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ch0llies · 22 days ago

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REVIVAL | CHRIS STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend’s Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo—your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there’s no escaping Chris—or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 8.9k

CHAPTER ONE:

You had been eyeing him all night. The longer the party went on, the stronger the ache between your legs became.

You could blame it on the alcohol that was coursing through your body, or the fact that you hadn’t fucked in nearly a month since you dumped your piece of shit ex-boyfriend.

But you knew the real reason. It had been a year since you’d seen him, and it was undeniable that Christopher Owen Sturniolo had grown into a man.

He was no longer the lanky little boy you shared your first kiss with in seventh grade or the awkward acne-ridden teenager who took your virginity sophomore year, and he most certainly wasn’t the wavy-haired senior who was irrevocably heartbroken when you got into a relationship and ghosted him.

No, this Chris was different.

His features had grown since you last saw him. He had sharp cheekbones, a strong and prominent jawline, and light stubble that made you crazy.

The freckles you used to tease him about but truly loved more than anything in the world were still there, scattered across his nose, but now they added to his charm rather than taking away from it.

His thick brown hair, which he used to grow out and flaunt endlessly, was now cut shorter and only added to the maturity he seemed to be radiating. It framed his face perfectly. The brown strands were darker now and looked almost unreal next to his light blue eyes.

He’d filled out too. The smaller frame you remembered was gone, replaced by wide shoulders and slightly toned arms.

He looked good. Too good.

He stood across the room, laughing at something you assumed his friend had said.

You tried not to stare, you really did, but your eyes betrayed you. Every movement he made, every time he laughed, or ran his fingers through his hair, you felt your stomach tighten.

And it wasn’t just lust– it was the past of everything unresolved coming back from the deep dark corners of your mind where you had hidden them.

Chris hadn’t acknowledged you yet— not really. Sure, you’d exchanged nonchalant hellos when you first arrived, but the conversation ended there.

So technically he knew you were there. He was just refusing to recognize you and every feeling and emotion you would bring with you.

So, you were just another face in a crowd, and he was the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Maybe this was your karma.

Part of you was mourning the Chris you once knew. That Chris would have been glued to your side the second you walked in, his eyes lighting up like you were the only person in the room. This Chris didn’t even flinch when he saw you. His face was so incredibly straight that it made you feel like a goddamn stranger.

You were only here because of Ava. She’d practically dragged you out of the apartment you shared that her dad bought for you two with promises that “It’ll be fun, I swear,” and “You have to be there—Matt’s expecting you.” Matt, of course, being her boyfriend, and Chris’s triplet brother. It was almost laughable. You had no desire to see Chris, no desire to stir up all the feelings you’d spent the past year pushing down. Yet, here you were.

He was standing near the kitchen now, leaning casually against the counter with a beer in his hand, talking to a girl you didn’t recognize. She was laughing at something he said, touching his arm lightly, and you hated how it made your chest tighten. A wave of something—anger, jealousy, regret—surged through you, and you tried to ignore it, trying to focus on anything else.

Ava leaned in closer, her hand lightly touching your elbow. “You okay?” she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” you lied, plastering on a smile that probably looked as thin as it felt. You glanced over at her, noting the way her cheeks still flushed whenever she talked about Matt even after they’ve been dating for years.

Your gaze flickered back to Chris—like it had a will of its own—and you caught his profile just as he threw his head back in laughter. The sight of his throat working, the slight scruff along his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners… It was too much. You swore you could feel your stomach flip in response.

Ava followed your line of sight, sighing softly when she realized what had your attention. “You can still talk to him, you know,” she whispered, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “He’s still—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut in, your voice sharper than you intended. You were grateful for the pounding bass that swallowed the tension in your tone. “We said hi, and that’s all that’s needed.”

She gave you a look—equal parts sympathy and frustration—but didn’t push. You both knew there was more to this story, a history you hadn’t even begun to unpack.

You let out a breath, forcing your gaze anywhere but him. “Listen,” you said, nudging Ava gently, “go find Matt before he starts complaining you’re ignoring him.”

Ava hesitated for a second, like she wanted to say something else, but then she nodded. “I’ll be back ,” she promised, and with a smile, she slipped away into the crowd.

With her gone, you were left in the crowd of half-drunken strangers, music pulsing around you. You tried to dance a little, tried to lose yourself in the haze of alcohol and conversation, but it was nearly impossible.

He still hadn’t looked your way again—at least not that you’d noticed. But it felt like you could sense him, the same way you used to be able to tell he was approaching before you ever heard his footsteps.

You hated how your body seemed attuned to him even now, how the ache between your legs grew every time you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. He was close enough that you could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke, see the way his fingers curled and uncurled around his beer bottle.

The girl who had been talking to him drifted off, pulling someone else onto the dance floor. Chris stayed where he was, sipping his drink and scanning the crowd, a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t read from this distance.

Ava reappeared in your peripheral vision, weaving her way through the crowd with practiced ease. You watched as she sidled up to Chris, her lips close to his ear as she whispered something you couldn’t make out. A flash of surprise flickered across his features, followed by something you could only describe as annoyance. Then, as if he could feel your stare all the way from across the room, his gaze snapped to yours.

Your stomach dropped.

He didn’t break eye contact—not even when Ava squeezed his shoulder in parting and drifted away into the crowd. Instead, he kept those intense blue eyes fixed on you as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips, took a slow sip, and set it down on the counter behind him.

You could practically feel the tension crackling in the air by the time he started moving toward you. Your heart thudded in your chest with each step he took, every cell in your body screaming for you to look away, to find someplace else to be. But your feet remained rooted to the spot, as though glued there by all the unresolved tension between you.

Finally, he stopped in front of you. Close enough that you caught the faint hint of cologne and the warmth radiating from him. Close enough that all the old memories you’d tried to bury threatened to resurface in an instant.

“Hey.” His tone was clipped, casual on the surface but laced with something sharper—like he was testing you, waiting to see if you’d crack first.

You swallowed hard. “Hey.”

An uncomfortable beat of silence passed. You couldn’t read the look in his eyes—there was anger there, maybe some hurt, and definitely that lingering spark of attraction that neither of you had ever truly extinguished.

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Didn’t think I’d see you here, of all places.”

“Yeah, well,” you forced a shrug, fighting to keep your voice steady, “Ava’s my best friend. Matt’s her boyfriend. I got dragged along.”

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt. “Still letting other people call the shots for you, huh?”

The jab was subtle, but you felt the sting immediately. You square your shoulders, ignoring the faint tremor in your knees. “Acting as if I didn’t walk you like a dog all throughout high school”

He nodded slowly, as though taking in your words. “This isn’t high school anymore, clearly.” He said, looking you up and down disgustingly.

The tension between you felt almost suffocating, thick with memories of late-night phone calls, stolen kisses, and the bittersweet aftermath of what happened senior year. The way you ended things—ghosting him right when he thought your relationship might finally become something more.

“You don’t have to act like this,” you said quietly, your voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it level.

He arched an eyebrow. “Act like what?”

You hesitated. “Like I’m some kind of inconvenience.”

He scoffed. “If that’s how you’re feeling, I wonder why.” He glanced away, jaw tightening.

Your heart clenched, and you pressed your lips together, trying not to let your emotions spill out for everyone to see. “We don’t have to do this,” you repeated softly.

He shrugged, and the movement was painfully casual. “You’re right. We don’t have to do anything.” He flicked his gaze past you, scanning the crowd like you might bore him any second. “So why are we?”

You swallowed, a soft ache in your chest. Because despite all the time and distance, you both knew there was still something here—something electric, something that made it impossible for you to pass each other by like strangers.

“Chris—”

“Look,” he cut you off, his voice lowering enough that you had to lean in to hear him over the music. “I’m not gonna pretend I’m happy to see you. And I’m not gonna pretend everything’s fine. Because it’s not.”

Your pulse hammered in your ears at his bluntness. “Okay,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “But we’re here,” he finally said, a slight tremor lacing his words. “And I can’t just—” He paused, jaw working as though wrestling with something unspoken. “I can’t ignore you,” he finished in a harsh exhale.

You felt your chest tighten. He was right; he’d tried ignoring you all night, and you’d tried to ignore him, and still you’d both ended up here, facing each other, every unspoken thing hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as his eyes flickered to yours. “So what now?”

You swallowed, heart pounding so hard you wondered if he could hear it over the pulsing music. His question—“What now?”—hung in the air, thick with a tension that set your nerves on fire.

You wanted to say something—anything—but words felt woefully inadequate. Instead, you met his gaze, letting him see the swirl of emotions that had taken up permanent residence in your chest: guilt, anger, desire. Especially desire.

For a beat, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was so charged you could practically feel it crackle. Your body felt hypersensitive to every shift in the air, every faint brush of his scent. All you could think about was how easy it would be to close the distance, to press your body against his and say the things you’d been holding back.

But instead, you let the moment slip by.

Chris exhaled sharply and dragged a hand through his hair, clearly wrestling with a torrent of his own. “You know,” he said at last, his voice low, “this isn’t exactly how I pictured seeing you again.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Yeah, me neither.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, but instead he just shook his head and turned away, jaw clenched. “I’m gonna get another drink,” he muttered, barely meeting your eyes before he disappeared into the crowd.

A breath you didn’t realize you were holding hissed from your lungs. You stood there, your entire body humming with the tension that still vibrated in the wake of his departure. It was as if every nerve ending had been lit on fire—burning with all the words left unspoken.

Hours later, the party was winding down, though the music still thumped in the background. You’d spent most of the time dancing with other friends, forcibly ignoring the steady undercurrent of longing that tugged you toward Chris like some gravitational pull. If he noticed you looking, he never showed it, except for a few fleeting moments where your eyes met across the room, sparks flying before you both turned away again.

Eventually, Ava found you. She looked disheveled, eyes glassy and a lazy grin on her face. Matt clung to her side, equally worse for wear—his hair mussed, his speech slurred. They were hanging off each other, giggling like teenagers.

“Hey,” Ava said, her words blending together, “I—uh—we need to go home.” She hiccuped, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Like, now.”

You glanced at the two of them, realizing just how hammered they were. Rolling your eyes affectionately, you hooked an arm around Ava’s waist to keep her steady. “Okay, okay. Let’s get you guys out of here.”

Getting Matt to focus was a chore, but between you and Ava’s coaxing, he finally managed to shuffle toward the exit. You kept an arm around your best friend, her head lolled onto your shoulder as she slurred something about how much she loved you.

Matt grinned drunkenly. “Y/N… you’re… you’re the best,” he mumbled, stumbling.

You snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get you home in one piece.”

Ava’s apartment—yours and hers, really—was close enough to walk, but considering how unsteady they both were, you worried it might be a disaster. Halfway to the door, you felt a presence behind you, a telltale warmth that made your skin prickle.

“Mind explaining where you’re taking my brother?”

Chris.

You turned, finding him standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, eyes flicking between you and Matt, who was practically leaning his entire weight on your shoulder. Chris’s face was a complicated mask—some concern, a lot of annoyance, and just a hint of that ever-present tension.

Your chin lifted. “Home. With his girlfriend?” you said simply. “They’re both wrecked, so I’m taking them back to our place.”

A shadow of doubt passed over his expression. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

You arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

He nodded toward Matt. “I can’t leave my brother with you—” he gestured to Ava clinging to your arm, “—and that drunk fool. No offense, Ava.”

You bristled, even as a very small part of you was relieved that he cared enough to intervene. “Ava’s not that drunk. She just needs some water and a good night’s sleep, and Matt clearly needs the same.”

Chris’s gaze hardened. “Look, we can argue all night if you want, but at the end of the day, I’m not letting you carry his drunk ass home alone.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Matt swayed dangerously, cutting you off. Chris moved closer in an instant, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and steadying him. Matt mumbled something incoherent, then blinked as if just recognizing Chris was there.

“Hey, kid,” Matt slurred, lips curling into a lazy grin. “Missed you… or something.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but you didn’t miss the fleeting look of concern. “You see?” he said flatly. “He needs someone who can actually hold him upright.”

You blew out a breath, too exhausted and too buzzed to keep up the argument. Fine. Let him play the hero. “Alright,” you relented. “Let’s just get them home.”

With that, the four of you spilled out into the cool night air, Matt and Ava clutching onto each other and you, while Chris hovered on the other side. The walk was short but felt endless with your two drunken companions swaying and stumbling. Chris moved in to help whenever Matt nearly toppled over.

Every time his arm brushed yours, every time your shoulders bumped, the tension between you flared to life again—like an ember bursting into flame. It was maddening how your body seemed to respond to him, no matter how much you tried to tamp it down.

Finally, you reached your apartment building. You fumbled with the keys, grateful when the door clicked open. Inside, you guided Ava to her bedroom, where she promptly collapsed onto the bed. Matt, half-lidded and swaying on his feet, followed suit, flopping down next to her without a second thought.

