#i need chris away from her before i go INSANE

[greenbergsays]

the fact they set up the video call to be in the middle of the birthday party while there's so much else going on is foul and what's even more foul is helena fucking gloating while her son is in real actual pain

as a mother and a grandmother, it should hurt her to know that there's this kind of chasm between chris and eddie but INSTEAD she's fucking giddy with it bc she's getting her way

and that makes her the shittiest fucking parent, I don't even believe in hell but I hope she ROTS there

real talk the absolute fucking selfishness of helena diaz to keep eddie out of the loop with the birthday party and the invitations and purposefully not bringing him to sing happy birthday to his son while also making the moment eddie’s been planning for god knows how long less than a 30 seconds video chat is repulsive. fuck you helena. fuck you

[tourturestarradio]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘

“𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Prompt: Wolverine x kind reader x Deadpool 

Warnings: suggestive, sexual jokes, spoilers (kinda? after the time stuff) injuries, 

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

You couldn’t remember the last time you talked with Wade, it’d been a while. Longer than normal. He’d come into your shop asking for sweets all the time it was nice talking to him he was pretty funny.

You met him after he basically saved you from a creep trying to attack you. After that he’d visit you at work getting a discount for saving you, you grown to like him a lot but it took a while for you to get out of your comfort zone.

With his very vulgar language, very….out there personality you grew close with him, Wade telling his friends about you any chance he got which lead to him introducing you to his friends making you insanely nervous.

The interaction was odd for them not you. There stared at you “…you’re Y/n?” A teenager with a long name asked, you nodded happily a friendly smile on your face. They glanced at you then at Wade then back at you “…if you were forced to be here blink twice” 

You chuckled nervously but they seemed to be dead serious “I’m here on my own will, I promise” you clarified, Wade wrapped his arms around your shoulder “you think I forced her to be my friend! You hurt me” you glanced at him “will you kinda did-“ “alright let’s go meet Colossus!” He dragged you away from the moody teenager to continue to interact with his friends.

You thought back on the memory pouting missing your friend. You finished cleaning up your cafe about to leave when there was knock at the glass door, turning to look at it you saw a person standing their it looked like an older man.

You placed your bag down you grabbed your “baby knife” Wade gifted you, you didn’t like  violence but after what happened last time you stayed out too late  you slid it up your sleeve slowly unlocking and opening the door “hello do you need some help?” You asked.

The older man stumbled nodding “f-food please…” he almost fell onto you but you caught him “uh…um…okay just…just sit down please” you hummed carefully helping him sit down. 

You went to get treats that no one had bought, usually you’d give that to Wade but he wasn’t here so you’d give it to the old man. 

You turned to hand him the bag but he was standing up straight “um are you alright….sir?” Gripping onto the knife tighter you stepped closer to him, he chuckled lowly “to nice for your own good.” Before you knew it he jumped towards you. 

You screamed in surprise pulling out your knife you stabbed him “ahh you bitch!” He fell back clutching him chest “I-I’m sorry!” You didn’t know what to do you felt bad for stabbing him but he was going to attack you.

He pulled the knife out standing up, bad choice you gulped knowing the outcome of this situation.

That night you went home with plenty of injuries and no money. Great. You had unlocked your front door going inside you flicked on the light “surprise! Welcome home honey bun-“ he froze in his spot.

He’d waited to surprise you when you got home. He thought you’d be in-static to see he was home from his thrilling mission and was going to tell you all about it but he was shocked to see you with a busted lip, black eye and bruises covering your face and arms. 

“Oh my god what fuck!” He hurried up to you grabbing your shoulders “Wade nice to see you” you greeted, he was panicked but didn’t want to show it “how exactly can you see me? Looks like someone had a run in with Chris Brown, what happened” he joked.

You let out a dry chuckle “some jerk…I thought he needed…I thought he needed help but he was just trying to rob me. And he took my baby knife” Wade gasped “not the baby knife!” 

As you went to get in the shower Wade clenched his fists “Honey bun I’ll be right back to tell you all about my adventure and the new friends I made!” He shouted into the bathroom earning a “alright” from you. 

Leaving your house he went into his apartment slamming open his door gaining a odd look from the rest of the group. 

Logan raised a brow “what’s your deal?” Wade grabbed his swords and guns “some tiny dick loser attacked my friend” Logan stared at him with his usual annoyed face “so?” Wade stopped at the door looking back “so? That girl is one of if not the nicest and hottest person on the planet and some dickwad attacked her!” He turned and left the apartment slamming the door. 

“Who’s he talking about?” He asked Colossus got up “one of his close friends Y/n, she’s very important to him” he stated Logan was just confused but didn’t really care.

After a few hours Wade had returned dropping his weapons down at the floor “handled that, I feel so much better” he hummed, Logan glanced at him “you killed the guy didn’t you?” He asked. Wade smiled “yeah duh if you knew Honey hun like I knew her you’d do the same, well actually!” An idea popped into his head.

“Whatever your thinking. Don’t think it.” Wade laughed “oh come on you’ll love her! Not as much as the reader loves us but still” Logan looked at him confused “what?” “Oh come on peanut!” 

“If I go will you shut the fuck up?” Wade smiled leaving the apartment “no promises!” Logan rolled his eyes and followed. 

Wade knocked on the door “Honey bun! I’m back and I’ve brought a friend!” He continued to knock until the door opened revealing you now patched up and holding a ice pack up to your eye.

“Oh hi Wade, hello Wade’s friend” You smiled politely moving out of the way to let Wade and his friend in “I’m not his friend.” You shut the door “oh well what’s your name? I’m Y/n nice…nice to meet you” you greeted.

He stared down at you, he wasn’t to fond of physical contact and if he was touching someone it was usually stabbing punching slicing. But he grabbed your hand shaking it before letting go quickly “Logan.” He stated, You smiled at him “nice to meet you Logan- wait like Wolverine Logan!” You wanted to scream.

Wade watched as you hurried to your room, “she was a big fan of the X men Wolverine was her favorite you’d be surprised at the amount of edits she and probably the reader has saved on Tik tok” 

Logan looked at Wade confused “you wouldn’t get it, I never had the guts to tell her he died. I mean look at her” you hurried out of your room holding an X men comic “if…if you don’t mind could you sign this…please…” you gulped nervously.

Wade leaned over “come on, look how excited she is, kinda like how I was seeing her naked for the first time” Logan scoffed “shut it. Look I’m not that Wolverine…” he huffed, that look of excitement faded from your face almost made him a little sad.

“Oh…wait I’m confused…” Wade held your shoulders “time to tell you all about my adventure!” He pushed you over to your couch.

After telling you about everything that happened you sat with a frown “so the Wolverine from our world is gone…” Wade nodded “yep but yaknow Hugh jackmen just couldn’t get enough of this roll so now he’s alive again.” 

You glanced at Logan “so you’re still Wolverine…just from a different world…?” He nodded “that’s still so cool!” You stated excitedly, Logan looked at you a little surprised by how enthusiastic you were.

But he knew how this would turn out, he’s not gonna engage. You seemed like a sweet girl but he knows how this goes so he wasn’t going to even try. 

“Yeah I’m not all that great.” He huffed, you lightly nudged him a playful tone “well you still saved the world, and you’re still cool to me” you hummed, Wade’s smile widened “Honey bun” he called out, you looked at him “you got any cookies?” You nodded “sure I’ll go get some.” 

You got up leaving the two “see what did I tell you, she’s amazing!” Logan rolled his eyes “fuck off” he grumbled, Wade laughed “ha! You know I’m right! She’s perfect in literally every way!” Logan huffed crossing his arms. 

You came back holding a plate of cookies Wade pulled you down onto his lap grabbing a cookie shoving it into his mouth. 

You gulped “so um…can I….can I see your claws?” You asked nervously shuffling Wade held you still “no shuffling too much I haven’t got some in a while and the head downstairs misses you” you ignored his comment an stayed focused on Logan.

He held up his hand you lightly touched in between his knuckles feeling his claws under his skin “cool…” you muttered. He wouldn’t tell you but your reactions were somewhat cute. 

He clenched his fist his claws coming out a cheesy grin grew on your face as you hit Wades arm “look, look” a small laugh exiting your mouth “trust me babe I’ve seen them and felt them inside me multiple times” Logan glared at him “don’t word it like that.” 

Wade shoved another cookie in his mouth “don’t deny what we had!” You touched his blades “cool” he retracted them “well at least I can die happy” you joked.

Wade wrapped his arms around you squeezing you tightly “I won’t let that happen!” 

Logan looked at you and how nice you were, maybe you weren’t so bad after all…

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: I fucking loved Deadpool 3!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHH

[bernardsbendystraws]

Red Eyes (Dealer!Chris x Reader)

➢   “--didn’t mean to—’m sorry, okay? I…hmmm…have you always smelt this good?”

⚠︎ MDNI, SMUT, p n v, public sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, angst, crying, and more → 3277 words

A/N: Interaction is appreciated! I do not give consent for my work to be plagiarized or uploaded on any other platform.

With love and big tits, ᡣ𐭩 Rose → Navigation [ Previous Part ]

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

2: Don't You Wanna Make Me Proud?

I could feel his cum dripping out of me. The mirror in front of me captured his face perfectly, the slight layer of sweat on his forehead matching the way his lips parted and huffed for air. 

Our routine of lounging in his room had been interrupted. One minute his hands were all over me, the next they were answering a call—her call. I knew exactly who it was. Riley had a habit of calling him up too much. Sometimes she didn’t even need any more weed, it was simply to ‘help’ him out and invite him to her parties. 

He didn’t need her help. Chris was fine, he got business constantly. I don’t know why, but for some reason, he always made sure to go to her parties. He had dragged me to a couple before, but this was different. 

Right before his phone had rang, his hands were all over me. He had insisted on giving me a more innocent stress relief, but I couldn’t help but squirm and beg for more as his hands massaged all on me. Chris took his sweet time lingering his groping hands on my thighs, ‘accidentally’ grazing my pussy. 

His hands were softer than usual. It drove me insane. The slight circles he rubbed on my clit through my clothes was clouding every thought that didn’t revolve around him. Layer by layer, I had finally been naked and his hands were working magic, toying with my clit playfully as he laughed at me squirming. 

And then the stupid phone rang. 

Not only did he pick it up, but he started getting ready while talking to her. I was pissed to say the least. I was even more pissed watching him entertain her all night, giving her smiles that belonged to me. Jealousy was an understatement. My skin raged with offense watching him pick her over me. 

I couldn’t help but drag him away from her and towards the bathroom. Although, it didn’t seem like he minded. He had me slightly bent over the counter sink, gripping my shoulder to pull me back into each thrust, directing me to keep my eyes on the mirror to watch everything. 

It all felt so good. I almost forgot how fucked everything was, how stupid it was to be so desperate for him when he shrugged me off for a dumb party. But shame didn’t overpower how much I needed him to touch me. Shame didn’t come close to how good he felt fucking into me from behind. 

“I’m gonna go back out, clean up and we’ll leave in a few.” 

Shame. That’s all that overtakes me, churning my gut with nausea as he yanks my dress down, kissing the side of my head and sneaking out the bathroom door. 

He came with me to the bathroom. He fucked me. But, he was going back to talk to her. Looking back into the mirror, I wince at my smudged makeup. The black mascara starts dropping streaks down my cheeks as I sniffle. 

This wasn’t worth it anymore. 

Grabbing my phone, I call up the only other person I knew I could call. 

“Hello–”

“Could you come pick me up?” 

“It’s him again, isn’t it?” My silence explains wordlessly while sharp sniffs echo in the bathroom. “Oh honey…I’m on my way.” 

____

I couldn’t stop shaking. Mostly because I couldn’t stop thinking. Once it all came crashing down, it really all sank in. He didn’t love me. Not in the way I wanted him to. All I was doing was hurting myself, letting myself think something would change. 

“Hey, it’s okay…I got you, let it all out,” her voice soothes. Vee had been there for me. Not that we were necessarily super close, but our late night study sessions had revolved in a lot of trauma dumping. I didn’t remember the last time I hugged someone who wasn’t Chris. I couldn’t even remember it ever feeling like this—so utterly bare. 

“I’m so dumb–”

“You’re not dumb. You’re human, it’s okay, you just….you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please? For me? Promise you’ll stop torturing yourself like this. I can’t watch.” Sighing at her words, I attempt to sit up, only to have her pull me into a tighter hug. A cry leaves my lips. I’m not even sure how anymore, everything feels so drained, but the second she pulls me closer…I can feel my heart shatter with the mantra; this has to end. 

“I love him so much, you…you—you don’t understand. He’s always there for me, he’s been there for me—”

“Where is he now?” she asks. 

My lips fall into a silent pout. He’s with her. Did he even notice I was gone? Did he even care? Maybe he was fucking her in that same bathroom. Maybe he would give her more than one quick glance after cumming inside of her.

It made me sick. 

I could see it. His hands grabbing her waist, his smile looming over her shoulder as she looked in the mirror. Maybe he’d even look into her eyes and lean in closer. 

Fuck. I couldn’t think about it. 

“Are you—”

Vee is running behind me as I rush into the bathroom. Not a sip of alcohol had entered my mouth, not even one hit of anything to give my brain some sort of euphoria except for sex. But, it didn’t feel like it. Contents rushed out of my mouth and into her toilet as I felt her pull my hair back, rubbing my shoulder. 

Physically, mentally, and emotionally sick. 

As I sit back trying to catch my breath, I heave for air while tears rush down my cheeks. It all feels so heavy. My heart feels like it’s weighing down my entire body. 

I can’t take it. 

____

Three days. I had made excuse after excuse in my mind, but none of them added up. Not a single text or call from him. Chris didn’t even seem to notice my absence. Maybe he had someone—her to fill the void of what I usually gave him though. 

I kept picturing them together. Him fucking her from behind like he did with me, but even worse…him fucking her face-to-face. 

How many times did she make him cum? 

Was she better than me? 

Vee had made me promise not to reply to him. I agreed, but I didn’t expect this. Silence was not something I assumed would’ve happened. And technically…I wasn’t replying, I was reaching out. 

I didn’t care what happened—I didn’t even know what I wanted to happen. All I knew was I needed to see him, I needed to hear him, and I needed to know. I was tired of rotting in my bed, wondering what position they were, how deep he was in her. He was mine. 

The drive wasn’t long. Arriving at his front door, I was almost debating turning around. What was I doing here? What was I hoping would happen? But, the door opened before I could give it a second thought. 

“Oh…hey? What are you doing here?” 

A familiar face, one similar to his. Matt pulled me into the house, his eyes dancing over my appearance with concern. We weren’t nearly as close as Chris and I were, but him and I just got each other. He could tell when I was just done, and I saw the signs he gave too. 

Sometimes the music would just be too loud in the car altogether and he would look at me from the rearview mirror, turning it down while offering a sympathetic smile. Other times, I’d see him getting frustrated with how much energy Chris had and I’d let Chris play with my hair or redirect him to something else to level his energy out. We just got each other. 

“I…you…” He looks up to my face, his eyes scrunching with concern. “What’s going on?” he asks. 

What’s going on?

My brain raced to find an easy answer. Settling on a dismantled junction of thoughts and shards of truths lingering together, weighing my shoulders down as I let out a sullen huff. 

‘I fell in love with your brother and now I’m so consumed with thoughts of him loving this other girl that I get physically ill.’ 

But I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything as Matt tugged my arm lightly, having me follow him up to the living room as we sat on the couch. Nick looks up from his phone, offering me a head nod with tired eyes. 

“Hey,” Nick states. 

Matt picks his phone up, dropping it on the table before running off to his room with a giddy laugh. My eyes float over to Nick, watching him shrug with a judgemental expression. 

“Bitch, I don’t know either, don’t look at me.” 

____

Sweet fucking relief. Matt had decided to bring out his lego sets. We all worked on them together, joking around as I felt the weight of reality lighten. It had all felt so out of control, this felt like some sort of grounding—something telling me I wasn’t completely hopeless of feeling joy. 

“What’s up though? You usually don’t come over unannounced, not that I’m complaining though. I can’t stand living with two straight men alone sometimes.” Nick remarks. I snicker at his statement, shoving in the last piece to complete the lego sculpture as Matt flips him off. 

“Don’t know,” I shrug, brushing it off as reality creeps in. I can almost hear the thump of my heart echo, but I realize it’s footsteps—his footsteps. 

“What’re you guys—oh, hey.” 

My jaw clenches from his dry words. He ghosted me, didn’t even care to check if I was okay, and all I got was that. I loved this man. I loved how sweet he was, how his arms felt like the softest blanket imaginable, how his laugh made everything seem okay….I loved him and he didn’t even like me enough to see if I was okay. 

