#is for nick to occasionally check his phone

[nfr-girly]

Healing hands 🩺 🩹 Michael Robinavitch x reader (spoilers)

Angst + fluff ❤️‍🩹 :: I’m not a medical expert at all so some of the information may be wrong 😵‍💫

Masterlist

~~~~

It was 12 hours into the shift. Robby was barely holding it together. Too much had happened today, Nick Bradley’s overdose, mr Spencer’s death, the little girl who drowned saving her sister, the shooting, Langdon, on top of today being the anniversary of Adamsons death. He wasn’t even supposed to be here.

It was like a never ending dance, every turn he took he had to deal with another problem, on top of that dealing with the stress of trying to save Jake and his girlfriend from bullet wounds. Luckily he had managed to save them both. (let’s pretend she survives 🤗)

It’s not an easy job, he knows that. It drains him every single day. But what motivates him to keep on going is very simply because of you. He does this job to build you two a life, he keeps on going because he knows you’ll be there at home waiting for him.

He knows you worry about him, how could you not? You see it on his face after work every day. All the lost patients, all the exhaustion. You know today is the most hardest on him. He hasn’t worked today for four years, when he got ready this morning you were hesitant to let him go. You knew he wasn’t stable enough, even though he told you he was, countless times.

No one at the er even knows about you two. The only ones who do are Dana, Frank and Dr Collins.

Right now, Robby seems to actually have a moment to himself. He sits at his computer, but really he’s only looking at his phone. He texted you a few hours ago how you were doing. It was your day off today, you made sure you had time off to be with Robby. (Before he ultimately decided to go to work). You hadn’t texted him back yet.

He didn’t want to worry himself too much, already on the verge of breaking down. So instead he sorted out documents.

He heard someone being brought in behind him, turning his head he tried to look, but the face of the person was covered by someone.

“They were involved in an attack by a drunken man. They were just walking in an alley when a man came up behind them and stabbed them in the shoulder.”

Robby overheard this as he got up and followed them into a room. Still not being able to see their face.

“Where’s the man now?” He asks, back turned to the patient as he puts his gloves on

“He’s been arrested, a man saw it and reported it to the police. He’s out there right now making a statement”

Robby nods, and quickly turns around, prepared to check their shoulder when he stops.

He felt his heart drop. All wind goes out his lungs and he can feel his ears ringing. Fuck.

There you were, lying on the gurney, your eyes were closed but you were alive. You were mumbling out incoherent words.

Suddenly the room was spinning, he could feel countless eyes on him as he spent about 20 seconds trying to assess the situation. Trying to convince himself that somehow you aren’t the one lying on the table.

“Alright catch me up on what-“ Dana speaks out as she walks into the room, but ultimately stops as she realises who the patient is. She looks towards Robby, who still hasn’t moved.

Dr Santos, now confused by the two, speaks up. “They have a stab wound on their right shoulder, got involved with a drunken man in an alley and he just stabbed them. It’s a little too close to the axillary artery for my liking.”

Dana nods in understanding, deciding to take charge of the situation while Robby still tries to figure out what to do. The room works around him, Dana occasionally leads the students on how to handle the wound. Suddenly, a voice can be heard.

“Robby”, it was muttered so quietly, any softer and no one would have heard it. Everyone looks towards him and he realises you’ve just called his name. He doesn’t know whether to sigh in relief or break down on the spot. He doesn’t leave time to think as he rushes to your side.

“Hey honey, I’ve got you you’re okay” he holds the side of your face and you give him the smallest smile you can. In the state you’re in, that smiles a godsend. Everyone around him seems to finally understand what’s going on. A newfound pressure is felt on everyone.

Robby immediately speaks up and gives out orders what to do, he doesn’t leave your side for a second.

Eventually, your shoulder is cleaned and is being stitched up now by Robby. Everyone has left you two to be on your own.

No words were exchanged between you two. You weren’t sure who would break the ice first.

While he stitches you up, you turn your head to look towards him, you can see the concentration on his face, but you can also see the worry, the stress from today. You don’t know what’s happened but you don’t need to be a genius to know he’s not okay.

“Robby.” You say, softly

He looks up at you and lets you speak.

“Are you okay?”

Robby chuckles quietly, not because of your question but just at how unbelievably caring you are. Even though you’re lying there, stab wound in the shoulder and half sedated, you still want to make sure he’s okay.

“I should be asking you that. What were you doing in an alleyway?” He feels guilty, if he hadn’t gone into work today you two would be at home right now, and you wouldn’t be hurt.

“I went to the shops, figured I’d cook us something special, I knew today would be hard so I wanted you to come home to something nice”

Robby looks at you in adoration. Jesus. He doesn’t deserve you.

“Has it been hard?”

Robby looks down at the floor. He doesn’t need to think about it, today’s been awful. He’s lost too many people, he almost lost Jake, and for gods sake he almost lost you.

No words come out his mouth, he just simply nods and looks up.

You look to him in worry, he’s done with your stitching, so you move your hands and invite him into your arms.

He smiles slightly, he doesn’t want to hurt your shoulder so he walks around to the other side of the bed, gets in it and lies his head on your chest. You carefully wrap your arms around him, your hand going through his hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him

He shakes his head, “not now. Maybe later”

You bring your lips to his hair. “Okay”. You hold him tighter, not wanting to let go. Robby knows he has to be back out there, but a few minutes won’t hurt anyone.

He can’t think of a single moment today where he got the chance to just take a minute. To try and move on from the lives he hasn’t been able to save. Finally, in this moment he can, and with you it makes it significantly better.

~~~~

[whore4wroetoshaw]

introduction and backstory to minter!reader.

it was always her and simon.

technically, there were four minter siblings—nick, johnny, simon, and her—but the age gaps had naturally split the house into factions. the older brothers were kind, calm, composed, and busy doing "older sibling" things. and then there was simon and his baby sister. built-in best friend, video game partner, co-conspirator since birth.

from the moment she could talk, she was yelling over him. and from the moment she could walk, he was dragging her into games she didn't understand but refused to lose in.

they did everything together. from football in the garden to secret snack runs to late night fifa. she couldn't care less about the offside rule—all she wanted to do was hang out with her big brother.

and simon? he let her. he shared everything. his room. his hoodie. his ps2. his terrible opinions.

when simon was 12 years old, he came home absolutely fuming. some boy at school — jj something — had called him 'lanky' in front of the whole class. she was nine. she didn't know what lanky meant, but she knew it had made her brother sad, and that was enough.

so the next time she saw jj's annoying younger brother, same age as her, teasing her in the school corridor with the same insult, she did the only thing that made sense to her at nine years old.

she punched him. in the face. broke his nose, even. it was a messy, chaotic fight that ended in two detentions, one very confused teacher, and a strange, shaky truce between the minter siblings and the olatunji siblings that would — against all odds — grow into a lifelong bond.

when simon started posting on youtube in his room, she wanted in. while he was uploading fifa videos on miniminter, she was sitting on the floor filming q&as on an old flip cam. lip gloss too bright. lighting non-existent.

they both grew. seperately, but together.

then came the sidemen.

by 2013, simon was filming every weekend, working with the og crew, growing a channel that would change all their lives. she was around for all of it — helping with thumbnails, occasionally hopping into a video, eating leftover pizza after shoots.

the boys loved her immediately. jj called her "miniest minter." josh made it a ritual to bring her iced coffee before a shoot. ethan was practically her cameraman. tobi let her paint his nails. vik even made vines with her. and simon? simon pretended he hated that she was always around — but never actually told her to leave.

wroetoshaw.

he wasn’t there at the start. he joined in 2014. which meant she didn’t know him. at least — not yet.

harry lewis came into their lives like a tornado in a blue hoodie. they brought him in like a missing puzzle piece. the perfect mix of explosive fifa rage and hilarious.

except… he didn’t know her.

the boys had been talking about her for months. y/n this, y/n that. so, naturally, harry asked. "sorry—who the fuck is y/n?"

simon didn't even look up from his phone. "my sister." harry's ears immediately perked up. "you have a sister? how old?"

“yeah, your age,” josh chimed in, like it was common knowledge. “she’s around a lot. how have you not met her yet?”

tobi nodded. “you’ll meet her soon. she's... something.”

"she's fuckin' gorgeous, is what she is." ethan grinned.

simon groaned. “don’t say that.”

twenty minutes later, as if summoned, she walked in. oversized hoodie (stolen from simon), lips glossed, phone in one hand, coffee in the other, speaker poking out of her bag blaring graduation.

she didn’t even glance up at first. just waltzed in like she owned the place, humming to the beat of the song, nails clacking lightly against her phone screen as she dug through her tote bag. “simon,” she called casually, still not making eye contact, “did you take my charger last night?”

simon didn’t look up either. “no.”

“liar.”

“check your bathroom drawer.”

“i did. all I found was your deodorant and a full bag of haribos.”

“so that’s where i left them—”

jj cut in, already grinning. “y/n, meet harry.”

she paused. looked up. finally. harry stood there, awkward and wide-eyed, a half-eaten flapjack in his hand and his soul visibly leaving his body because, what. the. fuck.

nobody said she’d be hot. he hadn’t known what to expect — maybe someone who looked vaguely like simon with glasses or braces or weird posture. he wasn’t ready for this. she didn’t look like simon at all. not lanky. not awkward. she was… gorgeous. completely unaware of it. or maybe very aware. either way, he was spiralling.

she tilted her head. "you're wroetoshaw?"

he nodded. “technically, yeah. i mean—yes. harry. i’m harry. but that’s—uh—yeah.”

she blinked. "... okay."

he cleared his throat. "you don't look like simon. at all."

"i'll take that as a compliment." she grinned and moved toward the couch. "hold this for a second, will you?" she gestured toward her coffee.

of course he took it without thinking. zero hesitation. and then… she walked off. sat herself on the couch like it was hers, casually pulling things out of her bag, legs tucked under her like she’d been there forever.

harry was still standing there. clutching her half-melted iced coffee. blinking. breathing weird.

she held out her hand, palm open, not even looking. he gave it back. obviously.

she leaned back, finally looking up at him properly. “nice to meet you, wroetoshaw.”

“harry,” he said again, a little too quickly. “you can—uh. call me harry.”

she smiled, lips glossy, eyes unreadable. “okay, harry.”

and just like that, he was gone. done. dead. buried. six feet under. fully fucking smitten.

from that day on, they just clicked. in a “bickering all day but also maybe sharing snacks” way. in a “she steals his hoodies and he pretends not to care” way. in a “everyone else noticed before they did” way. in a way that looked a lot like love — long before either of them would call it that.

it was just harry and y/n. y/n and harry. like it had always been them. like it would always be them.

then her youtube career really took off. people loved her. she never planned anything. just set her camera up on a pile of books, lit a candle for vibes, and started talking. about boys. about bad dates. quick grwms and girl advice. a stupid challenge or two. but they really loved her.

it didn’t take long before she had a solid fanbase. then a manager. then pr packages. then brand deals.

the modelling thing started by accident—like most things in her life.

she had posted a photo promoting her new video. that was it.

messy hair. glossy lips. stacked necklaces. low rise cargos and a white tank top. the most basic fit ever. mirror dusty. lighting mid.

someone at a beauty agency saw it, and that was it. in the blink of an eye, she was being flown to paris. then milan. then london fashion week.

one minute she was filming chaotic mukbangs on her bedroom floor — the next she was wearing silk dresses and glass heels and getting flown out for perfume launches.

suddenly, she wasn’t miniminter's sister, or the girl with good advice—she was walking for campaigns, fronting lookbooks, holding tiny designer handbags she used to manifest in her notes app. but she didn't change. not even a bit. she was still the same girl who pulled up to sidemen shoots with pizza boxes in her hand. still vlogged in her pajamas. still did football slip-n-slide challenges with the boys because it was fun.

and harry?

harry watched it all happen — quietly, protectively, helplessly in love. he was never far behind. in her vlogs. in her comments. in the background of paparazzi shots, holding her hand. in her phone, always.

because no matter how many runways she walked or editorials she booked, she always came home to him. her favourite face to see after the cameras stopped flashing.

[matthewsroses]

It definitely wasn’t a new topic brought up, you and matt have joked about him getting your name tattooed on his heart. It wasn’t like he didn’t have any tattoos dedicated to you ofc he did, a bow and the first letter of your name was tatted on him.

Previously this week matt had told you that him and nick would go get new tattoos but he didn’t want to tell you exactly what the tattoo would be.

Immediately after waking up you reached over trying to find the familiar comforting body by your side each morning. However when you couldn’t seem to find him you rose and noticed that the bathroom lights where turned off and matts phone was gone.

A bit panicked you put your slippers on and made your way over to the kitchen only to find chris eating toast with peanut butter. “Good morning sunshine” he said one he noticed your presence in the room. “Morning” you replied sitting down next to him “do you know where matt is”

“oh yeah” chris started still while eating “ he told me to tell you him and nick went to get tattoos and he will be back in 2 hours or so”

You nodded your head in understanding heading back to your room. “By the way I made you toast its on the counter” chris says with his mouth filled with food. Sending him an appreciate smile you thanked him, grabbed your food, and went back to your room.

As soon as you entered your room you heard your phone ping with a notification from matt “goodmorning baby I went with nick to get tattos ill be back in a bit we are almost done”

Debating on what to do while waiting for matt to get home you landed on showering and getting ready for the day. After showering and changing you sat on your bed scrolling on TikTok.

While scrolling you would occasionally see edits of matt or some of your relationship with him. Liking and reposting all the edits you saw you continued scrolling.

After 5 minutes of scrolling you heard the sudden laughing of all three triplets. “ y/n come here” you heard nick yell .

Getting up and walking into the living room where you saw all three brothers talking you sat next to matt

“Y/n check out matts new tattoo” chris says while smiling. As chris says that matt stands up and pulls his shirt over his head leaving him in his jeans.

Looking at his chest you notice a new tattoo right above where his heart is, but not just any tatto it was your name with a heart next to it.

As soon as you saw it a smile was immediately placed on your face. “Matt you actually got it” you said as you stared at him. “Yeah of course i did baby, told you i would”

“I thought you where joking though” you say smiling at him “anything for my girl” after matt says that both chris and nick leave claiming they would die from all the affection.

After they left you hugged matt and kissed him on the cheek. It was small things matt did that made you feel so loved by him.

©matthewsroses™

[vanteguccir]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMrxNHaFP/

write Y/N doing that with Chris and put Matt's and Nick's reaction 🙏🏻

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDIRTY TEXT * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　Y/N sends a dirty text to Chris while he's filming with his brothers

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader

WARNINGS　::　dirty texting

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error

The kitchen was filled with the familiar buzz of cameras as Chris, Matt, and Nick sat around the wooden table, enthusiastically recording their latest YouTube video, Trying and Rating Bad Baby Food. Y/N was lounging comfortably on the grey couch, half-watching them and half-scrolling through her phone.

She chuckled at their antics, her gaze occasionally drifting over to her boyfriend, who was in the middle of a heated debate with Matt over the best baby food.

As she continued to scroll, she stumbled upon a TikTok trend where girlfriends sent dirty texts to their boyfriends while they were with other people. The reactions were hilarious and varied, and she couldn't resist the temptation to try it out herself. A mischievous smile spread across her face as she opened her messages app and began typing a particularly steamy text to Chris.

"can't stop thinking about how you made me cum non-stop last night... can't wait for you to do it again today, maybe even better this time, yeah?"

She hit send and bit her lip, trying to suppress a giggle. Chris's phone, which was sitting on the table between him and Nick, chimed with the notification.

Chris glanced at his phone momentarily, a hint of curiosity crossing his face, but he continued his argument with Matt without picking it up. Nick, however, caught sight of the text that popped up on the screen. His eyes widened, and he let out an exaggerated scream, causing both Chris and Matt to turn their heads in his direction.

"Chris!" Nick exclaimed, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh my god, Chris! You might want to check that."

Chris frowned, reaching for his phone, and as he read the text, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. He looked up at Y/N, who was now watching him with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying their reaction.

"Y/N!" Chris called out, half-laughing, half-shy. "What the hell, babe?"

Matt, clueless about the contents of the text, leaned over to Nick, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen.

"What's it?"

Nick, still laughing and now dramatically fanning himself, shook his head.

"Oh, Matt, you don't want to know! This is X-rated stuff!"

Y/N burst into laughter on the couch, doubling over as Chris tried to compose himself, his face still flushed.

"Just a small surprise, honey." She teased, winking at him.

Matt finally managed to grab Chris's phone from Nick's hand and took a quick look before recoiling in disgust.

"Oh, gross, dude! Keep that private!"

Chris, now thoroughly enjoying the situation, leaned back in his chair with a smirk.

"Hey, it's not my fault you guys don't get laid." He said, laughing loudly.

Nick continued his dramatic antics, pretending to swoon.

"Oh, the scandal! The sheer indecency!" He exclaimed, making Matt groan even louder.

"Can we please get back to the video?" Matt pleaded, still looking horrified. "I did not need to know that much about your sex life, Chris."

Y/N watched them with a satisfied grin, enjoying the playful chaos she had unleashed. She loved seeing Chris like this, his usual confident self still shining through even when he was the butt of the joke.

As the recording continued, she caught his eye, and he gave her a look that promised payback later, making her heart skip a beat.

© vanteguccir

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, bickering, mention of toxic relationship, aftermath of a toxic relationship, arguments, tension

I step carefully through the wreckage of my apartment, trying to see what’s salvageable so I could have a few things to live out of, staying with the triplets. Most of my things are either smashed, torn, or covered in a fine layer of dirt and glass shards. Ethan didn’t just take his belongings, he left destruction in his wake.

I sigh, kneeling down to inspect what’s left. A lot of it can be replaced, I tell myself. Furniture, dishes, even the picture frames, it’s all just stuff. But as I rummage through the mess, a sinking feeling sets in. Something’s missing.

My heart races as I scan the countertop near the bathroom. I dig through drawers, lift pillows off the bed, and even check the edge of the shower where I remember setting it.

“My locket..” I whisper.

The small, gold locket my grandfather gave me before he passed. Engraved with his writing, something I felt always brought me good luck. I only take it off to shower, but this morning, in the rush of everything, I forgot to put it back on after. Now, it’s gone.

I stand still, gripping the edge of the sink. Of all the things Ethan could have taken or destroyed, why this? I close my eyes, trying to steady myself, but the loss feels heavier than the rest of the chaos combined.

“Y/n?” Nick’s voice snaps me back to reality.

“I’m almost done” I call back, my voice cracking slightly.

“We’ll wait in the car, take your time.” Nick says, as the three of them leave my apartment.

I grab my suitcase, throwing in whatever clothes and keepsakes I can save. My heart aches as I step over broken memories, knowing I’ll never feel at home here again.

As I walk out of the apartment, I take one last glance at the space that used to be mine. Now it’s just a reminder of what I’ve lost, and what I need to leave behind.

Outside, I see the triplets waiting in Chris’s car. Chris is leaning against the driver’s door, scrolling on his phone. Matt is in the passenger seat, looking like he couldn’t care less about the situation. Nick spots me and jogs over, taking the suitcase from my hand without saying a word.

“You okay?” Nick asks softly.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Chris looks up as Nick loads my suitcase into the trunk. “You sure you’ve got everything?”

“Yeah..” I reply, forcing a weak smile, wanting to grab the empty space on my chest where my locket would’ve lay, knowing the one thing I promised to never lose, is now gone.

Matt lets out an exaggerated sigh as I climb into the backseat. “Thank god, I’m still starving.”

The drive to their house is tense. Chris hums along to the radio, Nick tries to lighten the mood by cracking a few jokes, and Matt stays silent, occasionally scrolling on his phone. I stare out the window, trying to focus on anything but the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. But for now, I had no choice but to figure out how to move forward.

We pull into the garage of the triplets’ house, a place I’ve been to more times than I can count. Between my friendship with Nick and working with Chris, this house isn’t unfamiliar territory. The three story house is a place full of energy, chaos, and, right now, tension.

Chris parks the car, and I step out, clutching my suitcase in one hand. Nick is already out of the car and at the door, holding it open for me like the good friend he is, while Matt trails behind us, dragging his feet like he’s walking to his own execution.

“You know where everything is” Nick says as he ushers me inside.

I step inside, suitcase in hand, the stairs creaking slightly as I lug my suitcase up to the main living area. Chris floated off into his bedroom on the way in, and Matt made comfort for himself on the couch. From there, I follow Nick up the next flight to the top level of the house. My new “room” is just outside Nick’s.

The podcast room, or what used to be the podcast room, is a tiny square area tucked at the end of the top of the stairs. The artificial walls are still standing, flimsy and paper thin, painted in mismatched shades of white, pink, and turquoise. It’s like stepping into a DIY project someone abandoned halfway through. The floor is covered in black and white checkered lino, glaringly out of place against the rest of the house.

“It’s not the Ritz” Nick says, scratching the back of his neck, “but we can make it work. I’ll help you get set up.”

“No it’s fine, I appreciate it” I reply, offering a small smile. “You’re saving my ass right now.”

I drop my suitcase on the floor and glance around. The space is.. A space. Let’s go with that. It doesn’t have a door, just an open entrance directly leading to the stairs, and Nick’s bedroom door opposite me, but I can’t exactly complain. I knew this was a temporary solution.

Nick gestures to the far corner. “We can fit a bed over there, maybe a little shelf or something for your stuff. I’ll start looking for furniture now.”