You stood there, watching them, heart still pounding with adrenaline—or maybe something else. You could feel Chris behind you, close enough that warmth radiated off his body. The quiet of the apartment only amplified your awareness of him, every breath and shift in his stance sending your nerves sparking.

You turned, finding yourself nearly chest to chest with him, the small hallway leaving little room to maneuver. His eyes pinned you in place, a swirl of emotions dancing across those blue irises—conflict, frustration, and under it all, that magnetic pull you knew too well.

“So,” you murmured, voice low, “I guess you’re not leaving yet, are you?”

Chris swallowed, and for a moment, you saw the mask slip. “No,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”

“So,” you murmured, voice low, “I guess you’re not leaving yet, are you?”

Chris swallowed, and for a moment, you saw the mask slip. “No,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”

The tension hovering in the narrow space was almost suffocating, so thick it felt like you could reach out and touch it. But before either of you could say another word, a sudden commotion broke the moment.

A door creaked behind you. Ava, looking pale and disoriented, stumbled out of the bedroom. She blinked blearily in the dim light. You recognized that look immediately: she was about to be sick.

“Ava,” you said in alarm, stepping forward. “Oh no—”

But it was too late. Her face contorted, and she heaved forward. Chris, seeing what was about to happen, darted sideways to avoid the inevitable spray—only to crash directly into you.

“Shit!” you yelped as he slammed your shoulder. You lost your balance, stumbling back until the sharp corner of the wall made harsh contact with your head. Pain exploded at your temple, and you winced, hissing through your teeth.

Meanwhile, poor Chris was still caught in the line of fire, a portion of Ava’s vomit hitting his arm and splattering onto his shirt. He recoiled, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

Ava wiped her mouth, tears in her eyes, and mumbled something close to an apology. “I—I’m sorry… ‘m so sorry—”

You pressed a hand to your head, anger flaring as throbbing pain pulsed behind your skull. “What the hell, Chris?” you snapped, forcing yourself to straighten. “You didn’t have to knock me over!”

He turned on you, face drawn tight with frustration and disgust from the mess on his sleeve. “You were in the way,” he ground out. “I’m not exactly going to stand there and get covered in puke—though apparently, that happened anyway.”

Your brows shot up, temper sparking. “Oh, so that makes it okay to push me? You’re a real gentleman.”

Chris’s jaw flexed. “Don’t start with me. I’m not the one who can’t hold down a drink.”

“Hey!” Ava croaked from behind him, her voice wuavering. She slumped against the wall, looking miserable. “I didn’t mean—”

“Ava,” Matt’s voice interrupted from the doorway. He appeared with bleary eyes, hair sticking up in every direction. He took in the scene—Ava hunched over, you rubbing your head, Chris spattered in vomit—and promptly turned on his brother. “Chris, why the hell are you yelling at her?”

Chris took a breath, trying to calm himself, but the frustration was evident in every line of his posture. “I’m not yelling at her,” he said through gritted teeth, yanking at the soiled fabric of his sleeve. “But maybe try not to puke on people next time!”

Matt’s face darkened, protective anger flaring up. “Dude, she’s drunk and sick. Back off.”

A tense beat of silence followed, the four of you standing in that cramped hallway, hearts pounding, heads throbbing—some from booze, others from bruises, and Chris from equal parts disgust and fury.

You rubbed the spot on your head again, wincing at the dull ache that pulsed beneath your fingers. Ava slid down the wall to sit, eyes closed, still mumbling apologies. Matt hovered beside her, steadying her as best he could.

You pressed a hand gingerly to your head, wincing at the dull throb that had settled behind your temple. Meanwhile, Ava slumped on the floor, still half-groggy and covered in the remnants of her unfortunate mishap. Matt hovered next to her, one hand on her shoulder to keep her steady.

“Let’s get you two cleaned up,” you sighed, ignoring the furious pulse of pain at your temple.

Ava groaned but let you help her to her feet. Chris stayed by the wall, still looking half-annoyed, half-disgusted, but when Matt stumbled, he automatically reached out to steady him. Despite the tension in the air, the four of you worked together to guide your drunken friends toward the bathroom.

Once inside, you managed to get Ava to rinse her mouth while Matt hovered behind her, swaying dangerously. Chris stood awkwardly in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, that exasperated expression never leaving his face.

“Brush her teeth,” he said gruffly, nodding to the unopened toothbrush sitting on the counter.

“I know how to take care of my best friend, thanks,” you shot back, though your voice lacked its usual bite. Your head hurt too much to spar properly.

He rolled his eyes, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I’ll handle Matt.”

You and Chris maneuvered around each other in the cramped space, exchanging occasional glares whenever you nearly bumped hips. Eventually, you got Ava’s teeth brushed—despite her half-hearted protests—and Chris convinced Matt to rinse his face with cold water, muttering warnings all the while about “not throwing up on me, too.”

By the time Ava and Matt were more or less presentable, both of them looked ready to pass out on the spot. You guided Ava back to her bedroom while Chris helped Matt stumble in behind her. They collapsed onto the bed, Matt’s arm draped protectively over Ava’s waist, and within seconds, both were out like lights.

You stood there for a moment, catching your breath, still nursing the throbbing pain in your skull. Chris lingered behind you, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You alright?” he asked finally, voice lower now that Matt and Ava were asleep.

Your head still pounded, but there was no ignoring the fact that Chris’s shirt was splattered with sink water and vomit stains. “I’ll live,” you muttered, pressing your fingers gingerly to your temple.

He huffed, his tone edging into that familiar snark. “You sure? Looked like you smacked your head pretty hard.”

“I wouldn’t have smacked it if you hadn’t used me as a human shield,” you shot back, though there was more weariness than heat in your voice.

Chris dragged a hand across his jaw, clearly wrestling with another sarcastic comeback. But instead of firing off a retort, he let out a frustrated groan. “This shirt is disgusting,” he grumbled, glancing down at the dark splotches. With a brusque motion, he yanked it over his head.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him bare-chested—this close, the hallway lighting throwing every muscle into relief. You tried to be discreet, but your gaze couldn’t help but linger on the defined planes of his chest, the way his shoulders had broadened since high school. You forced yourself to snap out of it, shifting your eyes quickly back to his face, hoping he hadn’t noticed the heat creeping up your cheeks.

He shot you a quick look that might have been amusement or annoyance, you couldn’t tell. “What?” he asked, almost daring you to say something.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the traitorous flutter in your stomach. “Nothing. Let’s just… get you cleaned up.”

Without another word, you led the way to the kitchen, pressing a hand against your throbbing head as you walked. Chris followed with the soiled shirt balled in one hand.

“Sit,” he ordered once you reached the small table, his voice unusually gentle.

Too tired to bicker, you sank into a chair. Chris rummaged in the freezer and emerged with a bag of frozen peas, wrapping them in a kitchen towel. He offered it without meeting your gaze.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, pressing the makeshift ice pack to your temple. The cold relief was almost instantaneous, dulling the worst of the ache.

Chris turned toward the sink to rinse out the vomit-stained shirt, muscles in his back flexing as he scrubbed the fabric. You found yourself staring again, and you silently cursed the unwelcome rush of heat that flooded you from head to toe.

Trying to distract yourself, you forced your gaze elsewhere. “Let me… let me grab some dish soap,” you said, pushing yourself up. A bolt of pain in your head nearly made you stumble.

He cut you a sideways glance. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered. But the sudden movement left your head throbbing again, so you settled for just handing him the soap from the counter.

He muttered his thanks, squeezing a little onto the shirt and scrubbing at the stain. The quiet felt thick, loaded with tension that had nothing to do with the earlier chaos.

You tried to focus on the peas pressed to your temple, but your eyes kept wandering. Finally, you gave a short laugh, more at yourself than at him. “You know,” you said, “for a guy who’s half-naked in my kitchen, you’re pretty grouchy.”

He snorted softly, still working on the shirt. “Guess you bring out the best in me.”

A spark of irritation lanced through you, though it was tempered by the undeniable awareness of just how good he looked—tanned skin, toned arms, the faint spattering of freckles you remembered from years before. “You’re not exactly a delight either,” you shot back, pressing the ice pack firmly against your head.

He finished rinsing and wringing out his shirt, then turned off the faucet. Water dripped across his arms, sliding down the lines of his muscles. You forced yourself to keep your eyes level with his, ignoring the tilt in your stomach.

After a moment, Chris set the damp shirt aside and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. He eyed you for a second, then jerked his chin at the peas you clutched. “How’s the head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints,” you smirked and his eyes widened at your innuendo.

You laughed at his reaction but actually answered the question this time. “It’s a little bit better, though.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, obviously uncertain where to go from here. “Look,” he said, voice quieter now, “about earlier. I wasn’t trying to push you. I just—”

“Didn’t want to get puked on,” you finished for him. “Yeah, I got that memo.”

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “I’m sorry if I knocked you over.”

You held his gaze, a wry smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “You’re forgiven. Now, are we done acting like idiots, or do we want to keep this up all night?”

A muscle flickered in his jaw, and for a second you thought he’d snap back with another sarcastic remark. But he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah,” he said softly. “I’m good.”

An awkward beat passed, the both of you taking stock of what remained. Matt and Ava were unconscious in the next room, you had a knot forming on your head, and Chris was half-naked in your kitchen, still dripping water.

“Well,” you said, pushing your chair back, “I guess we should try to sleep. Unless you want to stay up and make sure no one else hurls on you.”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “I’ll take my chances on the couch.”

He grabbed a spare towel off the counter and scrubbed at the stray droplets on his arms. You couldn’t help a quick glance at the way the movement flexed his shoulders, and you hoped your expression didn’t betray how flustered you felt.

“Night, then,” you managed, your voice a little tight.

Chris nodded, stepping around you to head for the living room. “Night.”

You stood there for a moment, the makeshift ice pack pressed to your head, watching him go. As he disappeared around the corner—shirt still in hand—you exhaled slowly, muscles taut from all the pent-up tension of the night.

The morning light drifted through the blinds, prickling against your eyelids as you stirred awake. The dull ache in your temple reminded you exactly why you’d gone to bed last night with a bag of frozen peas pressed to your head. You blinked, slowly registering the muffled sounds coming from the living room.

You pushed the blankets aside and slipped out of bed, wincing at the minor throb that still pulsed behind your temple. Padding into the hallway, you paused at the sight of Chris sprawled on your couch, arms folded over his chest. He looked about as comfortable as one could be when sleeping on a lumpy couch in someone else’s apartment.

He stirred at the sound of your footsteps. His eyes cracked open—still heavy with sleep but alert enough to narrow in on you as you stepped closer.

“Morning,” he grumbled.

Your first instinct was to snap at him—some half-baked comment about overstaying his welcome. But before you could open your mouth, he cut you off, lifting a hand as if to ward off your tirade.

“Before you bitch me out,” he said, “I’m waiting for Matt to wake up so I can take him home.”

A quick wave of annoyance flared in your chest, but you only sighed. He had a point—Matt was definitely in no state to hop on an Uber last night, and Chris wasn’t the type to leave his brother behind. Instead of biting back, you nodded reluctantly.

“Fine,” you muttered. “At least you didn’t run off in the middle of the night.”

He shot you a look, somewhere between exasperated and amused, but said nothing. A fragile ceasefire, at best.

Just then, you heard a low groan from the hallway. Ava appeared, bleary-eyed and leaning heavily against the wall as if the sheer act of walking was a Herculean effort. Her hair was a mess, and she looked about as hungover as a person could be.

“Ow, my head,” she mumbled. “Did anyone catch the license plate of the truck that ran me the fuck over?”

You grimaced sympathetically. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions.”

Ava rubbed her temples, squinting as she glanced around the living room. Her eyes fell on Chris, who was watching her with a mild, unreadable expression. She blinked once, twice, then turned to you, face twisted in confusion.

“Um… why is Chris here? Did you guys… fuck?”

Your jaw dropped. Chris actually closed his eyes like he was silently wishing himself elsewhere. After a beat of stunned silence, he cleared his throat. “Where is Matt?”

Ava shot him a mischievous smile despite her pallor. “Oh, you know,” she drawled, her tone teasing, “he’s probably hiding in my room because you two were up all night going at it.”

You and Chris both spluttered in protest. “Ava!” you snapped, cheeks heating. “We did not—”

She raised an eyebrow, wiggling it suggestively, but then cringed as her headache reeled her back in. “Ow. Okay, sorry. Too loud.”

“And too wrong,” Chris added flatly. “The only ‘going at it’ last night was you puking all over me.”

Ava’s eyes went wide, suddenly looking mortified. “Wait, what?”

You let out a half-amused snort, remembering the chaos. “You really don’t remember? You staggered into the hallway and threw up on Chris, then he tried to dodge and slammed me against the wall.”

Chris nodded, eyes flicking pointedly to your temple. “Which gave her that nice bump on her head.”

