you can't move, so you just sit there, head lying against the airbag on the steering wheel as you slip into unconsciousness. matt watches in shock and fear as your car tips on its side and smoke begins to erupt from the hood of the car. his heart feels like it stops beating for a moment as he watches the truck reverse and drive off quickly, anger coursing through his veins as he jumps off the bike and lets it fall to the pavement of the sidewalk.

he runs over to your car, his chest heaving up and down quickly as he makes an effort to tip the car back on its wheels. it doesn't work, though, and he grunts as he throws himself against the metal of the roof, "y/n, hey!" his voice seems to snap you out of your daze, now feeling fully conscious as your eyes flutter open again. your body fell against the car door, the seatbelt strap felt like it was suffocating you. the small space of the car suddenly made you weary, eyes widening as your breathing picked up rapidly.

"don't! stop, y/n, don't panic," matt breathes out, trying his best to come off as calm and collected. but he's really not, he's far from anything relatively close to the sort. more footsteps are heard behind him, and now his neighbor is standing a few feet beside matt, "what the fuck happened?"

"doesn't matter. js' help me flip the car, would you?" matt sighs, the panic in his body rising as the smell of gas surfaces. the car flips onto the wheels after quite a moment of struggles, and matt doesn't hesitate to throw youe car door open and grab you. his feet take him stumbling away from the car again, holding you tightly in his arms as if he let go, he would lose you. again. a string of coughs erupt from your throat as you and matt fall gently to the grass of someone's front yard, and matt lies you down as he props himself up with his elbows.

his neighbor is already far away, phone up to his ear as he watches the car explode into flames, the windows of nearby houses reflecting the burning red, orange, and blue lights. matt breathes out as he grips the fabric of his hoodie, more tears coming to his eyes at the realization that if he hadn't left sooner, you would've died. his head moves away entirely from the scene, looking back at your weak body that lay on the grass beside him.

only then does he notice the large gash just below your hairline, and his breath hitches again as he struggles to throw his hoodie over his head and hold it against your own. his other hand cradles the back of your head, his body hovering over yours as he silently prays that you'll be alright. the blood has already traveled down your neck, though. it soaks your white shirt as your head falls to the side, eyes threatening to close as you mutter out jumbled up words, "hey, hey, come on, look at me, y/n. please, look at me. open your eyes, come on..!"

"baby, please. just stay awake, please. my pretty girl, come on..!!" he whispers, anger overcoming his being as he grips the fabric in his hands tighter. he's so angry at himself. he wished he was the one in that car. he should've been the one to experience this, not you. you didn't deserve this at all. it was all his fault, what happened to you. what if he had just talked with you? what if he had just said sorry? what if, what if, what if?

the world seems to spinning faster than usual right now, your head aching as you look at your surroundings. as you look up at the sky, you're met with the cool shade of blue that slowly fades to orange and pink as it travels beneath the mountain until you can't see. then, you make out the frame of matts face, his eyes full of worry and his hair messy. tears stream down his face as he cried quietly, "matt?" you mutter weakly, eyes teary and bloodshot. he nods frantically, a small smile forming on his lips as he whispers, "yes, yes, yes. it's me." but then it all goes away.

matt? who was matt? your face contorts into a look of confusion as you try to tilt your head, only to hiss at the sting the small movement causes, "what—who? who are you?" the hope is washed away by those few words, and the brunettes smile disappears as he feels tiny, imaginary daggers stabbing away at his heart. he doesn't have time to speak before he finally hears the blaring sounds of sirens coming down the street. multiple emergency vehicles drive down the pavement quickly, stopping at the scene. matt is suddenly being pulled away from your frail body, fighting against the hands of the paramedics as he tries to yell out your name. nothing comes out, though, his voice too tired to be used anymore.

his vision is blurred, but he can still make out the way your eyes close softly as your head falls to the side. his heart shatters as he cries out your name finally, all the emotions so overwhelming he doesn't know what else to say. then his brothers are holding him close, trying to calm him down as all three of them stumble to the pavement of their driveway, "matt, hey, look at us. she'll be okay." nick whispers reassuringly, but he doesn't know if that's true. chris just stares blankly as the paramedics carry you on a gurney into the back of the ambulance.