“Thanks, Nick.”

He grins. “What are best friends for?”

I glance at the walls, noticing faint pencil marks where posters and soundproofing foam used to be. The room is oddly quiet, considering how thin walls are, I know on a day to day basis they aren’t much of a barrier, but they’ll give me some semblance of privacy.

I roll my suitcase over to the corner and I unzip it, beginning to pull out my toiletries, placing them on the floor beside me as I try to figure out the best way to organize everything. Toothbrush, toothpaste, skincare stuff, my shampoo and conditioner.

“Uh, Nick?” I call out, glancing over my shoulder at him. “I’m not really sure where to put my toiletries. Using your bathroom would mean I’d be going in and out of your room all the time, and that could get pretty inconvenient.. especially if you’re asleep or something.”

Nick tilts his head, considering. “Yeah, that might get a little awkward. You could always use Matt’s bathroom, I mean it’s not in his room, and everyone uses it anyway.”

I freeze for a second, side eyeing Nick. “Matt’s bathroom?”

“Yeah” Nick says, as if it’s the simplest solution in the world. “It’s easier, and you won’t have to tiptoe around me.”

I glance down at the stairs knowing Matt’s down there, already dreading how this conversation is going to go. As if on cue, Matt’s voice echoes from somewhere below. “Wait what?”

Nick leans over the railing. “I said Y/n could use your bathroom since it’s easier. It’s not a big deal.”

Matt appears at the bottom of the stairs, his expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Why does it have to be my bathroom? You’ve got one. Chris has one.”

“Because it’s not in anyone’s bedroom” Nick explains to him. “And it’s right down the stairs.”

Matt runs a hand through his hair, clearly annoyed.

I sigh, standing at the top of the stairs, crossing my arms. “Look, I’ll keep my stuff out of the way, and I won’t use it when you’re in there. It’s not like I’m going to live in your bathroom.”

Matt narrows his eyes, muttering under his breath, “Feels like it.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Stop being dramatic. It’s not like she’s going to redecorate your shower.”

I shoot Matt a pointed look. “Believe me, this is just as awkward for me as it is for you. But I’m not exactly drowning in options right now.”

Matt throws his hands up. “Fine. But if my stuff goes missing or gets moved, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You’ll survive, Matt. Trust me.”

Matt mutters something under his breath before heading back to sit on the couch. I turn to Nick, who just shrugs with a lopsided smile.

“Don’t worry about him” Nick says. “He’ll get over it. Eventually.”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Yeah, let’s hope that happens sooner rather than later.”

Deciding that keeping my toiletries in my little makeshift room for now is the safest bet, I arrange them neatly in the corner. I’ll just grab what I need when I need it and take them down to Matt’s bathroom individually. No reason to make this situation worse, or give Matt another excuse to complain.

Nick, still leaning against the doorframe of his own room, looks up from his phone. “I just checked some spots online for a bed. Macy’s has a decent one we can go pick up today.”

Matt, who’s clearly eavesdropping from the couch below, calls out, “I’m not driving. Ask Chris.”

“You’re so helpful, Matt. Seriously.” Nick yells down the stairs.

I sigh, standing up. “It’s fine, I’ll go ask Chris.”

Leaving Nick and Matt to bicker, I head down the stairs to the bottom floor of the house where Chris’s room is. His door is slightly ajar, so I knock lightly. “Chris?”

No response. I push the door open a little more, peeking inside. Chris is sprawled out on his bed, fast asleep, with one arm draped over his eyes. His phone is charging on the nightstand, and a half empty bottle of pepsi sits next to it.

For a moment, I debated whether I should wake him up. I decided against it since I’ve just moved into the place, the last thing I want to do is make demands or step on anyone's toes. 

I turn on my heel to walk back up the stairs, Nick and Matt still bickering in the distance, I hesitate at the bottom, my hand gripping the banister tightly as I hear Matt's voice. His tone is sharp, laced with irritation.

“I just don’t get why she has to live here” he hisses, clearly unaware that I’m within earshot. “Like, does she not have any other friends?”

My stomach twists at his words, and my steps slow, barely making a sound.

“She does, Matt.” Nick retorts, his voice firm. “But she’s also my best friend, and I’m sure Chris would consider her one of his too. This will also make things easier for them both for work purposes. Like you’re the only one with an issue here.”

I stay frozen in place, torn between storming up there and pretending I didn’t hear a thing.

“Yeah” Matt scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “and I bet Chris only gave her the job because he wants to smash.”

His comment lands like a punch to the gut, my heart sinking. I stand there, gripping the railing, trying to push away the sting of his words.

Nick lets out a frustrated sigh. “Seriously, Matt? That’s low, even for you. Chris gave her the job because she’s good at it, and you know it. Maybe if you actually got to know her instead of acting like an ass all the time, you’d see that too.”

There’s a brief silence, and I think about heading back to Chris’s room to avoid hearing any more, but my feet feel glued to the spot.

Matt’s voice cuts through the pause. “Whatever, man. Just don’t expect me to be all buddy buddy with her. She’s your friend, not mine.”

I take a deep breath, swallowing the lump in my throat. I’ve always known Matt and I didn’t get along, but hearing him talk about me like that feels different.

Determined not to let them see how much it affected me, I make my way up the stairs, forcing my steps to sound casual. As I approach, Nick glances over his shoulder at me, his expression softening into something apologetic. Matt doesn’t even look my way, his jaw set and his arms crossed.

“Chris is asleep” I say, keeping my voice calm. “I didn’t want to wake him.”

Nick sighs, pushing himself up from where he was leaning against the wall. “Alright, guess that leaves us with Plan B.”

Matt immediately looks skeptical. “What’s Plan B?”

“You.” Nick says as if that was a stupid thing to ask.

Matt groans, his head tipping back dramatically. “Are you serious? Why do I have to do it?”

“Because you’re here, you have a car, and Chris is asleep” Nick counters, folding his arms. “Stop being difficult and help.”

Matt looks between the two of us, his jaw tightening. “Fine” he finally says, his tone clipped. “But if I’m driving, you both owe me food, since I never got it earlier..”

Nick smirks. “Deal.”

“And I’m not spending hours out here either, I’ve places to be later.” Matt says firmly, as he grabs his keys.

Nick, already halfway down the stairs, doesn’t even look back. "Relax, Matt. Looking for bedding isn’t going to make you miss your date later."

I glance at Matt, who scowls, his expression hardening even further. "Good. Because I’m not ditching plans to play chauffeur."

“Yeah, yeah, we get it” Nick says with a dismissive wave as we step outside toward the car.

I follow behind, trying to suppress my irritation at Matt’s attitude, silently wishing this entire situation didn’t feel so awkward, and I didn’t overhear that conversation.

As we climb in to the car, I silently promise myself I’ll try to stay out of Matt’s way as much as possible. If only it were that easy.

a/n: my sleep pattern is FUCKED so parts might be all over the place

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[ericshoney]

Grumpy Girl ~ Sturniolo triplets

It was a normal Thursday. You had woken up in Nick's bed and could hear the guys downstairs talking, Chris screaming about something. You checked your phone and saw it was two in the afternoon, making you sigh and slowly get up and head downstairs.

"Good morning!" Chris exclaimed once he saw you.

"Shut up." You grumbled, making the trio laugh.

"Is the little baby grumpy this morning." Nick mocked in a baby voice.

"Fuck off." You muttered, going to the kitchen to grab a drink before heading back upstairs to Nick's room to have a shower.

When you had finished and got dressed, still feeling slightly grumpy, you returned to the triplets, who were still sat on the sofa.

"We're thinking of vlogging today, you want to join?" Matt offered.

"Sure, just don't piss me off." You answered.

"Okay grumpy girl." Chris teased, as you threw a pillow at him.

"Let's go!" Nick exclaimed, already heading downstairs to the garage.

You trudged along behind, the three boys already in their usual seats. You got in the back besides Nick as Chris started singing loudly to the music.

"Be quiet bitch." You said, laying your head on the window.

"And there's miss grumpy pants, say hi to the vlog!" Nick shouted, waving the camera in your face.

"Hi vlog." You half-assed greeted.

"There she is, Queen of grumps. So we're off to get food!" Nick said, turning the camera back to himself.

You remained quiet for the rest of the car ride, Chris still singing, but quieter. Nick was talking to the camera, while Matt was focused on driving, occasionally looking at you.

The triplets knew you had days where you didn't feel the best, resulting in you being grumpy and pouty. Nick and Chris loved to tease you about it, whilst Matt watched silently. All three of them were obviously caring and supportive over you, wanting you happy and smiling at all times, but still loved to tease you when they could.

You four had soon arrived at your chosen food destination and as you stepped out of the car, you let out a small yawn, before hearing a giggle from Chris.

"Is someone still sleepy?" Chris called with another giggle.

"Shhh." You replied, waving your hand in Chris' face.

He laughed again before dashing ahead, Nick shaking his head as he followed with the camera, whilst Matt trailed behind with you.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked softly.

"Hmm." You mumbled.

"Bad nights sleep or just not feeling good?" He asked.

"Just not feeling good. Don't wanna be grumpy." You answered with a small pout.

Matt nodded and wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulder as you both walked inside, already seeing Chris and Nick have ordered the food for all of you.

As all of you ate, Chris, Matt and Nick joked around and talked to the camera. You smiled a bit as you watched on quietly, as you ate more, you started to feel a bit better and less grumpy.

"Can we get ice cream?" You quietly cut in.

"Will it make you happy and not grumpy anymore?" Nick questioned.

"Yes." You answered with a nod.

"Then off we go to get ice cream!" Chris exclaimed, making Nick shh him as people started to look, which made you and Matt laugh.

Once you all finished, you left and headed back to the car, ready to go get ice cream. The boys saw the smile on your face as you started to talk more and relax, which made them happy.

"Life lesson here, if your grumpy or have a grumpy friend, get them food and promise them ice cream, it makes them happy." Nick said, waving the camera at your smiling face.

You smiled and are glad you agreed to go out with them for the day, not lay in Nick's bed and have a resting grump face all day long.

[mattsturnioloswifey]

Vacation

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Reader.

Summary: You and Matt have known each for as long as you can remember due to your parents being best friends. The only thing is, you hate each other. Now you were going on vacation with the Sturniolos.

____________________________________________

"I'm not sitting by him." I say, annoyed.

"Well I'm not sitting back there." Chris shrugs. "I'm not either." Nick agrees. I clench my jaw, theres no way was I gonna sit by Matt Sturniolo for hours on end.

"Please someone just switch me seats." I beg as Nick and Chris shake their heads. I sigh and sit next to Matt in the very back seat. He doesn't look up from his phone. MaryLou gets in the driver's seat as my mom gets in the passenger's seat.

"Everybody ready?" MaryLou smiles as she begins driving. Nick, Chris, and my mom all nod. I put my airpods in my ears and listen to music. This is gonna be a long ride.

-

After being in the car for 9 hours, stopping occasionally on the way to go to the gas station and whatnot, we finally made it to a hotel. I live in Boston, as well as the triplets. We are going to Orlando Florida. 19 hours away and we still had 10 more to go. 10 more hours.

"I'm so tired." I say as we all walk into the hotel. "Me too." Chris nods.

We check in to the hotel and go on the elevator to the 3rd floor. Once we get there my mom speaks, "Okay so we are gonna have rooms in pairs. MaryLou with me in room 105, Chris with Nick in room 106, and Matt with y/n in room 107." My face drops.

"No. I am not sharing a room with Matt." I shake my head. Matt glares at me as my mom speaks, "you two need to get over whatever hatred you have for each other. It will be perfect for you to bond. You're sharing a room whether you like it or not." I roll my eyes, "Fine."

Marylou hands everyone their room key and we all go to our rooms. When I open the door my face drops in disbelief. Only one bed. "Where are you gonna sleep?" I ask, turning to face Matt.

"In the bed." He states blankly. "I'm not sharing a bed with you. You can sleep on the floor or something." I say, sitting on the bed.

He sits on the bed next to me, "I'm sleeping in the bed whether you like it or not." I sigh, "Fine but keep some distance." He nods and I head to the bathroom to shower.

After I've showered I wrap the towel around myself, brush my teeth, and do my skincare. I realize I forgot to grab pajamas from my bag in the room so I walk out of the bathroom and get some pajamas from my backpack. I see Matt looking at me before turning away.

I walk back into the bathroom and get dressed. I put my hair in two french braids and walk to the bed, I lay down and Matt rolls his eyes, muttering something underneath his breath. He stands up and stomps into the bathroom. A minute later I hear the shower turn on. I drift off to sleep.

-

I wake up and try to move but then stop, realizing Matt's body was pressed against mine, his arm around my waist. I hear him breathing softly and feel his heart beating against my back. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm really comfortable right now. No y/n you can't be thinking about Matt this way.

I sit up and his arm wraps tighter around me before I push it away and go into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

-

"You ready to go yet?" Matt asks, sounding slightly annoyed. "Yeah." I grab my backpack and exit the hotel room, seeing My mom, MaryLou, Chris, and Nick all exiting their rooms.

"How did you guys sleep?" My mom asks softly. "Good." Nick and Chris say in union, Matt and I not saying anything.

My mom tilts her head at Matt and I. "what about you two?" I look at the floor, trying to avoid Matt's gaze. "I slept fine." I lie, knowing I slept the best I have in a long time. Matt nods his head, agreeing with me.

"Well, we better get going!" MaryLou says happily and we all walk to the elevator.

-

"I have to sit back there again?" "Yes y/n Chris and I already agreed we were all gonna sit in the same spots that we sat in yesterday." Nick says, sitting down in his seat.

I roll my eyes and sit by Matt. This time he looked up at me, stared for a moment, then looked back down at his phone. It's okay y/n, you only have to sit by him for 10 more hours.

-

"We're here!" Marylou sings loudly. "Finally." I mutter, stepping out of the car. I grab my bags and suitcase from the trunk and walk up to the vacation home we're gonna be staying in.

I walk in, everyone following behind me. "Theres only 3 bedrooms so MaryLou and I discussed what we'll do." My mom says, looking at Marylou. "We are each gonna share a room with the person we shared the hotel rooms with. Nick with Chris, MaryLou with me, and Matt with y/n."

My eyes widen "What?" Matt glares at me. "Y/n you'll be fine. You and Matt need to spend some time together." MaryLou smiles softly.

"Which room is it?" My mom points to a room and I walk in, setting my bag down on the bed. Of course there was only one bed. I didn't even question where Matt was gonna sleep.

-

I wake up and realize this time Matt wasn't holding me from behind, I was resting my head on his chest, my arms wrapped around his waist, and his hand resting on my hip. I sit up and go to the bathroom to get ready, same thing I do everyday.

-

"Matt I need your help." I say, unzipping my suitcase that's on the bed next to where Matt's sitting. Matt looks up from his book with an annoyed expression on his face "What do you want?"

I pick up two bikini sets "Black or blue? I don't know which one to wear first." He looks at me for a moment "Blue." I smile at him and he shakes his head, looking back down at his book.

I head to the bathroom and change into my blue bikini set. I put on some shorts and a t-shirt over it. When I go back into the room I see Matt shirtless and notice he put on blue swim trunks.

I look down, grab a beach towel, and walk out of the room. I walk to the car where MaryLou, my mom, Chris, and Nick are all waiting. I sit in the same seat Nick and Chris assigned me. Matt walks out and sits in the car next to me a few moments later. Matt looks at me and then looks away quickly.

"Let's get to the beach!" My mom says happily.

How am I gonna keep my eyes off of Matt. Shirtless Matt.

-

"CHRIS!!!" I laugh as he pushes me into the water with him. I look over and see Matt glaring at us, I quickly look away.

"You two lovebirds having fun?!" MaryLou shouts at Chris and me from the spot her and my mom are laying at. Chris smirks at me and I hit his chest playfully, but I probably shouldn't have because he picked me up and threw me at Matt who was standing in the water next to us.

Matt wraps his arms around me to catch me and then pushes me back towards Chris. "Chris stop doing stupid shit." Matt says angrily. Chris looks at Matt and sticks his tongue out, acting like a child.

"Chris you're acting 5 right now." Nick laughs as Chris turns to face me, wrapping his arms around my waist "You love it, don't you?" Matt clenches his jaw, clearly not liking what Chris just said to me.

"I do not, Christopher!" I giggle, shaking my head. Matt grabs my wrist and drags me away from Chris. "Let go of me!"

Matt keeps a tight grip on my wrist, dragging me to where my beach towel lays. He grabs it and turns to face me, letting go of my wrist. He wraps it around my body and grabs my wrist again, walking towards the car.

"What are you doing?" I try to get my arm away from him but he grips my wrist tighter. "We're going back to the vacation home." I furrow my eyebrows, "what? No, not yet."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we aren't."

He stops, letting go of my wrist as he turns to face me. He grabs my shoulders and looks into my eyes with an unreadable expression.

"I need to talk to you, so we are leaving." I furrow my eyebrows out of confusion, "about what?" He sighs, "just come with me." I nod and he grabs my hand, leading me to the car. We sit in the seats we usually do and everyone else comes in the car too.

-

When we get back to the vacation home Matt grabs my hand and leads me into the room we're staying in, shutting the door behind us. He sits on the bed and I sit next to him.

"What did you wanna talk to me about?" He takes a deep breath before responding, "I don't hate you. I thought I did, but I don't."

"So you wanna be friends with me now?" I question, looking up at him. He shakes his head, "I think I'm falling in love with you." My eyes widen and he continues to speak, "I know you don't-" "I'm actually in love with you, I just acted like I hated you because I thought you hated me."

His eyes widen and he grabs my face, making me look at him, "I love you, y/n."

"I love you, Matt." I smile and he presses his lips against mine.

The end.

____________________________________________

a/n: this is horrible. There might be an epilogue but idk. I put all 3 parts together for this since they were so short and could all be 1 part.

[xenyasplacex]

Baby Trapped— Chapter 3

Summary: Another Sacrifice has to be made

Warnings: Physical abuse, emotional Abuse, Chris having a horrible partner, Swearing, crying

i think that’s it, if i’ve missed anything please let me know

A/N: HEYYYYYYY….so urm…this is really late. I apologise. Pls don’t murder me xx

chapter 2 — Chapter 4

Chris sat in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. His chest ached, and his vision blurred from the tears he tried so desperately to hold back. Adriana babbled softly in the backseat, completely unaware that her father had just cut ties with the only family he had ever truly known.

He felt hollow. Numb. The weight of Aaliyah’s words echoed in his mind

“You don’t need them, Chris. You need me.”

Then why did it feel like a part of him had just died?

The car ride home was quiet, except for the occasional sniffle that escaped Chris. He couldn’t let Adriana see him break down, even though it felt inevitable. As he pulled into the driveway of their home, he exhaled shakily, trying to gather himself before stepping inside.

He had no idea what version of Aaliyah would be waiting for him.

Would it be the woman who smiled sweetly and kissed him like he was the only person in the world? Or would it be the tyrant who left him with bruises and a fractured body… and soul?

As he stepped through the front door, Aaliyah was already sitting on the couch, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone like nothing had happened. When she heard him enter, she turned to face him with an expectant look.

“Well?” she asked.

Chris swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s done,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aaliyah grinned, standing up and walking towards him. She cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over the faint remains of his bruises. “See?” she cooed. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Chris didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

She sighed, rolling her eyes before taking Adriana out of his arms. “Dinner’s in the fridge if you’re hungry,” she said nonchalantly before heading upstairs.

Chris stood frozen in the entryway, feeling like a stranger in his own home. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating him. His mind screamed at him to leave, to run, to take his daughter and never look back. But his body refused to move.

Instead, he found himself walking to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto his face. He gripped the edges of the sink, staring at his reflection. His eyes were bloodshot, his face hollow, his skin paler than usual. He barely recognized himself anymore.

“You’re pathetic.” Aaliyah’s voice echoed in his mind. “A coward.”

Chris let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was a coward. If he wasn’t, why hadn’t he left? Why had he let her strip away every piece of his identity until all that remained was… this?

A shell of the person he used to be.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. His heart leapt as he pulled it out, praying it wasn’t Aaliyah checking in to make sure he wasn’t talking to his brothers. But when he looked at the screen, his stomach dropped.

Nick: I know you’re not gonna answer, but when you finally realize the truth, we’ll be here. We’re never gonna stop fighting for you.

Chris’s breath hitched, his thumb hovering over the message. He wanted so badly to respond, to tell his brothers how much he missed them already, how much he hated himself for what he’d done. But he knew if Aaliyah ever found out, she’d make good on her threat. She’d take Adriana away from him.

And that? That was something he couldn’t survive.

So with a deep, shuddering breath, Chris deleted the message. And with it, the last remaining piece of himself.

 He started at himself in the mirror, really started at himself. Then he let out a low sob… then another… then he completely and utterly broke down.

The house in San Diego was big. Bigger than Chris expected. The high ceilings and massive windows made it feel cold and empty, despite the expensive furniture Aaliyah had picked out. The dark brown wood floors— the ones he’d been punished for having an opinion on— creaked slightly under his feet as he carried the last of the moving boxes inside.

“Be careful with that,” Aaliyah snapped from the kitchen. “It’s fragile.”

Chris didn’t even respond. He just set the box down and exhaled, his hands resting on his hips as he took in his new reality. This was it. His new home. His new life. No brothers just a short drive away, no safe place to run when things got bad.