Ava cringed again, glancing at you with genuine guilt. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I… I blacked out.” She turned to Chris, noticing the faint dried stain still on his forearm. “Oh my God,” she repeated, horror-struck. “Did I really—?”

He shrugged, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Hey, a shower and about twenty gallons of soap later, I’m mostly fine.”

Ava buried her face in her hands. “This is humiliating.” But then, despite her headache, she cracked a small laugh. “I guess that explains why you’re in the living room, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, as the absurdity of the whole situation sank in. Chris let out a resigned chuckle, shaking his head.

“Believe me, I’d have been long gone if I didn’t have to cart Matt’s drunk ass out of here in a bit,” Chris said.

“I can’t believe I slept through all that,” Ava muttered. “Did I at least apologize?”

“Yes,” you said dryly, “though I’m not sure how coherent it was.”

“Enough to rub vomit in my hair again,” Chris grumbled good-naturedly.

Ava groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Ugh. I’m never drinking like that again.”

Chris smirked. “I’m holding you to that.”

A wry grin tugged at your own lips. After all the tension and drama last night, there was a strange relief in being able to stand here and laugh about it—like all of you were finally exhaling.

“How about I make some coffee?” you offered, tossing a glance at Ava’s pale face. “I think we could all use a little caffeine.”

“Oh, God, yes,” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead.

Chris nodded in agreement. “Sure. Then I can drag Matt home to sleep this off somewhere that’s not your couch.”

The faintest hint of warmth stirred in your chest at the idea of him staying just a little bit longer—even if it was just for coffee. But you pushed that down, focusing on the task at hand.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, leading the way to the kitchen. Behind you, Chris and Ava followed, still chuckling under their breath at the mess they’d all endured last night.

As you flicked on the coffee maker, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen once Matt woke up, once Chris left, once this bizarre morning after turned into actual daylight. But for now, at least, you had peace—and, surprisingly enough, even a laugh or two to share.

You settle around the small kitchen table with Chris and Ava, nursing your cup of coffee. The early sunlight streaming through the window does little to mask the awkwardness lingering from the night before. Ava, sporting a messy bun and still looking a bit drained, leans an elbow on the table and eyes Chris over the rim of her mug.

“So,” she drawls, voice scratchy with sleep but brimming with sass, “get comfortable, Chris. I’m gonna go wake Matt up, and it’s gonna be a while.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “You and Y/N can, I don’t know, get cozy and touch tips while Matt takes me to pound town again.”

You nearly choke on your coffee. Chris’s face goes through about three different shades of horror before settling on exasperated. “First off,” he mutters, setting down his mug a little too hard, “I really don’t need to know the specifics of my brother’s sex life.”

Ava just laughs, utterly unapologetic. “Suit yourself,” she shrugs, sliding off the chair. “But don’t blame me if you two get bored. Find something to do, or each other to do—whatever.”

“Ava, seriously,” you groan, pressing your palms to your eyes. “At least use protection, okay?”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Yes, Mom,” she shoots back sarcastically. “You’re so thoughtful.” Then she winks at Chris for good measure. “Think of me fondly while I’m gone.”

With that, she downed the rest of her coffee, set her mug in the sink, and strutted upstairs to Matt’s room, shutting the door with a pointed click behind her.

An awkward hush settles over the kitchen. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, fiddling with the handle of your mug. Chris avoids your gaze at first, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck.

“So,” you say finally, deadpan, “that was subtle of her.”

He huffs a half-laugh, glancing up at the ceiling like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Yeah, subtle as a car crash.”

You both fall silent. Then, from above, a soft thud—followed by the unmistakable sounds of Ava and Matt… reacquainting themselves with each other.

“Oh, God,” you mutter under your breath, cheeks heating. You rub your temples, trying to will the noise away, but it only grows louder.

Chris grimaces, then tries to play it off with a roll of his eyes. “Guess they didn’t waste any time.”

You make a face, sipping your coffee in hopes the caffeine will distract you. “They’re in for round two, apparently.”

A moment passes, filled with an increasingly steady rhythm of moans that filter down the stairs. You and Chris exchange a glance—equal parts discomfort and wry amusement at the sheer absurdity of it.

He breaks the tension by arching an eyebrow. “Reminds me of some of our high school experiences.” There’s a dryness to his tone—like he’s testing how far he can push you.

You sputter, nearly spilling your coffee. “Wow. That’s a throwback.”

A half-smile ghosts across his lips. “Well, she’s not moaning as loud as you did back then.”

Heat flares in your cheeks—part anger, part embarrassment, and, annoyingly, part amusement. “Excuse you?”

He shrugs, crossing his arms, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Just saying, I’ve got a good memory.”

Your eyes narrow as you set your mug aside. “No one asked you to remember. And I’m pretty sure I was never that loud.”

Chris smirks, leaning back in his chair. “You can keep telling yourself that.”

“Ugh.” You glare at him, ignoring the slight flutter in your stomach that you really wish wasn’t there. “And here I thought we’d have a civil morning.”

“I’m plenty civil.” He lifts his coffee cup, giving a mock toast. “You’re the one who let your best friend invite me to loiter in your living room.”

“As if you had no choice in the matter?” you counter, eyebrows shooting up. “You could’ve left at any time—”

“Except for the part where my brother was drunk off his ass and still is, apparently.” He nods toward the ceiling, where Matt and Ava’s very enthusiastic “recovery” session continues.

You roll your eyes, even as a small twinge of guilt twists in your gut. “Fine. You win that one.”

He sets his cup down, a flicker of genuine concern crossing his features. “How’s your head feeling?”

“Better,” you admit grudgingly, resisting the urge to rub the lingering bump. “Still a little sore. You’re lucky I don’t sue you for damages.”

He lets out a dry laugh. “Yeah, good luck explaining that to a judge: ‘Your honor, he dodged puke, and I paid the price.’”

The corners of your mouth quirk up despite yourself. “I’ll have to come up with something a little more dramatic.”

His gaze lingers on you, a hint of that familiar tension creeping into the air between you. For a second, neither of you speak. The echo of moans from upstairs fills the silence, but you try to tune it out, focusing on Chris’s expression. It’s a mix of exasperation and something you can’t quite pin down.

Eventually, he clears his throat, looking away. “Anyway. As soon as they’re done, I’m taking Matt home.”

“Fair enough,” you say, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from his lingering stare. “I’m just glad he’s not making an even bigger mess down here.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

You share a moment of uneasy quiet, sipping at your drinks and trying to pretend the floor isn’t practically vibrating with Ava and Matt’s activities. Each moan or thump from upstairs seems to underscore the unresolved tension between you and Chris—like the universe is mocking you both.

You collapse onto the couch, remote in hand, while Chris drops heavily onto the opposite end. Neither of you seems particularly eager to be in the kitchen, where the sound of Ava and Matt’s increasingly enthusiastic activities upstairs is even more obvious. Even here, though, you can still catch the muffled rhythms and gasps emanating through the ceiling.

“Want to put something on?” you offer, brandishing the remote as a distraction.

Chris shrugs. “Sure. Maybe it’ll drown them out.”

You flip through streaming services, settling on some mindless show you’ve both seen before—something you can half-watch, half-ignore. Anything to keep the awkward silence at bay.

Except the background noise doesn’t stop. Ava’s voice floats downstairs in a series of moans, clearly not worried about volume control. You feel your face heat, trying hard not to picture what’s happening up there, but it’s impossible to completely shut it out.

Chris catches the faint color in your cheeks and smirks. “You okay?”

You shoot him a glare. “Fine.”

He snorts, eyes flicking toward the ceiling with a knowing tilt of his head. “I guess some people really enjoy their mornings.”

“Can we not analyze it, please?” you mutter, turning up the volume on the TV.

For a few minutes, the two of you watch the show in a tense silence, interrupted only by the occasionally awkward clearing of throats. On the screen, the characters are bantering, their dialogue a hollow cover for the more intimate soundscape filtering down from upstairs.

Eventually, Chris shifts, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as though suppressing a grin. “Kinda like old times, huh?”

You glance at him warily. “Old times… meaning what exactly?” even though you knew exactly what he was reffering to.

He lifts a shoulder. “High school. All that sneaking around we did.” He nods at the ceiling again with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Not that we ever woke the whole house up—but you sure knew how to make noise back then.”

A spike of heat floods your cheeks. “Oh, shut up. I told you I wasn’t that loud.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I distinctly remember having to clamp a hand over your mouth one time, so your parents wouldn’t figure out I was in your bedroom.”

Your crotch thrums at the memory, even as you roll your eyes. “You’re making that up.”

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nope. That was, like… sophomore year?”

“Junior,” you correct quietly, the mental images flashing unbidden behind your eyes—late-night kisses, stolen touches, the muffled giggles when the floor creaked.

Chris spreads his hands, as though he’s proved his point. “See, you do remember.”

You hate the surge of warmth pooling in your stomach, especially with the unmistakable moans from upstairs fueling the tension. Your gaze flicks to him, noticing the way he’s tugging at the collar of his still-bare torso as if he’s feeling the heat, too.

Desperate to reclaim some composure, you turn back to the TV and raise the volume a couple more notches. The show’s bright laughter and goofy dialogue bounce off the living room walls. It helps—just a little—until there’s a particularly loud thud from above, followed by Ava’s not-so-subtle cry of Matt’s name.

You cringe, flicking Chris a sideways glance. His eyebrows are raised, and the corner of his mouth twitches with restrained amusement. “They’re really going for it, huh?”

“Stop it,” you hiss, trying to ignore the thudding of your own heart.

He chuckles, low and mocking. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re blushing. Maybe it’s bringing back memories for you, too?”

You grit your teeth. “Yes, because the best soundtrack for nostalgia is my best friend hooking up with your brother.”

His gaze slides over you, lingering on the curve of your hips, the lines of your legs tucked up on the couch. “Pretty sure I’m remembering a different soundtrack…”

A fresh wave of tension courses through you, courtesy of those teasing words and the faint recollection of your younger selves entwined in the dark. You can’t help the jittery sensation in your stomach—part annoyance, part undeniable attraction.

“That was forever ago,” you say, voice a little tight.

“Was it, though?” he counters, his voice dropping just enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You scowl, holding his gaze even though your pulse hammers. “Yes, Chris. It was.”

From upstairs, Ava’s delighted shriek rattles through the ceiling. You stifle a groan, covering your face with one hand. “Oh my God, I am never letting her live this down.”

Chris laughs, and it’s surprisingly genuine. “She’ll do the same to you if the roles were reversed.”

“Probably,” you admit.

You try to refocus on the TV show, but all you can hear is Matt and Ava’s muffled moans, and all you can feel is Chris’s eyes tracking you from the other side of the couch. The air feels charged, like a static storm on the verge of sparking, and you can’t decide if you hate it or crave it.

Finally, you shoot him a sharp look, hoping to douse the tension. “Got something to say?”

He smirks. “No, not really. Just reminded that you and I used to have this effect on each other… and it was never quiet.”

Your cheeks burn, and you set your jaw, refusing to let him rile you up any further. “Keep it up, and I’ll crank the TV so loud the neighbors call the cops.”

“And here I was, thinking we could just talk about the old days,” he drawls, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his bare skin shifting with the motion. “But hey, if the thought of me dicking you down is too much for you to control yourself right now, then I get it.

You open your mouth to retort—except your heart is pounding and your mind can’t help flipping through flashes of those stolen nights in high school. The way his hands felt on you, the desperate hushes whenever there was a risk of being caught, the rush of young desire you never quite forgot.

Upstairs, Ava lets out another moan that makes you cringe and press the remote’s volume button a few more times. “God, they better wrap this up soon.”

Chris arches an eyebrow, smirk widening. “Jealous?”

Your eyes snap to his. “Of them?”

He lifts a shoulder, carefully casual. ‘You tell me.”

A beat passes, and you can’t help flicking a glance at his bare torso—at the taut muscles that were far less defined back in high school, the confident air that certainly wasn’t there as a lanky teenager. You snap your eyes back to the TV, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

He chuckles, and it’s a low, lazy sound that does nothing to steady your heart rate. You pretend you’re enthralled by the sitcom characters on the screen, hoping the next few minutes pass quickly—or that Ava and Matt finally decide they’ve had enough.

But as you stare at the screen, you find your mind wandering, remembering the feel of his lips on yours, that electric rush you once craved. And judging by the heavy silence from Chris’s side of the couch, he’s remembering, too.

You and Chris remain on opposite ends of the couch, the TV blaring in a desperate attempt to drown out Ava and Matt’s enthusiastic finale. Finally, the unmistakable moans and muffled thuds from upstairs taper off. A few minutes later, you hear shuffling footsteps on the stairs.

Ava appears in the living room doorway, hair even more disheveled than before, cheeks flushed. She looks from you to Chris, who’s still shirtless, arms crossed as he lounges in an almost-too-casual pose. Something in her gaze flickers—mischief, curiosity—and you realize she’s not missing a single detail.