Everyone seemed to fall silent. I could hear my breaths getting heavier as I glared at him, but I couldn’t help it. He hurt me by making me feel so stupid—by making me want to ruin everything holding me together for just a moment of feeling like it was us against the world. 

“I….I’m just gonna go to bed…night, guys.” Matt starts getting up to walk towards his room, Nick following after him as he starts to wander towards his own bedroom. 

“Yeah, me too. Night.” 

As they disappear behind closed doors and hallways, Chris sighs, walking over and sitting next to me on the couch. My teeth clamp into my cheek as I feel myself growing hot with anger. 

He couldn’t even check up on me. 

Was he too busy spending the whole night with her? 

Maybe he held her all night when he didn’t even bother to pull down my dress all the way. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

My head whips to stare at him with a slacked jar. Is he serious? Am I okay?

“You’re fucking kidding me. Chris, you’re—” I squint my eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I take a shaky breath. 

He didn’t even care to think how hurt this would all make me. 

“I…let’s go talk in my room, okay?” 

____

Everything was just building up more and more. We both sat on his bed in a dead silence, a silence he needed to break. 

“So…”

I sigh hearing his clueless words. Did he really not think this much? Did she consume every thought of his? 

“So what, Chris? You didn’t even bother to check up on me–”

“I saw you leave with Vee that night, what are you talkin’ about, kid?” 

Oh. 

“Don’t call me that,” I mutter. 

Was I really that stupid? 

It felt like every word that left my mouth was just confirming how fucking dumb I felt. 

His body scoots closer to mine as he slugs his arm around me, nuzzling my head to his chest. “Hey…don’t be mad at me, okay? Talk it through c’mon. The last thing I wanna do is stress you out more.” 

My body stiffens. I lean against the headboard, shying out of his arms. With my arms crossed in front of my body, I can feel his stare intensify on me, trying to read me like a book. My tongue clicks on the side of my cheek. Tears flood and warm my face as I stare up to the ceiling, letting out a sigh of frustration as I blink furiously. 

It wasn’t his fault, it was mine. There was nobody to blame except for me and I was taking it out on him. 

“I’m sorry, I guess I just….I don’t know, Chris. You—you left me the other day in the bathroom like that. That…that was kinda fucked up, ya know?” 

I cringe hearing the way I undermine every emotion with casual words. He hurt me. Even if he didn’t mean to—he hurt me. 

“Ma….” he whispers, trying to pry my arms apart. I keep them clenched against my chest, watching him sigh in defeat as he lays his chin on my forearm to stare up at me. “--didn’t mean to—’m sorry, okay? I…hmmm…have you always smelt this good?” he asks, whispering to himself as his lips brush against my stomach peeking out from the bottom of my shirt. 

Fuck. I forgot how good it felt. 

His eyes gleam up at me. The scene of him so far buried in giving me affection leaves me forgetting everything, but as soon as his teeth nibble slightly onto my hipbone, I’m met with a brutal reminder of the bruise still lingering from the bathroom counter he had me bent over. 

The anger fuels my hunger more, leaving me shifting to sit up despite his hands pushing me down into the bed. 

“Oh, please, ma? Just wanna kiss ya…” he trails off, lingering the tip of his finger to trace subtle patterns onto my bare hip, pulling the fabric of my sweats down slightly. 

I bring my hand up, caressing the pout of his face before starting to adjust my body weight. Slugging my leg over his hips, I grin hearing him hiss as I sit on top of his hardening dick. 

The vibrance of the room is dark besides the glowing TV behind us, paused on some sort of scene that leaves a blue glow gliding along his skin to highlight his features. I place my palms on his stomach, sliding them up and underneath his shirt teasingly, leaning down as I nibble on his neck and ear. 

A groan falling from his mouth makes my teeth ache to bite harder. He shifts underneath me, quickly stripping his shirt off. Chris grasps me tightly from the back of my neck, guiding my lips to his as he holds onto my hip, grinding his cock up into me. 

He smirks against me as a moan vibrates from my lips. “Yeah? That feel good, ma?” he taunts. 

Pushing him down by the shoulder roughly, I start to grind my hips more intently. Chris’s hands quickly grab onto my hips, his nails digging into the fabric of my sweats as he tries to grind up into me. 

“Nope,” I say, hovering over him as he lets out a huff of frustration. “I get control or you get nothing.” 

His eyes furrow as he fiddles with the hem of my shirt. Frustration covers his features. The fidget of his hands meddles and tickles my skin, my gut clenching as I feel him linger his hand down a line from my belly button, stopping just above my sweats. 

“Oh, c’mon….don’t you want me to–”

I start getting off of him, biting back a smirk as he pulls me down and gives me a pleading look. “Wait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just….just touch me, ma. Please,” he rambles, grabbing my hand and guiding it to the bulge in his sweats. 

The desperation of his hard grip leaves me prideful. He needs me—he wants me. 

“Yeah? You want me to touch you, baby? 

____

Clothes had been discarded and arrayed around the floor. None of the articles of fabric being from my own body. In fact, I was completely clothed. The tops of my tits were nearly spilling out due to him grasping onto the area, but it just made me even more happy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkkkkk,” he strains, his abdomen clenching and restricting as I keep my even strokes of my hand up and down his cock, my thumb gliding over his throbbing tip that’s already coated in cum. 

With his head thrown back into the pillows, I watch him fall apart. His eyes roll while he squints with a silent moan falling from his parted lips. 

As he rides out the high, I keep my hand just the same, fucking him through the high and keeping the same, lazy pace. “Ohmygod, ma, I—”

“C’mon, Chris…don’t you wanna make me proud?” I purr, watching him furiously nod as his hips fuck into my hand. 

“--’m—shit, I—” His words are cut off by breathless heaving and strangled moans. 

Licking over my lips, I feel satisfied watching the scene before me play out; his desperation written in his body and spoken with words as I please him with just my hand. 

“That’s it, come on, be so good for me, that’s right,” I soothe, watching as his body squirms into the mattress from side to side, trying to find relief from the overstimulation while chasing another high at the same time. 

“Fuck yeah, I—mygod,” he rasps. 

I slow down my pace in the slightest, nearly laughing as he grips onto my wrist, desperately pulling it to go faster. “Say you’re mine, Chris. Say you’re mine and I’ll let you cum,” I announce, stroking his cheek for comfort as he leans into the touch, sucking my thumb into his mouth and letting it pop from his lips with a puddle of drool. 

“--’m yours, fuck—’m yours, ma. All—all fuckin’ yours,” 

Cooing at him, I speed up my hand. His mouth is silently hanging open, his lips and chin both glazed from sloppy drool. 

“Can I—need to cum, oh–please, please, please, ma. I—need to, to make a mess—for you,” he slurs. 

Brushing a hand through his hair, I place my lips onto his, smiling as he struggles to reciprocate the motion while my hand strokes up and down on his cock. I feel his hand tangle up into my hair, forming a fist as he yanks me roughly to him, a desperate attempt to keep himself grounded as his mouth opens wide, a sharp moan leading into a whimper as I feel his warm cum fall down my hand. 

“---’m cumming, cummming–fuck. I…ohmygod, I fuckin’ love—” 

The words are cut off by his body tensing impossibly more, his lips sloppily landing onto mine as my eyes go wide. 

What did I just do? 

What was he gonna say? 

It was all in the heat of the moment, but as his body relaxed I felt my heart thump into my ears, drums pounding against my tightened chest as his words chanted through my head. 

Any pride falls short as shame sinks in. His muddled brain didn’t even know what he was saying, it wasn’t his fault. 

It wasn’t his fault that I was breaking my own heart. 

It wasn’t his fault that I had broken every rule and every promise just to have this moment—the moment that always ended in the same realization. 

He isn’t even mine to lose.

[cherrynflowergarden]

જ⁀➴ we listen and we don't judge || matt sturniolo

sturniolo masterlist taglist

it started with an innocent suggestion. “babe, let’s try this tiktok trend,” she said, holding up her phone as she settled onto the couch.

matt raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “what trend?”

“you know, the ‘we listen and we don’t judge’ one. people tell their unhinged stories, and we just… don’t judge.”

he smirked, leaning back with his arm lazily draped around her shoulders. “you’re gonna judge them. you’re the queen of side-eye.” “i will not,” she said indignantly, though the hint of a smile gave her away. “come on, it’ll be fun!” “fine.” he adjusted his hoodie and nodded. “but if this gets outta pocket, don’t look at me like it’s my fault.”

she clicked record, grinning at the camera. “okay, so we’re doing the ‘we listen, we don’t judge’ challenge. i have a bunch of these to say. ready?”

“born ready,” he replied, though the confused glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

she took a deep breath and said aloud “‘i used to fake passing out during pe class so i didn’t have to run laps. one time, they called an ambulance, and i had to pretend to wake up ‘confused’ just to keep the lie going.’”

he blinked at her, then let out a sharp laugh. “nah, that’s crazy. you’re telling me they had the whole ambulance rolling up, lights flashing, for fake fainting?!”

“babeeeeee! we’re not judging!” she scolded, though she was giggling too.

“i’m not judging—i’m… i’m admiring. yeah. that’s commitment. but also, imagine having to keep that up for the rest of the semester.” he mimicked a dazed expression. “‘oh no, i can’t run laps. what if i pass out again?’”

she shoved his shoulder playfully. “stop. your turn”

“okay so one time in high school this girl won’t stop asking me out, so to avoid her i pretended to be nick.” she blinked, shocked at this revealed fact. “…woah?” matt laughed at her stated and gestured her to continue.

“fine so you remember your favourite hoodie that ‘got lost’? yeah well it’s lying in my cupboard right now and i use it whenever i miss you.” she said innocently. matt gasped loudly, “you thief! but it’s kinda sweet actually.”

“moving forward, i became obsessed with your skincare products after you did my skincare once.” he confessed. she let out a huge dramatic gasp hearing this. “so this is the reason i keep running out of the products!”

“hey no judgement.”

“urg so i keep on raiding your secret chocolate sash and blame it on chris every time you ask me” before he could even react and loud “what” was heard behind the camera from the youngest brother. the video cut to next scene where matt sided eyed his girlfriend before he said the last confession of the challenge.

“i download your voicemails and listen to them when i—”

before he could finish the sentence, a flying pillow was thrown his way cutting off the inappropriate thing he was about to say.

“mattew there are children on the app” she gasped. “you said no judging” matt said, faking confusion.

“that was before you broke the rules of decency.” was the last thing the camera could capture.

view comments

user1

HELLOOO THE LAST PART????????

→ user2 RIGHT LIKE MATT EXPLAINNN🌝

user5

mama y papa

user6

user7 could be us but you playing me😔

→ user7 i'm just playing video games?

→ user6 still playing me😔

→ user7 i'm so confused babe?

yourusername

user6 n user7 are my otp😇

chrissturniolo

dada

→ yourusername ...woah?

→ chrissturniolo 😹

user13

faking fainting is insane

→ user12 so is faking identity

user4

they're so 😕😕😕😕💔💔💔💔

user8

do you need a dog i can bark WOOF WOOF

→ user9 dude?

→ user8 grETA GET OUT

mattsturniolo

🫶🫶

user3

i hate happy couples 🤗🤗🤗

an; it's 5 am rn and i had the sudden motivation to write just now :D

tags: @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-bell @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf @blahbel668 @my-dinos-life-is-good @ssturniolo92 @lilly6110 @lou-larcher5 @arminluvrr @mxryxmfooty @gabri3la-sturns @bellsboops @f1-and-shiz @emely9274 @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @unx100to @strnlslut

@mattslovergirlie @sarakpalsd @sweetobservationface @shadowthesim @mattslolita @cupiidk1lls @urloveanaa @t1llysblog @meatball10 @fiowerbeds

[nervoussagittarius]

y/n and matt being the hottest couple to ever walk the earth

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: part two of hot moments of matt and his girlfriend caught on camera

warnings: fluffy, little suggestive, probably some swearing, request

★ you sat on the triplets couch watching them from behind the camera as they filmed a wednesday video. you occasionally caught matt’s eyes where he would send you a wink that he would later claim wasn’t what it looked like.

you were usually out of sight out of mind when they were filming, but today matt looked so good and you needed a front row seat to that show. when they neared the end of filming you decided to rile matt up a little and send him a sexual picture of yourself.

you saw matt pick up his phone and instantly widen his eyes before he turned his head to the side with a look of shock. he tried to hide his expression but you easily caught on. he set his phone back down trying to be nonchalant.

all he had to do was film an outro he thought. if he could make it through without having to stand up he’d be golden. you sneakily made your way from the couch to matt’s room, his eyes following your movements. “matt stand up what are you doing?” chris complained.

matt thought for sure that his cover was blown. his mind went to you and he pulled your hand as you went past him. “come say hi to everyone.” matt said through gritted teeth. you jokingly stuck your tongue out at him while he used you to hide the problem your picture caused.

he placed you in front of him as you waved at the camera. you could feel his growing boner on you so you reached behind your back to rest a hand in his hip, caressing gently. he quickly grasped your hand in his before you could move any further.

nick said the last words as matt instantly threw you over his shoulder. it would be lying to say he wasn’t running you to his room. “those weirds say goodnight.” nick said.

“you sneaky bastard.” you let out as matt threw you in his bed. “me? i’m not the one sending nudes in the middle of filming.” matt retorted with a laugh.

★ going out of the house with matt was always an adventure. there were always people following you guys or asking for pictures. you didn’t mind. you guys loved interacting with matt’s fans. what you did mind though was the random girls coming up to your boyfriend and asking for his number.

you weren’t really a jealous person. you knew that matt was the most loyal person ever and after years of dating it was hard to deny the fact that he only had eyes for you.

that leads you to today. you and matt are waking through downtown los angeles, hand in hand like normal, when this girl approached matt. she had a friend with her, unbeknownst to you, filming the entire interaction.

“hey i saw you from across the street and thought you were really attractive. can i get your number?” matt payed barely any attention to her, knowing how this conversation was going to go.

matt let go of your hand before using your belt loop to tug you closer to him and putting his hand in your back pocket. “actually this is my girlfriend.” he stated as he started to walk you two away.

“oh wow she’s really pretty.” the girl said. matt made no effort to turn around before stating, “yeah. she is.”

you looked up at him with a shocked smile. “how could i not be dating you? you’re insanely perfect.” matt said placing a kiss to your head.

★ nick was being very active on his snapchat tonight while you and matt took the liberty to make dinner for everyone.

you two stood in the kitchen waiting for water to boil for pasta. you and matt loved cooking together. it was something fun that challenged you guys to start eating healthier.

matt was beginning to fidget with impatience. “what’s wrong?” you asked. matt looked at you with desperation in his eyes. “i really want this water to boil so we can eat and then go lay down together.” he said honestly.

you moved to wrap your hands around matt’s neck and place soft kisses to his face. attacking him with kisses was one of your favorite hobbies. matt pulled away from you with a smile and blown out pupils. “god! i just want to go makeout with my girlfriend! why won’t this stupid water hurry up.”

you giggled at his outburst before pulling him closer to you and leaning up to meet his lips. matt met you in the middle quickening your pace.

his hands wrapped around your waist as your hands found the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled ever so slightly. matt released your mouth with a groan, and you began to suck small areas around his neck.

it wasn’t until later that night that you found out nick accidentally caught your exchange in the background of his stories. it was a little to late to do anything so you two accepted your new title as the hottest internet couple.

comments:

i just KNOW they’re freaky

matt is a treasure. no man is that loyal

they’re such a power duo

mother and father

taglist: @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt @luvr4miya @hpyjw @unbruisable @watercolorskyy @elliewrites1 @rheaasturn @slxt4matt @mmay4ever @aurizp

[dixons-sunshine]

A Risk | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an attempt to hide from a herd, Daryl sought cover in an abandoned cabin. However, he stumbled across a woman that threatened him, and he soon figured out that there was more to her than meets the eye.

Era: Prison, pre season four.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to near death, walkers.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: Requested by @nikkicloudie. I hope you like this!

“I said: Lower. Your. Fucking. Weapon.”

Against his better judgement, Daryl slowly and hesitantly lowered his crossbow, allowing it to drop to the floor with a dull clink. Once his beloved crossbow was out of his grasp, he raised his hands above his head in surrender.

“I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble, lady,” Daryl spoke up, his ocean-coloured eyes flickering between the gun in your grasp and your face. He was searching for any change in your demeanour, for any sign that you would attack. “Jus’ passin’ through. M’hidin’ from that herd that’s ‘bout two miles from here. M’waitin’ ‘em out.”

Daryl could see the contemplation on your face. With a mere glance at your face, and the way your grip slightly loosened around the gun, the archer knew he was not in any immediate danger. However, he still did not let his guard down. Perhaps you were a master of deception, and you were simply playing him. He did not want to risk it.

“Go.” you finally voiced after a good while of silence. “There’s another cabin about a mile up from here. If you leave now, you’ll make it before the herd gets here.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah. I ain’t riskin’ it. M’not leavin’.”