Just him, Aaliyah, and the daughter he was trying so hard to protect.

Adriana was in the living room, playing with the few toys Chris had unpacked for her. She was giggling to herself, stacking blocks and knocking them over, completely oblivious to the tension in the air. She didn’t have a care in the world, didn’t seem to understand the danger she was in. Chris envied her.

“Chris, are you even listening to me?” Aaliyah’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” He turned to face her.

Aaliyah sighed, rolling her eyes. “I said, we need to start setting up Adriana’s room today. I don’t want her sleeping in our bed anymore. She’s getting too old for that.”

Chris hesitated. Back home, whenever Adriana had nightmares, she’d crawl into bed with him, curling up against his chest as he stroked her hair until she fell asleep. It was the only time he ever really felt at peace.

“I don’t know if she’s ready—”

“She is ready.” Aaliyah cut him off sharply. “You baby her too much. She needs to learn independence, Chris.”

Chris clenched his jaw, but he nodded anyway. There was no point in arguing. There never was.

Hours passed as they unpacked more boxes. Aaliyah gave orders, and Chris followed them like a well-trained soldier. He barely registered what he was doing anymore— just moving, organizing, doing whatever he could to keep the peace.

By the time Adriana’s room was set up, the sky outside had turned dark. She was curled up in her new bed, hugging her stuffed elephant, her little chest rising and falling peacefully. Chris sat beside her, brushing her curls away from her face.

“I love you, Adi,” he whispered.

She stirred slightly, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes. “Love you too, Daddy,” she mumbled before drifting off again.

Chris stayed there for a moment, just watching her. He wished he could freeze time— stay right here, just him and his daughter, where everything was safe. But reality was waiting for him just outside that bedroom door.

And sure enough, when he finally stepped into the hallway, Aaliyah was there.

“Chris, come to bed,” she said, her voice softer than usual.

He hesitated. A part of him wanted to tell her no, that he wanted to sleep on the couch, that he needed space. But that part of him had no fight left. So he nodded and followed her to their bedroom.

As he lay in bed beside her, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, Aaliyah rested her head on his chest, tracing lazy patterns on his skin. To anyone else, they might look like a couple in love. But Chris knew better.

“You made the right choice, you know,” she murmured against his skin. “Cutting them off. It’s just us now, the way it should be.”

Chris didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his choices suffocate him.

He had done what she asked. He had sacrificed everything.

So why did he feel more trapped than ever?

The next morning 

Nick sat in the passenger seat of Matt’s car, gripping his phone as the little blue dot on the screen slowly moved south.

“I knew he wouldn’t get rid of the car,” Nick muttered. “She probably forced him to block us, delete our numbers, cut off every possible contact, but she forgot about the one thing Apple never fails at— AirTags.”

Matt, gripping the steering wheel, squinted at the road. “Are we really sure about this?” he asked. “Like, really sure? Because I feel like we’re two seconds away from committing an actual crime.”

Nick scoffed. “Since when do you care about crime?”

“I don’t know, Nick, maybe since we’re literally tracking our brother like two psychopaths in a rental car.”

Nick waved him off. “Relax, we’re just checking in. We don’t have to do anything, we just… need to make sure he’s okay. Besides, if we were actually criminals, would we have stopped for snacks?” He pointed to the open bag of Doritos in Matt’s lap.

Matt sighed. “Fair point.”

They had planted the AirTag under the backseat of Chris’s car, i was a long shot— they weren’t even sure he still had the car after moving— but the moment they saw his location pop up, they knew they had to go.

The problem? He was four hours away.

“Okay, okay,” Matt said, refocusing. “We’ve been driving for, what, 3 hours now? Where’s he at?”

Nick zoomed in on the map. “Still in San Diego… looks like he’s at… oh, great. A HomeGoods…that one” He said, pointing to a huge furniture store.

Matt blinked. “HomeGoods?”

Nick groaned, tossing his phone onto the dashboard. “She’s got him furniture shopping, Matt. Chris hates furniture shopping. remember when he refused to furnish his room because he didn’t want to go to a furniture store until he was old and saggy?…She’s broken him.”

Matt gasped dramatically, making fun on Nick. “Oh my God. Do you think he’s picking out decorative pillows right now?”

“Worse. I bet he’s debating curtain patterns.”

Matt shook his head. “Nah. Not my brother. Not Christopher Sturniolo. This is worse than I thought. We need a plan.”

Nick crossed his arms, going back to the actual matter at hand. “Okay, obviously we can’t just storm into HomeGoods and rescue him—”

Matt smirked. “Can’t we?”

Nick gave him a look. “No, Matt, we can’t. That’s how we end up on national news. What we can do is wait outside, see if he’s alone, and—”

Before he could finish, the AirTag location updated. Chris’s car was moving again.

“Shit! He’s leaving!” Nick shouted. “We gotta go, we gotta go!”

Matt threw the car into drive so fast that Nick nearly slammed into the dashboard. “Follow them!” he yelled.

For the next fifteen minutes, they tailed Chris’s car through the streets of San Diego, keeping a safe distance like they were undercover FBI agents.

“Dude, he drives so slow,” Matt muttered.

“He’s got a kid in the car,” Nick reminded him.

Chris’s car eventually pulled into a quiet neighborhood. They watched from a few houses down as he got out, lifting Adriana from her car seat while Aaliyah walked ahead into the house.

There he was. Their little brother. Right in front of them.

Nick and Matt sat in silence for a moment, watching Chris disappear into the house.

“…So now what?” Matt asked.

Nick sighed, rubbing his face. “I have no idea.”

They had tracked him down. But getting him back? That was going to take more than an AirTag. Nick and Matt sat in the car, staring at Chris’s new house like two FBI agents on a stakeout.

“We should just go knock on the door,” Matt said.

Nick turned to him with the most are-you-stupid expression he could muster. “Yeah, great idea, Matt. And then Aaliyah calls the cops, we get arrested for trespassing, and Chris has even more of a reason to cut us off.”

Matt groaned, slumping in his seat. “Then what do we do, genius?”

Nick drummed his fingers on the dashboard, thinking. “We need a plan.”

“You need a plan,” Matt corrected. “I was ready to storm HomeGoods.”

Nick ignored him, watching the house. Chris had gone inside, but his car was still parked in the driveway. That meant he wasn’t planning on going anywhere soon.

“I say we wait a little,” Nick suggested. “Maybe catch him when he takes the trash out or something.”

Matt scoffed. “You really think Aaliyah lets Chris take out the trash?”

“…Good point.”

The two sat in silence for another minute, watching the house like professional spies. Then, Matt suddenly perked up. “Wait! I got it.”

Nick sighed. “Oh God.”

“No, seriously, listen,” Matt said, eyes lighting up. “What if we order him a pizza?”

Nick blinked. “What?”

“Think about it,” Matt said excitedly. “We send a pizza to his house, but when the delivery guy shows up, we’re the delivery guys.”

Nick stared at him for a long moment. “You want us… to pretend to be Domino’s?”

Matt grinned. “Exactly.”

“…That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, what’s your great idea?”

Nick thought about it for a second. “…I can’t believe you’re going to make me do this..”

Matt smiled. “I mean, what’s he gonna do? Not open the door for a pizza?”

Twenty Minutes Later

Nick and Matt stood outside Chris’s front door, decked out in their very professional pizza delivery disguises— which consisted of the sweats they were already wearing, baseball caps and sunglasses they found in the car.

“This is so stupid… we don’t even look like delivery guys, and when have you ever seen 2 people deliver 1 pizza.,” Nick muttered.

Matt knocked on the door. “Too late now.”

Footsteps. The door cracked open.

Chris stood there. His face was unreadable, just… staring at them.

Nick cleared his throat. “Uh. Pizza delivery?”

Chris blinked.

Matt held up the box. “Large pepperoni?”

Still nothing. Chris just stared. His expression unreadable, like he couldn’t decide if this was actually happening or if he was hallucinating from stress.

Then— footsteps.

Aaliyah’s voice, getting closer. “Chris? Who’s at the door?”

Chris’s eyes widened. Without hesitation, he snatched the pizza box out of Matt’s hands, shoved a crumpled twenty-dollar bill at them, and slammed the door shut.

Nick and Matt stood there, frozen.

“…Did he just—”

“—Yeah.”

A long silence.

Matt sniffled. “At least he paid for the pizza.”

Nick and Matt stood there in stunned silence, staring at the closed door like it had just personally betrayed them.

“…Did he seriously just take the pizza and shut the door in our faces?” Nick finally asked, his voice full of disbelief.

Matt sniffed dramatically. “Not even a ‘Hey guys, I miss you’ or ‘Wow, thanks for risking your dignity to bring me pizza.’ Just boom— door in the face.”

Nick crossed his arms. “Unbelievable. We raised him better than this.”

Matt turned to him. “We didn’t raise him.”

“We basically did,” Nick argued. “I mean, we share DNA. That’s like— I don’t know, a third of parenting.”

Matt rubbed his temples. “Okay, genius, what now? Because our brilliant plan just ended with us getting paid like actual pizza delivery guys.”

Nick thought for a second, then smirked. “We spy.”

Matt groaned. “Nick, we can’t just spy on him.”

Nick pointed at him. “That’s exactly what we can do.”

Inside the House

Chris stood in his living room, holding the pizza box like it was a bomb about to go off. Across from him, Aaliyah was eyeing him suspiciously.

“Who was that?” she asked, arms crossed.

Chris forced a laugh. “Uh… just the pizza guy.”

Aaliyah narrowed her eyes. “They looked weirdly familiar.”

Chris shrugged, opening the box as casually as possible. “Yeah, I dunno. Maybe you’ve just seen too many pizza guys.”

She didn’t look convinced, but before she could question him further, their daughter Adriana toddled in, saw the pizza, and gasped dramatically. “PIZZA!”

Chris immediately seized the distraction. “Yes! Pizza! Let’s eat!”

Aaliyah shot him one last suspicious look but let it go, sitting down at the table. Chris let out a quiet breath of relief.

He had barely gotten away with that.

Meanwhile…

Nick and Matt were crouched in the bushes outside like two of the worst spies in history.

Nick held up his phone, zooming in on Chris’s window. “I can see him. He’s eating our pizza like we’re just some random Uber Eats drivers.”

Matt sighed, adjusting his position. “Do you think he’s actually okay? I mean… the dude flinched when we showed up.”

Nick’s face hardened. “No. He’s not okay.”

Matt looked at him. “Then what do we do?”

Nick exhaled, watching through the window as Chris laughed at something Adriana said. It was forced. Fake.

Nick shook his head. “We get him back.”

Chris sat at the dining table, picking at his slice of pizza while Aaliyah scrolled through her phone across from him. Adriana was happily munching on a piece of crust, humming some tune she made up. The moment should have felt normal, domestic even, but Chris couldn’t shake the tension in his chest.

Aaliyah had barely said a word to him since he sat down. That was never a good sign.

Finally, she set her phone down with a sigh and looked at him. “So, who was really at the door?”

Chris froze mid-bite. “I told you. The pizza guy.”

Aaliyah leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Chris. I’m not stupid.”

Chris swallowed hard, feeling the familiar dread creep up his spine. He kept his tone even. “Ali, it was just the pizza guy.”

She stared at him, unblinking. “Then why did you look like you saw a ghost when you opened the door?”

Chris’s grip on his crust tightened. “I—” He scrambled for an excuse. “I wasn’t expecting the food to come that fast.”

Aaliyah scoffed. “Bullshit.”

Adriana looked up at the word. “Bullshit!” she repeated cheerfully.

Chris and Aaliyah both whipped their heads toward her.

“Adi, no,” Chris said quickly, eyes wide. “That’s a bad word.”

Adriana just giggled and went back to eating, completely unbothered.

Aaliyah sighed in frustration and pushed her plate away. “Look, I don’t know what you’re hiding, but if I find out you went behind my back, Chris…” She trailed off, letting the weight of her words hang in the air.

Chris forced himself to meet her gaze, nodding as if he wasn’t completely unraveling inside. “I swear, I’m not hiding anything.”

Aaliyah studied him for another long moment before finally leaning back in her chair. “Good. Because I’m so sick of feeling like I can’t trust you.”

Chris nodded again, chewing his food mechanically, pretending her words didn’t feel like a slow knife to the gut.

Lying to Aaliyah never ended well.

But telling the truth?

That could be even worse.

Chris lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. He could still feel the weight of Aaliyah’s stare from dinner, like she had burned her suspicion into his skin. He knew her too well—she wasn’t going to drop it. She was going to watch him, wait for him to slip up.

And if she found out Nick and Matt had been here?

He didn’t even want to think about what would happen.

Aaliyah shifted beside him, scrolling on her phone, the brightness illuminating her face in the dim room.

“Chris,” she said suddenly, not looking away from the screen.

His whole body tensed. “Yeah?”

“You changed your passcode.”

Chris’s heart nearly stopped.

“What?” he asked, forcing confusion into his voice.

Aaliyah turned her phone off and looked at him. “I tried to check something earlier, and it was different.”

Chris swallowed. He had changed it—just last week. He had told himself it was just to have a little privacy, just in case. But now, hearing Aaliyah say it out loud, it felt like he had committed a crime.

“I—I must’ve forgotten to tell you,” he said quickly. “I can change it back.”

Aaliyah didn’t blink. “Why’d you change it in the first place?”

Chris felt the mattress beneath him turn into quicksand. “I don’t know. Just… thought I should.”

Aaliyah sat up slightly, tilting her head. “You don’t know?” she repeated, voice sharp.

Chris exhaled, rubbing his face. “Ali, it’s not a big deal. You can have the new one.”

“That’s not the point, Chris,” she snapped. “The point is you didn’t tell me. You hid it. What else are you hiding?”

Chris clenched his jaw. This was how it always went—she would dig and dig until he had nothing left to give. Until she backed him into a corner so tight he couldn’t breathe.

“You know what? Forget it,” she said bitterly, throwing the blanket off her legs as she got up.

Chris sat up. “Ali—”

“I’m taking a shower,” she cut him off, grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom.

The second the door shut, Chris let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He rubbed his hands over his face, heart pounding.

This wasn’t going to end here.

She wasn’t going to let it go.

And if she kept pushing—if she really figured out what he was hiding—he was screwed.

The night had settled into a deep silence, the kind that made every creak in the house sound louder than it should. Chris stood in his bedroom, staring out the window, watching the headlights of a car parked at the end of the driveway. Matt and Nick had been sitting out there for what felt like forever, looking like they had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Chris swallowed hard. He knew what this meant—they weren’t giving up. They were here, outside his house, waiting for him to make a decision. Waiting for him to tell them what was really going on.

But he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

He took a deep breath, leaning against the window frame. His pulse quickened as he saw Matt and Nick talking, their heads close together, probably strategizing, probably trying to figure out how they were going to get him to crack.

They weren’t going to leave without a fight.

Chris glanced around the room, his mind racing. He knew he had to get out there, but not yet—not yet.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he quietly opened his bedroom door, trying not to make a sound. The last thing he needed was Aaliyah hearing him sneak out.

He tiptoed down the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. When he reached the front door, he peeked out through the blinds and saw Matt and Nick standing by the car, looking up at the house like they were expecting him.

Come on, Chris, he thought. Just tell them to go.

He reached for the door handle and quietly stepped outside, the cool air hitting him like a shock to his system. He carefully closed the door behind him, not wanting to alert Aaliyah to his movements.

“Matt. Nick,” he called out in a low voice, his heart pounding in his ears.

They both turned, surprised, but their faces softened when they saw it was him. Nick’s eyes widened, and Matt’s face immediately lit up.

“There you are, man!” Nick said, his voice a mix of relief and frustration. “We’ve been waiting for hours. What the hell, dude?”

Chris held up a hand, glancing around nervously. “What are you doing here?” he whispered. “You need to go. Now.”

Matt leaned forward. “Chris, you’re not fooling anyone. We know something’s going on. You’re not okay, and we can see it.”

Chris shook his head, taking a step back toward the house. “I can’t do this right now. Aaliyah’s in there. If she finds out, it’s over.”

Nick crossed his arms. “What’s over? I mean, seriously Chris, you really think you can just cut us off like this and act like nothing’s wrong?”

Chris clenched his fists at his sides. “I don’t have a choice. You need to leave.”

Matt took another step closer. “Chris—”

Chris cut him off, his voice harder now. “Listen to me! You need to go.”

There was a long silence as Nick and Matt exchanged glances, both of them looking like they were weighing their options. Chris could see the concern in their eyes, but he also saw the frustration, the hurt… and the fact that they weren’t going to leave without something…anything from him.

“Fine,” Chris muttered, his voice quieter now. “Meet me tomorrow. Denny’s. Midnight.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Denny’s?”

“Yeah, Denny’s,” Chris snapped, not having the energy to argue. “I’ll meet you there, but right now, I need you to leave.”

Matt looked like he wanted to say something, but Chris didn’t give him the chance.

“Just go,” he urged, his tone softer. “Please.”

Nick let out a frustrated sigh but nodded. “Fine. We’ll be there.”

With that, Chris turned and walked quickly back toward the house, not daring to look back. He could hear them talking in hushed voices behind him, but he didn’t want to hear it.

When he closed the door behind him, his heart was still racing. He stood there for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t believe he had agreed to meet them.

But he knew he had no choice. They were his brothers, and no matter what he had to do to protect his daughter, they had to know the truth.

He had to face it sooner or later.

He just hoped tomorrow didn’t come too soon.

Chris barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Matt and Nick standing outside, their faces full of concern, their words echoing in his head. We know something’s wrong.

He knew they wouldn’t let this go.

By the time morning rolled around, Chris felt like a zombie. Aaliyah barely looked at him as she got ready for the day, which, honestly, was a blessing. The last thing he needed was her picking up on his nerves.

“Don’t forget, we have a meeting with the interior designer at three,” she reminded him flatly as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

Chris simply nodded, staring at the steam rising from her mug, pretending to care.

“Also,” Aaliyah continued, scrolling through her phone, “I want to start looking at preschools for Adriana soon. Somewhere nice, not one of those basic-ass ones where they just let the kids finger paint all day.”

Chris blinked, forcing himself to engage. “Yeah… makes sense.”

Aaliyah side-eyed him. “You good? You look like shit.”

Chris forced a laugh. “Didn’t sleep well.”

Aaliyah just hummed in response, clearly uninterested in further conversation. Good.

Chris kept his routine as normal as possible. He helped Adriana with breakfast, took a shower, and went through the motions of his day. But the whole time, his mind was stuck on one thing—midnight at Denny’s.

The hours dragged. Every minute felt like an eternity. He spent the day dodging Aaliyah’s mood swings, pretending to care about kitchen backsplash colors, and making sure he didn’t say the wrong thing. By the time night rolled around, he was exhausted.

Adriana was asleep by ten. Aaliyah crashed not long after, but Chris waited. He had to be sure she was fully out before he made a move.

By 11:30, the house was dead silent.

Chris sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the clock, his leg bouncing anxiously. He knew sneaking out was a risk, but he had to do it.

Carefully, he stood up, tiptoeing to the dresser where he had left his keys earlier. He held his breath as he picked them up, terrified that the small clink of metal would wake her.

Nothing.

He exhaled slowly and moved toward the bedroom door.

One step.

Two steps.

Aaliyah stirred slightly in bed, shifting onto her side. Chris froze, barely breathing, waiting to see if she would wake up.

After a few long seconds, she was still.

Chris pushed forward.

He slipped out of the bedroom and down the hall, avoiding the floorboards he knew would creak. His heart was pounding so hard he swore it would wake the whole damn house.

By the time he made it to the front door, his hands were shaking. He slowly twisted the doorknob, wincing at the faint click as it unlocked.

The night air hit him like a wave.

He did it. He was out.

Chris didn’t waste a second. He jogged to his car, started the engine as quietly as possible, and rolled out of the driveway. As soon as he was a few blocks away, he finally let out the breath he had been holding.

Almost there.

—

The Denny’s parking lot was nearly empty when he pulled in. The neon lights buzzed softly, casting a yellow glow over the pavement.

Inside, at a booth near the window, sat Matt and Nick.

Chris parked and took a second to compose himself. He checked his phone.

11:58 PM.

Perfect timing.

He stepped out of the car and made his way inside.

As soon as Matt and Nick saw him, they both sat up straighter.

Chris slid into the booth across from them.

Nobody said anything at first.

Nick was the first to break the silence. “You actually came.”

Chris let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Guess I did.”

Matt leaned forward. “Chris… what the hell is going on?”

Chris stared down at the table. His fingers traced the edge of the menu, his mind scrambling for the right words.

He had been avoiding this conversation for so long.

But sitting here, across from his brothers—the two people who had been with him since birth—he realized something.

He didn’t have to do this alone.

Chris swallowed hard, finally looking up at them.

“I need help.”

Chapter 4

A/N:

[sturniololuvz]

Can you maybe do one where their sister is at a party but she doesn’t come home when she’s supposed to and they go out at like 1am to look for her and find her sat drunk at a bus stop talking to some homeless guy

“1AM”

It was nearly 1:07 AM when Chris’s phone lit up again. Another call. No answer. He slammed it down on the counter, jaw clenched.

“She’s not picking up,” he said, trying to stay calm.