“All right,” she says, stretching her arms over her head like she’s been in a yoga class instead of a bedroom romp. “We’re done. For now.” Then she eyes you and Chris. “So, did you two fuck while we were busy, or…?”

Your face heats instantly. “No!” you blurt out, a little too fast. “Of course not.”

Chris just huffs a low laugh, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. “No,” he echoes, nonchalantly. But he doesn’t deny the tension that’s been crackling between you both all morning.

Ava narrows her eyes, scanning the room. “Mmm-hmm, sure,” she says with a knowing drawl. She lets her gaze settle on Chris for a moment, then glances back to you. Though she doesn’t say anything outright, it’s like she’s clocked something beneath the waistband of his sweats—and is doing her best not to cackle.

Before you can overthink her silent observation, Matt stumbles down the stairs behind her, hair sticking up in every possible direction. He looks like he barely has the energy to walk straight.

Chris pushes up from the couch—maybe a little too abruptly, as if trying to hide any…obvious issues. “C’mon, man,” he mutters, grabbing Matt by the arm with more force than necessary. “Time to get you home.”

Matt, still half-asleep, doesn’t protest. He just mumbles something incoherent, kisses Ava goodbye, and lets Chris steer him toward the door. Ava steps aside, watching them go, biting back a grin.

“Uh, thanks for the hospitality, I guess,” Chris calls over his shoulder, still wearing that faint smirk. He glances at you once, eyes lingering a beat longer than normal before he hauls Matt outside.

The door clicks shut. Silence falls—blessedly free of moaning and snark. You exhale, slumping back against the couch cushion. All the tension of the morning seems to settle in your shoulders, and you rub the knot at the back of your neck.

Then Ava whips around, hands on her hips, eyes dancing with amusement. “Holy shit, girl,” she hisses, scurrying over to flop down beside you. “Did you see the giant hard-on Chris had?”

You choke on air, cheeks flaming. “Ava!”

She throws her head back, laughing despite her obvious hangover. “I’m serious! Dude was packing some serious heat under those sweatpants. And you’re telling me you two didn’t get busy?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “We did not—no! Absolutely not,” you insist, shaking your head. “And can we not talk about…that?”

Ava props an elbow on the back of the couch, eyeing you like she sees right through your protest. “So you’re telling me he was just sitting here, sporting a massive boner, and nothing happened?” She snorts. “He’s still into you, obviously.”

You swallow hard, memories of the heated banter and near-constant tension flashing through your mind. “It’s not like that,” you try again, but the argument sounds weak even to your own ears. “He’s just waiting for Matt—well, was waiting—to get home safe.”

“Right,” she says, drawing the word out. Then she pats your leg in mock sympathy, still clearly amused. “You know you’re free to live your life, right? Even if it includes hooking up with your old…whatever the fuck he was.”

You set your jaw, refusing to meet her gleeful gaze. “He’s annoying. We bicker. That’s it.”

Ava shrugs, standing up to stretch again. “Annoying plus bickering can sometimes equal good, angry sex. Just saying.”

You toss a couch pillow at her, sending her into another wave of laughter. “Oh my God, you’re impossible.”

She catches the pillow and smirks. “And you’re in denial, babe.” Then she lifts her hands in surrender. “But hey, my job here is done. I’m all freshened up, physically satisfied, and apparently, I missed quite a show down here, too.”

Rolling your eyes dramatically, you bury your face in your hands. “I cannot deal with this conversation before lunch.”

Ava laughs again, patting your shoulder and leaning in conspiratorially. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you think about Chris’s, um, situation in peace.”

With that, she saunters off to the kitchen, presumably for more coffee—or to nurse her hangover with some Advil. You remain on the couch, heart still beating a tad too fast, unable to stop yourself from recalling the way Chris smirked when Ava asked if you’d hooked up.

Because maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as opposed to the idea as you claimed to be. And if Ava’s not wrong about the whole “obvious interest” thing, then the next time you see him, it might be a whole new kind of mess.

tags: @mattsobvimyfav

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twopoppies · 3 months ago

Note

(excuse me for ranting but I'm in an angry phase)

People love to forget that Harry /is/ private with his real private life and Liam was part of that.

The fact is harry rarely post anymore, the last really personal post was, maybe his fl anniversary post or his 1d anniversary post from years ago and you could argue those were verging on generic as well, everyone has an internet voice and thats its just the way he speaks online. (Tbh I'd guess he and Niall only posted because Louis and zayn did, not because they don't care but because they both keep their feelings private) besides the fact people mourn differently; he may still be processing it, he may be the one holding it together for the others he may be blaming himself etc- there's a unending list (I've felt numb and angry since the news dropped, I know something will tip me over and I'll cry but right now that's not where I am and that's okay, it's human)

I'm angry because i remember when people were all over him for not posting about Robin or Jay , he didn't post more than a picture for Matt, he didn't post about fizzy, that didn't mean he didnt mourn, anytime we've seen him after something terrible like this he looked devastated.

People act like social media is the end all for human emotions, if you don't post your feelings you don't feel them, it's like object permanence for infants if I don't see you feeling it -it you don't feel it.

Im just sick these boy have been treated like a commodity since they started and people won't give them the grace to have human reactions.

#I've got nothing to add #you said it perfectly #rip liam #liam payne

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pearlzier · 7 months ago

Text

now playing . . . cowboy by tyler the creator 𓈒⠀ ✧

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀warnings / smut, cheating, random ass boyfriend called josh, reader is wearing a skirt, oral (m!receiving), p in v, public kinda (they're outside in the garden), unprotected sex (idk no mattlings running around yetzies)

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀word count / lots of words like over 2k probably ??

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀author's note / i got so carried away this was supposed 2 be a drabble LMFAOOO have fun w this :3

"THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND. YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, ALRIGHT?" is what he was told, the moment he met you.

and he listened. he really tried to. until he couldn't anymore. until he had you pinned against the wall of his friend's house, creaming on his dick. it sounds insane, it probably was, but matt was a man pushed to his last straw with a very pretty girl at the end of it. you can't blame him for that, even if it does sound cruel. to be honest, his initial resilience and resistance of temptation should've been a dead giveaway to the way he would fall into the claws of desire so hard.

matt didn't think much when he heard that josh had gotten a girlfriend. he was happy for his friend, glad that he'd found someone. he didn't expect you to be drop dead fucking gorgeous. to be so pretty. he had to do a double take when he first saw you, absolutely stunned. josh wasn't that bad looking, no, but.. to pull a girl like you was a massive feat for anyone. you're like, so fitting for josh. but at the same time, that makes you fitting for matt. of course you are.

he's fully aware of how he stared at you the first time he saw you, which caused josh to say—"that's my girlfriend. you stay the fuck away from her, alright?"—bringing him out from the daze of lewd thoughts and inappropriate positions his brain had already put you in. was he a shit friend? probably.

this resulted in matt having a bit of a staring problem as you'd called it. it wasn't creepy or anything, it was actually appreciated and polite. albeit very much loaded. it was like you knew he was head over heels for you and decided to dangle your affection infront of him in some form of torture. it was not fair how he had to hide his boner around you. absolutely torture.

he couldn't hang out with josh like he used to simply because of your presence. and you fucking knew it too, you tease. it was your favourite thing to wear the tiniest clothes around him or simply bat your lashes and giggle in the most adorable way. matt was pretty sure you wanted him dead, just from how amazing you were. once again, at a party held at josh's place, he's day dreaming a little taking you in. his blue eyes flicker over you, he swallows thickly, glancing down at the soda he had in his hands. he'd barely drank any of it, if any. too distracted by your presence.

trying to focus his attention on something else, he glances away from you, focusing his attention on some other girls dancing together. they want his attention, you just.. capture his attention without even trying. until you actually did try to get his attention, flashing him that soft little smile when your eyes met his. he has to practically force his jaw shut after it drops at the sight of you. he's so whipped for his friend's girlfriend.

matt curses himself for the way he glances away like a little kid when you meet his gaze, and he knows you most definitely saw it. he swallows hard, trying to focus on somerhing but you once more. it becomes impossible when he feels a presence which he knows is most definitely you beside him. his mouth goes dry.

"hi, matt," you say, all coy, like you don't know the exact effect you have on him. matt glances up at you, trying not to seem as awkward as he feels. his lashes flutter as he tries ro come up with a response that feels chill, not.. insane. "hey," he settles on—it's simple, casual. doesn't betray the thoughts in his head.

the smile on your glossy lips only grows at that. it's like you can see directly through him into his soul. your eyes rake over him for a moment, as you consider what to say, "you havin' fun?" you watch him, waiting for a response even if you know exactly how he's feeling. matt goes quiet, brain whirling once more in an attempt to seem normal. "sure," he starts, "just.. y'know.." great job, matt. he seems so normal, right? great.

the laugh you let out at his response has his gut tightening along with his jeans, and he swears he can feel his heart in his throat for a moment. matt runs his fingers through his hair, playing with his rings in a nervous movement. "y'know?" your words are soft, curious, as if coaxing him to continue. he really doesn't want to, but he does, anyway.

"uh," matt scratches the back of his neck, an awkward chuckle slipping past his lips. you don't think its awkward at all, no, you think it's adorable. endearing. he's adorable. "a little bored, i guess, but.. never really been much of a party guy," his blue eyes meet yours again and the intensity, the tension, makes him glance away once more. you laugh again, making his cheeks flush.

"bored? here? m'surprised, everyone's like.. having the time of their lives," you're not wrong—everyone is having the time of their lives.

"i could think of plenty of other things that would constitute as the time of my life, this isn't one of 'em," matt snarks playfully, finding himself comfortable with you almost instantly. you have this vibe, this comfortable aura that makes people relax and chill out. trustworthy, in a way. "i get it, don't worry. besides the dancing and people and.. things, it's not that entertaining." he can agree with that, and he nods, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leans back against the wall.

this allows him a moment to take you in. he shouldn't have done that. that once over only made his thoughts about you worse. horrifically worse, oh god. matt glanced at the ceiling as if the faint stain on it was interesting. it wasn't. he'd much rather leave stains with you on some sheets. even he cringed at his own thoughts. "come outside with me," you offer after a moment. everything about you oozes innocent but matt can't help but think you're anything but. he thinks about josh and swallows, mumbling, "i don't think josh would like that very much."

"he's not here right now, is he?" you remember very vividly josh had gone out to grab some drinks for the party with another friend of his, having headed to the convenience store near his house. which left you with free reign of the party, and the chance to do whatever you fucking pleased. and you wanted to do matt. the obvious answer.

matt's a tiny bit stunned by your words and he blinks slowly, processing for a minute before his brain catches up and he nods quickly, pushing off of the wall with an eagerness he's embarassed at. "you're right," he starts, "yeah, okay," he nods towards the door leading outside to the back garden with the hot tub and such. he's a tiny bit nervous you're playing with him, to go back and tell josh what he's doing, however you seem just as into this as he is, and he nods once more.

he takes the lead, glancing back frequently to check you're still there. you are, thankfully, and he gains a tiny bit more confidence. "you look nice," he murmurs, quiet, so if you didn't hear him he wouldn't have to repeat himself. you did hear him, however, and you feel flush at that. that soft smile only grows more, "thank you. can say the same," matt laughs softly, glancing away bashfully. he holds the door for you, delighting in the way your soft body brushes against his. he wants to feel more. wants to feel you under him, above him, around him.

it's cool outside, an easy breeze that contrasts to the warm heat of bodies within the house. you visibly relax which makes him relax too. he's quiet, you're quiet, the two of you making your way to a quiet part of the garden. it's sort of an alley, the bit between the back gate and the house itself. he likes how private it is. "so," matt starts, "so," you respond in return. it's not an awkward silence, but gentle. he laughs softly, he doesn't even know why. you're just so pretty it makes him giddy. and he says it. "you look so pretty."

"you think i look pretty?" you know you look pretty. when don't you?

"uh-huh," he nods, gently. "real pretty," he swallows hard. you overwhelm him. "sometimes i think—" he shouldn't go down that rabbit hole, especially not infront of you.

but he'd already gone too far, you'd heard him. "you think what?" you're always so attentive and inquisitive, he hates it. not really, he adores it, but sometimes he wishes you'd let things slide more often. matt curses under his breath, blue eyes soft.

"sometimes i think about if you were mine," matt's voice is quiet, almost scared as to how you'll react. he thinks you'll flip out at him, slap him, call him insane. but you don't, a soft looking appearing in your eyes. you look at matt with this gentle curiosity that coaxes him into saying more; "because you're.. you're just so gorgeous, and sweet, and funny, and you smile at me when i'm having the shittest days ever and i just fucking wish you weren't with josh because god, i'd make you feel so good, baby," he doesn't think twice about calling you baby and you don't think twice about how good you feel when he says that.