“Well that’s too damn bad, buckaroo,” you retorted, your gun being raised and aimed at him once more. “I’m not about to risk my s—my life for some stranger. Leave, or I’ll shoot you, I swear to god.”

“Listen, lady. I ain’t—”

Before Daryl could finish his sentence, a loud crash came from another room, followed by a cry. Was he going insane, or did that sound like a little kid? However, before Daryl could do anything, you turned around and bolted towards the source of the sound.

With a frown, Daryl picked up his crossbow and slowly walked towards the room you had disappeared into. He raised his weapon, fully prepared for an attack, but the sight that beheld him had him stopping in his tracks.

A walker laid dead by the window. You were down on your knees, your gun discarded a few feet away from you, and in your embrace was a little boy; the little boy looked no older than three years old. Suddenly, it all made sense to him. The new world gave everyone all the reasons to be extremely defensive, but you had another reason. You had someone you wanted, needed to keep safe.

Your eyes flickered up to meet Daryl’s, and the archer could clearly see how glassy they had become. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that the little boy had almost been that walker’s next meal. If you had not appeared when you had… Daryl did not even want to finish that thought.

“You’re okay, Chris. I got you, Baby. Mama’s got you,” you murmured to the little boy in your arms. You gently picked him up as you raised from the floor and allowed him to bury his face into your neck, his quiet whimpers and sniffles being muffled. You looked back at Daryl, your expression less guarded, but more broken.

At that moment, Daryl had already made up his mind. You were clearly just a mom trying to defend her son from the harsh reality that was the world outside, and you had viewed Daryl as a potential threat, and you had every right to be wary of him. He supposed he did not look like the most warm, inviting person ever, and he definitely did not blame you for wanting him as far away from your son as humanly possible.

“M’from a place not too far from here,” Daryl spoke up after a few moments of contemplating his options. He continued when he noticed he had your full attention. “S’a prison that we converted into a community. It’s safe and secure, with ‘bout fifty people walkin’ around and makin’ due.”

“Is that an offer?” you inquired, your hand rubbing soothing circles over your son’s back. “I mean, I just threatened to kill you.”

Daryl shrugged and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. “I would’ve been more terrified of ya if ya didn’t point yer gun at me, considerin’ the world we live in now.” Daryl’s lips involuntarily twitched into a small smile when he heard your light chuckle. “I only have three questions for ya, though.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Sure. Shoot.”

“How many walkers have ya killed?” he began, studying your expression closely.

It was your turn to shrug. “I don’t know. A lot.”

“How many people have ya killed?”

A small beat of silence passed. “One.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t about to allow him to kill my son.”

Your answers were more than sufficient, considering the questions you were being asked. He was about to say something, until he heard groaning coming from outside. He ushered you down, and quickly sprung into action. He closed the window and lowered himself down against the wall, right next to you. He turned his head to look at you, and saw how you quietly tried to shush your son, who had started fussing once he picked up on the shift in the mood.

“Mama,” he whimpered, instantly being shushed by you.

“It’s okay, Baby. Shh. It’ll be over soon, okay?” You turned your head and looked at Daryl, your expression desperate. “I don’t know if what you’re saying is true or not, but I can’t live like this anymore.” For added emphasis, you motioned towards the window, where dozens of walkers were walking past. “My son isn’t safe like this. Your offer is just a risk I have to take.”

Daryl nodded. “I know ya dun’ trust me, but I’d never endanger yer lil’ one like that. Ya have my word on that.”

A few beats of silence passed. “I’m Y/N, by the way. This is Chris.”

“Daryl,” Daryl told you. “M’Daryl. And I promise m’gon’ make sure ya get yer lil’ boy to safety. Ain’t gon’ let nothin’ happen to him.”

[ma1dita]

asking for trouble

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader words:  7.8k prev -> when the curtains close | next -> as above so below summary: (post-TLT, compliant to TLO) The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all) a/n: non-descriptive mentions of blood and war, main character death. angst. a boyfriend that yall may or may not agree with. one chapter left after this!! i imagined the last scene to play out with luke in a room where they have the immersive exhibits at a museum

—

[august 15th; camp half-blood kitchens, long island, new york — 9:49 pm]

Everything begins and ends with love if we are fortunate enough.

There’s a stillness that fills the air the night before what historians and future demigods alike will deem the Battle of Manhattan. It’s stifling—suffocating in the silence of the camp kitchens as you cover a sheet cake with blue frosting, piping the edges with a steady hand as you check the clock, time always ticking over your shoulder.

Almost lights out.

The circumstances are different now though, and surely no one will be able to sleep soundly tonight. Fate is hard at work unraveling the future, the gods and their spawn alike are preparing for war, yet you’re here putting sprinkles on Percy Jackson’s birthday cake.

It’s the most nonsensical thing you’ve done all week amidst the war preparations, taming the whirlwind of mixed emotions that shook camp in the days before. Perhaps it comes with the knowing that everything will change, and the only way out is through. Only the lucky ones get to go home after this.

“Are you really not coming with us tomorrow?”

Clarisse chuckles at your question from her position against the doorway, crossing her arms and watching you stick candles on the top of the sweet dessert. Her hands flex over her sleeves, tugging at the fabric like she needs to hide away from the rest of the world, “You make it sound like it’s a walk in the park instead of what it really is.”

“Is that why then?” You look up from your piping bag raising an eyebrow at her, “We need all the help we can get, Risse.”

“It’s a death wish. I don’t know how you do it grandma, but the world will keep spinning no matter if 5 shows up or not,” Clarisse mutters, rolling the words around in her mouth, “How do you do it? Knowing that he’ll be there…I-I don’t want Chris to put himself through that again. We’re going to lose anyway—something, if not everything.” 

You know that too.

There’s something ironic about how the children of war won’t be joining the fight of their lives, but Clarisse La Rue is as stubborn as a mule when she doesn’t get her way. Only something truly special would send her running to the battlefield at this point.

“A part of me feels obligated to be there and help fix it, Risse. This is the path I chose.”

She scoffs, her sneakers knocking against the side of the kitchen island. The daughter of Ares is wistful, hesitant… and nothing like herself tonight. You suppose conflict shapes someone like her like how insanity lines the essence of your being. Intangible, but the base of every choice—the driving reason connecting you to your godrents. 

“Yeah, I know that, but I still don’t get it. You don’t have to be here anymore,” she says thoughtfully, moving the cylinders of sprinkles around on the counter by height order, then by colors of the rainbow, “you could’ve chosen the easy life without all of this…I mean, if I ever got out of here alive, I wouldn’t look back.” The statement is sharp in the silence as if she’d attacked you with Maimer. Your eyes meet hers as if there’s a big secret she’s missing out on. You always look at them like that now, with a faraway gaze of a place none of them can reach.

“Who’s to say? Getting old and aging out of here is harder than you think, you know… College, rent, taxes…” you list off with every squeeze of the piping bag, spelling out Percy’s name with white frosting. Clarisse bites her lip, resting her chin against the palm of her hand as she watches you.

When she closes her eyes at night, she often dreams of being home in Arizona, dry heat prickling at her cheeks and dust swirling at her ankles. That’s what her future will look like, she thinks—and she’ll let herself be selfish if it means she gets what she wants. What do you dream of? Do you think about a future for yourself if you’re so worried about saving everyone else’s?

“But you still came back. Is this easier than that?”

Not easier, but familiar. Nothing you ever want comes easy after all. There is a comfort in walking the grounds of a camp counselor job you used to dread instead of filling out job applications; easier to you means fighting with the gods and slaying creatures of old instead of paying student loans and making rent. 

“I think you’ll find out that you do stupid things for love, Clarisse La Rue.”

She’ll never tell you this, but you’re the strongest person she knows. You’ve shown her that strength doesn’t always mean brain or brawn. Sometimes strength is loving someone without expecting anything in return, and the gnawing feeling in her stomach eats at her in an unsatisfying way—like Tantalus reaching for the grapevine, fingertips grazing the leaves for eternity.

Instead, Clarisse wipes down the counter with a Clorox wipe as you make your way towards the door, cake in hand. Tonight, she and her siblings will sleep with the knowledge that they’ll get to see another day. Call her selfish, sure—but that’s how she loves them. Alive.

“I still stand ten toes behind the fact that Michael Yew can be knocked down a fucking peg,” she mutters. There’s a small smile on her face and when she looks up at you, she sees your face is illuminated by moonlight. Clarisse hopes this won’t be the last time—silently praying to her father to extend his hand onto you.

“I’ll see you when I see you, La Rue.”

Whenever that is, she thinks. This is easier than a goodbye. What matters is showing up. What matters is that they try. That’s what she reminds herself as she turns off the big light and heads toward Cabin 5. 

Does any of that still matter in the end if they aren’t alive?

Her siblings are already asleep when she tucks herself into bed despite the music and laughter coming from 12. Light from across the way filters through her window, a warm glow cast across her face leaking through even when she shuts her eyes. It warms her, reminds her of the orange of the stupid shirts they wear, sunsets on Fireworks Beach, and the molten lava that drips down the climbing wall. 

Home might not be what she remembered it to be after all these years. Clarisse decides to sleep on it, hoping that when they wake, there’ll be something worth fighting for.

[august 15th; cabin 12, long island, new york — 10:08pm]

Camp Half-Blood is quiet as you walk through the dark forest, minding your step over the brambles and checking off your mental list of responsibilities before day breaks. The air is especially cool for a summer night, melancholy being your only jacket as you move on auto-pilot. Your fingers tighten around the tray you hold, pushing the door open to Cabin 12 which currently houses most of your campers. It’s lively and bright in here—you would think they’re all celebrating a Capture the Flag win instead of being sent off to their deaths for the greater good.

Tomorrow, they’ll wake up soldiers.

The wood creaks beneath your boots and it’s drowned out by the sound of soft chattering and laughter, a few of them still scuffling over sleep spots, and then—”HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY!”

There are only enough people in here to comfortably fit in a few of the strawberry trucks tomorrow—some went home to their parents to avoid the chaos and some chose not to fight at all. And the ones that remain— all 40 of them, that is, are spread out on the floor in sleeping bags writhing like worms. All the whooping and cheering is accompanied by Michael leading his siblings in song (and Connor and Travis ruining it by chanting CHA CHA CHA!). 

Percy is just shy of sixteen now, but the sheen in his blue eyes still reflects the tranquility of open water and something tender that you saw in him when he came to camp at twelve years old. Later, through mouthfuls of cake and smears of blue buttercream on his cheek, the son of Poseidon looks up at you thoughtfully, “Is this a pity cake?” He tries to make light of the situation by acting like the fate of the world doesn’t depend on his life or death, and you take a deep breath. 

Even demigods fall victim to fate, and the gods still push on. But what of their children that fight for change in the world they set the rules for; their children that fight their battles for them and lose their lives for immortal beings that live forever?

“This is a birthday party, not a pity party, Percy Jackson. There's no pity for the damned,” you chuckle. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t. All of the world’s problems seem so permanent when you’re 15 years old. It’s just fucked up that his will actually alter the course of humanity.

“And if this is the end of the world, I just wanted to make sure we’ve told you happy birthday first.”

“Well thanks,” Percy mumbles over a spoonful of buttercream, face reddening when Annie throws a paper towel roll at his face, “Hey!” It reminds you a lot of when you and Luke would fight in the dining pavilion, chicken tenders and mac n’ cheese flying through the air, and apples cut just the way you like.

You blink. 

It all boils down to him or Luke.

“Wipe your face, Seaweed Brain!”

Percy rolls his eyes, smiling down at his plate regardless of the weight he carries upon his shoulders. The more you want to live the more you have to lose, you think as you brush your knuckles against a spot of frosting he missed. You don’t look at the blonde boy and see a hero of the Great Prophecy—still, you see him as the little boy who was mesmerized by you conjuring strawberries on his plate on his first day at camp, innocent and honest. 

Looking around the room wistfully at that thought, you start to see the memories of their childhood blanket all of themlike ill-fitting clothes; it’s all you can notice. The feeling is so big it swallows you whole. Annabeth is still the little girl who’d rattle off obscure facts from Snapple bottle caps from her time on the road, drawing pictures of buildings with your eyeliner after sneaking into your room. Silena still makes blush out of berry juice and would call you about boy problems as if she’s not a child of the goddess of love herself. Will is still the boy who sings as he lights up fireflies and draws smiley faces on bandages. Katie, the girl who makes flower crowns for your birthday and eats strawberries with you soaked in morning dew. You look around and see scraped knees that you’ve kissed better, sleepy eyes you’ve sung to, and hearts you’ve kept warm—this is your glory, your greatest achievement being the family you’ve found in the woods of the Long Island Sound.

“You see it too?” Grover mumbles, nudging you and you sigh, squeezing his shoulder. Sometimes you forget the satyr is older than you; he stands tall as your pillar of support, unwavering in his promise to protect these kids. 

“We’re getting old, man.”

“You’re only 23. There’s so much left of you,” he deadpans. Laughter comes out of you in waves as you shake your head smiling.

“And what a pleasure it’s been to grow up with you.” 

Grover bids you a good night as you walk up the stairs to your old room, phone in hand while you dial a familiar number. Your boyfriend answers before the end of the first ring.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up!”

Settling against the windowpane near your bed, a soft smile graces your features and you realize he’s not there to see it. It’s always been easy with him—Dex was unbelievably kind, and he had a heart that he’d share without you having to ask. He was unlike any man you’d ever encountered before, and over the past year and a half you found it easy to love him. 

Worst of all, he’s utterly devoted to you. At least every part of you that you were willing to give him, even if it wasn’t all of you per se. Plus, you saw the ring in his desk drawer last week.

It was too…good to be true.

You recognize that this was your way out like Clarisse said, your escape from the turbulence that was your life as a demigod. But it was hard to believe that you were deserving of it. He’d never know of the ichor that runs through your veins, and the life you’d have to leave behind to truly be with him. You suppose every love you’ve ever had was sacrificial. You just wonder if because of that, easy makes it hard to feel real.

Maybe if you survive this one you’d tell him the truth. But for now, he’s rambling in your ear about his sudden work trip upstate. Morpheus and Hypnos are already at work then, redirecting the city dwellers out of Manhattan. It must be later than you thought already and in a few short hours, Apollo will be shining his rays across the Island for what you hope won’t be the last time.

“I wish I was with you right now,” you mutter in a hushed tone, and you hear him laugh breathily through the static sound of the phone. It’s easy to imagine him twirling the telephone cord between his fingers, flopped over the tiny loveseat you went halfsies on with your first big paychecks. The apartment you both moved into after graduation is more accurately a shoebox—but it’s yours, and the love you have for it is immeasurable in comparison to the square footage. You hum, listening to the sound of his voice, “Maybe I can catch you before I go—stop by and say hi before I drive up.” 

He won’t. By morning, you’re not even sure if he’ll remember you—all traces of Greek gods and their counterparts wiped clean from memory until it’s all over, whenever that is. You’re mindlessly walking in circles around your room, bare feet padding against the floorboards. He repeats your name and you realize you haven’t been paying attention, the tail end catching your ear, “Hmm?”

“Or you could come to me. I’m sure your dad won’t mind. It’s time I meet him, don’t you think?” 

And out of anything happening tomorrow, that especially sounds like a nightmare so you make a noise of disagreement, “I can’t. You know I can’t, honey. I’ve got…” your voice trails off as your lilac eyes land on a faded photo strip thumbtacked to your wall, “unfinished business to deal with.” There’s nothing left but inky silhouettes on the sun-damaged paper, two past lovers huddled together. But you know what it’s a picture of. Rye Playland, you and Luke at fifteen, cheek to cheek and covered in wisps of cotton candy.

“Mm. Sounds important. Does your unfinished business have a name?” 

Dex sounds playful now, teasing despite the silence on your end of the line. A beat passes, and then another, and he can hear the sound of your hands rifling through the things in your desk drawer. The dragon scale necklace is cold in your palm. 

For good luck, you think. 

It’s been a while since you’ve worn it—keeping it safe in the only home you and Luke shared, and as soon as it touches your neck, you feel a little less empty inside. It feels like a safety blanket, protecting you from whatever might come next. You almost feel guilty to be relieved.

Thumbing the cord absentmindedly, you mutter, “You don’t even know the half of it, Dex.” 

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me.” Sometimes, it’s like he knows— Dex must be the ivy that grows over the walls you’ve built up around yourself, and he can see glimpses of who you try to hide behind your stone-cold resolve. He wonders if you’ll ever tell him about the names you call out at night— an indistinguishable language he’ll never fully understand. He wonders where you’ve gotten your constellation of scars and where your mind goes when you sit next to the window and stare at the skyline.

Oh, he wonders.