Matt, who had just finished throwing on a hoodie, grabbed his keys. “She said she’d be back by midnight.”

Nick looked up from the couch, concern written all over his face now. “You think something happened?”

“I don’t know,” Chris muttered. “But she’s sixteen, she’s at some party full of idiots, and she’s not answering her phone. We’re going.”

Matt didn’t even argue. Nick was already grabbing a flashlight even though they’d be in the car. It was just instinct.

The car ride was quiet except for the occasional buzz of one of their phones. Still no answer. Chris drove like a man possessed, jaw locked, eyes darting to every sidewalk, every corner.

“I swear,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone, “if something happened to her—”

“She’s fine,” Matt said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “She’s probably just… drunk or forgot the time.”

“That’s the problem,” Nick mumbled.

They circled near the party house, but she wasn’t there. A few drunk teens were still stumbling out onto lawns. Chris rolled down the window.

“Yo,” he called to one guy, “you seen a girl? About five-four, black jeans, hair in a ponytail?”

The guy blinked. “Uh… she left like an hour ago? Said she was getting an Uber?”

Chris cursed and rolled the window up.

They turned a corner, heading toward the main street. And that’s when Matt pointed.

“There—bus stop.”

Under the dim, flickering light of the shelter, their sister sat on the bench, legs crossed, phone dead in her lap. Her eyeliner was smudged, hair a mess, and she was clearly drunk. She was talking animatedly to an older man bundled in coats, a shopping cart beside him.

Chris hit the brakes hard and was out of the car before it fully stopped.

“Are you serious right now?!” he yelled as he jogged toward her. “What the hell are you doing?!”

She blinked up at him, face flushed and expression sleepy. “Chris?”

Matt and Nick were right behind him. She held up a finger. “This is Greg. He gave me a granola bar.”

Chris stopped short, eyeing the man. Greg held up his hands, peaceful.

“She was cold. I gave her my blanket. She was nice.”

Nick stepped forward. “Hey, man, thanks. Really.”

Chris knelt in front of her, checking her face, her arms, her hands. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled. “Phone died… couldn’t get an Uber. So I sat down. Greg’s cool.”

“You scared the hell out of us,” Matt said, voice breaking a little.

Chris exhaled shakily. “You ever pull this again, I swear—”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes glassy now. “I didn’t mean to…”

Chris’s voice softened. “You’re lucky we found you. Do you know how many bad things could’ve happened?”

She nodded, and he helped her up, wrapping his hoodie around her shoulders.

They loaded her into the car gently. She curled up in the back, leaning on Matt. Nick turned in the front seat to look at her.

“Also… you reek. Like a wine cooler threw up on you.”

She smiled faintly. “Still better than Chris’s cologne.”

Chris glared at her in the rearview. “You’re grounded for, like, the next decade. Starting tomorrow. Tonight you’re sleeping with a trash can next to your bed.”

As they pulled away, Nick rolled down the window and tossed a twenty to Greg.

“Thanks for looking out for her, man.”

Greg smiled. “She talks a lot.”

Nick grinned. “Tell me about it.”

⸻

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09.

author’s note: this chapter was an intense one, hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much i enjoyed writing it. don’t forget to leave your thoughts down below the comments, and of course, have fun!

chapter one here.

chapter two.

chris was the first one to get out of bed, meaning he just open his eyes after trying to sleep the whole night. he didn’t get a fucking blink of rest. first because he was thinking about you, not being able to cope with the fact that he was partially responsible for making you feel at ease and sleep better which meant his touch and presence was good for you.

if his presence and care subconsciously calmed you down, that means it’s worth a shot, right?

he sighs, that leads to the second thing that kept him awake.

matt, of course. that was probably the first time they argued over a girl. they never had the same type, but this isn’t about type. it’s about you. and although he wasn’t sure if his brother had actual romantic feelings, the voice of intuition inside his head screamed yes over and over again.

he grabs his phone on the nightstand next to the bed and checks the time before opening titkok in order to make the thoughts go away, occasionally chuckling at some dumb weird ass videos on his for you page, but that wasn’t working as much as he wanted to. chris ponders for a while, staring at the ceiling and decides it’s best to take a shower, he throws his phone on the bed and slowly gets up, almost crawling to the bathroom.

the boy closes the door behind him, taking his clothes off and grabbing his toothbrush, immediately brushing his teeth as he goes start the shower head, stepping in and letting out a sigh of relief, the warm water relaxing the tense muscles of his back and shoulders. he suddenly catches himself thinking about last night again. both the good and bad events, you’ve been friends for so long and nothing like that happened before, sure, he already had a crush, but the urge to fight for you was definitely unforeseen.

he never thinks twice when it comes to fighting guys that are assholes to you, but that never happened because you knew how to defend yourself pretty well. as a matter of fact, that’s part of the reason why he’s so attracted to you, but that’s besides to point, the thing is that you’ve dated other guys before and he didn’t care about it, it was like he just came to terms with the fact that he never had a chance to begin with, he was convinced no guy will ever be good enough for you, not even him. that’s why he never said anything and… oh, right. also the fact that it could ruin your friendship completely.

however after last night, something changed that led to the conflict inside him. well, not something. someone. his own brother, for the first time in years he saw matthew acting without thinking. the matt from some days ago would never let you get to his head, not the mention the sudden move. he showed interest to literally no girls for a long time, but then tries to kiss you? the one he claims to despise to the core?

chris realized he has been there for more than 10 minutes and if nick finds out, he’d be dead. so, he finishes washing off the shampoo from his hair and the toothpaste foam from his lips, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist before walking over to the mirror and taking a glance at himself while placing his toothbrush inside the holder. he runs a hand through his wet hair falling over his eyes, pushing it back and opening the door still looking at the mirror.

“you’re such a narcissistic.” you said standing at the door frame of the bathroom, arms crossed and a smirk on the lips.

actually, you‘ve been awake for a while, but the house was quiet and you never leave the room when you guys have sleepovers before chris and nick does. you weren’t a very nice person right after waking up and facing matt’s comments in that state would actually turn gruesome really fast. the only reason why you got up was because god gave you the useless talent of distinguishing chris laughter by the way he squeaks. you’re quite proud of it, in secret, of course. knowing him, he was probably on tiktok before heading to the shower, you waited for a while and finally left the guest room exactly when he was about to get out of the bathroom.

your eyes were unconciously catching every detail of him, the wet hair he just brushed back and the few strings still falling over his eyes, making small water drops fall on his chest.

being the closest person to nick and chris probably meant that you already saw them leaving the bathroom after a shower using only a tower over their waist a million times right? wrong.

it’s in fact the first time you see so much of chris body, one thing is to see him shirtless on daily basis, and a whole different when he’s naked, just with a piece of cloth over his… dick.

of course you thought he was hot before, more like acknowledging it and not making it a big deal, after all, he was your best friend, but right now, that didn’t matter. you felt actual attraction to him, real bad. without thinking, you bite your lip, not being able to stop your eyes from casting down, admiring his well figured. his slightly defined torso, his collarbones, his lower stomach and then… his groin.

“like what you see?” his husky voice makes you avert gaze to his stupid cocky smirk, he knew you were thirsting over him.

“maybe.” you murmur smiling, you weren’t scared of exposing yourself, not now, not ever. nick and chris always tease you for having a flirty personality so your response wasn’t a surprise, wherever you start jokingly flirting with him, he would laugh and give right back to you, not taking it seriously.

but this time he didn’t laugh, he leaned closer to you without needing to actually walk, you both were already face to face, thanks to your decision to stand in the door frame, his post shower scent making a funny tingling sensation rush over your body.

chris swallows, his eyes fixed into yours. he loves the way you're always so bold, confident and fucking bossy. it’s a side of you he's seen often at parties you guys go to and even at hangouts, but he never experienced it being directed at him until now, and that makes his confidence grow more and more by second, so he decides to go for it, inclining his whole body against yours, standing so close that drops of water from his wet hair started falling on your chest making you shiver from the coldness. the towel over his waist didn’t not prevent you from looking down.

he catches your gaze drifting down to it before moving back up to his eyes. “sure, that’s definitely a maybe.” he smirks at you, clearly amused by the way you were salivating over him.

“it’s not a secret to anyone you’re hot, is it?” you raise a brow at him, arms crossed. his minty breath against your face making you wonder how good it would feel to kiss him.

“and yet you still feel like it's something worth pointing out." he lifts his hand and gently tugs on the collar of your tank top, pulling you even closer to the point where you actually felt his dick brushing against your stomach.

“meaning?” you know what he meant, but engaging the interaction was actually interesting. you were aware this was affecting him just as much it was affecting you.

chris looks down, his eyes meeting yours. his hand is still grasping the collar of your top, holding you closer to him.

“you know exactly what i mean.”

“i do.” you whisper, shivering with the closeness and following his gaze. “but i want you to say it.”

he glances down at your mouth, his eyes lingering there for a moment before looking back up at you. there’s not a chance of him backing down now, fuck his fears, fuck matt and fuck all of his worries from earlier. you managed to awaken a side of him no one else knew, not even him. he shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, this time he only leans his head a bit closer, since it was almost impossible to get his body closer to yours. unfortnunelly.

he goes for your ear, lips brushing against your it as he asks. “you want me to say how much i know you're attracted to me?"

the sensation of his breath on your ear definitely got to you, it was one of your weakest spots and the asshole already knew that because you tell him everything.

but you couldn’t let him get away with it.

“no.” you let your hand cup his face, putting pressure around his chin with your fingers to turn his face to you. “i want you to admit how much you enjoyed the way i just looked at you.” your eyes glued to his and your signature smirk on the lips making him laugh in a mixture of surprise and lust at your forwardness.

“can’t say i didn’t.” you noticed his eyes darkened with a hint of lust when he dropped his gaze, wandering over your partly exposed chest, the tank top so tight he could see the tiny metal balls of your nipple piercings standout, chris feels goosebumps all over, his minding racing with the thought of taking your boobs into his mouth and licking the metallic taste of it while you moan his name. he lets out a soft gasp, the combination of the pressure of your fingers on his face and the friction of his dick brushing against your stomach not helping.

“like what you see?” you ask noticing how lost he was in thoughts and he frowns, feeling annoyed because you used his words against him. no matter how much anyone tries to make you lay your guard down, to get a shy reaction or even a stutter from you, it has never worked and he wanted badly to be the first one actually doing so, but he figured this wasn’t the timing. plus he was starting to get hard and if nick or matt walked on you both, things would get really awkward.

“there’s no winning against you, huh?” chris chuckles softly, taking a step back and you laugh a little trying to hide your disappointment from him.

“that’s because guys are weak.” you say loosening the grip on his chin and rolling your eyes, he just gives you a “whetever” face and heads to his room, pretending he wasn’t about to throw up his own heart.

you watch him until he gets to his room, a pleasant grin across your lips. all these years being friends with chris, he never really tried anything like that before. as a matter of fact, you didn’t even know he was so confident, he’s usually sweet and nonserious around you so that left you impressed and surprised… in a good way.

you shrug thinking that was definitely interesting and turns to the hall, the intention was to go to the living room but that didn’t go as planned when your face bumped aggressively into something hard as rock.

you hated that you instantly knew.

ever since last night's incident, tiny fragments got stuck with you. his scent, his presence and the warmth of his body. it's almost like you suddenly developed the power of being able to recognize him just by your skin touching his.

it was fucking matt.

you sigh, dealing with matthew right now wasn’t what you wanted. not because you felt intimidated by him, but because you didn’t want to play his little games today.

he gives you the usual mocking stare and smirk, crossing his arms.

here we go. you thought, ready to roll your eyes at whatever childish comment he was about to make and not engage.

but he just stood there for a while, arms folded, his usual stone cold demeanor ever present. he looked at you with a mix of irritation and annoyance, but beneath that, you could tell something else seemed to be lurking. for a second you thought he wasn’t gonna say anything and prepared yourself to go on your way, but his piercing gaze remained fixated on you, that made you stay for some reason.

and then he spoke.

“you can’t control your hormones or something?” he almost yelled. “always flirting with everyone, now even with chris.” matt laughs ironically and asks you. “isn’t that what they call a bop, though?”

you can’t help but laugh right back at him in the exact same tone, like, really loud.

of course he would use that term at some point, he was just like that type of guy. so you decided to play the game, anyways.

you get closer to him not giving a shit about how you were crossing his physical boundaries since he crossed yours first a night ago.

“not really.” you whisper to him, eyes piercing cold directly into his. “it’s called being confident and taking risks to enjoy life without denying your own true desires.” you lean even closer, not breaking eye contact for a second and giving him your best fake smile. “but what would you know about that, right?” at this point, the fake smile turned into a satisfied one with the feeling of already knowing that what you were about to say was gonna make him incredibly mad. “you couldn’t even admit to yourself how much you wanted to kiss me last night and just ran away to your room like a pussy.” you scoff and walk to the living room still looking at him as you leave, letting a dumbfounded matt behind.

chris was right.

there’s no winning against you. and never will be.

[mattsturnioloz]

I found you again.

(‘Then I lost you’) Part 2.

Summary: Sequel of ‘Then I lost you’, A year after a devastating break up, Y/n finds herself reuniting with the love of her life, Matt Sturniolo, at a mutual friends birthday party. Will they rekindle their love?

Warnings: I don’t think there is any??

Pairings: Y/n x Matt sturniolo

A/N: (i’m so sorry this took so long but i love you all thank you for being patient, this is so rushed not my best work)

I wake up to birthday wishes from some family and friends. They’re telling me to go live up my 21st birthday and to go out and get drunk but I know damn well i’m gonna be soaking up my misery. My first birthday alone. I always spent my birthdays with the triplets because they were also my family and it’s been almost a year since Matt and I broke up. I still hang out with Nick and Chris but it’s not the same.

I get out of bed like usual, it’s just a normal day. But somehow it feels sadder, lonelier. I change into some black sports shorts and a black t shirt for the gym. I put on some sneakers and I put up my hair before grabbing my purse and keys along with my headphones, hooking them around my neck.

I go to my car, putting music on and decide to stop by a coffee shop to get myself a drink. I head to the gym and I work out for about an hour and a half before walking out to the parking lot and getting back in my car heading home.

When I arrive, I walk to the bathroom and I take a shower, taking at least an hour just staring at the white tiled walls, taking in the warm feeling of the water roaming down my body. I finally get out and decide to do my makeup just to stay home.

When I finish, I make myself breakfast and I watch tv, occasionally checking my phone, which is getting 10 new messages every minute. All these people yet.. I’m still sitting here.. alone.

I turn down the volume on the tv, and I feel myself already starting to doze off. The sound of my washer and dryer running, the sound of the whispers coming from the tv, the sound of my ac roaring through my small house. All this sound but it’s still so silent.

I fall asleep and jump awake when I hear knocking at my door. I slowly get up, opening the door.

“SURPRISE!!!” Says Nick and Chris with a huge smile on their faces, Nick holding a cake and Chris with a party hat on, a kazoo in his hand.

“Oh my goodness you guys!!” I say with a huge smile on my face. “Happy Birthday!” Chris says tackling me in a hug. “Thank you..” I feel like crying, but I don’t and Nick joins the hug.

“I know you don’t like the attention on you, so we’re gonna go to tara’s party, you know since the attention will be on her but we can still celebrate your birthday.” Nick says with a smile on his face.

“I don’t know guys.. I’m not really feeling it this year..” I say sounding like a lazy slub. “If you’re worried about Matt, he’s not going.” Chris says, Nick smacking his shoulder.

“Oh..” I whisper, messing with my chain. “Come on, go get ready, we’ll be back to pick you up.” Nick hugs me. “Ughhh finee..” I groan, making my way to the room as they set my cake on the table and chuckle as they head out.

I go to my room and change since my makeup was already done. I change into a silk simple white dress and I crimp my now, short hair. Honestly I don’t know why I cut it. Maybe I do.. They say hair holds memories and after Matt and I broke up, it seemed right.

I put some white red bottom stilettos on to match the dress before putting on jewelry and perfume. I finish up and text Nick that i’m ready and he says that they’re on the way. Who the hell is driving? Nick and Chris can’t drive for shit.

I leave my house when I hear them pull up, locking the door behind me. I get in the backseat where nick and chris are. “This is an uber?” I ask them a little confused. “yea we figured it’d be weird if Matt drove” Chris says awkwardly.

Right. But why was I hoping to see Matt? I decide not to ponder on it TOO much. “How is he?” I ask almost regretting asking. They exchange awkward glances. “He’s good actually.. Uh well-“ Nick says immediately stuttering looking at Chris for help.

I raise my eyebrows waiting for him to tell me. “Well??” I ask, my heart beating faster, the anxiety rushing through my veins and I get chills, a pit in my stomach from the build up. “Matt actually.. he’s in a new relationship.” Chris says avoiding eye contact and my hearts sinks. “He has a girlfriend.”He adds on, twiddling his thumbs.

I nod and smile putting on a front and my chest has an empty feeling. “That’s great, I’m happy for him..” I smile and they both nod but they know that I wasn’t really happy about it. I look out the window with the feeling simmering through my body. i’ll never have a chance again.

839 words.

A/N: (I hate this so much omg but I couldn’t delay any longer, i’ve been busy and going through a lot but thank you for being patient, I know it’s short but let me know what you guys think so farrr)

Taglist: @watercolorskyy @chrissfleshlight @realuvrrr @stonermattsgf @pvssychicken @venusbabysblog @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @endereies @imwetforyourmom @starzinasblog @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry @asherrisrandom @tsturniolo4 @urmom69lol @luzsturniolo @victoriasturniolo @ncm9696 @valkatriee @sturnslut1 @annielolz @sturnlover4eva @slxtarchive @luzsturniolo

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbor (matthew sturniolo)

pt 11

When we finally made it home, Matt parked the car, and everyone piled out sluggishly. Chris and Nick bumbled their way inside, clearly still drunk, with Charlie trailing behind them, her shoes in her hand. Matt and I hung back for a moment, letting the others disappear into the house.

As soon as the door closed, Matt wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and full of warmth.

I nodded, leaning into him. “More than ready.”

We headed inside, quietly making our way upstairs to my room. I kicked off my boots, tossing my bag onto the chair in the corner. Matt pulled off his shirt, throwing it toward the hamper before collapsing onto the bed. I followed, crawling in beside him, and he pulled me close, his arms wrapping protectively around me.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my forehead.

“Goodnight, Matt,” I whispered back, already drifting off.

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the blinds, gently waking me. I blinked a few times, finding myself completely entangled with Matt. My head rested on his chest, one of his arms draped over my waist, while our legs were a twisted mess beneath the covers.

I tilted my head up to see Matt already awake, scrolling through TikTok on his phone. When he noticed me looking, he gave me a lazy smile. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning,” I mumbled, my voice still heavy with sleep. I snuggled closer, resting my chin on his chest. “What are you watching?”

He tilted his phone so I could see. “Just dumb TikToks. Want to join?”

We spent a few minutes scrolling together, laughing at the ridiculous videos. Then, when a fortnite edit came through his fyp, an idea popped into my head. “Hey, Matt,” I said, propping myself up on my elbow.

“What’s up?” he asked, glancing at me.

“Do you think you could help me get a PC? I kind of want to play Fortnite again,” I admitted, biting my lip nervously.

Matt grinned, setting his phone down. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I miss playing.”

“Well, alright,” he said, stretching. “Get ready. We’re going shopping.”

Excitement bubbled up inside me as I scrambled out of bed. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” he replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. “I’ll make sure you’re set up with the best.”

I smiled, practically running toward the bathroom to get ready. 

I quickly slipped into a tight black cropped sports top and a pair of high-waisted biker shorts, tying my hair back into a sleek ponytail. Sliding on my hoka’s, I grabbed my phone and bag, practically skipping down the stairs. When I stepped outside, Matt was already in the car, leaning against the door with a grin on his face.

He looked effortlessly handsome in black sweatpants paired with a bear graphic  pink tee that somehow made him even cuter. As I walked toward him, he pushed off the car and met me halfway, pulling me in for a quick kiss. “You look cute,” he murmured against my lips.

“You’re one to talk,” I teased, smiling as I climbed into the car.

Matt hopped into the driver’s seat, adjusting his sunglasses as he started the engine. “Alright, PC shopping. Let’s get you back to gaming glory.”

The drive was filled with light banter and music, Matt occasionally glancing over to check on me. My excitement was contagious, and I could tell he was enjoying how thrilled I was about the idea of building a setup. When we pulled into the parking lot of the PC store, he parked quickly and turned to me with a smirk.

“Ready to spend all my money?” he teased.

I laughed, opening the car door. “No, I have my own money Matthew.”

“Hey, so I actually dont give a fuck.” He said as he pushed me into the store by my lower back.

We stepped into the brightly lit store, rows of tech and PC parts stretching out before us. “Alright, let’s build you the ultimate Fortnite machine,” he said, and I couldn’t help but beam at him.

We wandered the aisles of the PC store for what felt like hours, but in reality, it was only about thirty minutes. I was like a kid in a candy store, pointing out all the cute setups and asking Matt’s opinion on every piece. Finally, I decided on a pink-and-white PC tower with a tempered glass side panel to show off its RGB lighting. Matt helped me pick out two matching monitors, a light pink mechanical keyboard, and a sleek white mouse to complete the setup.

“You sure you don’t want the whole store while we’re at it? Lets get you a camera for streaming” Matt said as we approached the checkout counter.