"now you're just begging me to kiss you," your tone is playfully soft, and matt looks a tiny bit weary, like he's scared you're joking. his plush lips are parted, soft puffs of air slipping past, "kiss me?" he asks gently, blue eyes innocent in how surprised he is. you want to kiss him?

you decide to answer without words, gently grasping at his hoodie and drawing him in for a gentle kiss. your lips meet, a soft groan slipping past matt's lips almost instantly. his hands hover around your waist, as he's scared to touch you, like he doesn't deserve to, so you gently mumble against him, "you can touch me," just to make it crystal clear you're okay with this. his lips are soft, gentle, his mouth tasting faintly like the soda he'd been drinking and a faint vanilla lip balm that made his lips so plush. your lips are equally soft, the glitter of your lip-gloss transferring to his lips and leaving a glittery sheen on them.

matt lets out a soft whine when your lips have to come off eachother, to simply get air. fuck air, he thinks to himself, but he doesn't say it outloud. "josh," he says gently, his brain immediately thinking to the worst scenario. you, however, don't look fussed. "what about him?" your relaxed demeanour and absolutely no worry in your gait makes his cheeks flush more, but also a confidence grow within him. he quickly grasps at your hips and brings you into him, thumbs stroking over the fabric of your skirt.

"nothing," he says quietly, practically breathing you in. the smell of your perfume made him dizzy. he wanted to suffocate in it. god, if you heard his thoughts.. "no—nothing about him," he slides his hands over your sides, and he's trying to resist the urge to grope at your body. "nothing, ma," he wants to kiss you again. "can i kiss you again?"

"mhm," you hum gently, preening into his touch with your eyes lifting up to his. your smile only grows, a giggle slipping past your lips once more. "i suppose so." matt eagerly slips his hand down to your ass, grasping gently to tug you impossibly closer before he presses his lips to yours again. his tongue brushes yours, and you eagerly reciprocate it again. as he grasps at your ass, your hands slide to his arms and hold yourself against him.

"god, you're so pretty," he murmurs against your lips, whimpering the words out gently. you slide your hands up and down his arms, making a shiver flutter down his spine a little. "s'not fair, how come he gets you?" his voice is whiny, like he really can't believe that you're his, even if he wants you so bad.

you raise your brows, "you're getting me right now." your words are a soft reminder, that he shouldn't think about his bestfriend, your boyfriend at this very moment. matt practically melts the moment you drop to your knees infront of him. he glances around frantically for a second as if josh is gonna pop out of a bush or something. this feels like a dream, like it's not real, but your fingers tugging on the zip of his jeans was very much real.

"are you not uncomfortable?" of course that's what he's worried about. your comfort. it's adorable how his blue eyes search yours to find any hesitation. he doesn't find any.

"m'fine, don't worry yourself 'bout it, matt," he's dreamed of this before. woken up with his boxers sticky at the thought of you on your knees for him. he swallows thickly, "okay," he breathes out, sounding a little on edge.

matt whines under his breath when you tug at the zip, his chest rising and falling in gentle breaths whilst he watched you. the cold air hits his thighs when you manage to tug down the denim previously covering him, and he lets out a nervous little laugh. "oh my god," he mumbles, he'd never thought he'd have you like this. your fingers brush his legs, making him practically buckle at the knees. "you don't have to, i mean—" he'd fully planned on being the one to make you feel good, but from how eagerly you're tugging at his boxers, he's pretty sure he'll get to wait.

"i want to, though," there's such certainty in your voice. it's attractive.

he swallows thickly when he feels you tug down his boxers, a quiet yelp slips past his lips. his tip leaks precum, clearly having been doing so for a while now considering the stain on the front of his boxers. matt would feel embarassed if it wasn't for how badly he wants to fuck your throat till you cry, pretty tears on your cheeks. he's so hard, it almost hurts. "you look so good," he mumbles quietly, "oh, god."

your eyes flutter over him, taking in the sight of his cock appraisingly. "says you," matt blushes instantly at your words, "me? pretty? that's just because my dick's out, isn't it?"

"that too," you shrug, running your fingers up over his thigh. the touch is light, and you realise you like touching him a lot. the faint shiver in his leg, the way he watches you so attentively at every tiny movement—you feel wanted. so, so wanted. more than josh ever made you feel. he instinctively pumps his hand on his cock, a pitiful whine slipping past him as his head tilts back a little. he hasn't even been touched yet, and he's yours. he thumbs his slit for a moment, coaxing more precum to drip. smearing it over the swollen head, he gently guides it to your mouth, watching as the tip pushed against your plush lips. "is this okay? do you—is this.." matt doesn't know why he's so nervous. he'd been with plenty of girls before so this isn't anything different, but it is. you're amazing.

"you're worried," you start, "but i wanna make you feel good," words mumbled against his tip, you leave little kisses as you speak—"let me," you say softly, watching as he strokes his cock once more. matt's hesitant for another moment, scared of making you uncomfortable, before he decides to let go of those fears and just go for it. his hand slides to the back of your head, cradling as he tugs your mouth onto him, watching your plush lips stretch to accommodate his girth. the sight is gorgeous, a gasp escaping him as he watches you.

"holy shit," he's gentle with you, wanting to worship the land you walk on in this very moment. your pretty eyes on his as you gag around him a little, grasping at his thighs to steady yourself. your lips leave a little gloss imprint on him, a quiet giggle coming from him at that. but he's also giddy about how warm your mouth feels around him, and the urge to just start thrusting his hips is palpable. "you feel so.." his hips move in gentle, shallow thrusts, trying not to go too far. you moan around him, a pretty sound which makes him whimper again.

your lashes fluttering as you swirl your tongue around the tip, making a mess of him as your drool runs in globs down the sides of his cock. he likes the way you struggle a little, but his head's fuzzy at how good you make him feel. "so, so good, ah, ah—" matt makes the prettiest noises, eyes squeezing shut the moment he starts rutting his hips against you, bullying his dick further down your throat. "fuck, fuck, shit.. like that.." he mumbles under his breath, hands drawing you closer by the back of your head.

it doesn't help the way you start to bob your head, his thighs tensing beneath your touch as he whines, "so.. fuck.. makin' me feel so good, baby, uh-huh," you have to breathe through your nose to take him as deep as you want, which is deeper than matt had anticipated. not that he was complaining. you felt so good, your mouth so warm and wet around him. more precum leaks from his tip at your motions, and you swallow for a moment slowly, the salty taste making you moan around him.

that makes his thighs tense once more, a quiet whimper bubbling from his throat before it drops into a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he grunted out, "gonna cum, shit.. mmh, gonna—gonna cum," thick, white ropes of cum spurt as he lets go, warming your throat and painting its surface. he holds you close still, even as you swallow down his load, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths.

he looks so pretty like this—all blissed out and weightless from how good you'd just made him feel. his lashes flutter, blue eyes now on yours as his eyes open, and he stammers out quickly, "i'm so sorry, i didn't ask, i just assumed that.. that—"

"it's okay, hey," you liked everything he was doing. it felt good. you enjoyed swallowing whatever he gave you, it wasn't like you weren't enjoying yourself. the awkward way in which he handled his feelings towards you made your heart warm, a soft, nervous smile playing on his plush, pink lips now. "yeah?" he asks gently, swallowing hard. he's got an idea, brewing in his head. "okay. uhm, here, uh.."

he glances down at himself, embarassed at how hard he still is despite the fact he'd just came down your throat. but he's got a plan to fix that, as his hands slip down to help you back up. "here.." he mumbles, a little clumsy in how he handles you but it's still way more.. comfortable than it is with josh. even when you're outside against a brick wall. "is this okay?" he asks, running a ring-clad hand over the curve of your thigh for a moment before he presses you against the wall, letting your back come against it.

"this is okay," even a simple, is this okay, has you soaked. he's so considerate.

"it is?" he asks, gently, fingers brushing the hem of your underwear, tugging slowly with a curl of his index and middle.

"you're worrying," you murmur, expression soft.

"just wanna treat you right," matt says gently, tugging down your underwear finally. you flinch a little at the cold air hitting your wet cunt, his blue eyes following the string of your arousal clinging to your panties from your hole. he swallows thickly at the sight, sliding your underwear into his pocket for safe keeping. it'd be a miracle if you got those back after. "make you feel as good as you made me, baby," he shifts you against the wall.

you're pretty sure you're dripping down your thighs, and matt can't help a bashful smile at the sight. "up," he says gently, and you oblige, lifting your legs to hook around his waist so he holds you up with his body. it's an interesting position, but this is an interesting predicament, you suppose. "thank you," he says gently, unable to stop himself. he feels.. just.. amazing.

"what are you thankin' me for?" you giggle, head tilting. you're trying not to focus on how good you feel as the head of his cock glides over your folds, parting them gently enough to rub against your clit. he hasn't even been inside you yet and you're pretty sure you could make a mess right there and then.

"lettin' me have you," matt says it like it's obvious, scoffing a little at the way you look at him so curiously. his hands slide down to your thighs, gripping and tugging you closer to hold you up and give himself leverage to slide into you. he pumps his hand over himself once or twice, smacking the head against your cunt before he slowly starts pushing into your tight hole. a whine escapes both of you when he does so, the tight stretch making both you and matt shiver. "oh god, oh.."

if he could stay buried in you forever, he would. if you could have him in you forever, you would. he stretches you so good, a little muffled whimper coming from you as you'd nuzzled into his shoulder to keep yourself steady. "matt," you whine, "so good," he revels in your praise, a fluttery feeling in his stomach at how you seem to adore him. matt's careful, easing himself into you till he bottoms out, fitting snug within your sensitive pussy.

his head tilts back with a groan, content to just stay there like that, but he can feel you grow a tad bit impatient with a little rock of your hips. "i got you," he says with a little nod, slowly easing back before he rocks his hips forward again. he does this a couple more times till he finds an easy rhythm, the slickness of your pussy allowing him to just slip in and out. "is this o—"

"matt, it's fucking okay," he can't help but laugh at the way you snap st him, your words shaky as you watch the way his cock disappears into your tight hole, the wet sounds making your stomach feel all fluttery just like his. the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin makes you feel all the more connected to matt, your eyes searching his. "it's okay, more than—shit, mmh.." you just make the perfect sounds as he gradually finds himself pounding into you, hands holding you up against him.

his movements are a little sloppy and clumsy, a testament to how badly he wants you, wants you to feel good, wants to feel the way you clench around him when you cream on him. "like that, like that, shit, fuck me like that," your whimpers only make him thrust harder, his eyes locked on the bounce of your tits with everytime his hips meet yours. every inch of you is intoxicating for him.

"you feel like heaven, baby, god," he grunts out, feeling the way your tight walls squeeze him, practically trapping him there. he keeps it up, free hand lifting to palm at your chest, gently squeezing. he can't help himself, and you can't help but cry out louder. the music of the party is loud enough to mask your sounds anyway, you're sure of it. "this pussy, mmh, could die right here, poundin' your tight cunt, baby."

"uh-huh? yeah?" you coax, feeling your head spin as he hits every spot. his tip hammers into that gummy spot inside of you that makes you cry out with every hard thrust of his hips, and he groans under his breath as you start to clench around him again. "shit, matt, m'gonna cum, i can't, gonna—"

"yeah? yeah? me too, me too, baby, c'mon," he squeezes at your chest once more before his hand slides back down to your thighs, his thrusts only becoming more forceful, making your legs tighten around his waist and inner walls squeeze him even more. "me too, cum for me, cum with me, i got you, that's it, that's my girl," his hips stutter once more, especially when you cream on his cock like that, his blue eye falling instantly to the way your release oozes down him. it soon mixes with his own, a lewd, wet sound squelching out as he pulls out from you a moment after.

his chest rises and falls in heavy breaths, as does yours, recovering from how intense your orgasms were. even then, he feels like he could go again. a million times. maybe after a second, you'd definitely go again too. he's about to go to speak when he hears a call pull up outside, most definitely josh, and your eyes widen, "matt—"

"my place," he tells you, no negotiation in his tone. he wasn't done with you. he doesn't think he'll ever be done with you.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor , @sturncakez , @luverboychris , @sirenedeslily , @evrithingbagel , @sl4ttformattsturniolo , @mattsturnihoe , @aphroditepjo , @mazzystar111 , @flouvela , @stonermattsgf , @str4wberryk1ss3s

#𐙚˙ ana writes ⋆.˚#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

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metyouinthehallway · 1 month ago

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𝒞𝒪𝐿𝒟 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒜

summary; matt & you have been hooking up for quite sometime now, you decide that now is as good as ever to tell him how you feel. even if he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings.

a/n: matt’s a bit of a dick in this, sorry😟

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Matt picked you up from your apartment an hour ago, at first, you two were aimlessly driving around Los Angeles until about twenty minutes ago when he found a secluded parking lot. He shifted the car into park and crawled into the backseat.