The glow-in-the-dark stars are faded now on the ceiling when you look up at them, fighting to give their last bits of light. You wonder too, if there’s any fight left in you; a bit of Luke always remains—he’s everywhere you look. You can feel him as night falls upon New York, bidding you goodnight before it crumbles tomorrow. 

“Maybe. Good night, honey.”

Dex yawns into the receiver. You know his feet are kicked up onto the coffee table even though you always tell him he shouldn’t, and that his glasses are already off for the night. You really think he could be a nice guy to end up with, all things considered. Dex was the epitome of normal, and after almost two and a half decades of existence, it’s quite evident that you are anything but. 

Normal might be quite nice.

He yawns again. Hypnos must have reached his window, “I love you, you know that?”

“I do. Me too. Good night.”

It’s the truth. 

You love this man and the spaces he’s filled within the chaos of your life. You love all of him, from the perfectly normal way he makes breakfast for you every morning (and laughs when he burns the toast), and takes the train to work at a middle school in Harlem (“6th grade ELA takes a lot out of a man,” he jokes). He picks you up from your job at the therapist’s office downtown if you get out too late, as a gentleman would (though you’ve fought monsters that he’d scream at the sight of). Once upon a time, normal was exactly what you used to wish for.

There’s a moment where your breath hitches and you sink against your pillow and you wonder if he would love all of you—demigod and all. Could he get used to this— summers at Camp Half-Blood with chariot races and gladiator-style fighting, pegasi and harpies roaming the grounds, and watersports with woodland nymphs? Dex never even questions your green thumb or how Pollux made him hallucinate your dead brother when he came to visit (“It’s what Castor would’ve wanted! The full twin-terrogation!” he insists. You convinced your boyfriend he got food poisoning that night). Could you come clean about knowing how to slay a chimera, or why you never get drunk, and have the stamina of an Olympian (the athletic kind, but not too far off from the truth)? 

But it shouldn’t be called coming clean. That makes it sound like you’re ashamed of who you are—which you’re not. You’ve just been hiding this part of you from a normal human that you love very much.

Gods, is this how your dad felt when he was seeing your mom? 

Somehow insanity has always felt bearable—love, however, has always been such an ordeal.

The phone bounces onto your bedspread once you hang up the call. There is no more time to worry about playing a part. Tomorrow, everyone comes as they are—whatever happens after will be a problem if you reach another day. Fate has its way of making itself known, you know that by now. Blinking, you take a deep breath, and very intentionally, with your feet criss-cross applesauce, you pray—for what, you still try to figure out as the minutes tick by. 

Better late than never.

Here at camp, you were always the last one up after lights out, anyway. Tonight of all nights shouldn't be any different.

[august 16th; 34th street and herald square, manhattan, new york — 9:17 am]

“Where do you think you’re going, mister!”

Your little brother flinches, immediately turning tail and walking across the deserted street to meet you in the middle. He’s taller than you now, craning his neck down to look at your angry glower as you thrust a finger into his face, “You’re sticking with me.”

“Jake said he’s taking 9 and 12 to the Holland Tunnel,” Pollux calls out, shuffling his feet and you punch his arm hard, “OW! —It’s what Percy wants.” He swats your hand away for good measure, his arm guards clanking against yours when he dodges another swing at his head.

“We are Cabin 12, you shithead. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second.” Your staff is heavy against his shoulder and Pollux can’t help but let his gaze wander to where Jake Mason and the other children of Hephaestus are waiting for him a block over. Manhattan is a warzone, and the difference between fighting empousai and fighting his older sister right now is very similar in theory—hard to do alone. The tunnel is halfway across the city from the Empire State Building—if something were to happen to either of you…

"M’not here to fight,” he sighs, “with you at least. I need to do my part, sissy.” The old nickname is an arrow through your heart and you grab Pollux’s hand, “I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I couldn’t get to you in time.”

“HEY 12! You coming, or what?”

The two of you look towards the small army down the block, both of your hands intertwined like grapes from the same vine. You’re not sure if you can let go; you’re not sure if your father could lose another child. But Pollux’s face is almost set in stone—he’s never been more sure of himself. Your lip wavers, forcing itself into a stiff smile and he softens at the sight, “I’ll be okay.”

“And if you’re not? Then what?”

He shrugs, “Then… then I’ll get to see Castor.”

You nod, breathing shakily, and flinching when Jake calls for Pollux again, “Well. If you are okay…You come find me. After this is over, you come straight back home to me. You got it?”

Pollux hugs you, hard—the force of all of him sending you sprawling into his arms and it knocks the wind out of you. As the twins have grown, it’s been rare for them to show you any affection. They’d usually recoil or whine about how mushy their older sister is, and each time it makes you laugh. But right now, you stand there gripping onto his t-shirt, breathless; the ringing in your ears gives way to words he mumbles into your hair, “I love you,” he says, in case you didn’t already know. 

Just in case this is goodbye. You take it in for a moment longer, running a hand through his blond hair and cupping his cheeks as you finally step away, “I love you. I’m so proud of you, P. We all are.”

“Haven’t done anything yet,” he grins, backing away slowly, a skip in his step as he nears the small troop of Hephaestus kids. You wave them off, blowing a kiss as they band together and turn in the other direction.

Why is it that you can only be proud of someone if there’s something to prove it?

You think about all 40 of your campers fighting for their lives in the greatest city in the world. The sound of hellfire, roaring monsters, and screams that could only come from your kids. Fatigue wears you down with each swipe of magic towards enemy forces, monsters writhing in pain at your feet, demigods reduced to insanity and blood-curdling screams. It disgusts you even more so that no one can witness the weapon you've been forced to become.

After all, no one knows any of you were there. Life continues on outside of the bubble containing the Battle of Manhattan. And only the ones fighting will be able to remember this. Only you will remember the blood you spilled to wrestle for your destiny.

The rest of the city continues to sleep, safe from the people who swore to protect it.

[august 17th; empire state building, manhattan, new york mount olympus, in the sky above new york??? — 11:22 pm]

Running up 492 flights of stairs was another type of hell you didn’t expect to put yourself through, but it was faster than waiting for the elevator to Olympus. It’s quiet besides the steady rush of blood pumping in your ears, your boots slapping against the tile to reach your friends who might be in danger at the hands of someone you know well. But it’s too late to give up when you’re so close—you realize you’re praying to anyone who’ll listen as you push through the pain of always being a little too late. 

“Ugh!”

Air pierces through your lungs painfully as you trip up a landing, hands clawing against the banister. Have you been running in place this whole time, quick to start but hard to follow? Your lip quivers, eyes trailing up the stairwell faster than your legs can take you. 

Whatever the outcome, you’ll be better for it, you hope.

It’d be easier to give up. To stay away and not watch Percy fight for his life against him. You dry heave as you press your head against the wall, wondering if it’s worth not seeing what will become of this wretched prophecy. It’s hard to survive loving the villain when the rest of the world is dying because of it. Your legs feel like jelly underneath you, and not a single soul in Manhattan knows you’re here—until you feel the strength of an old traveler lift you up and revitalize your soul. Looking down to see your boots retie themselves tightly, the feeling in your chest reminds you of him. Everything leads back to Luke, and you think wherever he is now—Hermes knows that too. 

“Thank you,” you mutter. He’s handpicked your prayer through the tempest that hangs over Manhattan so that maybe your hands will be gentler in smiting his lost son. You find yourself with the nerve to run up the last dozen flights of stairs, pushing past the entryway to see Thalia Grace under a statue of her stepmother, “THALIA!” You barely make it to her fallen form before her free arm tries to push you away from the rubble.

“Get out of here! I mean it—” Thalia spits out your name through gnarled teeth and bones crunching under the heavy hands of Hera. The statue lays over the bottom half of her body, holding her legs down like how one forms a fist, and the daughter of Zeus pushes through pain and millennia worth of her dad’s karmic debt in giving her life—the essence of being a forbidden child still has a hold on her, even now. 

“I’m not gonna…leave you…”

With everything in you, both demigod strength and sheer desperation, you push at the unmoving stone and your fingernails begin to splinter from the pressure. 

But you know what it feels like to get left behind. 

Desolation slowly sets in your bones, a hollow feeling that spreads through your core as sweat rolls down your cheeks, and when you sniff to wipe it away, Thalia’s lip quivers. She’s writhing in pain and everything is coming to an end down the hall from where you stand. 

“We’re so close, Grace. I’m not giving up on you when we’re this close. I need you in there with me so you just hold on, okay?”

The marble is cool to the touch under your moist hands, and her face is fixed in a grimace as she looks up at you and sees you for who you are—another demigod who was never given a fair chance at fate but with a spirit of a hero waiting for the right chance. Thalia coughs before slapping your hand away, “LISTEN TO ME! I’ll be okay. He needs you to be there. We’re almost out of time!” 

You barely register your body moving as you get up and start to run, looking back at Thalia by the time you’re at the top of the landing. There are no words that you could imagine to string together when your eyes meet hers in the distance that separates you two—the feeling of grief bearing down as you both know the end is near and inside those doors.

As you turn back around, you take a moment to wonder if you might’ve had different people in mind for who’s up there waiting for you.

[august 17th; the hall of gods, mount olympus, the sky above new york— 11:48 pm]

Finally pushing through the heavy doors of the Hall of Gods, your eyes burn like salt in a wound as you travel toward the center to see three figures laid out on the marble mezzanine. There’s a cramp in your calf by the time you reach them, your legs giving way as you skid to a stop in front of Luke’s corroded body. The pain doesn’t register for you, split skin going numb as you stare into the eyes of a storm you fell in love with almost ten years ago. 

A stranger is no longer wearing your love’s skin. Percy and Annie’s eyes feel heavy against your back as they watch you sigh in relief, a landslide of emotion rolling off of you when you see he’s still breathing, even faintly, as if he waited for you to make it back to him.

“It’s Luke,” Annabeth chokes out, “the scythe transformed into Backbiter and I knew it was him. He was fighting for us.” Her voice makes you flinch, makes this more real—it echoes as the wind carries it through the hall. Without a doubt in your mind, you know it’s him by the way he looks at you with tired eyes, soft and amber—the light pushing away the shadows and he reaches out for you. His skin is paled by the River Styx, face weathered by the Titan as you gently guide his head onto your lap. A pathetic cry slips from your mouth when you realize there’s more pressure in the fingers he brushes against your cheekbone versus the one holding the blade embedded in his chest. 

Fuck, what do you even say? 

He’s dying right in front of you and you can’t think of a single word to say.

The clock is ticking and every breath of his comes out weaker––he speaks before you can find the words, breathing out, “I missed you,” like it was a relief to say it. And it all comes spilling out like a secret you’ve been safeguarding since the day he left— a mix of your tears and his blood smearing across your cheek as he reaches out to wipe them ever so gently. You find yourself smiling in the face of death itself—smile even if the both of you can feel death’s hand on him saying that time is finally up because the act of meeting each other here in the middle makes the years you’ve gone without him worthwhile. 

The reunion is also the loss; a nasty habit you’ve both fallen into over the years. But this time, Luke’s finally able to give you the world he wanted to see just before he leaves it.

You clutch him close without intending to let go, purple eyes scavenging for confirmation that this is your Luke, the one who pushed you through the brambles of the North Woods, wind in his hair and mischief in his smile. He’s citrus and musk, cunning smiles, something sacred kept within cabin 11, calloused fingers pulling at your t-shirt, and the voice out of tune at nightly sing-a-longs—and he loves you still. 

Loving you was the only thing that never changed.

“Shhhh, don’t waste your energy. The gods will…” you swallow a sob despite yourself, “I…my dad’s going to be here soon. He’ll help us.” There’s a lump in your throat that carries the weight of everything unsaid. Who would help you now that everyone else is getting what they wanted—a brighter tomorrow without the villain? But the prophecy unveils itself so cruelly, and the one who hurt you is the hero in this story, just as he’s always dreamed. It so happens to be at the cost of loving you.

Luke’s eyelids flutter like butterfly wings descending softly. You press a kiss onto his forehead like you used to while waiting for him to fall asleep. The chuckle that rumbles his ribcage is faint against the hand of yours that’s holding him together and the war is finally over and no one even knows that besides the four of you in this room.

“I'm running on borrowed time,” Luke wheezes, “I think my life ended the day I left you.” His thumb weakly traces the tear tracks cascading down your face, and he’s reacquainting himself with every feature of yours while he can touch it—to hold and be held by you after so long feels like drinking up ambrosia, his last bits of strength telling you what you’ve always known. 

Is there a word stronger than love?

One that would explain how close and how far you feel to him at this moment and you don’t want to say the wrong thing but there are no wrong words when it comes to the right person. Hoarsely, through wavering lips, you chuckle, “Then it's time to stop running, baby. I’m here now.”

It’s exhausting to carry the weight of tomorrow in your arms and to know it’ll be made possible only by letting him go. You’re holding him too tightly, claws sinking in to feel—to ground yourself and keep him tethered to this reality, just in case a different answer falls out of the sky. 

But falling with Luke Castellan, falling for him, has been nothing like you wanted. You've said your goodbyes more often than you can count. 

This part is just about letting him go.

“I think I’m doomed,” he laughs, coughing harshly. Blood soaks his airways, retribution for the lives he took. It drips out of his mouth and you still look at Luke like he’s asked you to marry him. What a soft, funny thought. 

Love must be more violent than war, to feel like this—to know he’s wrecked your world and still come out the other side smiling at him like he put the stars in the sky. His fingers are slipping out of yours as you hold onto the knife that keeps him here and Luke mutters, “I’m so s-sorry. You deserved better in this life.” You hear Annabeth sob from somewhere behind you but you can’t look at anything else but his eyes, not daring to miss another moment of him.

“Can’t be all that bad,” you say with a watery chuckle, wiping his mouth with your thumb. There’s more of a mess now with your feeble efforts but the action comforts you more than him; caring for Luke is something you cannot unlearn. 

“This life gave me you. I don’t want to know anything else. Do you hear me?” 

You want Luke to know this—to understand that even if this is how fate has handled the both of you, there is no other hand you would hold but his.

“You’re my whole life, Trouble.”

“I know, angel. I know. It’s always been me and you.”

You and me, he mouths, an echo of himself left to relay the message as his eyes lose their warmth, empty now and unseeing. And then he's home in your arms again as you hold every broken and bloodied piece of him together until he's no more. The parts of him he leaves behind blur into you, rivulets of his lifeforce weaving through your fingertips even when you put pressure against the knife you both hold, hands cradling the spot under his armpit, and to Percy and Annabeth it looks like you're holding his heart, clutching it between your fingers.

Protecting it until his last beat—when he finally gives it over to you. 

It was always yours, anyway. 

Before, in the in-between, and now after, his heart is yours.

Time stops for Luke Castellan, the man born to die, in the Hall of Gods that day— in the arms of his partner and in the presence of his little sister and truest friend. 

Lips against his ear, no one tries to pull you away, even when the gods of Olympus march in expecting a battle to only find a dead hero and a story that needs to be told.

You’ve never seen him so still before. 

Luke’s always been the one with something to say, hands fidgeting to hold yours. Still, you hold his hand even if he can't feel it, still smile even if he can't see you, still whisper words of devotion even if he can't hear it. By the time you feel your father’s hands on your back and hear Percy say, “We need a shroud. A shroud for the son of Hermes,” you imagine that he’s miles away from where he lays motionless, dead weight in your grasp. Nothing can pull you away from the mantra you set to remind him that he’s yours even when he leaves again. Luke’s soul will soon journey where you cannot follow, and you whisper to him in the stillness amidst the noise, “I love you, I love you, I love you…” 

When the Fates come to collect the body, their ancient hands spin around the two of you as they unweave your hold on him. You weren’t given a choice—his material body dissipates in front of your eyes and you swear you feel the tug from deep within your core as you watch them float Luke away. It’s so much different now from when he used to fly around your room with his stupid winged Converse—even the gods avert their eyes when you let out a sob that shakes the ornate hall. Hopelessly you watch, sat down on the marble and unable to move or follow—as if maybe he’d still answer to your sweet nothings, and not leave you hanging once more. You slump against your father’s side, catatonic and at a loss for words—they leave with him, floating away into the distance.

Humanity’s biggest problem and resolution has always been love—this was never a story about the lack thereof.

[august 18th; 12:00 am, death, pre-judgement? — the seven minutes after]

The path that Luke Castellan takes after he dies is most peculiar and unlike any path he’s traveled before. And yes, there have been several times that he’s come close to death—under Ladon’s claws in the Garden of Hesperides, and when he relinquished his physical self by bathing in the River Styx, but neither of those times where he’s cheated his way out can compare to the real thing. 