“Yes!” I said, grinning ear to ear.

After paying, Matt hauled the bulky boxes out to the car, his biceps flexing as he balanced everything effortlessly. Meanwhile, I was bouncing up and down like I had just won the lottery. “Matt! We need a desk and chair now! This setup has to be perfect!”

“Let’s get this loaded first,” he chuckled, maneuvering the gear into the trunk.

Once he closed the trunk, I couldn’t hold back my excitement any longer. I grabbed his face with both hands and started peppering kisses all over it—his cheeks, nose, and even his forehead. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I squealed between kisses. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist to steady me. “Oh so now I am your boyfriend?”

“Who knows what you are,” I said, pulling back to look at him with a big grin. “This is the best day ever.”

“Let’s make it even better,” he said, smirking. “Next stop—desk and chair shopping.”

“Let’s go!” I cheered, practically skipping to the passenger seat as Matt shook his head, smiling at my excitement.

We pulled into the IKEA parking lot, and I was practically vibrating with excitement as we walked in. “Okay,” I said, grabbing Matt’s hand and tugging him toward the desks section. “I know exactly what I want.”

After wandering through the maze of furniture, I found it: a sleek, white L-shaped desk with built-in drawers on one side. “This is it,” I said, running my hand along the surface. “It’s perfect.”

Matt nodded, pulling out his phone to snap a picture of the tag so we could find it in the warehouse section. “Alright, what else do we need?”

I grinned and dragged him over to the chairs. “A gaming chair, obviously.” After trying out a few, I settled on a white-and-pink chair with a reclining feature and cushioned armrests. “This one matches the PC perfectly!”

Matt chuckled. “You’re really going all out, huh?”

“Absolutely,” I said, already imagining how the setup would look.

Once we loaded the desk and chair into the car, I looked over at Matt. “One more stop.”

He groaned playfully. “Where now?”

“Walmart,” I said, smirking. “I need a headset, a PS5 controller, and… a Fortnite V-Bucks gift card.”

Matt sighed but couldn’t hide his smile. “Fine. But this is the last stop.”

At Walmart, I darted straight to the electronics section, grabbing a white wireless headset, a pink PS5 controller, and a shiny Fortnite V-Bucks gift card. “Done!” I declared, holding up my haul triumphantly.

Matt shook his head, laughing. “You’re lucky im inlove with you, you're breaking my bank.”

“Ill pay fo-” I started but Matt quickly put his hand over my mouth.

“Shut the fuck up” He said putting his card into the machine.

We finally made it back to my house, where we started setting everything up in my room. Matt assembled the desk and chair while I organized the PC, monitors, and accessories. By the time we finished, that part of the room looked like a gamer’s paradise. The pink and white setup glowed softly under the dim lighting, and everything was perfectly arranged.

I spun around in my new chair, grinning up at Matt. “This is amazing. Thank you for helping me.”

He leaned down, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Matt leaned against the doorway, watching as I made the final adjustments to my new setup. The Fortnite download screen was prominently displayed on one of my monitors, the progress bar slowly crawling forward.

“Well,” he said, pushing off the doorframe, “I think I’m gonna head home while this downloads.”

I spun around in my chair, a pout forming on my lips. “What? You’re leaving me already?”

He chuckled, stepping closer and leaning down to cup my cheek. “We’re gonna stream, remember? You, me, and Chris. Only for a bit. I’ll be back tonight, though. ”

The mention of streaming made my face light up. “Oh my god, that’s going to be so fun. You’re going to regret it when I carry the team.”

Matt smirked, brushing a kiss on my forehead. “We’ll see about that, gamer. Text me when it’s ready, and I’ll join you and we can go over streaming rules.”

I got up jumping into his arms giving him a slow and sensual kiss “Thank you Matthew”

Matt kissed me one more time before putting me down, as he walked toward the door. “Your welcome sweetheart”

As he left, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and appreciation for the man Matt had become.

By the time Fortnite finished downloading, my entire setup was glowing in soft hues of pink and white. The room felt cozy and vibrant, exactly how I’d imagined it. I adjusted my headset, checked the camera angle for the stream, and smiled at my reflection on the monitor. It was finally happening—my first Fortnite stream with Matt and Chris.

At exactly 7 p.m., I texted Matt letting him know I was ready and I joined their discord.

“Ready,” I replied confidently, as Matt clicked the “Start Stream” button.

The chat immediately flooded with messages:

“Matt’s live!!!” “Wait, who’s the girl??” “She’s cute omg” “Not y/n 🙄”

Matt rolled his eyes at some of the negative comments but didn’t say anything. Chris plopped down on his chair finally in frame, already laughing. “Alright, Y/N, you better not hold us back. We’re going for wins tonight.”

“I’ll carry both of you,” I teased, readying up for the first game.

As the game loaded, the three of us bantered, with Matt explaining the stream rules like keeping the chat friendly (a rule that was immediately broken) and not leaking anyone’s location. The chat continued to blow up:

“Chris is hilarious, as always.” “Matt and Y/N are so cute together!” “Why is she playing? We miss the old streams.” “I love this dynamic, stop being haters.”

The first couple of games were a bit chaotic. Chris accidentally blew up our cover by throwing grenades too early, I fell off a cliff trying to build, and Matt had to clutch a victory for us by taking out the last three players on his own.

“You’re welcome,” Matt said smugly as the victory screen popped up.

“Whatever,” I replied, leaning toward my mic. “Chat, he’s only good because I revived him earlier. Don’t let him fool you.”

The chat lit up again:

“She’s hilarious, I love her.” “No way she’s taking credit for Matt’s win 💀.” “Chris is just here for fun.”

By the third hour, the energy was at an all-time high. We had a good rhythm going—Matt was the strategist, Chris was the chaos, and I was surprisingly decent as the sniper. During one game, I knocked two players from a ridiculous distance.

“Okay, sniper,” Chris said, impressed.

Matt laughed. “Guess she really is carrying us now.”

The chat loved it: “She’s cracked, omg.” “Finally someone who can make Matt humble.” “Chris needs to stop throwing grenades lol.”

Of course, not everyone was thrilled. “This feels like a couple's stream now, ew.” “Why is she even here? Chris deserves better teammates.”

Matt finally addressed the negativity after seeing my face scrunch up at one comment. “If you’ve got a problem with her being here, fuck off,” he said bluntly, pointing at the camera. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“Yeah suck it,” I said flipping off the camera as I knocked another player.

By the end of the night, we’d played for four hours, won three games, and spent the rest laughing at Chris’ terrible aim and Matt’s competitive streak. As we wrapped up the stream, the chat was a mix of love and chaos:

“Best stream yet!” “Chris and Y/N’s dynamic is gold.” “Matt’s defending her like his life depends on it, I’m crying.”

As Matt was wrapping up the stream, he leaned into the mic. “Alright, guys, we’re gonna end it soon, but Y/N’s gonna join us for a bit before we go.” He smirked, “Come on, sweetheart. Walk over.”

I quickly turned off my setup, tossed my headset onto the desk, and grabbed an oversized hoodie from my chair. Pulling it on over my outfit, I slipped into my sneakers and ran downstairs. Charlie was sprawled on the couch, watching the stream on her phone.

“NICE STREAM!” she shouted, making me laugh as I bolted out the door.

The cool night air sent a chill down my spine as I jogged across the yard to the triplets’ house. The shadows from the streetlights made everything seem a little eerie, and I picked up my pace. By the time I reached their front door, I was nearly sprinting.

“Ok, it’s actually scary as fuck out,” I announced, slightly out of breath as I walked into Matt’s room.

Matt was sitting at his chair with Chris behind him on the bed, both watching the stream comments roll in. Matt grinned when he saw me, Chris patting the space next to him. “Get in here.”

I stepped into the camera’s view and plopped down next to him. Chris threw an arm over my shoulder. “The real MVP has arrived,” he said, pointing at me.

“Obviously,” I replied, smirking at the camera.

The chat went wild:

“Y/N!!!” “Wait, she lives next to them?” “Not her being scared of the dark lmao.” “Chris looks so proud of her right now.”

We spent the next few minutes reading comments and answering questions. One user asked, “Y/N, what’s it like being with these two?”

“It’s like babysitting,” I replied without hesitation, earning a loud laugh from Chris and a look from Matt.

“Babysitting?” Matt repeated, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I don't know how you two survived without me for the last four years” I teased, leaning forward.

Another comment read, “Matt, you were so defensive of her earlier. Protecting your girl, huh?”

Matt smirked, resting his arm behind me on the bed. “Look at her, and tell me you wouldn't” he said simply, making me roll my eyes as the chat exploded with hearts and “he's mine.” comments.

Chris decided to take over the mic for a bit, answering a few random questions about his grenade mishaps and future stream plans. Meanwhile, Matt and I shared a quiet laugh about a particularly funny comment: “Chris, stop blowing stuff up!”

After a few more minutes, Matt addressed the chat. “Alright, guys, we’re calling it a night. Thanks for hanging out, and we’ll see you next time.”

Chris leaned into the mic one last time. “Peace out!”

As Matt ended the stream, he turned to me with a grin. “You did good tonight, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling back. “Now, where’s my victory snack?”

Chris stretched and gave a tired groan "Snacks it is," he announced, dragging himself up.

Matt stood and offered me a hand. “Come on, let’s raid the kitchen.”

We made our way to the kitchen, Chris pulling out a bag of chips while Matt grabbed cookies and a couple of sodas. I found a bowl and dumped some popcorn in, adding a sprinkle of salt. Together, we carried everything back to the living room and piled onto the couch.

Matt picked out a movie—an action flick that Chris had been raving about—and we settled in. Halfway through the second movie, I started scrolling through my phone absentmindedly. Chris had fallen asleep against my shoulder, his soft snores occasionally breaking the quiet. Matt had shifted during the film, and now his head rested in my lap, his even breathing telling me he’d fallen asleep too.

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Matt’s face. The moment felt peaceful, like everything in the world was just as it should be.

When the credits rolled, I nudged Chris gently. “Hey, sleeping beauty. Time for bed.”

He groaned but eventually sat up, stretching and mumbling something about needing his own pillow.

“Matt,” I said softly, running my fingers through his hair. His eyes blinked open, and he looked up at me sleepily.

“Bed?” he murmured, sitting up slowly.

“Yeah, come on,” I said, helping him stand.

Chris shuffled off to his room, muttering a simple “Now i'm wide awake”

Matt made his way to his bed, collapsing onto it without even pulling the covers up. Within seconds, he was fast asleep again.

I laid next to him, feeling strangely restless. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through TikTok and Instagram. The quiet of the house was soothing, but for some reason, sleep wouldn’t come. So I stayed up, enjoying the solitude and the hum of the night.

Unable to shake the restless feeling, I grabbed my phone and padded quietly into Matt’s room. The soft glow from his bedside lamp illuminated his peaceful face as he slept, his chest rising and falling steadily. I smiled faintly, but the moment was interrupted by his phone vibrating on the nightstand.

I ignored it at first, assuming it wasn’t anything important, but when it buzzed again, and again, worry crept in. Nick was at a friend’s house, and a small part of me panicked, wondering if it was an emergency.

Carefully, I reached for Matt’s phone, glancing at the screen. The name "Abbie" flashed repeatedly, with at least ten unread messages. My stomach twisted. I hesitated, but curiosity and concern won out. I entered Matt's password and opened the messages.

The texts from Abbie weren’t what I expected.

"Wow, so you’re just going to ghost me now that you’re with her? Classy." "Matt, I deserve an explanation. You can’t just act like nothing happened between us." "Does she even know what kind of guy you really are? Maybe I should tell her." "You’re such a coward. At least be man enough to admit it."

Each message was angrier than the last, dripping with bitterness and accusations. My heart started racing as I reread them, trying to process what I was seeing. Who was Abbie? What was she talking about?

I glanced over at Matt, still fast asleep, completely unaware of the storm building inside me. My hand gripped his phone tightly as my mind reeled. I needed answers, but waking him up now didn’t feel right. Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the screen, trying to figure out what to do.

I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I rushed out of Matt’s room, his phone still clutched tightly in my hand, and made my way down the hallway to Chris's room. The emotional overload was too much, the weight of everything crashing down on me. As soon as I pushed open the door, the sight of Chris sitting up in bed caught my attention, but all I could do was burst into tears.

Chris’s face instantly shifted from confusion to concern. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft and steady.

Without saying a word, I flashed Matt's phone in front of him, my tears blurring my vision. I didn’t need to say anything more — Chris’s face dropped as soon as he saw the texts. His eyes softened with sympathy as he quickly opened the blanket, motioning for me to come in.

I didn’t hesitate. I crawled into the bed, burying my face into the crook of his neck, unable to stop the tears that had been building up for so long. Chris wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, offering me the comfort I desperately needed.

“Who is she, Chris?” I choked out, my voice muffled as I held onto him tighter. “Why would he do this? Why didn’t he tell me about her?”

Chris didn’t answer right away. His hand gently rubbed my back as I cried, unsure of what to say, probably trying to figure out how to make it better. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm but firm. “I think you should sleep on it, Y/N. Get some rest. You’re not gonna find all the answers right now.”

I looked up at him, sniffling as my eyes searched his. “But, I need to know, Chris. I can’t just pretend it’s okay.” My voice wavered as I said the words, but it felt like the weight of everything was too much to carry alone.

Chris sighed deeply, his gaze softening. “I get it, Y/N. But, it’s not my place to tell you what happened with Matt and this girl. He’s the one who needs to explain it. You can talk to him in the morning, okay?”

I nodded, even though my heart felt heavy with doubt and hurt. All I wanted was to understand why things had turned out this way, and why Matt hadn’t been upfront with me. But for now, I was exhausted — emotionally and physically. I buried my face back into Chris’s chest, allowing myself a few moments of peace, hoping sleep would bring some clarity, or at least some calm.

Chris continued to hold me, his warmth offering me the only comfort I could find at that moment. We lay there in silence, me trying to gather my thoughts, him quietly offering me the safety of his presence. And slowly, despite the pain, my tears began to subside.

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, but it didn’t matter. My mind was racing, still reeling from the emotions of last night. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to drift back to sleep for a few more minutes of peace, but it was then that I heard the voices.

It started with a low murmur, but soon escalated into raised voices. Matt. Chris. They were yelling at each other.

I froze, not knowing what to do. My heart hammered in my chest. I pretended to stay asleep, but my ears were wide open, listening intently to every word.

“I told you, Matt, she found the fucking texts!” Chris’s voice was filled with frustration and anger.

“I don’t need you to tell me that!” Matt snapped back. “I know what happened, okay? She’s pissed, and she’s gonna be pissed at me, but I don’t need you making it worse!”

“You’ve already made it worse, man,” Chris shot back. “You can’t just hide shit from her like that. She deserves to know what’s going on. You’ve fucked up.”

Matt let out an exasperated sigh, followed by the sound of him running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck.” His voice was a mix of anger and stress. “I can’t deal with this right now. I just… I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Then don’t say anything at all until you figure it out,” Chris retorted. “But don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing, Matt.”

There was silence for a moment, and then the bed shifted as Matt’s footsteps approached. I felt my body being lifted gently, and before I knew it, I was placed on the soft bed, I knew it was Matt’s.

I heard Matt sigh heavily. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But I need you to stay here for a bit.” He paused. “Chris is right. We need to talk… but not right now. I need to figure out what the fuck to say to you.”

I stayed perfectly still, pretending to be asleep, but inside I was unraveling. What the hell had I just heard? What was Matt hiding? Why didn’t he tell me about Abbie, and why was Chris so angry about it?

The weight of the situation was pressing down on me, and I could feel the sting of betrayal, even though I hadn’t said a word yet.

Matt’s footsteps faded as he left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. I lay there for a few moments, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. But no matter how hard I tried to fight it, my emotions were a tidal wave, crashing over me with no sign of stopping.

Matt’s footsteps returned, and the door creaked open softly. My heart skipped a beat, my emotions still in turmoil from everything I had overheard. I stayed still, pretending to sleep, but I could feel the tension in the air.

“Y/N?” Matt’s voice was quieter now, almost regretful. “Can we talk?”

I didn’t respond right away, letting him stew in the silence. Finally, I sat up, rubbing my face with one hand and looking at him. His face was a mixture of guilt and frustration, like he was trying to figure out how to make things right.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands in his lap. “Look… I owe you an explanation.” He took a deep breath, the weight of what he was about to say heavy on his shoulders. “Before you and I really started… well, before this… I was with someone else.”

I blinked, trying to process his words, but he didn’t give me a chance to speak. He continued.

“There was this girl, Abbie. We were in a relationship, and it wasn’t perfect, but I was with her.” His voice cracked slightly, as though admitting this was a weight he hadn’t carried before. “Then, I found out you lived next door, and everything changed.”

I stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He ran his hands through his hair again, his frustration evident. “I tried to ignore it, Y/N. I tried to pretend like I didn’t feel something every time I saw you, but I couldn’t. And when we went on that trip together… everything just came to a head. I realized I didn’t want to be with her anymore.” He looked at me with pleading eyes. “I told her it was done. I ended things with her, but I never expected her to act the way she has.”

His gaze fell, and I could see the guilt on his face. “I never meant to hurt you. especially after seeing the TikTok Charlie accidentally posted. She’s been bombarding me with texts ever since.”

I sat there, speechless, processing what he was saying. A mix of emotions flooded over me—betrayal, anger, and confusion. I felt like I had been in the dark about something important, and now, I left just how I did in college.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered, the hurt in my voice evident.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he answered quickly. “I thought I could handle it without dragging you into it. But I realize now… I should’ve been upfront with you from the start. I’m sorry. I’ve been a fucking idiot.”

I was still reeling from the shock of everything he had just confessed. I wanted to be angry, but I didn’t know where to direct it. At Matt? At myself for trusting him after everything he had already put me through?

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, my voice shaking slightly. “I don’t know if I can trust you. Its fucking annoying, you couldve told me you had a fucking girlfriend. You told me you loved me before you ever broke up with her”

Matt’s face fell, and for the first time, I saw real regret in his eyes. “I get it. You don’t have to trust me right now, Y/N. But I swear to you, I want to make this right. I want you, and only you.”

I didn’t answer immediately, too lost in my thoughts. 

I stood up, feeling the weight of everything. “I need time to think, Matt. I really do.”

He nodded, standing up slowly. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I swear.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Instead, I turned away, walking out of his room. 

I walked out of Matt’s room, holding back the tears threatening to spill over. The moment I shut his door, I let out a shaky breath, my chest tightening. Without a second thought, I made my way to Chris’s room, my feet moving on autopilot. I needed someone, and Chris had always been my safe space before.

I pushed the door open, and Chris looked up from his phone, concern flashing in his eyes the second he saw me. “Y/N?” he asked, sitting up quickly.

Before I could say anything, the dam broke, and tears streamed down my face. Chris was on his feet in seconds, pulling me into a tight hug. “Hey, hey. What happened?” he murmured, guiding me to sit on the bed.

I wiped at my face, trying to catch my breath, but the words tumbled out in a rush. “I just feel like everything started with a lie, Chris. It hurts. After everything we went through in college, all the toxicity, I wanted this to be different. I thought it was different.”

Chris sighed, sitting down next to me and keeping a comforting hand on my back. “I get it, Y/N. I really do. But can I say something?”

I nodded, sniffling, unable to meet his eyes.

“I’m not sticking up for Matt,” he started carefully. “But I’ve seen him these past few years. He missed you so much, Y/N. For years, he didn’t even look at another girl. I think when you came back, he was just so desperate to get it right this time. He wanted to make it perfect. He didn’t want to mess it up again.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I stared at him, my mind racing. “Then why didn’t he just tell me? Why did he think lying, or hiding this, was the way to make it perfect?”

Chris shrugged. “Because he’s Matt. He overthinks everything, and when it comes to you, he’s always been a mess. He doesn’t know how to handle the fact that you’re his weak spot.”

I let out a shaky laugh, despite myself. “His weak spot?”

Chris smiled gently. “Yeah, and honestly? You’ve always been his biggest strength, too. Even when things were bad, you brought out the best in him. I think that’s why he panicked. He didn’t want to lose you again.”

I stayed quiet for a moment, letting Chris’s words sink in before I stood up. My legs felt unsteady, but I knew what I needed to do. “Thanks, Chris,” I murmured, giving him a small smile. He nodded, his eyes full of understanding as he watched me walk out of his room.

I hesitated outside Matt’s door, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open.

Matt was lying on his bed, his arm draped over his face, but the redness around his eyes made it clear he’d been crying. His head turned toward me, surprise flashing in his teary eyes before he sat up slightly. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but I didn’t give him the chance.

Without a word, I walked over and crawled onto the bed, positioning myself on top of him. His arms instinctively wrapped around me tightly, holding me as if he were afraid I’d vanish. The tension in his body melted slightly, but I could still feel the heaviness of his guilt in the way he held me.

“I get it,” I whispered, my face pressed against his chest. “I’m sorry for not hearing you out earlier.”

Matt’s grip on me tightened. “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you everything from the start. I just… I didn’t know how to. I’ll answer any questions you have. Anything. I swear.”

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were earnest, full of both regret and hope. I nodded, and we sat up together, his hands never leaving my waist.

“Okay,” I said softly, looking at him with a determined expression. “Then I have some questions.”

