#nick bottom quote | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tj-dragonblade · 2 months ago

Text

[FIC] Past the Wit of Man (or, Bottom's Dream)

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: M Word Count: 3657 Tags: comedy, attempted comedy, comedy devolving into feels, identity reveal, sex worker Hob Gadling, advancing my Men In Lingerie agenda, long-haired Hob Gadling agenda, stretching timelines like taffy, Desire and Dream get along AU, but Desire is not actively in this, Dead Boy Detectives comic spoilers mentioned, miscommunication, Dream of the Endless finally uses his words, happy ending

Notes: Kudos props and huge thanks to everyone in the Mr Sadman discord who creatively interpreted a snippet I posted of something else and launched the whole idea of Hob working for a supernatural escort service; this would not exist without y'all and your beautiful brainstorming. ❤️

This fills the August monthly @dreamlingbingo prompt Identity Reveal, replacing square A2 (creature: Veela) on my bingo card

Summary: Hob is nicely settled in a new career and a new identity and does not expect to see his Stranger until 2089. The universe, apparently, has other ideas.

On AO3

~ "Your client is Dream of the Endless. He is extremely ancient and extremely powerful, an underpinning concept of the universe. Absolutely terrible about loosening up and letting himself relax."

"Don't think I'd be much good at relaxing if I was an underpinning concept of the universe either," Hob jokes, opening the profile that the Agency rep has just airdropped to his phone and thumbing through it.

The rep, a foppish vampire with curly white hair and impeccable fashion sense, arches one elegant eyebrow at him. "Apparently his most recent girlfriend dumped him quite harshly and his sibling has arranged this booking on his behalf; he's—and I am quoting here—'absolutely incompetent at managing his own happiness'."

"He knows he's been booked though, right? I'm not gonna catch the fallout because no one told him what kind of appointment this is?" It's only happened once, a prank played on a shy ace nixie by her well-meaning but ill-informed friends; all the same, Hob does not care to repeat the experience—particularly with someone potentially more dangerous.

"He is very much aware and in agreement, yes. We promised him our top companion." The rep dimples at Hob, a smile of saccharine sincerity that shows only the barest hint of fang. "And that's you, sweet Nick."

"And that's me," Hob agrees matter-of-factly, frowning at his phone, then turning it to show his guest. "No photo?"

The rep glances at the screen and makes a commiserative noise. "Oh, yes. Unfortunate, that. Cameras have a very hard time with this fellow, something to do with his general relationship to reality." His tone takes on a simpering air of great melodrama. "We were forced to use an artist's rendition instead! Tragic, really; it doesn't do him justice."

"Huh," Hob says, turning his phone back and studying the cartoony hand-drawn image. Guy looks like he's got some sort of steampunk insect for a head, dark and bolt-laden and bug-eyed, with a trunk that's strongly reminiscent of a disembodied spine. "Dream of the Endless, you said? Looks more like a bloody nightmare."

The rep gives an exaggerated roll of his shoulders, as if shrugging off his delivery duty now that it's done, and turns to leave. "Well whatever the case, an Endless is far above the average client, darling. Give him your best."

"'Course." Hob grins. "That's why you brought the assignment to me, after all."

"Just so." The Agency rep gives a lazy wave in parting and Hob closes the door, still scrolling through the profile as he makes his way to the kitchen.

"Dozens of titles and names", he murmurs, glancing through the list of them. "King of Dreams and Nightmares, alright. Contains the entire collective unconscious of every living being in. Every…universe…?" He shakes his head. "Has never taken a vacation ever. Bested Lucifer Morningstar and oversaw the reassignment of Hell—okay, wow. Billions of years old." He whistles, a long sound of awed disbelief. "Maybe I throw in a free massage for this guy; sounds like he could use it."

He shakes his head again, pockets his phone, carries on with getting breakfast together.

Bug-headed workaholic foundational concept of the universe. Won't be the weirdest client he's ever serviced.