He once read in one of Annabeth’s textbooks that there are seven minutes of brain activity that wanes in your consciousness before you die. There’s a distinct thrumming in his ears when he comes to, and Luke discovers he’s completely in the dark with no sense of direction and most importantly, no visible way out. The old him, were he still alive—would be panicking by now, short terse breaths and sweat upon his brow. Old Luke would have fidgeting hands and eyes that rocket around for an exit. But this Luke, whoever he is—whatever he is now, finds himself eerily calm. Everything glows in a vignette, and familiar scenes materialize before his vision, a kaleidoscope of color and your shrieking laughter surrounding him in the familiarity of your happiness with him—it feels like lifetimes ago. He realizes he’s smiling. 

Versions of you swirl in the space he stands in, taking up space wherever he can look, wherever he turns—you’re there. 

And he remembers.  

Memory is a choice after all, much like love is. And no one can take that away from Luke Castellan except death itself.

The scene flickers for a moment, eyelashes fluttering against morning light peeking through the windows of Cabin 11.

It’s Luke’s first morning at Camp Half-Blood after the storm that brought him and Annabeth there. You’re standing over him with a half-beaten pillow and a menacing grin that grows as he spits out feathers. It’s his first impression of you, Kool-aid tipped hair and hands shaking with a crushed Redbull can in your other fist.

“Good. You’re still breathing. Wasn’t sure for a sec.”

A voice yells out your name and you make a run for it, barefoot and giggling and looking back at him every few steps—his breath catches in his throat again like how it did on the first day you both met.

The scenery changes and he’s sitting next to you on the dock of Canoe Lake.

“I dare you.”

“No way,” he hears himself say, and then he sees you fling algae at him in ropes, cold and slimy that it makes his voice crack, “He—ey! You’re gonna get us fired and it hasn’t even been a full day since we got the job,” he says, clearing his throat as you bite your lip.

“What’s one last hurrah?”

“You’re always gonna be Trouble, aren’t you?” he says, getting annoyed by the orange fabric that temporarily blinds him. Chuckling, you pull your shorts off and look back at him, eyes glinting in the moonlight and he can’t help but ogle at the rest of you, gulping hard. You catch him staring and he averts his eyes, looking back at the treeline to see if anyone’s come to find you both. A resounding splash echoes in the silence between you and Luke turns back to find your head bobbing visible above the water and not much else.

“I double-dog dare you, Castellan.”

He jumps in.

The dark blue of the water turns into light reflecting the pinks and purples of the sky above Montauk Point at sunset.

“We’re alive! Told you we’d be fine,” you yell, clicking your seatbelt off and jumping out of the car before Luke can even put the hatchback in park. It was his first drive anywhere—you’ve finally graduated from looping around Farm Road.

“Hey wait up!”

He calls out your name, but you’re already kicking up sand as the distance between you grows until he locks up the car and chases after you. You didn’t stand a chance, slipping and sliding in the sand as the son of Hermes quickly grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder as you scream bloody murder. When he sets you down, your arms are looped around his neck and you’re smiling against the pink and tender scar on his cheek.

“Think we can break into the lighthouse before the guards come, angelface?”

The sound of crashing waves turns into chattering cabin counselors and when Luke looks around again, he’s at the Big House, with everyone else pushing their chairs in and walking towards the door. He holds his hand out and you grab it with no words or instruction—like a key nestled within its lock, exactly where it’s meant to be. 

“Last order of business, kind of…” Your dad drones from his spot near the windows. Luke tries to let go of your hand but you don’t let him, “Don’t panic,” you mutter.

“This… fraternization won't become an issue for all of us, will it?”

Everyone’s frozen near the doorway, staring at your intertwined hands. Luke clears his throat and turns toward Mr. D, “I’ll see to it that it doesn’t. Sir.”

You could almost hear a pin drop, and no one knows what to say next—not even Mr. D.

“Yeah, I’ll keep Castellan in line.”

That’s the confirmation everyone was waiting for; a mixture of groans and the clinking of drachma fill the air as Chris holds his hands out and takes his spoils of victory with a charming smirk on his face. Clarisse throws the coins at his head.

“I feel like I should take a bow or something,” Luke snickers into your ear, before placing a kiss against your temple.

You’re still in his arms and still look good in orange, but when he pulls back to look at you again, you’re both hovering above the ground near the dining pavilion. His knees are shaking when his winged Converse flap madly underneath you—a flurry of uncoordinated movement that makes you want to piss yourself.

“You’re lucky I have a strong core, babe,” he grins—and he’s thrilled at the fear on your face as you clutch onto him for dear life, one arm around his abdomen and the other around his neck, both legs latched around his waist.

“I swear to the fucking gods if you drop me, Castellan…”

His right foot jerks in a slightly different direction, making him laugh as you squeak.

“Castellan, huh? That scared, Trouble? Not gonna drop my baby.”

The wind around you whirls like a tornado as Luke tries to show off, getting higher and higher until, “LUKE!”

He catches you by the fingertips again and now there’s sand beneath your feet. You’re still spinning in his arms and his mom is singing along to a song playing on the radio you brought to Westport Beach. May claps lightly and you tug her up with a soft smile, “Come on Miss May! Take your son out for a spin.” Tugging at the damp white t-shirt you wear over your underwear, you take a seat on the picnic blanket and watch them with a smile you haven’t given Luke in years.

“Mother-son dance,” May whispers in his ear, humming a few notes of the wedding march.

He closes his eyes and soaks it all in, slightly swaying.

That thrumming is in his ears again, a steady beat against his chest and he feels it everywhere—a pounding rhythm that cannot be ignored. He opens his eyes and you’re snuggled against each other, tangled beneath the sheets. You’re still asleep and Luke just…watches you before the morning starts (whenever this is) and it all has to end. You’re breathing against his neck, lips slightly agape as warm air brushes his pulse. He moves hair out of your face and you pull him in unconsciously, skin to skin with no atom of space left between you. 

Luke blinks. 

You’re in your college apartment.

He blinks again.

His childhood bedroom.

Again, please.

In Cabin 12.

Please, just one last time.

You’re drooling against his neck in his tiny bunk in Cabin 11 and the noise is getting louder now—a static sound that morphs into the sound of your voice throbbing like a heartbeat, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It’s the last thing he can hear before he has to go.

_ 

“I wanna see your eyes / Is it a crime to say I still need you?” - Adrienne Lenker

[explorevenus]

dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5.1k

tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n

description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....

divider by @cafekitsune !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles. 

That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now. 

A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems. 

Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make. 

Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space. 

Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side. 

That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...

...and the reason he had you. 

For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.

"She's a... what?"

"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon." 

Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly. 

You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you. 

"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?" 

The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment. 

"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.

That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.

He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while. 

With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true. 

You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall. 

He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge. 

See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it. 

It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab. 

Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. 

No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.

Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged. 

His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that. 

Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open. 

Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!" 

He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response. 

His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now. 

It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression. 

"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view. 

He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you. 

"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."

And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.

"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him. 

But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct. 

"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?" 

"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!" 

You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed? 

He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato." 

With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be. 

"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 

Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot." 

"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"

You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.

That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.

This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you. 

"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--" 

"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!" 

Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile. 

How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to. 

"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!" 

But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half. 

"Leon, quit--" 

You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.

Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."

Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him. 

"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner. 

So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs. 

Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh. 

Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?" 

There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him. 

"N-No," You admitted. 

"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?" 

This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him. 

For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat. 

"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"

Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind. 

"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now." 

A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles. 

It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears. 

That just wouldn't do. 

"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?" 

Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you. 

Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.

You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass. 

Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either. 

But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality. 

His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in. 

"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..." 

Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first. 

As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him. 

Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure. 

Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.

Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now. 

In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago. 

Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort. 

Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 30th 2024-January 5th 2025

Welcome to 2025 everybody!! The year of #BuddieCanon!!!

Started working on my favourite fics of 2024 rec, I'm hoping to post it in the next week! And when I'm looking back, I always end up distracted on the way, which is the reason for the ungodly amount of re-read fics in this rec 😅

Little bit unconventional but I'm gonna rec some meta! The Buddie Vers-Switch Theory: a Meta-Analysis is really interesting!

Complete

just like coming home by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (S7, First Kiss | 1,5K | Teen): Buck and Eddie go on their first date. Eddie wears the 'good cologne.' 

when the clock strikes midnight by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (Post-S8 Spec, Christmas | 4K | Teen): Future Buck looked at his watch, then at the clock on the wall, then back to him. “In about five minutes, Eddie’s gonna try to kiss you.” Buck’s heart skipped a beat, his throat drying from back to front. He wetted his lips in instinct. “What?” “And I’m gonna need you to kiss him back.” OR: on christmas night, buck is visited by what seems like the ghost of christmas future. he has a very particular request (that he cannot refuse). 

every corner of this house is haunted by justhockey (NYE, Chris comes back from Texas, Getting Together | 4K | General): And now that love is everywhere, is in everything. It’s worn so deeply into the grooves of his skin that it’s changed the very structure of his fingerprint - is burrowed so deep inside of him that it has rewritten his DNA. His love for Eddie and for Christopher is carved into his bones - etched onto his heart like an epitaph: love lived here. Love left here.

Next in line by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (Getting Together, Post-S6 | 6K | Explicit): “Hold on,” he muttered, putting his finger up and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So you’ve been dating this man for six months, b-” Buck cut him off. “Yes.” “But,” Eddie continued, “he’s not your boyfriend?” “N-No.” Eddie’s frown deepened. He tried to keep it in; he really did. “Okay, well, does he want you or not? Because he’s holding up the fucking line!”

Let me give you my life by paleredheadinascifi (Post-S8S6: Confessions, Getting Together | 6K | Teen): “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I am. Fuck. I am freaking out,” he agrees, lifting his head to look at Buck helplessly. “You’re in my lap.” “I’m so extremely aware of that. You’re not wearing any pants,” Buck adds. A smile tugs at the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I am also very aware of that.” Or, another take on what happened after the couch scene. Eddie *wants*. They're both brave about it.

a lighthouse in the fog by greenbergsays/ @greenbergsays (BT Break-Up, First Kiss | 7K | Teen): The one where Buck wakes up after surgery and realizes that Tommy doesn't meet his emotional needs. The break-up doesn't go quite like he expected.

It Still Gets Cold in Texas by jukoist/ @beforejuko (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to El Paso, Outsider POV, Getting Together | 9K | Mature): Cara Alvarez of the El Paso Fire Department knows exactly two things about her new coworker Eddie Diaz. One: Diaz has a husband named 'Buck', who he left back in LA. Two: Diaz is Extremely Annoying about how much he misses his husband, the aforementioned 'Buck'. Or; Eddie moves to El Paso, and his new coworkers come to certain assumptions. Eddie... does not correct these assumptions.

🔥 If Only In My Dreams by songbvrd/ @songbvrd (Post-S8A, Eddie goes to El Paso, Christmas, Getting Together | 9K | General): Evan Buckley had never been good at knowing when to let go of things. So when Eddie Diaz told him on a chilly Friday afternoon that he had put his house on the market and started packing, Buck told himself that this time, he wasn't going to cling to someone trying to leave him behind. This time, Buck would understand what rejection looked like, and he would let someone he loved walk away with dignity. OR Eddie moves to El Paso a month before Christmas. Buck goes a little bit insane about it.

see both sides by snorlaxer (Post-S7, Mind-reading | 9K | Teen): When Buck overlooks a small injury to the head during one of his shifts, it turns out to be a very big problem once he starts hearing the internal voices of everyone he walks by, including his best friend, who seems to be undergoing a silent life-crisis. As Buck listens more and more to the thoughts that surround him, he becomes increasingly more confused with his own. OR Buck can hear other people's thoughts, and Eddie's are everything and nothing like he expected.

Wherever you find love (make it last all year) by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Canon Divergent, Christmas | 12K | Mature): Buck first met Eddie on Christmas. This is the story of seven Christmases they spend together.

🔥 i can't see you (the light is in my face) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S8A, Eddie goes to Texas, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 15K | Explicit): "Have you even tried making friends?" "God, Abuela, what am I in kindergarten again?" "No, you were much more outgoing in kindergarten. Made friends with the whole class. Teachers too. Now, your only friend is an old lady. If you're really moving here, Eddie, you need to make some friends. You can't just rely on me and Christopher to keep you company." "I know. I know. I think I'm just scared to put roots down. It doesn't feel real yet, you know? Every time I wake up, I keep waiting to see my ceiling from home, walk past Christopher's room on the way to the kitchen, find Buck in the kitchen making pancakes. I don't think I want it to feel real. Plus," he adds with a brittle grin, "the last time I made a new friend, Buck almost broken my ankle." And then slept with said friend, he thinks. "I'm not convinced he couldn't give me a bloody nose from eight-hundred miles away just by thinking real hard." (OR: eddie makes a new friend, she makes some assumptions, eddie spirals about it in his patented life-ruining way)

🔥 all the ashes I've earned by greenbergsays/ @greenbergsays (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Near Death Experiences | 22K | Teen): A horn blares. Buck looks in time to see the truck barreling right for him. Something a lot like relief washes over him. Good, he thinks. At least now he doesn’t have to watch Eddie walk away. -- OR: Spiraling about Eddie's announcement, Buck gets into a car accident and falls into another coma. This is Eddie in the aftermath.

🔥 wake up, boy, you're far from home by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S8A, Christmas, Eddie Sexuality Crisis, Getting Together | 23K | Explicit): Eddie is miserable in El Paso, having seemingly made things worse. Buck is miserable in Los Angeles, without him. When Buck agrees to go home to Hershey for the holidays, everything implodes.

WIP

🔥 Finding Mr Christmas by JJK/@trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Reality TV, Christmas | 9/11 | 52K | Teen): "Welcome to Finding Mr Christmas! You’re all here chasing the same dream, to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and over the next few weeks we’re going to be putting you through your paces to see which of you has the most star quality and that ‘it’ factor that makes you shine above the rest." 🎄🎄🎄 An AU where Buck and Eddie meet as contestants on Hallmark's Finding Mr Christmas competition (and fall for each other).

🔥 Cadence by Nejinee/ @nejineeee (Future fic, Getting Together | 1/2 | 6K | Explicit): When the credits finally finished rolling and Buck was left in the shrouded silence of Eddie’s house, he sighed. He turned his head slightly, feeling Eddie’s unbelievably soft hair brush against his cheek. Eddie’s cologne was all but gone after a day like today. Eventually, he’d need to shower and get ready for bed. Buck wanted to wait a moment; he wanted to sit in this silence a little longer.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 141/? | 454K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 10/? | 63K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

Podfic

[podfic] and we can stay all day by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by trippedandfell/ @trippedandfell (Zoologist Buck AU | 20-30min | Teen): “So let me get this straight,” Hen says, once she’s stopped laughing at him. “Your nerd crush-” “-Evan Buckley,” Eddie miserably interjects. “Your nerd crush,” Hen repeats, waggling her eyebrows. At the kitchen table beside her, Chimney is grinning like Christmas just came early. “Read your drunk tweet and then sent you animal facts via DM?” or: Buck's a zoologist. Eddie's pretty sure he's in love. (Part 1 of zoologist buck)

[Podfic] What's love got to do with it? by Pretzel26 // fic by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (Platonic Boyfriends to Lovers | 1/30 | 10-20min | Mature): "Hear me out," Buck said. "Clearly, both of us are sick of dating other people. And we're a good fit, in pretty much every way that matters. So what if we're not in love? We don't need to be in love to be happy together." Eddie frowned. "So basically, we'd be boyfriends, without benefits?" "Yes!" Buck snapped his fingers. "Like platonic boyfriends! We'd get all the benefits of a relationship and none of the heartbreak." And maybe Eddie had finally lost his mind, or maybe it was from all the alcohol clouding his judgment, but the idea of it didn't sound half as crazy as it should have. *** After Buck’s and Eddie’s dates both end with disasters – proving once again that maybe dating just wasn’t meant for them – they decide to simply settle for each other. If there was one person in the world they'd ever trust with their hearts, it was each other. And who was a better person to date other than your very own best friend?

Re-read

🔥what if i can't have us by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S7E5, Getting Together, Sexuality Crisis | 47K Explicit): In which Eddie is dating Marisol; Buck's dating Tommy, and Eddie has feelings about that, which he simply does. not. understand.

🔥 The Heart Opening Sequence by Leslie_Knope (Post-S3, Getting Together | 34K | Mature): Eddie’s handsome, that’s obvious, Buck clocked that the second he met him. Part of him still can’t really believe that the guy he was so threatened by at first ended up as his closest friend, which is why these weird twinges are so unsettling. Buck isn’t sure if they’re real, for one, these odd flashes of what it would be like to lean over and kiss Eddie while they’re watching a movie or brush a hand over his back while they’re in the kitchen. And for two, it’s so far out of the realm of possibility that it’s barely worth thinking about.