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar-deactivated202 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274 @sturnslutz

[asunsetgrace16]

✧ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 ⎥ 𝗙𝗠45

Pairing: Fraser Minten x fem!reader

Warnings: fluffyyyyy, one kiss (I think), one swear

Summary: Y/N stays over at Fraser's for the first time after their usual Hockey Night in Canada Saturday date

Notes: To clear up any confusion, this is a repost of an old post but I have been doing some blog maintenance and have changes how I answer fic requests.

Thank you so much for the request! I love writing for Minty and there is a lack of Minty content on here. I also made up the entire game except for the misconducts that were given in an actual Florida-Ottawa game last fall. Request.

masterlist⎥ navigation

Word Count: 978

As per weekly Saturday tradition, Y/N and Fraser watch whatever hockey game is on TV. Both avid hockey fans and players, they both grew up watching Hockey Night in Canada, rooting for their teams with unabashed pride; Fraser for Vancouver and Y/N for Winnipeg. Occasionally, their hockey-watching dates are over FaceTime when Fraser is out of town for games and he often falls asleep, his phone dying overnight. 

Tonight, however, isn’t one of those nights. The Blades played a rare Saturday matinee game, ending just before four. This gave the couple time to make dinner before the start of the game. His billet family is away visiting relatives for the weekend, so it’s just the two of them. They settle in for the game with plates of spaghetti and salad. Ottawa is playing Florida tonight.

“This should be interesting.” Y/N comments, “nothing good ever happens when the Tkachuk brothers are on the ice together.”

“Very true. How many fights do you think will happen?” Fraser asks, half-Joking, half-serious.

“Oh, easily three or four.”

The game starts off fairly uneventful. No goals from either team and only a penalty or two. But you can tell the teams are chippy with each other. It's the start of the second when things finally amp up. It starts with a slash to the shins of Jakob Chychrun from Nick Cousins, sparking Brady Tkachuk to get involved. The refs are able to break it up before anything exciting happens. There is a pair of goals in the last 10 minutes of the first, so the teams are tied heading into intermission. The second follow is much of the same pattern; a goal for each team, a few minor penalties, and one scuffle. They had barely taken their gloves off before the refs broke it up, boring.

“ Boo.” Fraser says to the TV, “Let them fight, it’s more exciting that way.” 

Y/N laughs and rolls her eyes. But he's not wrong, “You just like to see Matthew stir shit up.” 

“You've got me there.” 

It's in the dying minutes of the third one Fraser gets his wish. A cheap shot from Carter Verhaeghe sends Parker Kelly into the boards awkwardly. He doesn't get up as both teams end up in the corner. Claude Giroux tries to pull Parker away from the fight. The rest of the guys grab each other and start fighting, well most of them anyway. Brady and Matthew are both in the mix. Helmets are off, gloves and sticks are scattered on the ice and the refs are circling. Parker got some help getting to the bench and is getting checked by a trainer. The fight goes on, eventually guys are in headlocks, jerseys are half off, and others are piled on the ice, still swinging punches. The refs break up the fight, sending the guys towards penalty boxes before dishing out the penalties. 

“Every player on the ice gets a 10-minute misconduct, except for the goalies and Ottawa number 27.”

Both Fraser and Y/N are staring, absolutely dumbfounded. Almost never do 10 players get game misconducts. 

“Well, there's the entertainment for the night.” Y/N quips.

The last few minutes pass quietly, the benches are looking very bare, five guys gone from one side and four from the other. Fraser has nodded off by the time the game ends, and Y/N isn't far behind. She turns off the TV and folds the blanket that she used. She sighs tiredly, looking around the dim room. Fraser’s half-asleep on the couch, all sleep-warm and face cast with shadows from the kitchen lights. Y/N moves about the room, gathering her bag and phone. She smiles softly, love in her eyes as she looks as Fraser. She wakes him gently, prompting him to go to bed.

“Just stay.” Fraser mumbles sleepily, yawning. 

“I…I don’t know.” Y/N hesitates, wanting to say yes.

“Please.” He interrupts, giving Y/N a soft, pleading look.

Y/N stays quiet for a minute, reaching out to brush a piece of hair off of his forehead, “Ok. I’ll stay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Y/N flushes, turning shy all of a sudden. She looks away, avoiding his gaze. They haven’t slept over at each other’s places yet, and it makes Y/N’s cheeks warm.

“Why’d you get shy?” He asks as they walk to his room.

“What? No I didn’t”

“Yes, you did. Look, you’re blushing.” He grins at her, poking her cheek.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. And it’s cute.”

Y/N gives him an exasperated look, she will never admit it but Fraser is right. It’s their first night sleeping over together so it takes an extra few minutes to get everything sorted. She is a little jittery, nervous to share Fraser’s bed with him. Her brain goes into overdrive as she tries to avoid making things weird. Fraser gives her a shirt to sleep in and he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. They stand on opposite sides of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Sure, they have cuddled before, but usually that was on the couch or her cramped twin bed at school. Fraser climbs in, throwing back the covers and he holds his hand out for Y/N to grab. She takes it climbing into the other side. He pulled the covers over them, rearranging his pillow for optimal comfort. Y/N does the same, relaxing more as the minutes go by. Fraser reaches over and shuts off the lamp, sending the room into darkness. By the light of the moon, they face each other. Fraser pulls Y/N closer, giving her a sweet kiss on her forehead before tucking her into his chest. Before long, the couple has drifted off, wrapped up in each other’s arms like it's the most natural thing in the world.

[topgunruinedme]

I Got Dreams But I Can't Make Myself Believe Them

Word count: 7.5k

Parings: Rooster & Maverick, Rooster & Iceman, Iceman/Maverick

Summery:

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-' He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn't...please... It rang. Once Twice- “Hello?”

His face hurt. Pulsing with a vigour that he knew he should take his pain med and yet…he hadn’t. Because he deserved this pain. He deserved this. 

This aching, the dagger-like sensation deep in the muscle when he tried to move. Still, it was not even close to a fraction of what he made them feel. So, he deserved this. 

The pain. The punishment. They always did tell him he was a masochist. Fretting over his father being gone, whether Mav missed him, why  he  didn’t miss him. Worried about his mother's health, if they would lose the house, why wasn’t she smiling anymore. Would Mav stay or would he leave him without his favorite Bradshaw's; after all Mav wasn’t his babysitter. Was he going to be stuck alone in this world struggling to finish high school with the crushing debt of his mother's hospital bills and house lines that he discovered showed under her bed two days after the funeral. Was he going to die hungry or cold? And his newest one, would anyone care if he burnt in? 

At least he had an answer to the last one. No. It was so painfully clear now, he had pushed too far and they had given up on him. The phone calls and messages left unanswered, the lettered read tearfully and shoved in a box under  his bed  that stayed with him religiously through deployments. The Admirals who bumped into him occasionally in deployments which he  knew  was their way of checking on his health after all files can only offer so much. 

Yet…no one had come when he called. When he had laid on that hospital bed terrified out of his mind, cold, bloodied and half the mind that either he was Nick Bradshaw or he was seeing him. And no  one,  had come.

His NOK. His dad. He called. 

No one.

No one cared anymore.

He remembered the nurses holding him down as he screamed out in short panic bursts as what he now knew were  cold induced  hallucinations raged through him. He remembered managing to grab a nurse's arm and begged them to call his father.  Begged.  Over and over again, demanding she keep trying until they sedated him somewhere between the  forth  redial.

No one came.

His dad didn’t care anymore. 

He had gone too far and they had given up on him.

He pressed his face into the tattered plushy pushing down the whine of pain as it agitated the stitches on his chin tugging at the cuts. He curled around the soft toy in the limp bunk at his base housing trying to breathe through the pain. Wheezing as the position put a strain on his already sore ribs, bruised but thankfully not broken, but there was only so much they could do about the bruising caused by the harness. They marked up his chest, around his shoulders and down his back, making him look like a mummy who went through a fight and became a kickboxing victim. They weren’t pretty overall. He certainly wasn’t going to be winning any medals any time soon.

It was strange what  near death  situations did to a person. Twelve hours ago he was filled with such hurt, such hatred towards Maverick's actions, not him as a person but hurt about how he went behind his back and stopped him from succeeding…he just couldn’t see why they couldn’t have talked about it. Now. After spending all those hours alone trapped in a hospital wing, half aware of reality, strapped down to his cot like some dangerous criminal. All he wanted was to hold his father's hand. All he wanted was to go  home. 

But the question stood, did he even have a home to go back to now? 

He remembered the  crokard  post box from that time Mav had tried to teach him to drive and he accidentally mixed up his accelerator and brake. But despite the years, Ice never fixed it. Maybe he was also a sucker for memories. 

He remembered Ice’s fond smile as he helped apply the coloured paint to his hands after he insisted on putting their handprints on the mailbox after watching the new Disney movie UP. Ice had simply shaken his head, dug out some paints from one of Maverick's abandoned side projects and let himself be dragged out to the front lawn laughing all the way. 

He remembered the loose and wobbly handrail to the stairs in the hallway that always made Ice sigh and roll his eyes anytime he heard it creak, yet he never got it fixed even when Ron apologized for being too careless while roughhousing with Wolf and offered to fix it himself. 

He remembered the way Maverick would be waiting for him in the kitchen every morning before school. Chiding him to get dressed as he snagged a piece of bacon from the pan while Ice wasn’t looking only to complain that it was  hot,  when he  himself  was  bare chested  new and faded marks across his chest with low sweatpants on his hips, bed hair wild around his head. 

The way every Thursday without fail their house would be filled with his uncles, spread out around their living room in various stages of a food coma, gorging themselves on the sweets Mav would spend all morning making with a pleased smile. He always had been his happiest providing for other people, seeing they were happy. 

He remembered the board game night, the nights they would spend curled up on the couch together with some nonsense show that no one was really watching, and the nights they sometimes spent out watching the stars. 

He remembered them cheering at his little league games despite being tired from a long day at work or having just returned from a deployment, which he now knew they would have been dead on their feet just wishing for a bed. He remembered their concern muttering when he was sick and their fingers through his hair. He remembered Ice’s mother's lullaby that the man would hold him through the wee hours of the morning and hum under his breath when they thought he was asleep.

He wanted to go home, he wanted it all. But he had lost it all when he cut off contact. And he was half terrified that they were angry at him, every time he sat there and thought about calling, about turning up on their doorstep to ask for forgiveness he would just stare at the number of missed calls, he would think about the hundreds of voice messages. He’d feel the burning of the box of letters all unanswered under his bed as he laid down and hugged his goose plushier that they had given him all those years ago. No doubt abusing Ice's powers to discover his address when he heard that he was in hospital in his junior year of university. The seams were now ratty from how often he ran his fingers over them, the fur carefully taken care of but despite his efforts the old plushie was dying, and unlike everything else in his life it was leaving him too. He could no longer preserve the memories within it. 

He bit his lip only for the sharp pain that shot through his head to remind him why he shouldn’t do that. He winced, not from the way the fur rubbed up against the fresh stitches, although it wasn’t comfortable, but over the fact that Maverick was right. His heart jumped in his throat. He wasn’t ready. 

Because Maverick had almost just lost him like he had lost Goose.

He had been reckless, and   arrogant; he had been a kid thrown into a jet and told he was good, his ego was inflated and he  hadn’t been ready. 

And he had fallen out of the sky. He had burned in. And he was damn lucky he didn't take anyone else out in the process.

He had paid his price, and it had almost been his own head.

A few more seconds…  the doctor's words ran through his head like a gunshot echo, warning him of the tragedy that could have occurred.

What will you tell their parents when they don’t come back? When they come back in a casket. What excuse will be ready then Lieutenant…  His commanding officer  lecture  piggybacking from his nightmares,  what excuse will be acceptable then? 

There wasn’t one. This was his fault, his own failure. What would they have told them if he died? 

You have my condolences Mr Kazansky,  Mr  Mitchell. However, your son has died in a training accident - having not even made it out of Top Gun - by his own stupidity! 

Yeah, he could see that going over well.

He ran his thumb over the screen of his phone nervously, should he call? He had called- the hospital had called. But maybe they don’t answer unknown numbers, old people were like that… right? His fingers felt clammy as he took a shaky breath, whining quietly as he thumbed through his contacts to find the right number and listened to the phone ring quietly.

Once. 

Twice.

Three times.

Each ring felt like a bullet in the chamber, he could hear tone ringing out around him as tears welled in his eyes, a sob building in his chest as the phone clicked, the call unanswered.

Too close, switching to guns. 

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-'

He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just  couldn’t…please… 

It rang.

Once 

Twice-

“Hello?” A croaky voice answered, indubitably not Mav.

"Ice?" His voice shook, "Pops?"

“Shit ”  .  Something rustled loudly over the phone and he could almost see Ice scrambling to sit up on the bed. A  bitten out  swear carried lowly over the line and it almost made him smile as he heard something clatter to the ground with a thud, no doubt the older man knocking something off the bedside table in his haste to grab his glasses and slide them on his nose to look at the phone. “Bradley?”

He sounded so hesitant as if he was afraid he was hearing things. It pained him to wonder how often his Pops had woken in the middle of the night hearing his voice and wondering if it was real or a  sleep deprived  hallucination. How often it left his Pops laying in his bed curled up with his hands over his ears trying to ignore his imaginary self calling for him for help, and not being able to help the man come back to earth. How many times had his Pops suffered silently and alone and he hadn't even known about it. 

“Pops” he sobbed, chest aching from the force of his whine and the pang of his heart at the thought of how many times he had been the reason for his parents to cry, the cause of his parent's pain over the years. 

“Bradley baby. What's wrong? Come on baby bird, I need you to speak to me”. Ice’s familiar level tone sounded unusually anxious, “Come on daring, you can do it. Take some deep breaths for me”. 

He hadn't even realized that his  panic induced  sobs had pushed him into the dangers of hyperventilation. His gaps of breath between his  chest shaking  sobs became shorter and more panicked as he acknowledged the lack of oxygen. 

“Breath,”  Ice pleaded. “Baby please”. 

“He didn’t answer” he gasped out, whimpering “He wasn’t  there  ”

“Bradley, honey what-?”

He could hear Ice’s underlying confusion as he whined in pain hissing behind gritted teeth as he burrowed his face further into the soft teddy irritating his stitched cuts. “Mav” he whined, his voice muffled as he pressed it further into the soft fabric, ashamed of his clingy neediness for his parents despite being 25. The mortification of crying out to them over a little crash. He felt like a kid creeping into his parent's rooms during the night after a nightmare, sweat still clinging to his brow, stomach rebelling as he hovered by their bedside unsure whether to wake them or not. But despite the early hour they had always opened their arms to him, shifted and made room for him between them on the bed. Always. Maybe…after all this time, just maybe Ice could spare a little room to allow him a few moments to recuperate and shuffled away in shame. 

Realistically he knew that Ice couldn’t see him. He knew that Ice wouldn't care, that the man would simply look at him with pursed lips, his brows furrowed in concern and coo quietly as he gathered him in his arms, careful to guide his face over his shoulder to prevent him from aggravating his wounds further. Despite what many people thought Ice had been more of the mother hen type than Maverick. Mav had been the cool uncle, then he became the serious dad he needed to be but Ice, Ice had been the cool dad. Ice had been the one to take on his missing mother role, the man had melted into it without blinking. Always making sure that someone was there to kiss his brow and tuck him in at night. Who made him breakfast in the morning and took time out of their day to help him with homework when Mav got sick of trying to help him and stomped off frustrated. He was the person who would stand on the guidelines of his games with a cooler of drinks and bulled him into letting him apply sunscreen while he ate the sandwich he had been prepared for lunch while Mav got into an argument with the couch. Ice was the one who would smile at him empathetically holding him when he cried over a crush. Who gave him his  talk  and he was always there a hand away to allow him to crawl into his lap no matter how old he got to comfort him. 

Mav may have been his dad. But Ice had been his Mum, his Pops. He knew that Mav loved him in his own way, but he also knew that he was partly there for his guilty hand in his father's death. He also knew that Mav had promised Carole he would be there for him (Hospital walls are not as soundproof as you think Mav), that he would take his Godfather duties seriously. Whereas Ice,  he  never had to stay. He knew they were wingmen and they tackled problems together but Ice never made him feel like a problem. He always made sure he was included, he never pushed him. Ice never has to stay, and while the man harboured his own guilt over Nick, he never pushed it, never brought it up. They spent his memory day sitting on the patio in the backyard and  drank  Kool-Aid with him silently. Ice didn't have to step in but he did, he didn't have to stay but he chose to. 

He didn't think he could have a mum again after Carole but he did. And that was partly the reason he couldn't bring himself to hang up. Because despite his shame, the agony of his embarrassment and fury at Mav. Cutting Ice out had been the hardest decision of his life and now hearing the man's voice he couldn't find the strength to hang up. Not when he was so close, his smooth voice in his ear begging him to stay. 

“Baby” Ice cooed in concern, it was soft and familiar. It reminded him of the warm feeling of home, the same tone Ice would use as he sat on the edge of his bed letting him climb onto the man's lap clinging to him when his mother was in hospital, not caring that he was far too old to be doing so. He could almost see the soft frown and those gentle eyes staring down at him, and feel the carding of the man’s fingers through his curls. “Baby, are you looking for Mav? He’s out at the hangar tonight. The idiot forgot his phone. I promise he didn’t ignore it on purpose sweetheart-“

“The hospital called” he choked out “I know. I begged them too”.

“Hospital?” Ice sounded alarmed “Bradley-“

“I asked them to call and  he didn’t come ”.

“Bradley Bradshaw”. The soft tone shifted to a firm disciplining one, one he didn't often hear coming from Ice’s lips. It was rare to see him step up into the role of the displeased parent, but that didn't mean it hadn’t happened. Like when the man crossed his arms across his chest with pursed lips and a disapproving look when he caught him sneaking into the house  at  the early hours of the morning when he had been specifically grounded, or when he went drinking for the first time while underage or when the older man had caught him clumsy stubbing out a weed join on his windowsill eyes wide in alarm. This doesn't sound like Ice was disciplining him, no it sounded panicked as if Ice was trying to hold himself together and keep himself from panicking him further when his breathing had just started to slow to a reasonable speed. 

“Bradley baby, why were you in the hospital? Are you ok? God-  please  be ok” Ice sounded desperate. And for a moment it warmed his chest, the next it made his stomach clench uncomfortably. 

He had always taken Ice’s compassion for granted and he had used it against Mav more times than he could count to get what he wanted. He had been a spoiled brat and at the time he hadn't cared about what it would do to the two wingmen. And the worst part about it was that while Ice picked up on it he never made him stop even when it led to the two wingmen arguing or sleeping at different houses. But he always came back. It made him feel sick because  fuck  Ice really did care about him and he still cared about him. Even after he threw him to the curb, after he chewed him out, cutting away their bond and years of love with a rusty knife in hopes it would rot away and get infected. Even after he ignored every call, deleted every message and refused to read the letters and cards the man sent. Even after that horrid ceremony; after he so blankly disregarded Ice’s rank and achievements in front of  everyone . Ice had still stuck by his side. Because despite his  7 year long  temper tantrum, Ice had stuck by him faithfully. He had respected his wishes and avoided getting the same posting as him, doing his maternal duty to send him away if he was anywhere close to them even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending someone to check up on him occasionally to settle his worry. Even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending cards, or from sending him letters each deployment knowing he wouldn't read them just to remind him that someone would care if he burnt in. 

“Today was hop 31” he whispered out with a croak, the demons that accompanied the words settled on both of them, however, there was an unusual heaviness to his. As if more weight had been added on in an attempt to make his knees buckle and maybe there ha d.  Every time he closed his eyes it was no longer the spinning of the Pacific ocean around him as he was strapped into the jet, he no longer heard his dad's voices calling out in a panic, he didn't hear the sound of his father's neck snapping against the canopy or the rough tug of air as it detached. Now he heard the panicked voice of his wingman. He heard Hangman scream out of him  “Roosters heading out to sea! I repeat Roosters going out to sea! Permission to follow-” “Denied Lieutenant''.  He now saw the  stomach clenching  sight of mountains dropping around him as his jet dipped dangerously out of the training zone towards the sea where their adjective had been. It had been simple: fly through the terrain, don't get hit, and get back to base. Where had it gone wrong? When had Hangman’s taunts turned into fearful screams, when was the annoyed fighting turned into the sound of his jet screaming at him to pull up?

He let the line fall silent, taking a shaky breath trying to pull away from the shaking of the jet, the sharp tug of the G-force and the claustrophobic feeling of the canopy closing in on him as the piercing scream echoed in his head, his death sentence. 

“Low Altitude, pull up. Low Altitude, pull  up- ”. 

He could hardly hear anything but if that was the gun cocking then it was Hangman's fearful cry that was the bullet,  “Rooster-!” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and instead let Ice do what he did best and allowed the man to gather his evidence and piece it together himself. 

“I’m not Goose” he rasped out,  barely,  when the response took too long. Reminding the man of his hand in one of the worst mistakes of his life. But it was necessary as much as he hated it because he knew Ice, unlike Mav who blamed himself publicly not afraid to attempt to redeem himself for his hand in it, Ice suffered silently letting his mind run over the scenario looking for a way they could have saved Goose, looking for a scenario that didn't exist. Ice loves to torture himself, and like him, Ice  was  a masochist. “It was fine. I was on my way in and an engine blew. I couldn’t- I went into a flat spin and collided with the ocean” he continued and let out a humorous snort “I burnt in Pops”.