It's been ten years since his stranger showed up late for their meeting and smiled so openly and named him friend. That had been their longest meeting yet, lasting all afternoon and on into the evening and it wasn't until the Inn had started closing up for the night that they wound down. His stranger had spoken briefly of the missed appointment in 1989, making clear that something at least mildly traumatic had kept him away and also that he did not wish to elaborate, and Hob had let it go. There was so much to tell of his own century past, his friend remarking with interest on a great many of his stories, and it was enough. His stranger, his friend, had come back, and they'd had a lovely long meeting. Perhaps in 2089 he would be comfortable sharing more of his own story, but even if not, Hob didn't mind. He was confident once more in the friendship he'd declared back in 1889 and willing to coax it out bit by bit, meeting by meeting. He had all the time in the world, after all.

Within a year of that meeting he'd wrapped up his teaching career, arranged for ownership of the New Inn to transfer to a 'relative' in the States who'd keep it running the next few decades, and started searching for a new career for his next identity.

He stumbled quite by accident into the broader supernatural world after being stalked by two dead teenagers helping that de Rais creep who wanted to steal his immortality. It all turned out fine in the end but opened Hob's eyes to exactly how much the supernatural had integrated into the modern world around him. And once old Hettie clued him in to the existence of a certain Service Agency catering to supernatural clients, his next career path was all but decided. What was he going to do, not seize the opportunity for fantastical sexual exploration when presented with it? Life was for living! Werewolves, vampires, sirens and fae and merfolk, the occasional ghost and even an extra-terrestrial or two; scales, feathers, tentacles, knots—Hob's shown them all a good time and earned a stellar reputation among the Agency's clientele. He doesn't plan to do it forever, but he enjoys exploring new avenues and stretching his limits and 'Nick Bottom' is the perfect persona to let him do so.

And now sweet high-priced in-demand Nick has been booked to rebound-fuck an uptight concept in humanoid form who looks like something straight out of a nightmare.

Hob can't wait to completely take this guy apart one orgasm at a time until he's a boneless puddle of satiation and send him home afterwards a brand new man.

Concept. Entity. Whatever.

The booking is scheduled for the following day and when the time comes, Hob is fresh and clean and set up in the Agency's most lavish suite. He's let his hair grow the last few years, sports a proper Hozier-like mane at this point, is wearing it down for this appointment. His beard is several weeks old, trimmed to artfully-scruffy perfection and well-groomed. He's lounging on the bed in a short open silk robe and a pair of lace panties that hug his hips and leave most of both arse cheeks exposed, a popular outfit in his repertoire sure to please the classiest of clients with the most discerning taste. Both pieces are a matching vibrant cobalt blue that complements his skin tone beautifully. He's wondering what fucking a concept is like, idly massaging his dick now and then to keep it primed, when finally there's a peculiar displacement of air and then a figure in dark robes with a weird spine-trunked bug-eyed head is standing in the middle of the suite. He's taller than Hob and inhumanly rail-thin; the robes plunge deep from the neckline, displaying milk-white skin without a hint of chest hair and clavicles that beg to be nibbled on. He's in profile, angled slightly away, and Hob has the distinct sense that this is a deliberate pose meant to make an impression, to instill awe and possibly fear in him.

So Dream of the Endless has a flair for drama, got it.

"Hello," Hob greets in his best breathless-and-sultry tone, rising from the bed to approach his client. He layers in a suitable amount of awe, pitching his voice toward 'smitten' with a subtle ring of sincerity to support it. "Oh, wow. You must be Dream of the Endless; I'm so delighted to get to meet you! I'll be taking care of you today; you can call me Nick."

The guy, the concept, Dream of the Endless, he goes stock-still as Hob speaks, and it's like the air in the room pauses with him. He turns, slowly, until Hob is face to face with his…oh, possibly that's a mask, then; the bug-eyed lenses are somewhat translucent in the light though Hob still can't see beneath them.

"There has been some mistake." The voice is deep and distorted through the helmet-mask, bone-rattling in an almost-pleasant way and, somehow, somewhat…familiar? "I was meant to be meeting with 'Nick Bottom'." The quotes around the name are audible.

"That's me!" Hob says, raking a hand back through his hair and shaking it to settle around his shoulders attractively, flashing his most charming smile. "At your service, love, whatever you need. I'm here to make sure you have a very good time, and—"

"Hob Gadling."