🔥 drink the river dry by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Post Shooting, Getting Together | 32K | Explicit): It wasn’t until they were discussing his discharge paperwork and painkiller schedules that it really sunk in for Eddie that Buck would be staying with him and Christopher. That he would be around 24/7 except for his shifts at work. That he’ll sleep on the couch, where he’s been sleeping for days now to look after Christopher. The worst part is that it’s necessary—Eddie isn’t going to be able to do a damn thing for himself for the next couple of weeks. He’s lucky if he can put a shirt on by himself a month from now. Yeah, that’s going to be a problem. Or: Eddie gets shot, breaks up with his girlfriend, and pines like there’s no tomorrow.

🔥Plus or Minus by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (S5 | 10K | General): “Why are you cleaning out the kitchen? Why is my stuff in boxes?” Eddie slows, then stops. “Figured you’d want it back.” It’s quieter. Pained. When he says it. “I haven’t decided anything. So unless you’re kicking me out—” “Buck. Come on.” He’s not angry or snapping. It’s still quiet, and somehow that hurts even more. He’s resigned and defeated, and Buck is a scooped out, gutted, hollow shell. “I know how this ends the same way you do. You want to be loved, you want to be married. You’re going to leave. Might as well…” His voice cracks before he can finish and get it under control. “Shouldn’t drag it out.” ~ Taylor is offered a job across the country and asks Buck to go with her. Buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is.

🔥 The Pain Will Leave You Once It's Done Teaching You by fruitsdoesnotknow (Canon Divergent, Daniel Lives-kinda | 40K | Mature): “Hi, I’m Buck, a firefighter with the 136,” for now, the thought crashes through Buck, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. “Uh, you’re both welcome to take a tour with us, if you’d like.” Buck awkwardly scratches at his neck, running a hand through his hair, unsure what else to do, and it spurs the man in front of him to take a large step forward up to Buck’s bed. “Eddie,” he says, thrusting a hand to him, and Buck reaches over without a second thought. His whole palm feels electric, it smarts and carries the touch of Eddie, Eddie, that Buck feels it completely. He has no idea what’s happening to him. “Edmundo Diaz, but just Eddie though, uh, no one calls me Edmundo. Right. I’m a new nurse here, at Cedars-Senai. Oh –” *** When Daniel Buckley lives a little longer, Evan Buckley dies a little more. And this is how Eddie Diaz saves him, a little later on.

i find you in everything (but its here you find yourself) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck takes another sig of beer, "she left." "Sorry, man, I know you liked her. Guess where most people are scared of death, a death doula is scared of life." "Wow, that's actually pretty poignant," Buck says. "Didn't know you had it in you." Eddie just rolls his eyes. "Its weird, though, her being scared off by a donor baby." Eddie frowns over at him. "Chris didn't freak her out?"

and if someone asked me if I love you (I'd lie) by forgetmyname/ @kingmieczyslaw (Crack | 10K | Explicit): Eddie has a concussion. Suddenly he can't lie. It would be fine if he wasn't trying his best to not confess his undying love for Buck.

🔥 the kiss that lingers by greenbergsays/ @greenbergsays (Getting Together | 10K | Explicit): 5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark & 1 time he doesn't.

🔥I'm Hearing Secret Harmonies by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Canon Divergent, Witch Eddie, Coffeshop AU | 18K | Teen): When the firefighter walks into Eddie's coffeeshop, Eddie immediately knows two things about him: he's not human, and he's the love of Eddie's life. Oh, he knows a bunch of other things too, obviously. He's about thirty, a few months younger than Eddie himself. He has a scar on his throat, like he got stabbed there, and one of his legs has some metal rods in it that must have come from a bad injury. The guy doesn't know he's not human, which is a tricky thing to figure out, but Eddie's almost positive. Most of the non-humans he knows have always known they aren't people, but there are exceptions, and they tend to carry themselves differently. The firefighter moves like he knows he doesn't belong, but not like he knows why. Like he's afraid of taking up space, afraid of being noticed. As if Eddie is even capable of not noticing him.

you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad by bellabrady (Post-S6, Getting Together | 5K | Not Rated): Or: Eddie is annoyed with Buck for being so very kissable but his drunk self isn't the best at phrasing things.

🔥 This May Be Practice, But I'm an Experienced Idiot by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Fake Dating, kinda, Getting Together | 10K | Teen): Buck overhears a conversation between Eddie, Hen, and Chim and misunderstands it all. Or, the one where Buck thinks Eddie’s only asked him on a date for practice.

[sturnslutz]

the beginning

first actual intro fic of this au/series ts??? a/n at the end of this

the second you rolled down the window, that salty cape cod air hit you straight in the face. it smelled like sunscreen, seaweed, and nostalgia—if nostalgia had a scent—and it made your chest tighten in that weird way. not bad, just… like something was about to happen.

“i swear to fucking god,” solina said from the backseat, practically crawling over your shoulder, “if matt got taller again, i’m throwing hands.”

you snorted, flicking her forehead. “you say that every summer, lina.”

“and i mean it every time, pearl.” she shot back, grinning like a maniac.

your mom gave you a look in the rearview. “can we please not start the violence before we get there? at least wait until we’ve said hello.”

“no promises.” solina muttered.

the car crunched to a stop on the familiar gravel driveway, and just like that, you were back. the sturniolo house looked exactly the same. white paint that needed a touch up, blue shutters that chris claimed gave it “character” and the porch swing that was one gust of wind away from falling off.

on the porch stood marylou and jimmy, smiling like you’d never been gone. and leaning against the railing, and arguing about god knows what, were the triplets.

matt was right there. hair longer than last summer, sun catching on the tips. he had that lazy smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing, and when his eyes caught yours, something in your stomach flipped so violently you thought you might actually die.

“YO!” chris yelled, hopping over the railing because of course he did. “pearl’s finally here. we were about to eat the cake without you.”

you grinned, stepping out of the car. “you would, asshole.” “damn right,” he said, pulling you into a hug that nearly knocked you over. “you look different. like, in a hot way. don’t make it weird.”

“it’s already weird,” you said, shoving him, but you were laughing. nick was next, hugging you tight and whispering, “bitch. bitch. you look insane. matt’s gonna pass the fuck out.”

“nick, shut the fuck up,” you hissed, cheeks burning. he just winked and skipped off to help solina with bags, leaving you to deal with marylou, who immediately smothered you like the queen she was.

“happy belated birthday, sweetheart! we’ve got cake, we’ve got dinner, and nobody’s allowed to make plans tonight. it’s your night, okay? i’ve been waiting for this all week.”

you hugged her tight, smiling into her shoulder. “missed you guys.”

“missed you too, honey,” she said, patting your back. “and wait ‘til you see the cake. pink frosting, just how you like it.”

your mom came around the car, arms full of bags. “marylou, you didn’t have to go all out again. she’s already spoiled enough.”

marylou waved her off. “oh, hush. she only turns eighteen once.” “and we are celebrating all weekend.” your mom said, nudging you. “i brought basically all of her swimsuits, just in case anyone forgets she’s now someone i have to worry about.”

“mom.” you groaned.

“what? i’m just saying. you look great, hon.”

matt hadn’t said anything yet, just watched you with that unreadable expression. you walked up to him, tilting your head.

“hey.”

his smile widened. “hey, birthday girl.” he pulled you into a hug, one hand resting lightly on your waist, and yeah… maybe he had gotten taller. “missed you.”

you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. “missed you too.”

solina cleared her throat dramatically behind you. “so, are we going to stand here all day or what?”

jimmy laughed. “let’s get your stuff inside. and nobody’s touching that cake until after dinner, capisce?”

“we’ll see about that.” chris said as he hopped through the house, making his way to the kitchen.

“yeah, we know fatass. see he’s already running to the kitchen, even though he was just there. 10 minutes ago.” he yelled out before talking to you, solina and matt.

lina laughed. “is nate coming over today?” she asks as she holds the door open for the rest of you. matt gave you a weird look before looking back at her. “yeah, probably after dinner. kid only wants the cake.”

after some time getting unpacked and eating dinner, (not without the unmistakable tension between you and the boys,) it’s time for cake. nate shows up record time after chris texted him that they’re done with dinner, a knock erupting loudly against the front door. “open up!”

solina’s face lit up and looked at you and you smiled. “go say hi,” you mouthed and she shook her head. “i can’t.” she mouthed back and you rolled your eyes.

nathan came running in, probably a bit drunk, and wrapped his arms around you from around the chair, smothering your hair in kisses. “pearl! so good to fuckin’ see you, kid.” nate’s boston accent was very obvious , even though he literally lived in cape cod.

you smiled as you patted his arms. “hey nate.” you looked up at solina, and she didn’t have the best expression. you never really see this face from her, but when she noticed you looking at her, she gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

the cake finally came out, and it looked like something out of a bakery window. pink frosting piled high, way too many sprinkles, and your name written in big, loopy letters. marylou really did go all out, and it was so obnoxiously perfect that you almost wanted to cry.

“okay,” nate said, leaning over your shoulder, “if you don’t eat that corner piece, i will.”

“try me.” you shot back, smacking his hand to which he gasped at, exaggerating.

“friends, friends,” chris said, sliding up next to you and tossing an arm over your shoulders, “no need to fight. i’m happy to feed pearl. with my own hands, if necessary.”

you blinked. “what the hell.” nick laughed so hard he nearly choked on frosting. “you’re disgusting.”

“what?” chris grinned, leaning into you a little. “just being a gentleman.”

you elbowed him, but he didn’t move. “you’re definitely something.” he winked. “you’re welcome.”

matt watched the exchange from across the table, spoon in his mouth, eyes narrowed just slightly. you caught it, the flicker of something, and he quickly looked away, back to his cake like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

your stomach twisted.

you weren’t sure if it was from the sugar or the way matt kept not looking at you.

later, when the kitchen was a wreck of empty plates and a table full of crumbs and pieces of cake, everyone migrated to the back porch, sprawled out under the string lights. the air was cooler now, but still humid.

nick pulled out his phone, camera already rolling. “alright, truth or dare, bitches. no backing out.”

“absolutely not,” your mom called from inside. “you guys can not break anything this year.” marylou followed it up with, “and no skinny dipping! please. last year was enough.”

solina snorted. “that wasn’t even us.”

“it was chris.” your mom corrected.

“guilty.” chris grinned, not even pretending to be sorry.

nick flopped onto the porch steps, eyes on you. “pearl, truth or dare.” you groaned. “you’re really coming for me first?”

“obviously.”

you glanced at solina, who gave you a do it look. matt was sitting nearby, stretching out his legs, eyes flicking to you over the rim of his soda. chris was eyeing you while he moved from his seat with nate, next to you.

“fine. truth.”

nick smirked like he’d been waiting for this. “who do you think is the hottest triplet?”

immediate chaos. chris gasped dramatically, matt nearly spit out his drink, and even jimmy, from inside, yelled, “i don’t wanna know!”

you laughed so hard you nearly doubled over. “nick, you bitch.”

“answer the question, pearl.” solina said, eyes wide, eating this up.

you looked at all three of them. chris, grinning like an idiot, leaning in like he already knew what you’d say, matt, quiet, watching you, waiting.

“okay,” you said slowly, dragging it out, “it’s definitely not nick.”

“rude!” nick clutched his chest like you stabbed him.

you pretended to think, tapping your chin. “hmm. it’s a tie.” chris raised a brow. “between?”

“chris and matt.” you said, shrugging like it meant nothing, but your pulse was fucking insane.

nate and nick were already dying laughing. “oh my god, this is better than i thought.”

matt just looked at you, something in his eyes you couldn’t quite name.

chris bumped your leg with his. “so what you’re saying is, i’ve got a chance.”

you leaned in, close enough that he froze. “not a big one.”

his jaw dropped. “damn.”

“harsh,” solina cackled. “but fair.”

you met matt’s eyes again, and this time, he didn’t look away.

you couldn’t either.

a/n : ok how do we feel… what team are u on? do we like solina? nate? what’s ur thoughts? SPILLLLL

divider creds: @strangergraphics

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @ilovedanielcaesar @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattssslutbby @mattybsgroupie @mattysketchup @m11rx @slut4brunettes @trevorsgodmother @chrislova @slut4christopherr @sturns-mermaid @oopsiedaisydeer @conspiracy-ash @p1mpactivities @sweeetbabysblog @brooklyncameron @chrisgetsmewetter @h3arts4harry @jetaimevous @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @raesturns @sturnsrecord @matteatmeout @luvvs4chriss

[sturnsblogs]

PROVE IT.

BEFORE READING THIS BLURB IS BASED OFF OF THIS

—

Chris was obsessed with you. So, so in love. And he didn’t care that you two were toxic—violently in love, crashing into each other over and over like neither of you had learned your lesson. The fights were brutal. Screaming until your throats were raw, shoving, pushing, sometimes even throwing things. And then, always, the apologies that felt like religion, whispered between kisses and tangled limbs, his hands gripping you like he needed you to breathe. It was sick, it was unhealthy, but you couldn’t let each other go. You never would.

Because when it was good? It was perfect. The kind of perfect that made it impossible to walk away, no matter how much sense it might’ve made. The sex was insane, the kind that left you shaking and breathless, but it wasn’t just that. It was the way he touched you when no one was looking, the way he softened when you weren’t screaming, when you weren’t pushing and pulling. The way he owned you. And you owned him—completely.

And he made sure everyone knew it.

His Instagram might as well have been a fan page for you. Every picture, every story—just another way to remind the world that he was yours. And you were his.

“This woman is a goddess.”

“She’s so beautiful.”

“I’m so lucky.”

It was always things like that. Pictures of you in his hoodie, half-asleep in bed. A candid shot of you laughing, taken from across the room. Even a blurry photo of you walking ahead of him, captioned with, “Imagine waking up and not being with her. Couldn’t be me.” He didn’t care if people rolled their eyes. He meant every word.

And you? You pretended it didn’t affect you, but deep down, you loved it. You loved how obsessed he was. You loved knowing he couldn’t go a second without thinking about you.

Like right now.

You were curled up on your bed, highlighter in hand, textbooks scattered across your lap as you tried—really tried—to focus on the upcoming test you had. Your phone buzzed beside you, lighting up with a message from Baby 💕.

You clicked it without thinking, expecting something sweet, maybe a stupid meme.

“One image attachment.”

Your brows furrowed as you waited for it to load. And then—

Your eyes widened.

Chris had sent you a picture of himself, sprawled out on his bed, shirt pulled up just enough to expose the sharp lines of his tummy. His sweatpants were pushed low, his cock resting heavy against his stomach, thick and hard, the tip flushed red. But what really got you? The bold, dark letters of your name scrawled across the side of his length in black marker, the ink slightly smudged like he had been impatient, rubbing against his palm.

Your stomach twisted, something warm curling inside you.

“Christopher.”

You sent the text, shaking your head, trying so hard to act unaffected, but the heat rushing to your face betrayed you.

His reply came instantly.

“You own me, mama.”

Cocky. Smug. So self-assured. Because he knew. He knew you were flustered. Knew you were gripping your phone tighter than you should, pressing your thighs together without thinking.

Your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You could just ignore him. You should ignore him. But where was the fun in that?

“Prove it.”

Not even a second later, your phone rang.

—

A/N- HAH I LOVE THIS.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @jimmasterflashh @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @cass-sturn

[mattsnight]

Hot shower - Matt sturniolo

Warnings; shower sex, use of y/n, flirting, eating out, dick sucking… tell me if i forgot anything :-)

Summary: in which y/n wants to take a shower but her hot best friend walks in.

(English is not my first language so sorry if i write something wrong💖)

NOT PROOFREAD😔

Life as a nurse can be difficult. Today i tried helping a patient with dementia. I’ve been taking care of her for around 5 months and i thought we were getting along well. I was wrong. When i walked into her room she gave me a mad look and i asked her what happened. She didn’t really give me an answer, but she did yell at me for ‘stealing her puppy’, which i didn’t. I told her she’s been in the hospital for some time and that she never even adopted a puppy. She didn’t believe me and started throwing her food at me.

My colleague Anna took over my shift and send me home.

Right now im sitting in my car, covered in whatever disgusting vegetables we serve. The only thing i can think about is a hot shower.

After a while i arrive at my house, which i share with my triplet friends Nick, Matt and Chris. I’ve known them since Highschool and we immediately became best friends. Ever since we met i’ve had a slight crush on Matt. Obviously i didn’t tell anyone since i knew they would spill it right away.

I walk into the house to be met with Chris. He looks at me confused. ‘Bad day?’ He asks. All i can do is nod before walking off to the bathroom i share with Matt. I strip out of my clothes, get my hair out of the ponytail i wore and wipe off my makeup.

The shower is hot. I wash off all the disgusting food that was thrown at me by the lady. For a moment i feel no worries… just calmness.

Matts pov;

I was busy streaming all day in my room and i need a shower so fucking bad. First i decided to clean up the extreme amount of Pepsi cans on my table.