“Christ kid”,  Ice's voice sounded suspiciously wet.

“I’m ok” he mumbled, “I wanted you there.” He tugged the plushy tighter to his chest, closing his eyes as he listened to Ice shift the sheets and audibly stood up from the bed hearing the man mutter to himself quietly as he began to move around the house. There was the recognizable creak of his childhood stairs then a door shut and the phone clicked falling into a vain eerie silence. Had- Had he been wrong? He bit his lip shoving down a sob, his lips wobbled, his eyes squeezing shut. 

Had Pops- he hadn’t hung up had he? He wouldn’t leave him, right?

Pops loved him…he wouldn't leave him. He wouldn’t, but he wouldn't blame the man if he had. It’s not like he had done anything to instil confidence into the older gentleman. He had brushed him off, thrown his offers back into his face, disgraced the man's title in front of the brass and thrown more venom at the man in the last 7 years than he had shown love. 

He let out a wounded noise sob ripped from his lips, teeth chattering as his chest tightened. Ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth as he curled around the plush, squeezing it so tightly it made his shoulders ache and wrist click in protest. No longer making a conscious effort to keep the blood from smearing on the white fabric.

“Bradley?”   

His breath hitched eyes, snapping open, tilting his head back to look at the phone that had fallen from his grip to rest on the mattress to his left as he curled onto his side, the line was still connected.

Ice's worried voice wobbled through the line. “Baby bird can you hear me?” 

“Pops! You- you-“

“Deep breaths honey” Ice reminded him gently. 

“You didn’t leave ” .

“Never” Pops promised firmly. “I’m sorry darling I should have warned you, I forgot there was a lag when the phone connected to the car”.

He blinked and swallowed thickly, reaching up to rub the thick tears from his face sniffing snotty with a grimace as he used his sleeve to rub the evidence from his skin,. His voice clouded with tears as his still scattered brain tried to process the information “Car?”. His head was still pounding and the impromptu crying was not helping in the slightest but the nurse had told him he would be sluggish for the next few days until he healed, then again she had also told him to avoid phones and screens for the next 72 hours. Of anything it was their own fault for allowing him to talk his way out of having a supervisor to watch his every move. Telling him not to use a screen was like telling a pilot he couldn't fly when the new F-25 was sitting right in front of him. 

He was going to do it. He would do anything he had to at this point to hear his Pop’s voice, even if he had to fly to DC and burst into his office himself- that is if they are still posted there. But no, he remembered the creaking of the stairs, the sound was seared into his brain. They had to be down in Miramar, they had to be…right?

That was home. They wouldn’t change that. 

“Yes sweetheart, we’re going to go find that idiot of a father of yours” Ice chuckled fondly.

“Why-“ he stuttered hesitating as he worried the words around in his brain for a moment before finally dragging the dreaded question he's been worrying about since he stomped out of their lives 7 years ago from his lips, “Why isn’t he with you? Did I-''. Had they separated because of him? Why weren’t they living in the same house, they had lived together for as long as he could remember, they all had. 

“No Bradley. You didn’t do anything. He’s just at the hanger, said he needed to do some work on his baby” Ice soothed apparently knowing him too well, perhaps it was a leftover skill from having to learn how to predict his mood swings as a teenager but Ice had always had the knack of knowing what he needed in the moment. He had been so sure on more than one occasion that the man could secretly read minds, but maybe he just knew his thought patterns too well. 

He frowned in confusion, “He has a hanger? Like…his own?”

“I was not impressed” Ice huffed in assurance with a heavy  put on  sigh “If anything he certainly topped the retriever incident, I think he was trying to win some obscure challenge. Then again I wouldn't mind so much if he was actually home more and cared for it”.

“Retriever?”. His stomach clenched as he blinked away tears as he listened to Ice smile fondly as he recounted his wingman's antics. He bit his lip subconsciously. How much had he thrown away? 

Listening to the fact that their lives continued on without him hurt but deep down he knew he hadn't really expected the world to stop spinning. He hadn’t expected for them to stop living their lives just because he had left, but to hear confirmation that they moved on, just as he had…it hurt. 

How much had he missed?

“I came home from a meeting a couple of months ago and Slider was supposed to be watching him but apparently he got  distracted  ”. He let out a wet laugh as Ice drawled in an unimpressed tone. A woman then, they had always been Uncle Si's weakness. One he had seen the others exploit many times to win bets or escape babysitting duties. It was almost a game within the group, or at least it used to be. He could almost hear an Ice smile behind his grouchy tone “Anyway I got back and there’s Mav, dozing away on our couch with a baby golden retriever on his chest. She’s the cutest little thing” Ice cooed only to fall into a brief moment of awkward silence when neither men knew what to say before Ice broke it gently, “We named her Rooster”.

He felt like he was going to be sick. Even after all this time, after all he put them through they still wanted him just as much as he did. 

“Pops,” he cried wetly.

“I'm here baby bird” his Pops promised “Now. Tell me about what you’ve been up to in the last few years since we’ve seen you”.

“You're an Admiral, shouldn’t you already know that? I know you help keep Mav updated” The tone wasn’t accusingly just…tired.

“I do,” Ice said quietly, not bothering to do anything to hide his involvement, “But I want to hear it from you”.

So he told him. He started by explaining how he had driven to the edge of town and checked into a motel after he stormed out of the house, how despite having sent Mav away with his tail between his legs he couldn't stand staying in that house anymore knowing Ice would come home and convince him to stay. So he did what he did best, he fled. He told him about how he called up admissions to California University and reversed his refusal; one of the conditions of a bet he lost to Slider a few years ago that he would apply to the same university that his uncle had graduated from, at the time it hadn't meant anything to him a mere joke. He explained that the university had been surprisingly accommodating once he spun a tale about a Navy relocation that was changed last minute allowing him to attend the university, a lie that Ice lowly chastised him for over the line. How he packed up his limited belongings that night with only his broncho, a few hundred dollars in his account and a quickly  put together  duffle to his name and left that night to drive all the to California. Driving from dawn to dusk trying to sober up from his  7 hour  drive huddled up against the window of a coffee at 5am in  the morning  curled around a cup of coffee trying to stay awake long enough to get his keys from the rental company and crash into the first empty bed he saw. 

He laughed about how he met Jackson for the first time. How his roommate had been allegedly studying at his desk reading through the textbook for their economics and aerodynamic classes when the door of their dorm opened, but before he could greet him apparently he had chucked his bag, letting it fall to the ground and stumbled towards the only undressed bed in the room. Jackson had told him he looked like a zombie dragging himself around dead on his feet, bags under his eyes slurring as he muttered to himself, practically throwing himself halfway across the room at the chance of a wink of sleep, only to misjudge the distance and land half on the edge of the bed and roll off with a startled shout. Jackson had told him after laughing so hard he ended up tilting off his chair and joining him on the floor that he had just stared silently at the ceiling blinking slowly with a confused look as he registered  falling  off the bed.

He confessed how he spent that first night laying awake (of course that was after his frankly illegally long nap, if you could call it that) unable to sleep as he tapped his fingers against his phone that rested on his stomach, fully aware of the missed calls and messages from his uncles, his parents. But the burning need to respond just hadn't been enough to rival the flames of fury curling around his heart like barbed wire. He spent the whole of his first night conflicted, wondering if he should give up and change his mind and go home, that he should beg for Mav to tell him  why  he did this, why he wasn't good enough. Surely there was a reason, something he would fix to make Mav love him again. The memory of Mav recalling in on himself, jaw flexing as the words left his lips leaving a cold grip around his chest as Mav turned on his heels and walked out of the house. 

Go away and never come back  old  man. I don’t want murderers in this house! 

He told Ice about how he powered his phone off and got a burner phone for the first few months, unable to look at it with the burning anger that made him want to throw it at a wall hoping it would break. Knowing he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to reach out if he saw the calls waiting for him. Knowing that he  needed  to do this, that he couldn't give in yet, that he needed to fight for this. For him. 

He told him about how he got a job waiting tables at a nearby mum-and-pop dinner run by an elderly couple, who reminded him of frighteningly grandpa Viper. About how the older couple had stepped in and who took care of him when he was struggling. How they bullied him into staying after his shifts for dinner or pushed hot chocolate onto him and waved away his money when he tried to pay, and how inventive he had to get to hide his tips around for them to find, knowing they would pull his ear  like  Uncle Wood used to with an exacerbated fond look. 

He relaxed back into the mattress smiling as he recounted his subjects and the people he met. Even going as far as to admit that he found most people his age immature and recounted some of the drama and frat initiation he had witnessed. He had never really gotten along with them, instead he chose to hang out with Jackson most days. Unlike him Jackson wasn't heading for the Navy, the man was instead aiming to work as a consultant for the Pentagon. The man loved aerodynamics but the man had admitted that flying made him queasy, and he very much preferred to keep his feet on the ground. 

He whispered out the painful admission of returning home for the break not having the will to go anywhere else for the holidays only to book out a hotel room and hide out there afraid of running into any of them. He recounted the nights he had sent in the cold bundles up in his truck outside their house watching the lights go off, unable to take the step of actually knocking on the door. Trying to ignore Ice’s sharp inhale pained with the knowledge that he had been so close. 

He talks about how Jackson and he lost contact after graduation both being busy with their new jobs as the man moved out to Texas and as he  himself , moved to Annapolis after finding someone who allowed him to enlist and how he got accepted into the academy. He talked about how he was the oldest kid there and the prejudice he faced from the other recruits due to it. How he was dismissed by the teachers and scrutinized by instructors who urged him to find a new career that suited him better. About how he graduated second in his class only beaten by one person, Jake Seresin. 

He discussed his frustration and rivalry that bloomed and continued through their deployments only to pop back up, like the leach he was because Seresin was a damn cockroach, as his competitor when he was accepted into Top Gun. How it was only due to a surprising friend from the academy popping back up, Natasha Trace, who kept him sane (and likely from being discharged from punching the man's perfect teeth in) and later became his best friend (one who was very unhappily to find out that they were being separated after graduation, she was being stationed out at Hawaii, hours away from his station in Japan). He talked about how close the points were, about how their rivalry seemed to fizzle out in the moment his jet tipped to the side unresponsive and the man cried out for him. How in that moment, the trophy didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

“They always did put too much focus on that damn trophy” Ice muttered, “The point of Top Gun used to be about being the best, as a team. Now… we’ve lost too much with the encouraged competitiveness”. 

He hummed limply as the conversation fell into a sort of lull as he realized how long he had been talking, it was almost 1:23am, almost 2 hours since the call started. And Pops was still here, listening. Who had recognised his distress, and had woken up at an ungodly hour to go and drive out to wherever Mav had boarded himself up for the night simply because he needed him. 

“Hey Pops”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I'm wearing your hoodie”. Part of him knew he should be embarrassed at the admission, he ran the cuff of the old faded grey hoodie between his fingers finding comfort in it even though he could no longer smell Ice’s expensive Italian cologne clinging to it. But he couldn't bring himself to be. Sitting comfortably on the centre of his chest covering his sternum was a dark blue and red image, a familiar image, a dark blue circle surrounding a white F-15, marking his chest with his destiny. The words that had been engraved in his mind long before he had ever set foot on the ground before him;  United  States Navy: Fighter Weapons School.    

“Your Top Gun one”. It had given him a connection to them all, being so far away from them, wearing it was the only time he was able to scratch at the nauseating homesickness that rocked his whole being. It had given him a homestead, the name printed across his shoulder blades connecting him to his lineage and the bond connecting his family together. 

Kazansky. Graduate of Class 1986, Top Gun.  

“I know,” Ice said quietly, “I noticed it was missing not long after you left. You know…there's a photo of you in it up on Penny's bar, at the Hard Deck” Ice corrected before chuckling lightly, “You've grown into it well, I remember when you were a scrawny kid and it just dwarfed you but you refused to wear anything else”. 

“I used to take it when you were deployed,” he swallowed, “It was stupid but it made me think that you would come back for it”. 

“Brad's,” Ice sounded wretched, “It was never the hoodie I came back for, it was you”. 

“I know. I know that now. But…it reminds me that maybe one day…you'll come home again”. 

“Bradley-”

“How is everyone” he interrupted sniffing and  swallowed  down his regret. There was a pause, clearly Ice contemplating chasing up the chain of thought before the man sighed reluctantly submitting to the change of subject. 

“Well, you have two new nieces and nephews. Wolf and Wood adopted a little boy three years ago, and Sunny's wife had a surprise kid a few years ago while he was out on deployment, surprising them both” Ice commented dully. 

He frowned in confusion, “But I thought Anna was infertile?”

“So did we” Ice hummed but slowly allowed them to fall into the comfortable lull of the conversation as Ice updated him slowly with everything he missed, careful to add in details he thought were pertinent; like Slider retiring from being an Admiral and becoming a commercial pilot, apparently the man was much happier now. Or Wood and Sunny who had co-opened a bakery and coffee store that they had named ‘the smiley shorts’ which honestly didn't surprise him as much as it should have. Or about how Cougar was working in a hospital under his wife who had been promoted to the chief of surgery. And slowly he started to mend a little more. 

“Bradley baby, you still with me?” 

He blinked tiredly not realizing that he had closed his eyes at some point, he tried to shake sleep from his limbs as it attempted to claim him. He yawned, jaw cracking in the effort as he rolled onto his back tilting his head back towards the phone where it sat on the mattress next to his head. “Pops, right here” he mutters in confirmation, “On your wing”. 

“That's right baby bird” Ice let out a small chuckle “Right on my wing. Talking about wingmen. We’re about to find one”. 

“Mav?”

“Yeah, darling”. The engine spluttered in the background, and he heard the keys jingle as Ice muttered lowly  ‘It's too damn cold for this’ . He listened trying to picture where Ice was as he heard a door opened then the crunch of dirt under boots. He frowned, brows pulling tensely as he tried to picture a desert, or somewhere with a vast amount of land that would allow Mav his solitude but was dry enough to crunch this time of year. He jolted slightly in confusion at the sound of old metal banging against something with a clatter and the loud noise of something heavy rolling. 

He almost wept hearing a tired confused voice, “Ice? Honey what are you doing here? It’s almost 3 am”. Mav sounded the same, that lovering concern that he had been on the receiving end of all those years ago and he could see the way Mavs eyes would be pinched in the corner, lips tilted down as he studied them for any injuries, trying to figure out what had happened before they could form a warped lie. 

“I have someone who wants to talk to you”, this time he could see Ice's smile, the one that bloomed behind his closed eyelids, the small jump in his lips that bloomed into a gentle smile as the phone travelled hands.

“Uh-hello?” Mav asked, sleep still evident in his voice and he slivered at the flash of memories of seeing the man stumble into the kitchen wrapping his arms around Ice’s waist as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the man's check knowing he would swat him for it as he did every day with a grumble only to pair a cheeky grin to Ice’s unimpressed loom. How he would stay attached to Ice for the rest of breakfast swaying with him a step behind the blond seamlessly ducking out of the way without needing to be asked, passing along ingredients to distract Ice from the wondering fingers trying to snatch a piece of bacon front he pan before it was plated only to end up with a lecture and a wooden spoon to his hand. He remembered Mav’s pouting only for him to turn with a wink as he used to stick his tongue out to tease them. 

“Dad?” His voice trembled faced the fact he was speaking to his father for the first time in just under a decade. 

Mav hailed sharply, “Baby?” Mav sounded awake, startled by the concern that dragged into his voice. He sounded  happy , shocked but happy. 

“Dad” His heart slowed his chest aching but relieved as the sense of home finally settled over him. 

Home.  

“Bradley honey what’s wrong?” Mav asked worriedly. 

“He said the hospital called you but you didn’t turn up” Ice rumbled in the background quietly allowing them to have their own moment, no doubt the man had led Mav to sit down holding him close, tugging him into his side. 

He could go home. 

“Shit, I didn’t have my phone- I didn’t realize until after I got here-”

“Dad,” he interrupted the man's panicked rambling with tears in his eyes as he looked down at the goose in his arms that had offered him so much comfort in the last few years but dispite the memories it carried, it was nothing to rival Mav’s hugs, or Ice’s kisses. It wasn't like curling up with Mav on the couch or being tucked in by Ice. It wasn't home. 

“Yes, baby?” 

He took a deep breath trying to push back the emotional overload that once again threatened to overtake him, that clung to him weighing him down in the ocean dragging him further underwater like a parachute filling with water with no tactical knife to free himself with forced to watch the rope tangle around his body trapping him as his body jolted at the lack of air. His voice trembled, breaking as the tears became evident in his voice, “Can I come home?” 

“Of course, baby” Mav sounded choked up almost as if he was crying as well  “God Bradley,  of course, you can come home. You were always welcome home”.

And for the first time in  years  he took a deep breath and his  heart felt  weightless  and  he smiled and thought of home, only this time, it was closer than he thought.

[enemiestolovershoe]

Fighting the Truth

Chris Sturniolo x enemy!reader

Summary: Chris and Y/N have fought for years, but after another heated argument, their feelings change, leading to unexpected love and a complicated new beginning.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: fighting, cursing, drinking, making out, let me know if I missed something

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

You’d known the Sturniolo triplets quite literally since the day you were born. Your moms had met in the hospital, sharing the same room as they brought you and the boys into the world. From that moment on, your lives had been intertwined, your families becoming an unshakable unit.

Growing up, you, Matt, and Nick were inseparable. As soon as you could walk, you were a team: climbing trees, building pillow forts, and getting into all kinds of trouble together. But with Chris, it was different. It had always been different.

Your first argument with him happened when you were barely old enough to form complete sentences. He’d stolen the red crayon from your hand mid-drawing, insisting that he “needed it more,” and from then on, it was like a switch had flipped. If there was something to fight over, you and Chris would find it. Toys, art supplies, video games—nothing was off-limits.

As you grew older, the arguments evolved. What started as petty squabbles turned into full-blown shouting matches. Snarky remarks became cutting insults, and any room you two occupied was guaranteed to become a battleground. Now, at 21, it felt like the fighting had reached a breaking point.

You hated it.

You hated the way Chris could get under your skin with just one look. You hated how you couldn’t stop yourself from snapping back at him, no matter how hard you tried. Most of all, you hated how your constant arguing was starting to strain your friendship with Matt and Nick. The thought of losing them because of your inability to get along with their brother kept you up at night.

You wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but the stress of it all had you crying yourself to sleep more nights than not.

And now, here you were, sitting in an airport at 5 a.m., dreading the hours-long flight to Boston for your dad’s birthday grill party. It was supposed to be a happy occasion—a family celebration. Instead, you were bracing yourself for yetanother long weekend of biting your tongue and avoiding unnecessary fights.

The airport was unusually quiet for 5 a.m., the soft hum of vending machines and the occasional overhead announcement the only sounds breaking the stillness. You sat cross-legged in an uncomfortable plastic chair, scrolling through your phone while Matt and Nick argued over snacks a few seats down. Chris was leaning against a column, staring blankly out the window at the planes on the tarmac.

It wasn’t like him to be this quiet, but you chalked it up to the early hour. No one was particularly chipper at this time of day.

“Okay, so… do I go with the peanut butter crackers or the pretzels?” Nick turned to you, holding up both options. “Help me out here.”

You barely looked up. “The pretzels. Peanut butter crackers are just sad at 5 a.m.”

“Thank you!” Nick grinned, shoving the crackers into Matt’s hand. “You’re officially outvoted, Matt.”

Matt rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smirking. “You’re both tasteless. Peanut butter crackers are elite.”

“Elite in what, choking hazards?” you shot back, earning a laugh from Nick and a mock offended gasp from Matt.

Chris hadn’t said a word, which felt… odd. Normally, he’d have jumped in with some snarky comment by now, and the two of you would be trading barbs before the conversation even had a chance to breathe. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but his expression was unreadable, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Alright, we’re boarding in twenty minutes,” Matt announced, checking his watch. “Everyone got everything? Chargers? Neck pillows? Emotional stability?”

“I left that at home,” you said dryly, tucking your phone into your bag.

“Shocker,” Chris muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

There he was.

You shot him a glare, but before you could respond, Nick clapped his hands together. “Okay, truce! No fighting until we land in Boston. That’s the rule.”

“Since when?” you and Chris said in unison, both turning to Nick with identical looks of disbelief.

“Since now,” Nick said firmly. “Matt, back me up here.”

Matt shrugged. “I mean, it’d be nice if we could make it through one trip without you two trying to kill each other.”

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth, glaring at Chris. “I’m perfectly capable of keeping the peace.”

“Same,” Chris said, matching your tone.

The four of you made your way to the gate as the boarding announcement echoed through the terminal. Chris ended up directly behind you in line, and you could feel his presence like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

When you finally found your row on the plane, you froze.

“No. No, no, no,” Chris groaned, stopping just behind you.

“What?” you asked, turning to face him.

“My seat.” He pointed to the one beside yours, his face twisted in a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What’s the problem?” Matt asked from across the aisle, already settling into his seat.

Chris gestured dramatically between you and himself. “I’m stuck next to her for a six-hour flight. Six. Hours.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” you snapped, shoving your bag into the overhead compartment. “Sit down and stop complaining. It’s not like either of us has a choice.”

Chris muttered something under his breath but slid into the seat next to you, his movements stiff and exaggerated as if to emphasize just how put out he was.