That draws him up short. He's currently Robyn Gadrin for tax-paying purposes in the outside world, but the Agency wouldn't give out his current identity let alone his true name, so how—

Hob's brain is babbling insistently about the note of familiarity in that voice and he finally lights on why as Dream of the Endless reaches up to remove his helmet.

Hob finds himself staring at the slightly-more-than-human-but-still-very-familiar face of his Stranger, his centennial touchstone, his friend.

Everything about his reality tips a little bit sideways, dominoes crashing one after the other in his brain until all that's left is that awful ringing alarm tone that features in emergency broadcast alerts on American telly.

Between them, the silence stretches awkwardly, until finally Hob breaks it, the first thing that comes to his tongue spilling out while his poor brain is still rebooting.

"Six-hundred some-odd bloody years, and this is how I learn your name?!"

It is five minutes later. Hob is sitting on the side of the plush bed in his short silk robe and lace panties, clutching a bottled water and seriously considering availing himself of the bar in the next room because his emotions are all over the place. His Stranger—Dream of the Endless, apparently—is seated next to him. His eyes are not the blue that Hob is used to, are fully black with actual stars winking in and out of them; it's gorgeous but uncanny. He's currently not looking at Hob, has got the weird bug-spine helmet gripped tightly in both hands. Which are still so pretty, Hob can't help noticing, his fingers longer and more spindly than normal, splayed wide around the curve of the helm, nails painted black. Or maybe not painted, maybe they just are black.

Pretty, regardless.

Not a helpful thought at this juncture.

It's not like he'd thought his Stranger was actually human, obviously, and okay yes the possibility of meeting up with him via this particular career choice had crossed his mind once or twice, might've featured in a private fantasy or two; but also he'd never seriously imagined it because it felt so entirely implausible that his prim and lofty Stranger would ever engage in something so mundane. So casual.

Apparently, Hob was wrong about that.

He's not sure how to feel about it, either.

The smooth inhumanly-pale chest on display in the plunging vee of those artfully-draped robes is also not helping anything.

His Stranger—Dream— moves slightly, glances at him with those starry eyes, flexes those pretty fingers on the helmet. "I will. Arrange. For another. To take your place, Hob, you need not—"

"Now hold on a minute," Hob interrupts, sudden direction presenting itself for his floundering emotions to flow. "What do you mean, 'arrange for another'? What's wrong with me?"

Dream, his name is Dream of the Endless, Dream looks perplexed. "Our. History—"

"Oh yes, our illustrious storied history wherein we have met all of seven times before now and, may I remind you, you took offense to my suggestion that we might be friends until you'd had time to digest it properly, yes."

"Eight."

"Eight?"

"I visited your dream, before undertaking a daunting journey from my realm to another. We shared wine. You gave a most thoughtful toast."

"I. Okay." He remembers that dream, yes; he remembers the wine that followed him out of it, and now with the knowledge that his Stranger is apparently King of all dreams and nightmares suddenly it all makes brand new sense. But he will process that later. "Eight. Still not a factor in my ability to do my job."

Mostly. It is his Stranger, after all, and it's not like he hasn't ever wanted—

"Sex would be. Awkward," Dream insists, and Hob loses it, never mind he'd half-thought the same thing until a second ago; Dream saying it makes him refute the assertion with everything he's got.

"You dare," he says, setting aside his water.

Dream boggles at him, cosmic eyes wide, mouth slightly parted.

"You. DARE. To disdain my professional services just because we know each other?!"

"Hob— "

"No. No, your booking was very clear that you were to have the very best, and that. Is. Me. So you will not be re-booking with another companion on the grounds that our acquaintance makes it 'awkward'; if you mean to partake of the services you've hired you will partake of them with me."

"My sibling."

"What."

"My sibling hired your services. Did they know—" He's half talking to himself and Hob sighs, forcefully pulling the conversation back on track.

"Yes, right; your sibling booked you and here you are. Did you want to get laid today?"

"You need not be so crude about it."

"Forgive me. Of course. Did you come here hoping to have a sensual skillful sexual experience with a stranger intent on your pleasure with no judgments or expectations placed upon you in return?" He makes a valiant effort to rein in his sarcasm. "Because I can still provide that. Minus the bit where we're not strangers."