After some time i walk into the bathroom, just to notice my best friend y/n is in there behind the curtains. She doesn’t notice me coming in. ‘Oh fuck-‘ i say.

‘Matt?’ She opens the curtain a bit. I force myself to look away, respecting her. But i can hear a chuckle escape from her mouth.

“Sorry, didn’t know you were in here…” i say as i start to walk away.

“Wait-“

I turn around to see her now fully naked in-front of me. My eyes trail over her body as she just stands there, biting her lip.

Y/n’s pov;

Before i know it Matt’s lips crash against mine. It’s passionate and enough to make me absolutely go insane. He takes off his clothes before pushing me back into the shower, making sure i don’t fall with. My back is against the cold tiles as his lips trail from my mouth down my neck.

Pathetic whimpers leave my mouth. I can’t hold back. His large hands land on my hips as he lowers the kisses.

“Please matt…”

“Please what? Can’t understand you, princess.”

“You know what i mean!”

“You’re right, but i want to hear the words come out of your mouth.”

My body reacts to that sentence immediately, feeling very needy for every bit of pleasure he can give me. I don’t want to beg for it, but i know he won’t so anything until i do.

“Please… fuck me matt…” i say, slightly embarrassed. He smirks as he buries his face between my legs. His strong arms hold me tight against the wall. The knot in my stomach is already about to explode and i just can’t hold back. My hand goes into his hair, gripping it and pulling him closer. His tongue moves against my clit, getting me closer and closer to the edge.

“Matthew… please. Please let me cum…” i whimper as he enters me with his middle finger. At first his movements are slow but he picks up the pace in no-time. Another finger is added, which sends me over the edge.

“Fu-uck…” i hiccup as i come all over his face. My eyes roll into the back of my head, letting myself enjoy the full pleasure. He smirks as he removes his fingers slowly, prolonging the orgasm. My legs tremble.

There’s a moment of silence before matt makes me sit on my knees in-front of him.

“Can you do this for me?” He asks.

“Do what exactly?” I say, teasing him back like he did to me. After all.. i can’t just be boring and suck him off immediately.

“Suck my cock, sweetheart. Let me receive the same pleasure i gave you.” He says as he pulls my face closer to his cock.

I let out a sigh before licking his slit. Moans escape his lips. It’s very rare to see him this vulnerable. Most of the time he’s the toughest guy in the room.

His hips move against my face, making his dick enter my mouth. He is fucking huge.

I gag on his cock as he thrusts into my mouth. His fingers are in my hair, slowly running through it as a sign of comfort.

“Doing so good for me… im close.” he moans.

“Cwowwmm wworr mewww.” You hum against his tip sending him over the edge. His hips stop moving as he lets go. Orgasms after orgasms fades over him. He pulls away from me, panting.

“Such a good girl for me..” he says before turning back to me.

“You want to come all over my cock?” He asks, i nod.

His dick lines up at my entrance before he slowly enters me, stretching me out. Loud moans escape both our lips as he thrusts faster. My body shakes against his.

‘Oh god baby.’ He moans.

‘Im already close!’ I yell.

He slams into me over and over again until we both fall apart against each other. It’s almost fascinating seeing how fast people can come.

After we both recover from our high we get out of the shower.

“That was so good.. thank you.” I say, smiling at him. He smiles back at me as he plants a soft kiss on my head.

We both dry ourselves and change into some comfy clothes before walking into the living room where his brothers, also my friends, are sitting. They look at us with disgust.

“Oh matt please! Please let me comee!” Chris mocks from what i moaned earlier. Embarrassment fills my face as nick and chris both die from laughter.

“Such a good girl for meeee.” Nick now mocks matt.

“Uggghhhh im so cl-“ chris says before getting cut off my Matt.

“Oh shut up guys. You’re just jealous i can get amazingly pleased and you can’t.”

I chuckle as nick and chris roll their eyes, going back to their phones. We ended up ordering some takeout before doing the same thing all over in matt’s bedroom.

[worldlxvlys]

speed

chris sturniolo x singer! reader

warnings: smuttt, fingering, oral (male receiving), no actual p in v

a/n: this is for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writing challenge !! hope you enjoy <33

la da da da

da da da

the crowd went crazy after hearing only the first few chords of the unreleased song that i’d been teasing for weeks.

considering the fact that they’d never heard the full song, i found it funny how many people genuinely loved the song.

if i told you how much i think about her

you’d think i was in love

i looked out to the sea of people in front of me, growing slightly nervous at the thought of every single one of their attention being on me.

i had definitely performed before, but never in front of a crowd of people this large.

and if you knew how much i looked at her pictures

you would think we’re best friends

my nerves eased a little when i actually looked at the crowd. my eyes bounced from person to person, seeing bright smiles, tears of happiness, and people singing along.

deciding to pretend as though i wasn’t singing in front of an insane amount of people, i let myself enjoy the song.

as the words flew past my mouth and into the microphone, i thought about how excited chris was when i first played the song for him.

right before i got to the chorus, i looked over to the VIP section, immediately catching his gaze.

CHRIS’S POV

when i caught her gaze, there seemed to be a glint of something in her eyes, but i couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

although her face held a sweet smile, i could tell she was about to do something that would have me struggling to contain myself.

i’m starin’ at her like i wanna get hurt

and i remember every detail you have ever told me

so be careful, baby

she began to jump around on stage, her energy and happiness becoming contagious as everyone around her seemed to bask in it.

any nerves that she may have had at the beginning of the song easily washed away as she sang.

i’m so obsessed with your ex

yeah, i’m so obsessed with your ex

her hair bounced on her shoulders as she moved her head to the beat. she looked majestic, the stage lights giving her body a soft glow.

she’s got those lips, she’s got those hips

the life of every fucking party

it was almost as those she was singing about herself, her hands running up and down her body, my eyes following them.

the confidence she had was evident in her stage presence, making her seem all the more attractive.

she laid on the ground on her side, running her hands down her body while she danced seductively on the floor.

there was something so enticing about it, she made such a simple action look so alluring.

she made her way through the song, the adrenaline seeming to course through her as she bounced around on the stage.

she showed the love and passion that she had for music through a wide smile, her eyes shut as she soaked every moment in.

the further she got into her set, the hornier i got. i tried to stop myself, but my mind was consumed with the things i could do to her in her dressing room. i just needed ten minutes.

her tight skirt inched up her legs slightly with every jump, causing the curve of her ass cheek to peak out.

her low-cut top gave the perfect view her cleavage, the pendant of her gold necklace hanging just above where her tits met.

at this point, i was so hard that i was genuinely in pain. luckily for me, all eyes were on y/n, i didn’t have to worry about anyone noticing my raging hard-on.

“hi everyone!” i heard her speak into the mic, making my head whip up to her direction.

“i hope you guys are enjoying the show so far!” she was met with a roar of applause in response, causing her to let out a light chuckle.

“we’re going to take a brief, ten minute intermission, so go to the bar and grab a drink or snack, and we’ll be back soon!” she spoke, giving a light wave before walking off of the stage.

looks like i got my ten minutes.

“going to the bathroom!” i yelled out to nick and matt, bringing a hand down to cover my crotch as i sped walked to the backstage area.

i flashed the security guard my backstage pass before rushing to y/n’s dressing room.

i knocked on the door loudly, waiting to hear her answer before opening the door.

“oh, chris!” she spoke as i closed and locked the door behind me.

she rushed over to me, a bright smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“i’m so fucking proud of you, baby. you’re so good out there” i spoke into her neck, pressing slow kisses to her neck.

she tilted her head to the side, letting out a small sigh as her fingers slid up to my hair to pull on the brown strands.

“such a good girl for me” i sighed into her neck, “you deserve all of the love” i spoke against her skin.

i moved my head to her chest, leaving kisses to the exposed skin.

her hand quickly found my crotch, beginning to palm me through my pants. “want some help with that?” she asked me.

“i- yes, please” i spoke, my breathing picking up as she sunk onto her knees in front of me.

she pulled my pants and boxers down with one tug, wrapping her hands around my thighs as she licked up the small bit of pre-cum that leaked out of my tip.

she swirled her tongue around it before taking me into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks.

“fuck” i moaned, my hand finding its way to the back of her head.

i attempted to control myself, refraining from moving my hips.

she momentarily pulled her mouth off of me to say, “c’mon baby, fuck my mouth” before moving to take me fully into her mouth again.

i did as she said, beginning to buck my hips into her mouth, holding her head steady.

she glanced up at me through her lashes, eyes filling with unshed tears as i pushed myself in and out of her warm mouth.

i stared down at her tits, watching as they bounced harshly from the force of my hips against her body.

when she caught my gaze, she pulled the straps to her top down to expose her boobs to me.

“oh my god, yes. feels so good” i groaned out when her nose hit my pubic bone, her head shaking side to side.

there was a sudden knock on the door behind me, catching me by surprise as she continued to suck me off.

“5 minutes until you’re on!” a voice said, leaving as quickly as it came.

i watched as her hand disappeared under her skirt, causing her to begin to moan around me.

i could hear the wet sounds of her fingers inside of her pussy, my head flying back at the thoughts running through my head.

i twitched inside of her mouth, causing her to pull away from me. her mouth remained connected to me by a long string of spit while she began to twist her hand around my length.

“ come on chris, you gonna cum for me? all over my tits?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

i was only able to nod my head as my eyes rolled back, thick ropes of my cum flying onto her chest.

she stood up onto her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she grinned at me.

without another word, i turned us around so that her back was facing the door.

i hooked a hand under one of her knees, lifting it up with one hand, the other finding its way under her dress.

“let me return the favor” i spoke as i moved her panties to the side and pushed two fingers into her entrance.

“fuck, chris” she squeaked as her mouth hung open, her head falling back into the door.

her tight walls squeezed around my fingers, clamping down onto them.

there was a pounding on the door behind her, making her let out a yelp in surprise.

i covered her mouth with my hand, while she moaned into it, gripping my forearm harshly.

“2 minutes !” the voice yelled through the door.

she pushed her hips down to meet my movements, desperately chasing her orgasm.

i circled my thumb around her clit, enjoying the way she shuddered under my touch.

her head fell forward onto my shoulder, while her fingers threaded through my hair. she tugged on it harshly, eliciting a deep groan from me.

“you close baby?” i asked as she began to clench around my fingers again.

“yes, please let me cum. i’m so close, chris” she moaned out as her face scrunched up in pleasure.

“let go, princess. make a mess on my fingers”

she looked so pretty like this, her messy makeup running down her blissed-out face.

her legs began to shake, hips jerking up involuntarily and her back arching off of the door.

she let out one last cry of my name before letting go, coating my fingers in her pleasure.

“here, let’s get you cleaned up” i spoke, wiping away the smudged makeup on her cheeks.

i helped her fix herself up, before doing the same for myself.

once we deemed ourselves presentable, i opened the door. i was met with a member of the stage crew, who seemed to be preparing to knock on the door.

he gave us a knowing look before speaking, “you two couldn’t have waited until after the show?”

the two of us glanced at each other, giving the man blank stares.

“you” he pointed to y/n, “need to go get your makeup touched up” he spoke, waving over her makeup artist.

“and you” he pointed to me, “need to go back to your seat. stay away from her until after the show, got it?” he asked as he placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me towards the direction i originally came from.

when i tuned back to look at y/n she was already getting whisked away by her makeup artist.

i made my way back to my seat, meeting my brothers’ gaze. “so, you enjoy your bathroom break?” nick asked, brows raised.

“yeah, it was fine” i spoke, keeping my eyes forward to avoid his gaze.

“really? cause you just came from the opposite direction of the bathroom” matt pointed out.

before i could say anything in response, the crowd broke into a round of loud applause.

i watched y/n walk on stage, lightly smirking at the way her legs lightly shook with each step.

“so subtlety just isn’t your thing, huh?” nick asked.

“never was going for subtlety, just speed”

collide (matt version)

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[admirationandromantics]

Warm Water Helper

Josh Washington x reader

My first Josh x reader fiction. Hope you guys like it, I love writing about this mentally insane hot man.

Word count: 1,2k (Unedited)

“There’s no hot water!!” Sam shouts from the bathroom. Josh gives up on the fire, standing up and fixing his belt. 

“Yeah sorry, I’ll go fix it now” he shouts back, breathing heavily out afterwards. She moves down half of the stairs, asking if he needs help. Ashley answers for him. 

“This lazy fucker should go with him, just you check the water in 10 minutes. Get ready!” she points at me.

I give Ashley scowl, and drag down her fingers which are still pointing in the air. Chris gives me a look, and Josh is still standing still, waiting. 

“Okay, 10 minutes” Sam exclaims, walking upstairs again. I lean towards Ashley, coming close to her ear. 

“You’re gonna pay”

“Hey, this is good for you AND me, we both get ‘alone time’” She says, leaning away and signalling to Josh who’s still waiting. 

“Fine”

“Don’t go too far lovebirds, you never know what might happen down there!” Chris shouts as we walk towards the cellar door. While walking, I notice a slight cut on Josh’s finger, I abruptly grab his hand. 

“What have you done?” 

He just looks surprised down at his hand, apparently he hasn’t noticed before. 

“Hmm, must’ve happened when I tried making the fire” he answers. It seems true, though he has been feeling a bit off since we came. I get why. When we’re halfway down the stairs I stop him. Taking hold of his bicep and turning him around to face me. 

“Hey Josh, I think we need to talk”

“Whatever about?” he asks, grabbing hold of my hand and leading me further down the basement. I decide to tell him, even though I really wanted to do it face to face. 

“I’m sorry about what happened last year, had I known how it would turn out I wouldn’t have, you know…” 

“You weren’t in on the prank”

“No, but if you had been there and not with me, maybe things would’ve turned out differently”

He looks down, still holding my hand and squeezing it a bit. Letting his thumb rub over my knuckles. 

“I’ve learned that we can’t think like that”

“But-”

“We cannot change what happened, we just have to find a way to live with it. I don’t blame you for anything that happened.” We continue down the stairs, eventually coming to a dark creepy room. The cold air hits me, and I immediately shutter. He notices and drags me into him. His arms around me, and my face against his chest. I try to make out words, but they come out as small squeaks since he’s squeezing me so hard. 

“Josh, I’m here for you, you know that right?” He loosens his hold, backing away a bit so I can see his face. 

“I know, and I’ve missed you so much. I should’ve called or texted or something” he looks down, one hand sliding from my face to my waist. 

“I know you went through much, I understand why things didn’t happen” I answer him, carefully cupping his face and making him look at me. He lets out a heavy breath, taking my hand in his and beginning to walk again. 

“You know-” he starts

“I’ve been wanting to see you again” he turns his head to the side, and the signature boyish smirk is plastered on him. 

“Oh really?” I play along, the mood feeling lighter. 

“Yeah, not being able to go all the way, and having to wait a whole year to try again”

“So this whole plan was a setup to get me here?” 

“Maybe”

I laugh as he stops and hands me a flashlight. 

“Before we get any further, we need to get Sam her hot water. Light this here” he smiles and points to some type of machinery. 

“Oh, so we’re going further?” I playfully ask, grazing his neck with my fingers while he clicks some stuff. 

“Oh you have no idea what my plans are” he says, turning on a red light. 

“Can you turn that switch over there?” he points, and I manage. The light beside him instantly becomes green, and he hoists himself up. 

“We did it!” he exclaims holding his arm up for a high five. Just as I’m about to give it to him, his hand slides under mine, making me crash into him, lips meeting his. After the initial shock, he presses deeper into me, parting my lips and letting his tongue in. My arms, already over his shoulders from his stunt, grab hold of his hair. His arms move down below my waist and I jump. He easily catches me, hands grabbing my thighs. He moves towards the concrete wall, slamming my back into it. I love that he’s not aware of his own strength. I let out a gasp upon the impact, making him pull back. 

“You okay?”

“I’m not made of glass” I answer, pulling him towards me and capturing him with my thighs. 

“I’m going to test that theory later.” My body grows hot, my core starting to ache. He moves his face down to my neck, leaving small love bites and kisses. I make out small moans, grabbing him tighter. God, how I’ve missed him. 

Before we can get any further a sound is heard, and we immediately stop. Like a box was knocked over. 

“Did you hear that?” Josh asks. I nod in reply, careful not to make any sounds. He puts me down silently, and we make our way towards the stairs. I look around while walking, spotting wires, small lights and a long tube-like thing laying on the floor by another door. As we’re approaching the stairs, a man with a mask and cloak jumps us, screaming. We both shout, Josh grabbing my hand firmly and running up the stairs as fast as we both manage. I instantly slam the door, trying to get it open. 

“I won’t fucking open Josh!!” I scream, trying the handle again and again uselessly. 

“Shit shit shit” Josh exclaims, pushing me behind him as the figure makes its way up the stairs. I still try prying open the door. 