your lip is busted, blood dripping down your head quickly and multiple bruises scattered across your body. the ambulance doors begin to close, and matt quickly jumps up from his place between his brothers and sprints towards the red car. his hands pry the doors open again, eyes wild as he stares at the caretakers in the back of the ambulance, "please, let me come. i need to be here with her, just—" one of the paramedics nod, and that's all the confirmation matt needs to jump into the back and take his place beside your head.

the car shakes subtly on the gravelly road, and the gentle coos of... him make your eyelids open slowly. you want to get up, so you make an effort to move yourself off the gurney in the back of the ambulance, but the paramedics only urge to stay where you're at, "you have to lay down, you're in terrible shape, sweetheart." but why? what even happened? where were you and why were you there?

who were these people? no, who was the guy right beside you who continued to stroke your hair gently? you don't even know yourself right now. did you hit your head? is that why it ached? what about your body? your eyes move around the small, confined space of the ambulance, stopping when you look out of the little window in the back door. the car continues to move down the street, but you still don't remember where you're going or where you were coming from.

"what happened?" you finally speak, but your voice is low and quiet, barely audible to anyone over the beeping of machines and the rocks beneath the road. matt sighs quietly, and now your attention is on him, "you got in a car crash. you're okay, now, so, don't worry." he gives you a gentle smile, but you only give him a look of confusion and worry.

"no?" you try to argue, looking around at the paramedics beside you. they only nod, and your heart drops once again. you were always a safe driver, or at least that's what you think in that moment. everything in your mind is so blurry you don't even remember what happened yesterday or what plans you made for the future. and still, you didn't know the guy touching your face.

matt watches as you space out, his thumb stroking your cheek affectionately as he frowns. he remembers the look on your face earlier that night, when he broke things off, and now it's back. that dumbfounded look that makes your lips part and your eyes squint subtly. you looked the same at times, even when half your face was beat up. he didn't care, though, he still thought you were beautiful, always. he brings his hand up to brush a stray hair out of your face, and only then do you turn your head to look at him again.

"who are you..?" you whisper, eyes looking him up and down. his hair is messy, eyes droopy, cheeks stained with tears, and his clothing is wrinkled. matt tilts his head, a smile coming to his face as more tears well up in his eyes, "you don't remember me?" you shake your head the best you can, squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. it feels like you should remember him, it seems like he was an important person in your life, but you can't quite grasp who he was to you.

"you don't even remember calling out to me?" another shake of your head, and matt inhales sharply. he wanted to scream and cry. he wanted you to comfort him. he wanted you back. but he should've known you wouldn't remember it. he should've taken the hint the moment you asked who he was. it still hurt, though. it felt like the entire world was bashing him. emotionally and physically, it hurt, the guilt weighing down on his shoulders as he stared at your confused face, sniffling quietly before he took his hands off your head.

the drive continues, but this time the tension is thicker then before. the silence is so loud, you barely hear the loud blaring of a truck horn coming from outside of the car. you flinch hard, eyes shutting closed as you try and shield your face. matt watches with teary eyes, letting out a breath of sympathy as he replays the events in his head. then, the entire thing comes back to you. the loud horn, the smell of gas, the blood sticking to your hair and the boy who came to save you.

red, orange, blue. the fire. the screams and the cries that the boy let out for you. he was the first person to come after you because he cared for you. you still didn't know why, though. why did he care so much? why did he feel the need to save you? "i told you even then you looked so pretty, y/n. you still do, you'll always be beautiful to me." the brunette whispered, leaning over your frail body as he gave you a gentle smile. his eyes were teary, though, and he looked hurt. very hurt.

"i—i'm sorry." is all you can say at the moment, eyes traveling to his as you frown. he shakes his head, lips parting to inhale shakily before he speaks, "don't be. ts' not you're fault," he smiles, but when he looks back into your eyes, they're swarming with the tiniest bit of guilt, "you do know that, right?" nothing but silence from your end. the boy takes your hand lightly, careful not to accidentally hurt you as he runs his thumb along the top, "it was never your fault, baby. i promise you, it was my—it was that truckers fault for not stopping."

your lips curve into the smallest smile as you make an effort to hold his hand, and the boy almost bursts out into sobs as he feels it. his head turns away from you for a few moments, trying to recollect himself as he takes deep breaths. when he finally looks back at you, your eyes are already on him, "i'm—i'm matt, you're boyfriend. but... we need to talk about a few things, 'kay..?"

tags: @jetaimevous @livialifesblog @watercolorskyy @blahbel668 @her-favorite

@wiidfi0wer33