You followed, straddling his lap, a heated makeout session set about in the backseat of his car. Hands touching clothed skin and soft moans escaping both of your lips. You and him grasping onto any warmth possible, entangling yourselves in the pure bliss of each others presence. It being below 40 degrees in California led to the windows fogging up a lot quicker than usual.

Your lips dance with Matt’s, tugging at his hair, you find yourself needing him impossibly closer to you, needing to inhale his every minty breath and make this something more than it should be.

It’d been a few months since the two of you agreed on the whole friends with benefits arrangement. That’s all this was supposed to be though, just itching a scratch that both of you had. No feelings involved.

To Matt, that's exactly what this was. No feelings involved, no sappy, soft sex. None of that bullshit. He just wanted to get off every once in a while.

To you, it began as the same thing but, of course, you caught feelings. It made you feel disgusted in yourself, then it spiraled into shaming yourself for sleeping around with him. You hid it well though, Matt was completely oblivious to the fact that his friend had any emotional connection to him.

His hands roamed under your shirt, his fingers warming up your cold torso as he continued to kiss you, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck.

“Matt…” You mumble. You couldn’t do it, not this time. You needed to tell him how you felt.

“Mhm?” He hums in response, his movements not stopping.

“N- need to talk to you…” Matt halts at those words, as any guy would. He looks up at you, his blue eyes boring into yours with concern. “I..” You start, unable to verbalize the thoughts that have been consuming your mind for the past few weeks.

“It’s just me, you can tell me anything.” Matt mutters, his arms wrapping around your waist. He was nervous, anticipating the next words to leave your mouth.

“Look,” You sigh, your hands anxiously toying with the hem of your shirt. “I’m really stupid, like insanely stupid. I…” You struggle to complete the sentence, hoping Matt would be able to piece this together for himself but his brows furrow, signaling for you to continue.

“I like you, Matt.” You rip the bandage off, the knot in your stomach continuously growing tighter as you wait for his response. He closes his eyes, throwing his head back onto the seat with an exaggerated groan.

“I thought we agreed to no feelings.” He simply states, eyes still closed, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, but I can’t control the way I feel.” You frown, disappointed in his reaction, you climb off of his lap, sitting as far away from him as possible in the compact car.

“Okay, I get that, but come on y/n. We had something good goin’ here.” He opens his eyes, looking at you. His expression laced with disappointment and confusion, Did he do something? When did this even happen? What happens now? All questions that swarm his head.

You groan in annoyance, not sure what to say. What does one even say in response to that? You’re unable to think straight for a moment, blaming your heart for overtaking your actions.

“I’m sorry? It’s just… sometimes when we're-” You stop yourself from continuing the thought. You watch as he opens the car door, he slams it shut, returning to the driver's seat.

“Get up front.” Are the only words that leave his mouth, his tone more snappy now. You nod, feeling ashamed of yourself, sitting back in the passenger's seat. Matt starts driving onto the vacant streets of Los Angeles, the car looming with tension and unspoken words from both of you. The only sounds heard are the car moving along the pavement and the soft roar of the engine.

He reaches a stoplight, turning to look at you for a moment. The red rays from the traffic light illuminate his face as he opens his mouth to speak. “I guess I just don’t understand. We should stop doing this for a while if you feel that way.” He declares, feeling sad for a different reason than you.

“Probably, yeah.” You sigh, tucking you legs in front of your chest. Matt pulls up to your apartment complex, looking at you as if to say something but he decides against it.

“See ya soon.” You say blandly, your hand reaches for the handle, but he stops you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“I knew we should’ve never started this shit.” Matt sighs, his eyes twinkle with remorse as the words leave his mouth.

“What?” You scoff at his words. You knew you fucked up by telling him how you feel but, that’s all he has to say? …Really?

“Y’know what I mean.” He shrugs “I knew one of us would end up catching feelings, y/n. Now it’s gonna be awkward when we hang out.” He releases your shoulder, his words dangle in the space between you and him. He knew. As in, he was prone to the same possibility.

But,

He regrets it, he regrets you and he didn’t even have to tell you that for it to be known.

“Okay.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat, the car suddenly felt much smaller than it was. In reality, you just wanted to get the hell out.

“Let’s be real here. I mean, did you really think that I’d start liking you just because we fucked a few times?” Matt sneers, his words were venom leaving his lips and you just so happened to be his prey. Each word that left his mouth only stabbing you in the chest more.

“What the fuck?” Your jaw slacks at his words and for the first time, you felt threatened in Matt’s presence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, practically storming out of his car with the dramatic slam of the aluminum door.

Was that all you were to him? Just some fuck doll to use whenever he pleased?

Bolting up to your apartment, the screech of rubber on black pavement could be heard from two stories up, signaling Matt’s departure.

Sighing when you enter the safety of your living room, You find yourself hoping you’d never have to see him again. Not after this. But alas, you were friends. Not only with him, but his brothers too. It was inevitable you’d have to socialize with him sometime soon.

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Pt.2 here

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ericshoney · 8 months ago

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Interrupt ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You agreed to film a car video with the guys but you couldn't help keep interrupting Nick due to your random thoughts, resulting in a fight.

Warnings: Shouting, swearing, ADHD!Reader, argument, angst with a happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~

Today you had gone to hang out with your best friends, agreeing to film a car video with them. The guys knew about your ADHD and being an influencer yourself, you were open about it on the internet.

All four of you were sat in the car, eating McDonald’s happily as Nick began to intro the video.

“Hey look at this funny TikTok I found of a dog!” You shouted, cutting Nick off.

You showed the video to the boys, Nick sighing as you did. All of them loved you and helped where they could with your ADHD, but they weren’t professionals.

Nick continued to talk about the video topic, however you kept interrupting him. It was like Chris but worse and Nick started to get angry.

“Shh! Your on time out for a minute!” He shouted, setting a timer on his phone, as Chris and Matt both laughed.

You pouted as he kept taking, Matt and Chris taking as well and as soon as the time stopped, you talked again.

“I think that food looks disgusting! I mean dog food looks better!” You shouted, looking at the gross food.

"Okay, what about thi-" Nick began saying, but you interrupted him.

"Oh remember that TikTok of that guy who tried dog food!" You shouted.

"Shh!" Nick exclaimed.

"Go Nick." Matt said.

"I'm trying!" He responded loudly.

"Dude calm down." Chris said.

"No! I'm actually getting pissed off now. She's constantly interrupting me every second! Like at least you keep your mouth shut for a bit, Chris." Nick responded.

You frowned a bit, Matt already turning the camera off, knowing none of them wanted this footage to be recorded.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean too." You apologised.

"You always say that, but you keep doing it. Like shut the fuck up and let someone else speak! You can't blame your ADHD all the time!" He shouted.

You fell quiet and looked out the window, feeling your heart sink. You had forgotten to take your meds this morning, resulting in you being extra loud and bubbly. They guys didn't know this though.

"Let's carry on, shall we." You said quietly.

"I promise I won't interrupt you Nick, or Matt or Chris. I promise to keep my mouth shut." You added.

"No, kid. We're not filming right now. I'm driving home and we can continue filming another time." Matt said, starting the engine.

Chris had agreed while Nick remained quiet. He instantly regretted shouting at you, especially hearing your apology for no reason.

When you all returned home, you rushed to Matt's room, taking shelter in there, as Matt slapped Nick around the head.

"Hey woah!" He shouted.

"Dude you fucked up." Chris said.

"I just got angry alright, I shout at both of you sometimes." Nick responded.

"Yeah and we take it differently to her. Plus you know she can't help it with her ADHD, why use that against her." Matt said, disappointingly.

"I know and as soon as I said it, I felt bad." Nick admitted.

"Go tell her then, bro!" Chris called.

Nick came to Matt's room and as soon as he heard you crying, he felt his heart break instantly. He walked in coming over and hugging you tightly.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean anything I said. I was just a bit angry and I know you can't help it I really do, I'm sorry and know it's a fucked up thing. I get if your angry at me." He apologised.

"Didn't have my meds. I forgot." You admitted.

"Kid, why didn't you tell us?" Nick asked softly.

"Scared you'd tell me off or something....but that already happened." You answered.

"I'm so sorry again. I really am." He apologised again.

"If your willing, how about Chris, Matt and I help you try and remember your meds? Come up with some sort of plan that we'll stick by too, then we help you out and something like this won't happy again." He suggested.

"You....You want to help me?" You asked in shock.

"Of course sweetheart. I'm so sorry again for shouting at you, I should have checked if you had your meds or needed time to regulate before jumping to being a asshole." He replied.

"Thank you." You said, giving him a small smile.

"Your welcome and I'm so sorry again." He said.

You smiled and hugged him, happy he apologised and knew he was going to do better to help you and make up for his mistake.

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lee-laurent · 6 months ago

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Finding A Way - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke is smitten with the new media girl for the Devils, the only issue... she has a boyfriend already (and he's a Flyers fan)

Content: angst, fluff, cheating, unhealthy relationship, emotional abuse, mentions of sex but no smut

wc: 6.5k

notes: this fic deals with some serious issues, so if you're not comfortable reading PLEASE do not continue. your mental health is wayyyyy more important than a fic, i promise :) however if you do decide to read, enjoy! i've had this written in my notes app for a while and just decided to finish it and put it on here!

Adelaide giggled as Luke stopped suddenly, letting the ice spray over the girl and her camera. Jack watched from the other side of the ice with Nico, rolling his eyes at the sight. Luke had been flirting with the new media girl since the season started but was still adamant that he didn't like her in a romantic way.

"When is he gonna ask her out?" Nico asked, knocking his should with Jack's.

"He still claims that he doesn't like her," Jack shrugged, narrowing his eyes as Adelaide giggled again.

"Well, he's clearly lying. Because they're definitely flirting."

"I keep telling him to bring her over, but he refuses."

"What's going on?" Dawson asked, joining his teammates.

"My brother is trying to get with the media girl."

"Adelaide? I don't blame him; she's hot."

"We all know she's hot, Mercer. It's just that he's too chicken to actually ask her out."

"Luke, you're supposed to be practicing," Adelaide teased, wiping the ice from her camera lens.

"I was just coming closer so you can get some good shots of me," Luke cheesed.

"I have enough photos of you. Tell your brother to start moving so I can get some of him.

"Oh, I see how it is. You want pictures of Jack, but not me. Should've known. He always gets the girls," he smirked.

Adelaid blushed at Luke's teasing, hiding her face in her hands. She'd be lying if she said she didn't find the rookie cute. He had made her feel welcome since day one, which the media girl thought was strange seeing as Luke was the shyer of the two Hughes boys.

"I didn't say that at all, Luke. Now go practice before you get us both in trouble."

Luke offered her one last smile, before joining the boys in their next drill. He caught Adelaide's eye few more times during practice, but she was busy taking pictures and speaking with her coworkers to pay him much attention. However, he was able to catch her as he was leaving the locker-room.

"Ady! Wait! Do you need a ride home?" he panted.

"Oh, um, I have a ride. Thanks though, Luke."

"Oh, who's your-"

"Babe! Come on!" a man standing near the entrance shouted. Luke felt his heart drop at the other man's words. He had just called the woman that Luke liked "babe." He could have sworn she was flirting back... guess not.

"One second, Matt! I'm just saying goodbye to Luke."

Luke watch the other man, Matt, roll his eyes and cross his arms over his chest. Tapping his foot impatiently as Adelaide turned to the rookie one last time.

"Maybe I'll bum a ride off you and Jack another time. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for the game," she smiled, patting him on the shoulder. Luke watched from afar as Matt interlaced his fingers with Adelaide's, talking to her quickly and quietly.

"Come on, Rusty. Where's Ady? I thought you were offering her a ride?" Jack asked, snapping his brother out his stupor.

"She just left with her... boyfriend?"

"She has a boyfriend? Damn. Could've sworn she was into you. Sorry, bro."

Jack's words just pissed Luke off further. He turned on his heel, storming off to the boys' car.

"Luke, you can't mope around for the rest of the day just because the media girl has a boyfriend. I mean, the whole team thinks she's hot, so I'm not surprised she's taken," Jack tried to cheer up his younger brother.

"You're not helping, Jack."

"Sorry, I'm trying," Jack rolled his eyes.

"Just leave me alone. I'm not in the mood to deal with your dumbass."

"Whatever."

"Matt, it's not like that. He was just being nice."

"Sure, he was, Ady. Because all those horny hockey boys you work with are always just 'being nice.'"

"You're being unreasonable. Luke is new like me. He's just helping me fit in."

"I don't want you talking to him unless it's work related."

"Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Ady sighed, looking down at the floor.

"It's ok, princess. I'm not mad," Matt cooed, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I love you."

"I love you too, Matt," she cracked a small smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Adelaide loved Matt. And Matt loved Adelaide. They'd been together for almost a year. He protected her from the guys she worked with, at least that's what he told her. Without Matt she wouldn't be safe. She needed him.