“Heeey” I hear. 

“What?” I whisper, as Josh relaxes. 

“Heeeeeeeey” I hear again, the man waving his arms around. Chris. It’s Chris. Josh starts laughing, but I’m still not over the shock. 

“Why would you do that?” I ask him angrily, making him snicker. Josh finds the key and opens the door. Chris starts explaining. 

“Well, I considered not doing it, since when I was done getting the costume on you guys seemed pretty busy.” He winks at Josh, and I roll my eyes. 

“But think about it this way, there were probably many rats there, a couple of insects, dusty, the whole package. I saved you guys, hygienically.”

I agree with him, we probably would’ve taken it further if not for him. And it’s not really the ideal place. I look up at Josh and meet his gaze. He’s still breathing heavily. He leans down to my ear, whispering. 

“Go to my room, I’ll get a fire starting here and I’ll meet you there.”

I don’t hesitate, only waiting to give him a quick peck on his cheek.

“Don’t take too long, or else I have to take action alone”

“We wouldn’t want that, do we?” he smirks, walking over to the others. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Ashley shouts. 

“Getting comfortable!” I shout back. “You know, settled and stuff!”.

[lustfulslxt]

where reader gf is a shy bookworm and is dating chris. you can take this in any direction if you want to, but the boys are on live and being their normal chaotic selves so reader sits in their living room reading her book in his clothes & he ends up staring at her in awe thinking about how adorable his gf is and matt and nick point the camera at him and show what he’s staring at when fans ask (they already love her) & start making fun of him but chris just rolls his eyes at them but he never stops smiling

Admiration - Chris Sturniolo

warnings : no summary, read request. just fluff and chris being utterly in love

—

Chris’ POV

“Chris! Get in here already.” Nick complains, waving me over to the phone propped in front of him and Matt.

“The fans want to see you.” Matt adds.

I look down at my phone, reading the text from Y/N, stating that she should be here in around twenty minutes. Sighing, I put my phone in my pocket and make my way over to them. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to our fans, I really just want to spend some quality time with Y/N.

“Hey guys.” I smile, nodding to them. I can see the chat blowing up with an insane amount of people attempting to greet me, it’s actually mind blowing sometimes. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”

“So, we were thinking about just doing a little Q&A because we haven’t been live in a long time, but we also didn’t want to just sit here and stare at each other.” Nick says, chuckling a bit.

Immediately, comments come flying in with an intense amount of questions, Matt having to scroll a bit just to read one.

“Where do you see yourselves in ten years?” He reads aloud.

I instantly grin, replying, “Living life with my brothers, my beautiful wife, and our two kids.”

“Hopefully, I’ll also be with my wife and dog, in a nice cabin in the woods.” Matt answers, then looking to Nick, awaiting his response.

“I don’t know, honestly. Probably exactly where I’m at.”

Matt and I both give him a bored look, “That’s lame.”

“What am I supposed to say? With my husband and our eight kids? Newsflash, I don’t like children and I don’t plan on getting married at this point.” Nick counters.

I give a look to the live, saying ‘not again’, before letting my thoughts roam. I miss Y/N. I know she’ll be here soon, but I just can’t get enough of her. I want to live in her skin. As if on cue, headlights shine through the living room window, indicating someone just pulled up.

“I’ll be right back.” I say, quickly heading down to the front door, eager to see my beautiful girlfriend.

Upon opening it, I see Y/N mid reach for the doorknob, gasping in surprise at my presence. Her shock turns into happiness, a smile taking over her face as she pulls me into a hug. I can feel my heart swell with love, enjoying every single moment we share.

“I missed you, mama.” I say to her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I missed you more, baby.” She smiles, gently kissing my lips.

I grab her bag from her, and step aside, letting her come inside, before following her up the stairs. Once we round the corner, Matt and Nick take notice in her presence.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” Nick greets, happily.

Then Matt, “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming. How’s it going?”

“Hey guys, it’s pretty chill. How bout y’all?” She walks over, giving both of them hugs, and a silent wave to the phone once she notices the live.

“We’re good. Just live, doing a Q&A.” Nick replies.

She nods and makes her way back over to me, attempting to grab her bag as she says, “Okay, well I’ll just leave you to it. I need a shower.”

I pull the bag away from her and place my hand on her back, ushering her towards the stairs leading down to my room. Upon entering, I place her bag on my bed and pull her into my arms once more. I can feel her melting into me, causing my heart to flutter. I truly love this girl with everything in me. I pull away and grab her face, bringing her lips to mine in a passionate kiss. After a moment, we part and I place my forehead on hers as we stare into each other’s eyes.

“I love you. Come upstairs when you’re done.” I state, placing another sweet kiss to her lips.

She nods, “I love you too.”

With that, I leave her to it and head back upstairs. Matt and Nick are now in the kitchen, live on one phone, making TikTok’s on another. I stroll over, immediately joining in on their silly dancing.

“Yeaahhh!” Nick hypes me up, waving his hand up and down.

I can’t help but laugh, walking over to the live to read the chat.

u guys are so cuteee

can we be friends pls?

follow me!!!

where’s y/n

play rage!!!!

I shake my head with a grin, participating in my brothers goofy behavior. We continue dancing and joking around, entertaining ourselves and our fans. Being so caught up in them, I only just now realize that Y/N is sitting in the living room, reading her book.

I can’t help the smile that pulls to my lips, my eyes taking her in. She’s so beautiful, especially wearing my clothes that are too big for her, but she still insists on doing so. I know it’s her way of feeling close to me, plus she likes the way they smell. I love the way she furrows her eyebrows when she reads, focusing all of her attention on the words that lay out across the pages. I love the way she sticks her tongue out in concentration, she looks so silly and so cute. I love the way she’s so shy, but when she’s around me, she’s comfortable enough to, unapologetically, be herself. I love the way she brushes her hair back when it falls in her face. I love the way she sits with her knee up and her face lying on it. I love the way she moves her lips around when she’s bored. I love everything about her, and just thinking about it all whilst I admire her, I cannot wipe the ginormous smile off of my face.

“Awww. Chrissy pooh.” I hear Matt coo from behind me.

I turn my head in his direction and I’m met with him and Nick staring at me as they point the phone in our direction. Looking at the screen, I realize they’re showing the fans Y/N in the background, and it didn’t take long for me to put two and two together. They want to know what I’m staring at.

“The fans are eating this up right now!” Nick cheers, “Kid is such a simp.”

I roll my eyes, but the smile never leaves my lips as I shrug, completely agreeing with him. I am a simp. I love the fuck out of my girl, there was no shame in it. Getting up, I walk over to her, joining her on the couch. Instantly, she’s leaning into me, placing her head on my shoulder as my arm goes around her. I press a couple of sweet kisses to her cheek, then lay my head atop hers.

She smells like heaven and it makes me want to become one with her. Pulling her impossibly closer, I place my nose into her skin, inhaling deeply, causing giggles to erupt from her mouth. The sound brings another smile to my lips, enjoying the melodic noise. My hand intertwines with her, squeezing ever so gently.

“You’re the best.” I whisper into her ear.

She turns to me with a bashful smile, “What did I do?”

“Nothing at all. You’re just you.” I shrug, staring at her with so much love. “And I love the fuck out of you.”

Another laugh leaves her mouth, before she’s placing a kiss to my lips. “I love you more, Christopher.”

She can say that over and over and over again, but it will never be true. I need this girl like I need air, because I physically cannot breathe without her.

—

a/n : heyy, i hope you liked this!! sorry it’s super short, and not proofread. ikik i suck :( i’ve recently learned i am terrible at writing fluff lmfaooo

[sturnioloskyline]

Can’t stop thinking about Matt pulling a prank on reader that makes her cry so she runs downstairs to tell his mom 😂

tattletale

pairing: matt x fem!reader

warnings: language, anxiety, injury(fake), crying, cheesy fluffy ending, not proofread

summary: matt hurts your feelings, so you tell on him.

thank you for the request, anon!! 😋

nick adjusted the camera he had set up on matt's desk, angling it so it recorded matt's bed. chris watched him, standing on the other side of the room and making surre the camera looked decently hidden. matt sat on the bed, scrolling on his phone while waiting for his brothers.

"camera's set up," nick stood up and turned to look at his brothers, grabbing both of their attentions. "you guys ready?"

matt and chris nodded, walking towards the camera so that they could record an explanation for their plan. nick reached over and clicked the record button, stepping back and clapping his hands together.

"hi guys. okay so," nick began explaining, a small smile tugging at his lips. chris grinned at the camera, rubbing his hands together mischievously. "today we're going to be doing a couple's prank!"

matt groaned and rolled his eyes at the term, shoving nick in his side. nick only laughed at his reaction.

"so basically, we're gonna call y/n and act like matt got in an accident or something, and we're gonna call her over and matt's gonna pretend he got hurt." nick turned to matt, who shook his head.

"i can't believe i'm agreeing to this," matt murmured, crossing his arms. chris and nick looked at each other, giggling.

"this is gonna be so good!" chris yelled jokingly, bouncing on his toes.

downstairs, the triplet's parents were spending time together while waiting for them to finish their video. matt explained to them that y/n was coming and they were going to be loud, but chose to leave out the main premise of the video, knowing that marylou wouldn't approve of their plan.

"okay, chris, call her,"nick instructed. chris complied, pulled his phone out of his pocket and searching for your contact. he held out his phone so his brothers could better see the screen.

"i don't know what to say," chris looked to his brothers for advice.

"just call and start, like, yelling," nick shrugged. matt's eyes widened.

"no, c'mon, don't scare her that bad," matt said nervously.

"that's the whole point matt!" nick scoffed. matt looked to chris for backup, but he shook his head.

"yeah, i agree with nick, sorry matt," chris said, opening your contact and hovering his thumb over the call button, hesitating. "nick, can you do it? i can't."

nick rolled his eyes but took the phone from chris, hitting the call button and putting the phone on speaker. matt buried his face in his hands. dreading the conversation that was about to happen. the phone rung out a few times before clicking, causing the triplets to shuffle tighter around the phone.

"chris? hello?" your confused voice sounded through chris's phone speakers. causing a smile to spread on matt's face.

"Y/N? ARE YOU THERE? IT'S NICK," nick screamed into the phone. chris immediately turned away to keep himself from laughing out loud.

"yeah, i'm here nick, what's wrong? what's going on?" your voice was laced with worry, causing matt's eyebrows to furrow in guilt.

"IT'S MATT," nick yelled. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED, BUT HE GOT HURT, YOU NEED TO GET OVER HERE."

"WHAT?" you screamed back in shock. your heart immediately droppeed at the mention of matt's name. "WHERE IS HE?"

"IN HIS ROOM, LISTEN, I HAVE TO GO—"

"NICK, WAIT, DON'T HANG—" nick hit the red end call button on chris's screen, handing his phone back to him.

"nick, what the fuck?" matt turned to his brother. "that was insane! she's gonna think i'm fucking dying."

"no she won't, it'll be fine, relax," nick shrugged, only causing matt to become more stressed.

"oh my god, guys!" chris jaw dropped at his phone screen, causing his brothers to snap their heads towards him. "she's calling again,"

"oh my god," matt groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"don't pick up! just let her come over," nick giggled. matt sighed and walked over to his bed, laying down and throwing an arm over his eyes.

"so... what do we do now?" chris asked, moving to sit at the end of matt's bed.

"we wait," matt pulled out his phone to check your location, and sure enough, you were already on your way to the triplets house. matt's eyes widened as you moved rapidly towards his location. "holy shit, she's whipping it."

nick walked over to matt and chris, and matt flips his phone around so his brothers can see the speed at which you're driving over. "if she's going that fast she'll be here in like, five minutes."

the triplets rushed to prepare for y/n's arrival. nick set up another camera to get an angle facing matt's door, chris looked out the window to watch out for y/n's car, and matt just curled up into a ball on his bed.

"okay, she's pulling in, she's pulling in!" chris frantically closed the window blinds, going to matt's side at the bed. nick stumbled as well, rubbing his palms on his pants.

"okay, okay, let's just start yelling," nick quickly suggested. chris didn't need to be told twice, immediately screaming.

"MATT!! MATT, ARE YOU OKAY MATT?" chris wailed, neding down at matt's side. matt rolled his eyes and his brother, resulting in a smack on the leg from nick.

"matt! scream!" nick whisper-yelled. matt sighed, but complied anyways.

"AAAAAAAAAA!" matt screams louder than he's ever been before. just a second later, the triplets could hear the front door being unlocked and opened from downstairs.

“matt?” your voice echoed throughout the house. you quickly bounded up the stairs, not bothering to take off your shoes.

matt lets out another scream of pain, making your heart drop to your stomach. you sprint to his room, bursting the door open, almost breaking it off of its hinges. nick and chris snapped their heads towards you, surprised by your sudden entrance. you ignored the way the looked at you, pushing past them to rush to matt's side.

matt laid with his face buried in the pillow, his knees tucked up to his chest. just the sight of him in pain made a lump form in your throat.

"matt!" you sink down beside the bed, placing your hand on matt's back. "baby what's wrong? what's happened?"

"hurts so bad.." matt's whined dramatically. your heart broke at the sound of his weak voice, tears pricking in your eyes. you looked at chris and nick, who just looked at you sadly.

"can you turn over for me?" matt shook his head into the pillow. matt had never acted like this when he was in pain, so you were starting to really think something was seriously wrong. a tear rolled down your cheek at the thought.

"oh, matt," you couldn't keep your voice from cracking with emotion. matt immediately noticed, snapping his head up from the pillow to look at you. when he saw the tears that were beginning to stream down your face, he immediately sat up and reached out to wipe them away.

"hey, don't cry," matt was riddled with guilt. you furrowed your eyebrows, confused as matt held your face in his hands.

"aw, c'mon matt!" chris groaned. you glanced over at him and looked back at matt.

"what the actual hell is going on?" you asked him.

"i'm not hurt, we were just pranking you for the vlog," matt explained, watching your face closely for a reaction. your facial expression remained blank, causing matt to worry. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to make you cry. it was nick and chris's idea."

nick and chris immediately began yelling to defend themselves, but you ignored them. you looked at matt, who looked to you with remorse in his eyes. you shook your head, standing up and walking towards the door.

"y/n, wait!" matt called out behind you, but you just exited the room. you weren't seriously angry at him, just a little frustrated. plus, now your head was aching from crying, so you wanted a glass of water.

you heard footsteps behind you so you turned around. you expected to see matt, but were surprised when you saw his mom instead. “marylou?”

"y/n!" she smiled, holding out her arms to greet you, but her smile faltered when she saw your watery eyes. "what's wrong honey?"

just then, matt opened his bedroom door, freezing when he saw you facing his mother. your eyes flicked to his before you turned back to marylou.

"your son—" you pointed to matt. "tricked me! he pulled the meanest ‘prank’ ever."

marylou gasped, turning to look at her son, who replied with a guilty look. "matthew!"

"he acted like he was dying! that’s not funny!" you ranted. marylou shook her head and pulled you into a hug.

you looked at matt over her shoulder, not being able to hold back your smile from him. his expression softened when he realized you weren't mad at him. shortly after, chris and nick appeared behind matt.

marylou pulled away from the hug, turning around to look at her sons. “is that what all that screaming was about? you were pulling a prank on sweet y/n?”

you giggled at marylou’s scolding. the triplets began talking over each other in defense, causing you and marylou to glance at each other, bursting into giggles.

…

as an apology, matt had brought you flowers and taco bell, and the two of you were watching one of your favorite movies. you were grateful; after all the emotional turmoil you went through earlier, all you wanted was some quiet quality time with matt.

you scooted over on the bed so that you could curl into his side once you finished your food. matt smiled down at you, throwing his tattooed arm over your shoulder. you leaned up to place a quick peck to his lips. when you pulled away, he placed his hand on your cheek and pulled you up to kiss him again. you smiled into the kiss, humming with content. the two of you broke away from each other, cuddling closer to each other and refocusing on the movie. you occasionally glanced at matt, memories from earlier flooding your brain.

“i hate seeing you hurt,” you spoke barely above a whisper. matt pulled you onto his chest, resting his head on top of yours.

“i know. i’m sorry,” he mumbled, kissing your head. you closed your eyes. “i hate seeing you cry.”

“i know,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around him and laying on top of him. matt snaked his own arms around your waist, holding you tight.

the two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, the movie fading into background noise as exhaustion took over your body, and before you knew it you were fast asleep on top of matt. matt stroked your hair, occasionally leaning down to kiss your head or bringing your hand to his lips, just wanting to make you feel safe. shortly after, matt gave into sleep himself, and the two of you slept soundly in each other’s arms.

…

author’s note: sometimes when i work on a big batch of fics i feel like that one hamilton lyric “hamilton wrote the other 51!!!” …. keep sending requests!! 🦄