Dream looks positively miserable, a sodden wet cat of a man in sex-appeal robes hunched on the edge of the decadently-plush bed, and there is certainly an understandable element of embarrassment to the situation but Dream is taking it so seriously. Hob is not surprised, exactly, but christ—he's more than willing to follow through never mind any feelings he may or may not want to admit to, and Dream is the one who'd agreed to the booking in the first place. You'd think he could handle this hiccup with a little more grace.

"It was my intent to. Do, as you say," Dream says at last, and Hob sighs.

"Is that still what you want, then? I promise I'll take good care of you." He's actually really warming up to the idea, not that he was cold to it to begin with. It's his Stranger after all. He's been willing to say yes for centuries. "They really did book you the best, and I would love to show you how well-earned my reputation is—"

"Hob—" Dream sounds pained, gives an artfully-dramatic shake of his head. "My wants are. Manageable. If no one else is available. I cannot simply engage with you so frivolously—"

Hob leaps up from the bed, stalks a frustrated few steps away and whirls back, spreads his arms. "Am I not appealing to you, Dream of the Endless?" He tosses his head, shakes his hair back, gestures at the blue silk and lace that he knows looks absolutely spectacular on him. "Would you like me to change clothes? I have a dozen more ensembles I'd be happy to put on if you'd rather peel me out of one of those. Would the Prince of Stories prefer roleplay? Golden-age pirate, biker bad boy, Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth, cowboy, librarian, Starfleet officer—I'll dress however you like." He's fired up, he's…it feels like anger but it's more like alarm; he is absolutely not about to let a colleague fuck HIS Stranger if Dream's looking to unwind. Not with all the thoughts he's entertained the last couple centuries, not when Dream is looking so entirely miserable about the whole experience. Hob wiggles his bare toes in the plush carpet, forcing a deep breath; he is jealous and possessive and protective all at once and has no idea how to safely navigate this storm to get Dream what he wants without pissing him off.

"Your…clothing becomes you greatly, Hob." He's sneaking a glance as he says it, like he's not allowed to look but can't help it. "Your clothing is not at issue."

"Then what is?" Hob rakes a hand back through his hair, frustration fizzling, careening toward concern. "If you're truly that put off by me, I'll let it go. But you're here, for sex, which you did say you wanted; this is my job and I'm good at it and you clearly need—" Someone to take care of you, he'd nearly said, and while Dream has been giving him so much leeway in this conversation he thinks that might be one straw too much for this particular camel's back.

Nice to know he appreciates Hob's hairy chest and his dick in blue lace, though.

Dream levels him with a look that almost puts him right back to 1889, and Hob has half a second to start panicking before Dream closes his eyes, draws himself up, sets his bloody weird helmet on the bedside table with a soft leathery clunk. When he opens his eyes again, they are resolute, resigned, the eyes of a man headed for the gallows despite the stars winking hopelessly in their depths.

"I do not wish to be intimate with you. When you view it as simply a job. I. Would like—but not. If it is a transaction. If I am merely a client."

Oh. Oh.

Oh shit, really?

Impossible.

Really?

"You want. You want it to mean something?" Hob is embarassed at how small his voice comes out.

Dream closes his eyes, something like shame written all over his beautiful otherworldly-pale face. "I had thought. At our fifth meeting. That perhaps there was the possibility of. Attraction, between us." He opens his night-sky eyes again, meets Hob's resolutely. "Had we not been interrupted…" He shakes his head. "I pondered the idea until next we met, anticipating the possibility of. Seeing, where we might have come to. But you named what was between us friendship, you named me lonely; I perceived your words as mockery and acted accordingly. I spent the next century with a surplus of time to wander my own thoughts. They turned to you, Hob Gadling, with regularity. As I expressed when last we met, I regret leaving our previous meeting so abruptly, so harshly. Your friendship is of great value to me. I am content to let it remain friendship, in the interest of keeping it. But I am unwilling to engage with you, who named me 'friend', as I would a lover when I have yet to fully bury the wish. That you might have been my lover in truth."

Hob is desperately trying to keep from bluescreening again and while he's focused on that, his mouth runs along without him. "You never even gave me a name, but you wanted us to be lovers?"