"Alright, have a good game. I'm out tonight with the boys, so make sure you get a ride with... what's her name? Sandra?"

"Sarah, Matt. Her name is Sarah. I've told you that like ten times today," Ady sighed, opening the car door.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter. I'll be out late, so don't wait up." And with that, Matt had driven off. Addy sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. She just needed to get through the game and ask Sarah for a ride home. Easy enough; she'd be fine. And everything would go as planned and-

"Adelaide!"

Her eyes shot up, locking with no other than Jack Hughes'. She looked around as if he'd be calling on someone else, but she was the only person in the room.

"Um, hi, Jack."

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" he begged.

"Yeah, sure. What's up?"

"So, you know my brother Luke?"

"Yeah? We work together?"

"Right, so... he has a HUGE crush on you and I was wondering if-"

"I have a boyfriend."

"Oh. Okay, but-"

"I love my boyfriend."

"But-"

"No 'buts.' This conversation is done. I love Matt."

"Yeah, you said that," Jack furrowed his brow, watching as she sped away to her office. Who was she trying to convince about loving Matt? Jack or herself?

Jack stood there, his mind racing. He watched Adelaide disappear into her office, a part of him still hopeful that maybe there was more to the situation than met the eye. But her words her clear, and it wasn't his place to push any further.

As he walked back to the locker room, he saw Luke waiting by the team's gear. The younger Hughes brother looked like he was trying to shake off a bad mood, but his face was still set in a scowl.

"Hey bro, you alright?" Jack asked, trying his best to sound natural.

Luke shrugged, not meeting his brother's gaze, "Yeah, just... not feeling great."

Jack hesitated before replying, "Look, I know you're bummed about Adelaide. But if she's with Matt and she says she loves him, then... well there's not much you can do."

Luke nodded, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. The team gathered for their pre-game talk, but the tension between the brothers was palpable. Jack glanced over at Luke frequently, wishing he could say something to make things better, but he knew some things were just out of his control.

Meanwhile, Adelaide was back in her office, trying to focus on the game. But the encounter with Jack kept replaying in her mind. She knew Matt could be overprotective, but his jealousy was like a thorn in her side.

As she was preparing to leave for the rink, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Sarah, confirming her ride home. She felt a small sense of relief. At least she wouldn't have to worry about getting home alone.

The game was intense. Adelaide took photos from the sidelines, trying to stay fully focused on her job. But her thoughts just kept drifting back to Luke and her conversation with Jack. She saw Luke on the ice, giving it his all, and she felt a pang of regret.

After the game as the players were filing out, Adelaide was about to leave when Jack approached her again.

"Hey, Ady. Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, his tone softer than before.

"Sure, what's up?" she replied, trying to hide her exhaustion.

"I just wanted to apologize if I pushed too hard earlier. I just thought maybe-"

"I appreciate it, Jack. But it really is just how things are. Matt and I... are committed to each other."

"Yeah, I get that. I just hate seeing my brother like this."

"I understand. It's complicated, and I wish it were easier. But thanks for understanding."

Jack nodded and gave her a small, sympathetic smile, "Alright, well, see you around, Adelaide."

"Bye, Jack."

As she walked out to meet Sarah, she felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. She loved Matt, but the situation with Luke had stirred up emotions she wasn't ready to confront. For now, she needed to get through the night and take things one step at a time.

The days that followed were a blur for Adelaide. Her interactions with Luke were limited to work-related conversations and occasional small talk. She did her best to remain professional, but the chemistry between the two still lingered in her mind.

One evening, after a win against the Rangers, the team was out for drinks to celebrate. Adelaide was there with Sarah, trying to enjoy the night and push away the nagging thoughts of Luke.

Luke, for his part, was trying to keep his distance, but it was clear he was still hung up on Ady. When the group decided to hit up the nearby bar after the game, Adelaide and Sarah were among the last to arrive. And once he saw her in the bar, the alcohol in his system was not going to keep him from talking to her.

"Hey, Ady," he smiled, approaching her and Sarah. "Glad you made it."

"Hi, Luke," she replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and hesitation.

They chatted casually at first, but as the night went on, Adelaide found herself increasingly drawn to Luke. They laughed together, shared stories, and for a brief moment, the complications of her life seemed to melt away. The alcohol added a sense of liberation, and she noticed Luke looking at her with an intensity that made her heart race.

Eventually, the group's conversation grew more rowdy, and Sarah got caught up in chatting with some friends of the team. Adelaide, feeling a bit detached, slipped outside for some fresh air. Luke, quickly noting her absence, followed her.

"Ady, you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, just needed a breather," she said, looking up at the stars. "It's been a long week."

Luke stepped closer, his gaze locking with hers. "You don't have to put on a brave face all the time, you know. It's okay to feel tired and burnt out."

She smiled faintly, "Thanks, Luke. It's just... everything's been a bit overwhelming lately."

Before she could react, Luke reached out and gently touched her arm. The warmth of his hand sent a shiver down her spine. Adelaide looked up, her heart pounding. Luke's gaze was intense, and she could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

In a moment of impulsive recklessness, Adelaide leaned in, and their lips met. The kiss was electric, filled with a mix of desperation and longing. For a moment, all the complications, the guilt, and the responsibilities faded away.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Adelaide's mind was racing, torn between her love for Matt and the undeniable connection she felt with Luke.

"I shouldn't have-" Adelaide started, but Luke gently placed a finger on her lips.

"It's okay," he said softly. "We don't have to figure anything out right now."

She nodded, feeling a rush of confusion and regret. "I need to get back inside."

Luke watched her walk back into the bar, a mix of hope and apprehension in his eyes. He knew that this was just the beginning of a much more complicated situation.

Back inside, Adelaide's heart was heavy as she rejoined Sarah and the group. The guilt of what had just happened weighed on her, but she couldn't ignore the thrill and the intensity of the moment with Luke. As the night went on, she tried her best to act normal, but her mind was consumer by the memory of kissing Luke.

The argument had started over something small- Matt's habit of not cleaning up after himself- but it quickly escalated. Adelaide and Matt were in the kitchen of their apartment, voices raised.

"Seriously, Matt? I've asked you a million times to clean up your dishes!" Ady's frustration was evident, as she slammed a dish into the sink.

"I'm tired of this, Ady!" Mat retorted, his face flushed with anger. "It's not like I'm trying to ignore you. I've been busy with work and-"

"Busy? You're always busy with work, but you can't even make a little effort here?!" she shouted, her hands on her hips. "It's not just about the dishes; it's about the respect!"

Matt threw his hands up in exasperation. "Respect? You think I don't respect you? I work hard so we can have a good life. I'm tired of you always nitpicking!"

"It's not nitpicking, Matthew! It's about being partners in a relationship. I feel like I'm doing everything on my own," her voice trembled.

Matt's face hardened. "Maybe if you were a little more understanding, you'd see how much I'm trying. But no, you're just focused on what I'm not doing."

Her eyes filled with tears, "I'm not asking for perfection. I'm asking for some consideration. I'm tired of feeling like I'm always the bad guy here."

Matt's anger seemed to shift into frustration. "You know what? Maybe we need some space. I can't keep doing this every day."

The harshness in his voice stung, and Adelaide felt her heart sink. "So what? You want to just walk away?"

"No, I'm just saying maybe we need to take a break from fighting all the time. I need to cool off," Matt said, grabbing his jacket. "I'm going out with the guys tonight. Maybe that'll help."

Adelaide watched as he stormed out, the door slamming behind him. She was left standing in the kitchen, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and frustration. The apartment felt cold and empty without him.

With no one else to turn to, Ady grabbed her phone and, in a moment of desperation, texted Luke, asking if she coud come over. Her unresolved emotions driving her to seek comfort elsewhere.

When she arrived at Luke and Jack's apartment, her mind was clouded with the aftermath of the fight. Luke opened the door, his concern clear as day as he saw her tear-stained face.

"Ady, what happened?" Luke asked, pulling her into the apartment.

"I just... needed to get away," she replied, her voice breaking as she sunk into the couch.

Luke sat next to her, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I don't even know where to start," she laughed bitterly. "Matt and I had this huge fight. It's like we can't even get along anymore."

As Adelaide opened up about her frustrations, the conversation slowly shifted from comforting to more personal. The tension between the two grew palpable, and before they knew it, their emotions overwhelmed them. The lines between comfort and intimacy were blurred, leading them to kiss passionately.

The next morning, Adelaide woke up with a jolt, her head pounding. She turned to find Luke beside her, a mixture of confusion and guilt washing over her.

"Luke, I... we shouldn't have," Adelaide began, her voice trembling. "This was a mistake."

Luke's face hardened. "A mistake? You think this was just a mistake?"

"Yes," she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "I love Matt. I shouldn't have let this happen."

Luke sat up, frustration evident in his voice. "So, what are you saying? That I'm just some rebound? That this meant nothing?"

"No, it's not like that," she said, reaching for his hand. "It's just-"

"Just what?" Luke snapped, pulling away. "Just that you're confused? Or that you don't know what you want?"

"It's not about you, Luke!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "It's about me and my choices. I'm committed to Matt. I need to figure out what I want."

Luke was seething. "Well, maybe you should've figured it out before coming here. This is exactly what I was afraid of- being used and then thrown away when it's convenient."

Adelaide recoiled, hurt by his words. "I never meant to hurt you."

Luke looked away, frustration and pain written on his face. "I thought we had something real, but now I see I was just a distraction."

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Adelaide said, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

Luke's expression softened slightly, but it was clear he was still hurt. "I get it. But I need time to process this. I can't just pretend it didn't happen."

"I understand," she replied, her voice just above a whisper. "I need to go."

As she gathered her things, the awkwardness and emotional distance between them was almost tangible. She glanced back at Luke, who stood silently by the door, a mix of anger and sadness in his gaze.

"I'll give you some space. I'm really sorry, Luke."

With that, she left his apartment, the weight of her actions heavy on her shoulders. As she drove away, the gravity of what had happened began to settle in, and she knew that repairing the damage she had caused would be an arduous journey.

Adelaide's hands shook as she gripped the steering wheel, her mind racing with the burden of what had just happened. Her thoughts were a chaotic swirl of guilt and confusion. She took a deep breath as she pulled into the parking garage, trying to steady herself before heading inside.

When she entered the apartment, the living room was dark, the only light coming from the sun filtering through the blinds. Matt was sitting on the couch, his posture tense and his face partially hidden in the shadows.

Her heart sank at the sight of him. "Matt, you didn't stay with the guys," she said, her voice shaky as she closed the door behind her.

Matt's gaze met hers, his eyes sharp and questioning. "Yeah. I decided to come home after all. I've been thinking."

"Oh, um, okay," she replied, trying to keep her composure as she walked further into the room.

Matt stood up and approached her, his expression a mix of concern and irritation. "So where were you? I tried calling, but you didn't answer."

Adelaide's heart raced. "I was out for a bit... I needed some fresh air. It was a rough day, ya know?"

Matt's eyes narrowed. "A bit? You were gone for hours. Did something happen?"

She hesitated, scrambling to come up with a believable excuse. "I just went for a drive to clear my head. Fell asleep in a parking lot. It's been stressful with everything going on."

Matt studied her for a moment, clearly unconvinced but unsure of what to say. "You didn't go see Luke, did you?"

The question hit her like a ton of bricks. She forced a nonchalant laugh, trying to mask her nervousness. "No, of course not. I haven't seen him. Why would you think that?"

His expression softened, but he still looked troubled. "I don't know, I guess I just... I felt like something was off. I didn't want to jump to conclusions."

Ady stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his arm. "Matt, I promise you, nothing happened. I was just out trying to process everything. I needed some space, and I didn't think to tell you because I thought you were also out."

Matt weighed her words, the tension in his shoulder easing. "Okay. I just- I don't want us to keep fighting. I care about you, Ady. I don't want there to be any secrets between us."

"I don't want that either," she said, her voice filled with sincerity she hoped would convince him. "I'm sorry for not being more communicative. I'll do better."

Matt nodded slowly, "Alright. Let's just try to move forward and work on things. I don't want to lose you."

Her heart ached, but she forced a smile. "I don't want to lose you either. We'll figure this out. I love you."

"I love you too."

They embraced, and Adelaide held him tightly, feeling both relief and guilt. As Matt settled back onto the couch, Ady joined him, trying to push away the lingering feelings from the night with Luke.

The weight of her deception was heavy, and as she sat beside Matt, the realization that she was living a lie began to settle in. She knew that maintaining the facade would be difficult, and the consequences of her actions were far from over. For now, though, she focused on keeping up the appearance of normalcy, hoping that time would help heal the rift she had created.

Luke felt like he was in a fog. The events of the previous night and that morning replayed in his mind. He knew he needed to talk to someone, but he wasn't ready to fully disclose what had happened. He decided to seek comfort in his brother, hoping for a little bit of guidance in his situation.

Jack met Luke at the rink, finding his brother sitting alone in the locker room. He approached him, a concerned look on his face.