Nick leaned over from his seat behind you, grinning. “You two gonna hold hands and sing kumbaya now, or should we prep for turbulence in more ways than one?”

“Shut up, Nick,” you and Chris said at the same time, glaring at him.

“See? You’re already bonding,” Nick said with a laugh, retreating back into his seat.

You sighed heavily, pulling out your AirPods Max and slipping them over your ears. Maybe, just maybe, you could get through this flight without losing your mind.

The flight was tense but manageable. A few arguments broke out between you and Chris, mostly about trivial things like him invading your space or you hogging the armrest.

“Can you stop elbowing me every two seconds?” you hissed, shooting him an annoyed look as he shifted in his seat.

“Maybe if you didn’t claim the entire armrest like it’s your personal property,” Chris shot back.

“It’s called sharing, ever heard of it?”

“Not with you.”

“Children,” Matt interrupted from across the aisle, leaning over. “The flight is almost over. Can we not do this right now?”

You both huffed but fell silent, turning your attention elsewhere.

When the plane finally landed, you exhaled in relief. The four of you grabbed your bags, picked up the rental car, and began the drive to your childhood homes. The plan was to stop at your house first since the party had already begun, and the Sturniolo parents were eager to see you.

In the car, the mood was mostly light. Matt and Nick were recounting funny stories from past flights, trying to keep the energy up. But you couldn’t shake the heaviness in your chest. The constant fighting with Chris was wearing you down more than you wanted to admit. You leaned your head against the window, your eyes unfocused as the scenery blurred past.

Nick, ever perceptive, noticed your quietness and nudged you gently. “Hey, you good? What’s up?”

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. The lump in your throat was already forming.

Unfortunately, Chris caught the interaction. “What now? Lost your voice?” he quipped, his tone laced with irritation.

That was the breaking point.

“Chris, just shut the fuck up once in your life. Please.” Your voice cracked as frustration bubbled over, and the car fell silent.

Matt cleared his throat awkwardly. “Okay, so… uh, let’s put on some music, yeah?” He fiddled with the radio, trying to diffuse the tension.

You stayed silent for the rest of the drive, staring out the window as tears pricked your eyes.

When you arrived at your parents’ house, the party was already in full swing. The smell of grilled food filled the air, and the sound of laughter drifted from the backyard. You plastered on a smile as you greeted your parents, giving your dad a quick hug and wishing him a happy birthday. But the tightness in your chest hadn’t gone away, and the moment you were inside, you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Locking the door behind you, you let the tears fall freely. The combination of exhaustion, frustration, and Chris’s constant jabs was too much to handle. You slid down to the floor, your knees pulled to your chest as you tried to muffle your sobs.

A soft knock at the door startled you. “It’s me, Y/N,” Nick’s voice came through, calm and gentle. “Let me in, please. I know something’s bothering you.”

You hesitated for a moment before sighing deeply and unlocking the door.

Nick opened it slowly, his face falling when he saw you curled up on the floor, tears streaming down your face. “Oh, dear, what’s wrong?” He crouched down and pulled you into a tight hug.

The dam broke.

“I don’t know why Chris hates me so fucking much,” you cried, your voice shaking. “I can’t do this fighting anymore, Nick. I’m so scared I’m going to lose you and Matt, too, if this shit keeps up.”

Nick pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Y/N, listen to me. You’re not going to lose us, okay? Matt and I—we’re not going anywhere. And as for Chris…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I know he can be a pain in the ass, but he doesn’t hate you. He really doesn’t.”

“Sure feels like it,” you muttered, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater.

Nick gave you a small smile. “You and Chris have been at each other’s throats since we were kids. But there’s more to it than just hating each other. I think you know that, too.”

You shook your head, not wanting to unpack whatever Nick was implying. “I just want it to stop, Nick. I can’t keep doing this.”

“I know.” He pulled you into another hug. “We’ll figure it out, okay? But for now, let’s get you cleaned up and back outside. Your parents missed you, and I’m pretty sure Matt’s already raided the dessert table.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Okay.”

Nick helped you to your feet and handed you a tissue from the counter. “Freshen up, and I’ll meet you out there.”

Once you’d composed yourself, you headed back to the backyard with Nick by your side. The party was in full swing, with neighbors and family chatting around the grill and kids running through the garden.

Chris’s eyes landed on you almost immediately. He noticed your red-rimmed eyes, the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, and the faint tension in your shoulders. For a brief moment, his expression softened, but he didn’t say anything.

The rest of the evening passed in a haze. You had a few glasses of wine to calm your nerves, letting the alcohol take the edge off your emotions. Meanwhile, the triplets stuck to White Claws, Nick and Matt laughing as they attempted to shotgun them.

Chris, however, seemed quieter than usual, his gaze flickering to you now and then as if trying to figure out what was really going on.

The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the backyard. You were sprawled out on a deck chair, sipping your who-knows-how-many-th glass of wine. The sunset was stunning, painting the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple, but your focus was starting to blur from the alcohol coursing through your system.

Grill parties like this always had a way of loosening you up, and tonight was no different. The mix of family, nostalgia, and endless wine was a comforting escape from the tension that seemed to follow you and Chris wherever you went.

Nearby, Nick and Matt were sitting at the outdoor table with your parents, sharing stories and laughing loudly. Their contagious giggles drifted through the warm evening air, adding to the lighthearted atmosphere. Chris was off to the side, perched on the armrest of a chair with a half-empty White Claw in hand. He wasn’t completely sober anymore, either; you could tell by the slight sway in his movements and the lazy smirk that seemed permanently etched on his face.

Despite the cheerful scene, everyone had noticed you weren’t quite yourself tonight. Your usual energy was dulled, your laughter softer, and your smiles fleeting. But no one pushed you to explain—they seemed to sense that tonight wasn’t the time.

You tipped back the last sip of your wine, the familiar warmth spreading through your chest. Deciding you needed a refill, you swung your legs off the deck chair and tried to stand. Big mistake.

The world tilted beneath you, and before you could steady yourself, you stumbled forward and fell unceremoniously onto the grass.

A burst of laughter erupted from you as you lay there, and it only grew louder when Chris, of all people, joined in.

“Did you see that?” you managed to wheeze between giggles, pointing at absolutely nothing. “Hahaha, I just—” You dissolved into another fit of laughter.

Chris was laughing, too, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “Yeah, you fell over like a wet bag,” he slurred, his words a little too drawn out.

Nick and Matt exchanged wide-eyed glances, clearly bracing for the inevitable argument that usually followed any interaction between you and Chris. But to their surprise—and relief—it didn’t happen.

Instead, you laughed even harder, clutching your stomach. “A wet bag! That’s so—hahaha—accurate!”

Chris chuckled, taking another sip of his drink. “Glad my pain is your entertainment.”

Your mom, who had been watching from the table, raised an eyebrow. “Sweetie, are you okay?” she called, her voice tinged with amusement.

“Mom!” you yelled back, still giggling uncontrollably. “Where’s the wine?”

“In the kitchen, honey, but don’t you think you’ve had enough?” she asked, her concern evident.

You waved her off, stumbling to your feet. “Nah, I want one more, then I’m heading to bed!” You walked over to her, planting a kiss on her cheek before making your way toward the house.

As you crossed the threshold into the kitchen, you tripped over the door’s metal threshold but managed to catch yourself at the last second. “Whoops!” you giggled to yourself, continuing your unsteady journey to the counter where the wine bottles were neatly lined up.

Back outside, Nick frowned as he watched you disappear into the house. “I’m gonna go check on her,” he said, starting to rise from his seat.

Chris stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. “No, let me.”

Nick and Matt both turned to him with raised eyebrows, their expressions a mix of confusion and suspicion.

“You?” Nick asked, his tone dripping with doubt.

“Yes, me.” Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s already pissed at me. If you go in there and she thinks you’re babysitting her, she’ll probably be even more upset.”

Nick narrowed his eyes. “Okay, but if you hurt her or upset her even more, I will literally break your face, Christopher.”

“Nicolas!” MaryLou’s voice cut through the tension, scandalized by her son’s words.

“What, Mom?” Nick said defensively, gesturing toward Chris. “They’ve been fighting for twenty years. Twenty. I’m not about to let him go in there and make things worse.”

“Oh, dear god,” your mom muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Same,” MaryLou agreed, shaking her head as if exhausted by the ongoing saga between you and Chris.

Chris rolled his eyes but didn’t respond to Nick’s threat. Instead, he set his White Claw down on the table and stood, his movements unsteady as he made his way toward the house.

You made your way to the counter where the wine bottles stood neatly arranged. Deciding to skip the usual half-glass rule, you poured your glass completely full, concentrating hard to avoid spilling. The red liquid swirled dangerously close to the rim as you steadied the bottle and placed it back on the counter.

“Perfect,” you muttered, lifting the glass to your lips for a sip. You barely had time to savor it when a voice startled you from behind.

“Hey, can we talk?” Chris’s voice broke the silence.

You jumped, spilling half the glass of wine down the front of your white top. The cold liquid seeped into the fabric, staining it a deep red as it clung to your skin.

“Are you fucking serious right now, Chris?” you snapped, your tone sharp and filled with frustration.

Chris held his hands up in surrender, his expression genuine. “Oh shit, I didn’t mean to scare you! Please don’t be mad. That wasn’t my intention.”

You groaned, setting the now-wine-slick glass on the counter before tugging your shirt over your head. “Why are you even here?” you demanded, moving to the sink to run the stained shirt under water.

Standing there in just your bra and skirt, you didn’t think twice about it. The Sturniolos had seen you in bikinis countless times over the years. This wasn’t any different, right? But Chris, on the other hand, suddenly looked... different. His eyes widened slightly before darting to the side, as if trying to respect your space.

“Uh, I—uh—wanted to talk?” he stammered, clearly nervous now.

“About what?” you asked, your words slurring slightly from the wine, but your tone carried the same sharp edge as before.

Chris shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “Can you please just talk to me normally? This is serious.”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Seriously?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Chris, I’ve been trying to have a normal conversation with you for the last ten years, but you always find some way to insult me or start a fight. Every. Single. Time.”

Your voice rose with each word as you grew angrier, slapping the damp shirt onto the counter. Chris opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

“I am so done with this shit,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly as the frustration bubbled over. “I don’t even know what your problem is with me, but I’m sick of it. I don’t want to lose Nick and Matt because you decided, for whatever reason, that you can’t stand me.”

Chris flinched at your words, his jaw tightening, but he stayed quiet.

“Grow a pair of balls and grow up already,” you snapped, your voice shaking now from a mix of anger and suppressed emotions. “I am done here.”

Your last words echoed in the kitchen, hanging heavy in the tense silence that followed. Your outburst was loud enough that you were certain everyone outside had heard it. Even the faint sound of Nick’s laughter had gone quiet.

Chris’s face was unreadable as he took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Fucking shut the fuck up already,” he muttered under his breath.

Before you could even process his words, Chris leaned in, closing the distance between you. His lips crashed against yours in a deep, heated kiss, silencing any retort you might have had.

You pulled back almost instantly, your wide eyes meeting Chris’s. “What the fuck are you doing, Chris?”

Chris’s chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, his gaze intense and unwavering. “The one thing I’ve been too scared to do—and too scared to admit—for the last couple of years.”

Before you could even formulate a response, Chris leaned in again, his lips capturing yours with renewed urgency. This time, you didn’t pull away. You kissed him back, your anger and confusion melting into the background as the warmth of the moment overtook you.

The sound of laughter drifted in from outside, faint through the kitchen walls. It grounded you for a second, reminding you that your family and friends were just outside. But you shoved the thought aside, too lost in the way Chris’s hands held your face like you were something fragile and precious.

Your tongues clashed in a heated rhythm, each of you unwilling to back down, a continuation of your endless battles—but this time, it was something else entirely. Chris’s hand slid down to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours firmly as he stepped back.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice low and breathless.

You didn’t even question it. Nodding slightly, you let him lead you upstairs to your old bedroom. Chris pushed the door open with his free hand before pulling you inside and shutting it behind you.

The second the door clicked shut, Chris was on you again, his hands on your waist as he backed you against the wall. The cool surface of the wall sent a shiver down your spine, but it was nothing compared to the fire in Chris’s kiss.

It felt like hours had passed as you made out, the intensity of it all-consuming you both.

As his fingers brushed the edge of your bra, Chris broke the kiss, his lips hovering inches from yours. His voice was unsteady when he spoke, his breath mingling with yours.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Chris asked, his tone laced with frustration and longing.

You blinked up at him, your thoughts still hazy from the kiss. “I don’t—Chris, what are we even doing? This doesn’t make sense—”

“Doesn’t make sense?” Chris interrupted, his forehead resting against yours. “The only thing that hasn’t made sense is me pretending like I don’t want you. I’ve spent years acting like an idiot, fighting with you just to get your attention. And yeah, I was scared—scared you’d never feel the same.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed his words. “So all this time... you’ve been picking fights with me because you—because you liked me?”

“Liked you?” Chris laughed softly, the sound almost self-deprecating. “No, Y/N. I didn’t just like you. I’ve been in love with you for years. I just didn’t know how to handle it.”

You stared at him, speechless, your mind racing to catch up with what he’d just admitted.

“Say something,” Chris murmured, his vulnerability showing through the cracks in his voice.

“I—” Your voice faltered as you searched for the right words. “I don’t know what to say, Chris. I never thought—I mean, I just assumed you hated me.”

Chris’s lips curled into a small, almost sad smile. “Hate you? God, no. I hated that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I hated that every time you smiled or laughed, it made me want you even more.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your chest tightening as the weight of his confession settled over you. “Chris, I—”

Whatever you were about to say was interrupted by the sound of the door flying open.

You and Chris jumped apart like teenagers caught by a parent, both of you turning to see Matt and Nick standing in the doorway, their eyes wide with shock.

“Okay,” Matt said slowly, breaking the silence. “I did not see that one coming.”

Nick, however, didn’t look as surprised. He crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips. “I did,” he admitted.

“What?” Chris asked, his cheeks flushing.

Nick shrugged. “I mean, after twenty years of you two bickering like an old married couple, it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. Honestly, I’m just glad you didn’t kill each other after that shouting match in the kitchen.”

“Wait, what are you two doing up here, anyway?” you asked, your voice still slightly slurred from the wine.

Nick raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Damn, girl, are you still drunk?”

“Yeah, I’m still drunk,” you admitted, your tone sharp but flustered. “Now answer my question, please.”

Nick leaned casually against the doorframe, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. “Matt and I want to play Mario Kartdownstairs in the living room. Your old Wii is still hooked up,” he explained, his tone light and teasing.

You blinked, your brain struggling to process his words through the haze of wine and adrenaline. “The Wii? That thing still works?”

“Apparently,” Matt chimed in, stepping into view. “We were going through some of the old stuff in the cabinets, and Nick found it. Figured it’d be fun to see if we’ve still got it.”

Nick’s grin widened. “I’m gonna crush all of you, just saying.”

You rolled your eyes, still pressed against the wall as you tried to gather yourself. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Give us five minutes—I need a shirt.” Your voice came out flustered and a little slurred, the weight of the situation catching up to you.

“Good idea,” Nick said with a chuckle, his gaze bouncing between you and Chris. “Wouldn’t want to scare anyone with all that... passion you’ve got going on here.”

Your face burned, and you were about to snap back when Matt clapped his hands together. “Alright, alright, let’s give them a minute. But don’t take too long, or we’re starting without you.”

The two of them turned and disappeared back down the hall, their footsteps fading as they headed toward the stairs.

The moment they were out of earshot, you let out a long breath, your back sliding against the wall until you were sitting on the floor. “Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

Chris crouched down in front of you, his expression soft but uncertain. “Hey,” he said quietly, reaching out to touch your arm. “Are you okay?”

You peeked at him through your fingers, your emotions a jumble of embarrassment, frustration, and something else you couldn’t quite name. “I don’t know, Chris,” you admitted, your voice muffled. “This is just... a lot.”

Chris nodded, sitting back on his heels. “Yeah. It is. But... I meant everything I said earlier. I know I was an ass—hell, I’ve been an ass for years—but I wasn’t lying about how I feel.”

You dropped your hands, looking up at him with tired eyes. “And you think this”—you gestured between the two of you—“is going to magically fix everything? Chris, we’ve been at each other’s throats since we were kids. I don’t even know how to wrap my head around this.”

“I don’t either,” Chris admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “But I know I want to try. I don’t want to keep fighting with you, Y/N. I’m tired of pretending I don’t care when I do.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Finally, you sighed, shaking your head. “Chris... I don’t know.”

Chris reached out, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’ll take ‘I don’t know’ over ‘I hate you’ any day,” he said with a small, hopeful smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and a little shaky. “Okay,” you said finally. “Let’s just... see where this goes. No promises.”

Chris nodded, his smile growing. “Fair enough.”

Standing up, he extended a hand to help you to your feet. You hesitated, then took it, letting him pull you up. “Now, let’s get you a shirt before Matt and Nick start a full-blown tournament without us.”

You snorted. “Fine. But I’m still drunk, so if I lose, I’m blaming the wine.”

Chris smirked. “Deal.”

Together, the two of you rummaged through your old dresser until you found a shirt. Pulling it on quickly, you tried to ignore the way Chris’s eyes lingered on you for just a moment too long.

“Ready?” he asked, his tone casual but his expression warm.

“Yeah,” you said, brushing past him and heading toward the door. “Let’s go show those idiots who’s boss.”

As you both made your way downstairs, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of nervousness and excitement. Things weren’t perfect, but for the first time in years, it felt like you and Chris were on the same page.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Taglist: @courta13 @sophand4n4

[jacksonsturniolo]

the follow up to this.

warnings — you might die from how fluffy they are just saying.

a/n — I need a Jasper, anyways hello

The door barely clicked open before Nick was pulled into arms that were already waiting.

Jasper didn’t say hello. He just wrapped around him completely — arms tight, body warm, heart beating fast against Nick’s cheek. He clung like it had been weeks, not hours. Like he’d been counting every minute.

Nick let out a tired little breath, dropping his bag to the floor as Jasper’s hands settled between his shoulder blades, firm and comforting.

“I missed you,” Jasper mumbled into his hair. “I had so many things to say and no one to say them to and I think I started talking to the walls by accident. You left me unsupervised.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nick muttered, though his voice had no bite.

Jasper smiled against his skin. “But you’re here now, so I can tell you everything. Like—okay, number one, I think our neighbor is hiding a ferret. Two, I had a thought about how clouds are basically just sky-soup and I need you to unpack that with me. Also—”

Nick let out a quiet groan, though he didn’t pull away. “You’re already starting.”

“You said I could talk as much as I wanted when you got home,” Jasper reminded, squeezing him once. “That was a verbal agreement.”

“I know,” Nick said softly.

He stood there a moment longer, letting the warmth of Jasper’s body sink into him, grounding him. He’d had a long day. Too much fluorescent lighting. Too many people who didn’t whisper. Too many books left in the wrong place.

But this — Jasper holding him like he was something precious, something worth waiting for — this he could handle.

Nick pressed his face into the crook of Jasper’s neck and mumbled, “I’ll let you talk to me as much as you want. Just… give me a minute.”

Jasper nodded. “You can have as many minutes as you need.”

Nick didn’t answer. He just stayed wrapped in Jasper’s arms, breathing slower, steadier. And Jasper held him like that was the only thing that mattered.

Like Nick was the thing he’d been waiting for all day.

—

They ended up on the couch, exactly where Jasper wanted them.

Nick had resisted at first — mumbling something about needing to shower, maybe check his phone — but the second he was lying back against Jasper’s chest, legs tangled loosely together, his resistance melted like snow on skin.

Jasper kept talking, soft and steady, like the rise and fall of waves. His voice hummed against Nick’s cheek as he rambled about nothing — a weird dream, something he read online, a memory from when he was ten and thought the moon followed him home.

Nick didn’t say much.

Just the occasional “mm,” or a little nod, until even those faded away.

Jasper looked down after a while and realized Nick’s eyes had slipped shut. His breath had evened out. One arm was draped over Jasper’s stomach, fingers curled lazily against the hem of his shirt.

“Nick?” Jasper whispered.

No response.

A quiet smile tugged at his lips as he reached up carefully, fingers brushing against the edge of Nick’s glasses.

“Sleepy boy,” he murmured, more to himself than anything.

He eased the glasses off, folded them gently, and set them on the coffee table. Then he let his hand drift to Nick’s back, rubbing small, slow circles there — more out of instinct than purpose. Something to give. Something to do.

Nick made a tiny sound in his sleep, a soft sigh, and burrowed closer into Jasper’s chest.

Jasper leaned his head back against the cushions, eyes on the ceiling now. The lights were low, the room was still, and Nick was warm and weightless in his arms.

He didn’t need to say anything else.

This was enough.

This was everything.

taglist— @grace-sturnz @kier-with-a-k @sturnsblogs @urloveanaa @bernardsbendystraws @princesspi @urfavvbilliemunch @emely9274 @nessabarrettswhore @oopsiedaisydeer @thenickgirl @nickssidewitch @queenbreana @chriss-slut @rriverscuomo @conspiracy-ash @lezleeferguson-120 @ev1ldeadboy @milosturns @etherealsturns @nicks-bubbles @tezzzzzzzz @zenithsturniolo @dolliraez @httpssturns