"I am. Aware, of how foolish my wishes—"

"No, oh no. Dream. Love." He absolutely cannot let him think that. "All you ever had to do was ask."

Dream looks at him, starry eyes full of misery with the faintest spark of hope underneath, glimmering with unshed tears. "I. Could not—"

"That was then. Water under the bridge. What about now."

Dream shivers, his more-than-human face wary and pleading and resigned all at once and the last of the fight drains out of Hob. He approaches gently, until he is directly in front of Dream on the edge of the bed again; he half straddles Dream's lap with one foot still on the floor and a bare knee sunk on the mattress beside him, threads both hands into Dream's hair behind his lovely ears, tips his pale face up.

"Ask me now. Please."

Dream's hand settles above his bent knee, a gentle, tentative touch; his eyelashes flutter, and the sound that leaves him steals Hob's breath. That hand travels softly around to grip the back of Hob's thigh, slides hesitantly higher, and then it's Hob making the helpless noise as Dream's fingertips card beautifully through his leg hair, run up beneath the short robe. Dream's spindly black-nailed hand caresses up over his exposed arse cheek, squeezes, and all the while Dream's beguiling uncanny eyes are fixed on him, wet and wondering, full of blossoming hope.

"Hob Gadling." His voice is hushed, almost reverent. "I should like to have you, as my lover. If you are amenable." His face is tipped up, so close between Hob's hands, and Hob.

Hob's shaking. He's actually trembling, pent up, a little scared; daring, as he leans down and his hair falls around them both, hoping—

He brushes his lips to Dream's.

He kisses his Stranger, his friend, his touchstone.

And Dream of the Endless, who is all of those things, kisses him back.

It's nothing like he might have imagined, and ten times as wonderful, and over before he realizes he's ended it.

"Do you mean it." His voice is breathless, the words spoken directly against Dream's mouth. It's a stupid question, in light of the entire conversation gone before and the hand still on his arse, but he can't help asking. This entire turn of events is just too good to be true.

"Yes."

But true it is, apparently, and Hob's heart soars.

"Then. Dream of the Endless. My Stranger. My friend." He presses soft kisses to those plush pink lips between each moniker, dizzy that he's allowed. "Let me add another title to the list, darling. Take me to bed; the suite is ours 'til tomorrow. Let me learn how you would have me. Let me show you how I would treat you. And let me, at long last, name you mine."

= Started: 8/21/24 Drafted: 8/27/24 Posted: 8/30/24

If you're looking for a spicier take on this concept, @delta-pavonis has you covered: Dossier 54392 - please, give it a read, it's delicious.

(and here, have a post-script-y epilogue-exchange of sorts that did not quite fit:)

= "You chose to name yourself Nick Bottom?"

"What better name for a callboy to the supernatural than the bloke who got unwittingly embroiled in a fae lovers' spat and ultimately survived the entire encounter unscathed? Feels pretty relevant to me. Empowering, a bit?"

"Nick Bottom was less 'empowered' than simply lucky, perhaps."

"Perhaps. I'll not turn my nose up at good luck, either. But a name like Bottom in this business is also too good a pun to pass up, and I figure old Shaxberd would approve."

"I believe he would, indeed."

"The irony being that fully half of my clients want me to top them, heh."

"I do not wish to speak of your clients while you are in bed with me."

"Got better uses for my mouth, have you?"

"Other sounds I would prefer to hear from it, yes."

"Fair enough. Why don't you tell me what you want, Mr. Sandman, and see if I can make your dreams come true."

"Must you be so cliché?"

"You love my clich—mmph—"

"Stop. Talking."

"Yes love."

(Dream will tell him about commissioning A Midsummer Night's Dream at some other time 💖)

= Nick Bottom's lines from A Midsummer Night's Dream that lent themselves to the title: I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was and also The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream

#TJs Fics #Dreamling #Sandman #Dreamling Bingo 2024

98 notes · View notes

incorrectmusicaltheatre · 9 months ago

Text

Nick: Don’t try to confuse me with your use of the word “’twas”! Shakespeare: ‘Twasn’t trying to.

#incorrect quotes #something rotten #nick bottom #william shakespeare #source: brooklyn nine nine #shakespeare that’s not what twas means

40 notes · View notes

allwaswell16 · 14 hours ago

Text

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by ...