"Hey, Rusty. You've been awfully quiet this morning. Everything okay?" Jack asked, sitting down beside him.

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not really, man. I'm feelin' pretty messed up."

Jack cocked an eyebrow, sensing the seriousness of the situation. "You wanna talk about it or..."

"Sort of. It's... complicated," Luke said, avoiding eye contact. "I had a rough night, and I'm trying to make sense of things, I guess."

Jack frowned, "You sure you don't wanna spill the beans? Sometimes talking helps, ya know?"

Luke hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's not really something I can just talk about. I made some... choices that I'm regretting, and I feel like I've fucked things up, royally."

The older Hughes studied him carefully. "I get it. But you know, if you're feeling like you screwed up, you should at least be able to talk to someone you know won't judge you. I'm your brother, it's what I'm here for."

"Not that simple. I just don't wanna drag you into this. I just need to figure out what to do next."

"Are you like in serious trouble?"

"No, Jack... not serious trouble."

"I don't need to call the cops?"

"No, Jack," he laughed bitterly.

"Alright, well, don't bottle it up. You've got people who care about you, and we're all in this together."

Luke nodded, grateful for Jack’s support but still feeling the weight of his decisions. As they got ready for practice, Luke tried to focus on the task at hand, though his mind was still troubled by the consequences of the previous night.

Adelaide avoided Luke like he was the plague the next few days. She poured herself into work, using the camera as a shield to hide behind her. She kept her interactions with the team strictly professional, but her heart began to ache the first time her eyes met Luke's.

Jack noticed the change in his brother and the photographer. Their friendship had vanished, replaced by a strained silence. One day after pratice, Jack cornered Adelaide in the hallway outside the media room.

"Hey, Ady, got a minute?" he asked, casually leaning against the wall.

"Sure, Jack. What's going on?"

"I noticed that you and Luke have been... off lately. Did something happen?"

Her heart raced, but she forced a large smile. "No, nothing happened. We've just been busy with work and all!"

"Come on, Ady. I know you better than that. You two were inseperable when he started here, and now I don't think I've seen you talk to him in days. Did you guys have an argument or something?"

She sighed, the guilt weighing down her shoulders. "It's complicated. I don't want to get into it."

"Oh. Look, I get it if you don't wanna share. But just know that I'm here if you wanna talk. I care about you, so seeing you both like this is kinda hard."

"Thanks, Jack," her voice barely above a whisper. "Appreciate it."

"See you on the ice!"

"Yup."

God, what had she gotten herself into?

The rink was filled with sounds- the sharp scrape of skates on ice, the hollow thud of the puck hitting the boards, the shouted command of coaches, and the occasional shutter of Adelaide's camera lense. Luke Hughes moved with a ferocity that caught the attention of everyone on the ice. His usual smooth, calculated movements had been replaced by agressiveness. Every stride was powerful, every check delivered with a force that echoed through the arena.

"What's up with Rusty?" Jack muttered to Nico, who was stretching nearby.

Nico followed Jack's gaze. "Not sure, but he's been playing like he's possessed. Did something happen?"

Jack shrugged, keeping his eyes on Luke. "Don't know. He's been... off lately. Keeps to himself a lot more."

As practice continued, Luke's focus remained unbroken. He intercepted passes, delivered bone-rattling checks, and fired shots with pinpoint accuracy. His teammates began to whisper among themselves in the locker room, buzz building about the youngest Hughes.

"Hey, Lukey, what's going on with you?" Nico approached him.

Luke shrugged, "Focusing on my game. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that you're playing like you're trying to prove something. Or like you're trying to forget something."

Luke clenched his jaws, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his towel. "Drop it, Nico. I'm just trying to play better."

"Alright, man. But if you need me, I'm here. Don't shut out the team."

Luke didn't respond, instead shoving his gear into his bag with a force that spoke for itself. Whatever was eating at him was serious, and the team feared it would affect more than just his game.

Adelaide was at her desk, her fingers flying against her keyboard as she edited photos from their last game. She was immersing herself in her work, hoping it would distract her from her inner turmoil. She was focusing on her job and spending as much time with Matt as possible.

The door to her office swung open, and Luke stepped inside, his presence immediately filling the small space. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the determined look on his face.

"We need to talk," his voice barely concealing his anger.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Luke, I'm busy right now. Can it wait?"

"No," he said firmly, closing the door behind him. "We're not leaving this room until we sort this out."

"What is there to sort out? We made a mistake, and we need to move on."

"A mistake?" his voice rose. "Is that all it was to you?"

Adelaide flinched at his tone, "It's not that simple, Luke. You know it's not."

"Then make it simple for me," he demanded, stepping closer. "Do you have feelings for me or not?"

She looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze. "It doesn't matter what I feel. I'm with Matt. I've made a commitment to him."

Luke's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "So, you're just going to ignore what's between us? Pretend it doesn't exist?"

"What choice do I have?" she voice shook. "I love Matt. I can't just throw that away because I slept with you one time."

"Is that all you think this is? A fling?" his voice was filled with heart.

Adelaide felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "No, but it can't be more than that. It's too complicated."

Luke took a step back, "You're scared. You're scared to admit that you want something different. That you might actually care about me. That you aren't happy with Matt."

"That's not true," she whispered, her resolve crumbling. "I do care about you, but it's not fair to anyone if I act on it."

"Fair?" Luke scoffed. "Life isn't fair, Adelaide. You can't just ignore your feelings because it's inconvenient."

She shook her head, the tears spilling over. "I'm trying to do the right thing. I can't hurt Matt like this."

"And what about me?" his voice cracked. "Do I not matter?"

"Of course you matter," she cried, reaching out to him. "But I can't do this. I can't be with you."

Luke stared at her a moment, his breathing heavy. Then, without warning, he crossed the distance between them in two quick strides and cupped her face in his hands. Before she could react, his lips were on hers, kissing her with a desperation that took her breath away.

She was stunned at first, but then melted into it, her hands gripping his shirt to ground herself. For a moment, all her feelings of guilt and doubt vanished, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of being with him. Of being with Luke.

But reality crashed back in and she pulled away, panting. "Luke, we can't."

"Don't tell me you didn't feel that. Don't tell me you don't want this."

"I do want it. But I can't. I have to think about Matt. I have to think about everyone else."

Luke's shoulders fell, the fight leaving his body. "Fine. If that's how you feel, I'll back off. But don't expect me to just forget out this. About... us."

Adelaide sat back down, staring blankly at her computer screen. The photos she was supposed to be editing blurred together, her mind far too preoccupied. She sighed, rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to clear her mind. They kiss that they had just shared haunted her, the memory replaying over and over again, making it impossible to do any work.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Matt: "Dinner tonight? Been missing you lately <3"

Guilt twisted her stomach as she typed back her response. "Sure, sounds great. I miss you too."

She hit send and put her phone down. She felt like a fraud. Everything felt tainted by her feelings for Luke. She decided to take a break from working, grabbing her coat and leaving the office. She was craving some fresh air. As she walked, she called Sarah. The one person she knew she could talk to about anything, and right now, she really needed her advice.

"Hey, Ady! What's up?"

"Hey, Sarah. Can you meet up? I really need to talk."

"Of course. How about the coffee shop near the area in fifteen?"

"Perfect. See you soon."

Adelaide arrived quickly and ordered herself a latte. When Sarah walked in, she felt a wave of relief. Sarah took one good look at her and knew something was wrong.

"What's going on, Ads?"

"I've messed up, Sarah. Big time."

Sarah reached across the table and held her hand. "Tell me everything."

Over the next hour, Adelaide spilled her guts to her confidante. Telling Sarah all about her feelings for Luke, the kiss, the night they spent together, and the guilt that was tearing her apart.

"Ady, it sounds like you're in a really tough spot. But you have to honest with yourself and with Matt. This isn't fair to anyone, especially not to you."

"I know. But I don't know how to choose. I care about them both so much."

"Maybe you need some time to figure things out. Take a step back, give yourself some space to think about what you really want."

"You're right I just need to clear my head. Thanks, Sar."

"No worries, Ads. That's what I'm here for."

"Luke, we need to talk."

"Not now, Jack," Luke muttered, not even looking away from the TV.

"Yeah, now," Jack insisted. "You've been acting insane. What's going on?"

"I can't, Jack. Just... drop it."

"Nope. Not happening," Jack sat next to him, turning off the TV. "Whatever this is, it's eating you alive. Talk to me."

Luke's frustration boiled over. "It's Adelaide, alright? We... we kissed. We... slept together. And then things got out of hand."

"You and Adelaide? Seriously?" Jack's eyes widened in shock.

"She said it was a mistake, that she loves Matt. But... I can't get her out of my head."

"Holy shit, Luke. That's... a lot. But you can't keep it bottled up. It's tearing you apart."

"I know... but I don't know what to do."

"Look, you need to talk to her. Clear the air. This tension is gonna kill ya both. And if she really loves Matt, you need to try to respect that and move on."

"Yeah. I know. But it's so damn hard."

"I get it, bro. But just take it one step at a time. And remember I'm here for you. Even when you royally fuck up like this."

That evening when Adelaide walked in the door, she could already feel Matt's anger. He was pacing back and forth in the living room.

"Adelaide. We need to talk," his voice was taut with anger.

"What about, Matt?"

"About us! About how distant you've been. It's like you're here, but you're not really here," he snapped, his eyes searching hers for an explanation.

"I've been under a lot of pressure with work. You know that."

"This isn't just about work, Ady! You've been avoiding me. We barely talk anymore, and when we do, it's about the team or the game. When was the last time we slept together? When was the last time you were focused on us? What happened to us?"

She felt a pang of guilt, but also a rush of anger. "Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with your career, we wouldn't be having this problem! You're never around, Matt. And when you are, you don't speak to me!"

"That's not fair. You knew how important work was to me when we got together. I thought you supported me."

"I do support you, but I can't be the only one making sacrifices. This is a partnership, not a one-way street."

"A partnership? That's rich coming from you! You used to be my biggest cheerleader, and now I don't even recognize you!"

"Maybe I changed because you never made me feel like I mattered!" she spat back. "It's always been about you and your career, your dreams. What about mine, Matt? What about mine?"

"I never stopped you from chasing your dreams! You can't just blame all our problems on me! You made choices too."

Ady tried her best to think of a response, but Matt continued before she could.

"I can't do this anymore, Ady. I don't even know who you are anymore," his voice breaking with resignation.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe we both need to figure out what we really want," she looked down at her feet.

"I thought we wanted the same thing. But I guess not. Maybe we've grown too far apart."

"I wish things were different, Matthew. I really do."

"Yeah, me too."

For a moment, it seemed like they were about to part ways without another word. But then Adelaide made a gut-wrenching decision. "Matt, there's something I need to tell you. I.... I cheated on you. With Luke."

The confession hit Matt like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened with shock, then narrowed with rage. "What did you just say?"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. It was a mistake-"

"A mistake?" Matt exploded. "You think that's just a mistake? You've been lying to me, hiding things from me while I thought we were trying to fix things!"

Adelaide tried to reach out to him, but he stepped back, his anger turning into something darker. "I didn't want to hurt you. I was confused, and I made a terrible choice."

His face turned red with fury, "You've betrayed me, Adelaide. You've crossed a line. I can't just let this go. You've been living a lie while I've been trying to make thing work."

"I'm so sorry, Matt. Just let me explain."

"No!" his voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls. "I don't want to hear it. You've shattered everything we had. I'm done. I can't even look at you right now."

Adelaide sat in her dimly lit apartment, feeling the weight of the last few days pressing down on her. The space felt unusually empty, and the silence was almost deafening. She had spent the entire day reflecting on everything that had transpired and was now preparing for an important conversation.

Her phone buzzed, signaling Luke's arrival. She took a deep breath and went to open the door.

Luke stood there, his expression a mixture of resolve and concern. "Hey," he said softly as he stepped inside.

"Hey," Adelaide replied, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "Thanks for coming over."

They moved to the living room, sitting across from each other. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words. Adelaide broke the silence first.

"I wanted to talk about everything that's happened. I know I've hurt you. And I've hurt Matt. And I need to take responsibility for that."

Luke nodded, his gaze was steady but pained. "I appreciate you saying that. I was hurt, and it's been hard trying to understand like... why everything went down the way it did."

"I never meant to hurt you. I was confused. Stuck in a relationship that had been loveless for a while. I was avoiding issues instead of talking about them."

"I get that. I was confused too. We both made mistakes, but we can acknowledge that."

"I think... no, I know that I want to be with you, Luke. I just... can we take things slow? Like super slow? I think I need to process everything that just happened," she giggled lowly.

"Yeah, of course. I'd like that a lot, Ady. Let's take this one day at a time.

"Sounds perfect."

Luke smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Now, why don't you tell me why I'm your favourite Hughes brother," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes, "If I must..."

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine

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