- disgruntledkittenface -

[1]

“So,” he says casually, looking from Nick back to Louis, “you and Nick didn’t come back to the bar last night.”

And the sentence just hangs in the air between them, like an accusation. Louis can practically see the effort Harry’s putting in to keep his face neutral, but the intense frog expression creeps its way back in. And suddenly Louis get it.

Harry is jealous.

He wants to laugh. It’s preposterous to think of, being jealous of Nick of all people. Nick who can see Louis’ feelings for Harry written all over his face and in everything he does.

“Yeah, after we went for a smoke, I just felt like going home,” Louis explains, biting back a smile. Knowing he’s not being clear enough, he continues, “Nick just walked with me, stretching those ridiculous legs of his, I guess, but Liam picked him up as soon as we got back to my apartment building.”

Harry is still glowering. It’s ridiculous. It’s so fucking cute. Louis is so fucked.

[2]

“I do! We do,” Harry says, looking at Louis, who smiles warmly at him. “I just always thought I would adopt, but I guess I see the issues here for, like… succession?”

“Yes, my successor has to be a biological relative,” Louis says gently. “Lottie wants no part of it, that’s why she was so eager to donate eggs. And I’m not sure if she’ll have children of her own.”

“It is actually a matter of state,” Hervé adds, not unkindly. “Securing the line of succession secures Monaco’s status as an independent principality. If there is no biological heir, upon the prince’s passing then the state would be absorbed by France.”

“Oh, fuck,” Nick mutters, summing up how Harry feels. Well, he wasn’t wrong when he tried to tell Harry what a big fucking deal all of this would be.

[3]

“Sorry to bother,” he says lowly, dripping sarcasm. “But would you mind shutting the fuck up? You’re ruining the show for the rest of us with your passive-aggressive bullshit.”

Harry automatically twists around to see the couple’s response; it looks like husband is gearing up for a retort, but there are quiet murmurs of agreement from the people around them, and the man on his seatmate’s other side even claps him on the back in thanks. Chagrined, the couple slump down in their seats, their lips unhappily sealed.

Harry turns to the man next to him, who’s already looking at him from under the smudge of long, dark lashes that frame his blue eyes. A slow grin overtakes Harry’s face as he meets the man’s steady gaze. For once his words don’t fail him, and he leans in just close enough so the man will be able to hear him as he whispers “thank you.”

[4]

“Is that another new tattoo, Z?” she asks, reaching out and gently turning Zayn’s arm to get a better look. “Oh, yin yang, right?”

Louis immediately squeezes Harry’s thigh, turning to her with wide eyes, but Harry’s too busy fishing for a thin slice of cucumber at the bottom of her glass to register what’s happening. Zayn is still holding her arm out so Liam can see the tattoo when she glances up and Louis pointedly looks from her to the tattoo and back again. Harry’s confused face is adorable, she looks like a disgruntled kitten trying to surmise what Louis is attempting to silently communicate. It takes a minute, but understanding finally dawns in her eyes and she claps her large hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

��What?” Zayn asks, throwing a dirty look at them.

“Nothing,” Louis manages in a strangled voice. “Nothing! Great tattoo. Harry? Shall we?”

- Answers Below -

[1] you came into my life

They stand around talking for a minute and then Jonathan starts to ramble, “Has there ever been, like, an unrequited gay love story in here? Like a Brokeback Mountain moment where, like, someone just fell in love and they didn’t mean to?”

Louis feels bile rise in his throat as Jonathan’s eyes sparkle, pleading for a yes. He manages to look around and see thoughtful looks on his coworkers’ faces before their heads shake no.

“Not here,” Liam says finally.

When the Queer Eye cast and crew sweep into Louis’ small town and fire station to make over his best friend and coworker Liam, Louis’ carefully constructed walls start to fall down and he has to face his fears – and the only guy he’s ever been able to see a future with.

[2] Darling, so it goes

Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance. He doesn’t think they’ll ever see each other again, but after striking up a correspondence, it turns out they have more in common than he thought. Then they start to fall for each other. Louis is different from anyone Harry has dated before and their relationship moves fast as Harry realizes he’s ready for a change. Soon Harry finds himself adapting to an entirely new life, in a country where he doesn’t know the rules, the customs, even the language. Harry is used to people underestimating him, and he’s more determined than ever to prove them wrong.

He just needs Louis to meet him halfway.

Grace Kelly AU.

[3] just one look (and i fell so hard)

Louis takes a small step back, breaking the moment first. “Well, I should–”

“Do you want to come up?”

The words are out of Harry’s mouth before he’d even planned them, and he bites his lip.

“Oh, thank god,” Louis laughs, stepping back into Harry’s space. “I wasn’t, um…”

“Wasn’t ready to let go of you yet,” Harry finishes quietly, glancing up at Louis.

“Yeah,” Louis nods, reaching up and twirling one of Harry’s curls in his fingers. “Yeah, exactly.”

Harry has wanted to go to the Shubert Theatre ever since he moved to New York and lucked into a rent-controlled apartment just outside of the Theatre District. When he finally gets his chance, he hopes the night can meet his sky-high expectations. But the last thing he could have expected was the man seated next to him.

[4] i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine

Louis fell apart when her ex broke up with her and moved across the country. Just as she’s starting to move on, Zayn comes back to town for their mutual friends’ wedding – with a new girlfriend as her plus one.

Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. Their arrangement makes Louis feel pathetic and embarrassed, but it’s only going to last a few weeks. She just has to get through the wedding – what could happen?

#happy birthday Maggie!#ficrec #authorrec #1dsquad #1dficlibrary #disgruntledkittenface

70 notes · View notes

matty-bear · 6 months ago

Note

I was the one who requested A Trip Down Memory Lane. I absolutely love it. If you were to make another sister reader story, you should do a part 2 of the triplets raiding her house. I think that would be an awesome fic

Ps. Thank you so much for writing my request. Love the fics

The “House Raid”

type: request ! read part one here !

pairing: sturniolo x little sister

warnings: sfw, fluffy, lighthearted sibling banter

summary: the triplets finally crash over at your place ! who knew the chaotic yet fun hangout would turn into a sleepover ? (the boys knew, you didn’t)

notes: omg azul finally posting?? so glad to be getting back on my writing grind :3 apologies in advance for how long this is i might’ve gone a lil overboard 😭 anywho, happy reading and enjoy! <3

WC: 4.9K

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

“Loki!” You stumble to a quick halt when your Bombay cat slips underneath the sofa, the clattering of his claws slowly coming to a stop. An exasperated sigh escapes you as you get down on your knees and lower your head so you can peek underneath the furniture. “Loki~” You call out softly, “Come here, baby.”

As you begin to tap your pointer finger on the floorboards, the sound of claws clattering on the floor sounds from behind you. You quickly shift your focus from Loki camping under the sofa to your snowshoe cat who’s calmly making his way over to you. “Hey, Clyde.” You greet with a smile. The cat meows softly at your greeting and takes a seat where your head is lying on the floor. “Your brother is under the sofa.”

Clyde meows again, this time a little longer, before he stretches his front legs, his tail sticking straight up as he does so. You eye him for a moment before turning your head to look back under the sofa. “Loki, come on. Matt’s gonna be here in a few minutes and he’s gonna want to meet all of you.”

Nick texted you yesterday that they would be coming over to quote on quote, “raid your house” today. Ever since you received the message, you took it upon yourself to tidy up your place and make it look as nice as possible. The boy said they should be over by five o’clock if Chris wouldn’t demand a pit stop, which seemed unreasonable for Nick considering that they didn’t live that far from you. In fact, the drive from your place to theirs was only 30-minutes, maybe a little longer depending on traffic and such.

Now, you didn’t have a very large place since it was just you and your cats living there so you didn’t have much to clean. However, since you have a cat that constantly wants to play and have you running around the house, the cleaning took a lot longer than expected. You were grateful that your other two other cats were relatively on the calmer side so you didn’t have to worry about constantly keeping an eye out for them. However, when it came to Loki, it seemed like you were handling a toddler at times.

When a soft meow sounds from the darkness of the underside of the sofa, you groan and roll into your back. Your eyes flicker up to Clyde who’s intently looking down at you, his tail slowly waving behind him. “Where's Bonnie? In the playroom?” You ask.

The snowshoe cat meows and looks over at the room across the one you guys are currently in. Your eyes follow the cat’s gaze and you squint your eyes to take a peek in the room through the small space made between the door and the doorframe.

When your eyes manage to catch a quick glimpse of a white tail snake around the bottom of the cat tower, you sigh softly and rest your head back down on the cold wooden floorboards. You mindlessly stuff your hand in the pocket of your sweatpants to grab your phone. Once the device is pulled out of your pants and you bring it up to your face, you turn it on. The time 4:55 PM immediately greets you in thin red letters.

Your brothers should be here in five minutes.

“Loki, I'm not gonna move or reach under the sofa to get you.” You say, turning your head to take a quick glance under the sofa. When a mew runs through your ears, you sigh and put your phone back in your pocket before boosting yourself up into a standing position. “Come out when you want to, I suppose.”

As you make your way to the kitchen, Clyde follows close behind you in a small, joyous trot. When you stop in front of the fridge and pull one of the doors open, the cat leaps up onto the marble countertop next to the appliance. “You think this will be enough sodas, Clyde?” You turn your head to look over at the snowshoe cat who’s licking his arm.

The cat quickly halts his actions and looks over at you, his eyes shifting over to your shoulder. When you give the cat a small nod, he leaps onto your shoulder and gets himself situated before bending down slightly to peer into the fridge which is half full of Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, and Root Beers. Clyde meows softly and paws the side of your face gently.

You nod your head again and shut the door of the fridge with a soft thud before turning around on your heels and scanning the house from the spot you're standing. “Is your litter box clean?” You ask, turning your head slightly to look over at Clyde who’s now comfortably lying on your shoulder. The cat meows softly with a nod of the head. “Alright, I'm trusting you.”

Just as you go to return back to the living room, the muffled sound of car doors shutting runs through your ears, followed by faint chatter. In the blink of an eye, Clyde jumps off your shoulder and sprints to the door. Bonnie, your ragdoll kitten, also makes her first appearance of the day as she runs out of the playroom to go to the door.

She takes a seat next to Clyde and intently looks up at the door, her tail slowly waving behind her in anticipation. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight and make your way over to the front door as well to unlock it. The moment you twist the last lock, muffled knocking comes from the other side of the door.

“FBI open up!” You hear someone exclaim. this kid.

You open the door with a small shake of the head, your eyes immediately landing on your brothers who are standing on your porch with wide smiles.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Chris.” You say with a soft chuckle.

“You could tell that was me?” Chris asks, a single finger pointing at his chest.

“Yeah.” You giggle softly when a small pout appears on Chris’ lips. You tear your focus away from the brunette to look over at Nick and Matt who are looking behind you with slightly widened eyes. “What?”

You quickly look behind you to try to find what the two are staring at, however, when your eyes land on Bonnie and Clyde who are now standing and gazing up at the two brunettes in front of them, you smile softly. “Here, you guys come inside and I'll introduce them to you.”

With a small hand wave, the three boys make their way inside your house. As Chris and Nick take a quick glance around the place, Matt slowly approaches Bonnie and Clyde who are still standing behind you. When the two cats stop backing up, he crouches down in front of them and sticks his hand out to allow the two to smell him.

“Oh my God, I love how simplistic your place is, it’s so cute.” Nick gushes, a small smile overtaking his lips.

“Thank you!” You exclaim with a wide smile. “I’d give you guys the house tour right now but I think someone would rather play with my cats.”

You and the two boys in front of you look down at Matt who is playful with Bonnie and Clyde. A wide smile is plastered on his lips and he giggles when Clyde nuzzles his head into his side. When Chris clears his throat, the male quickly picks his head up and meets eyes with the three of you. “I think they like me,” Matt says softly, shooting you guys a smile before diverting his focus back to the two cats who are now attempting to climb him.

~~~

“This is my room.” You say as you swing open the door to your bedroom.

“Oh my God,” Chris mumbles, his jaw dropping in awe as he steps inside your cozy lit room.

“You do have the plushies I got you!” Nick exclaims as he quickly makes his way to the small stack of plushies you have atop your bed. A wide smile overtakes the brunette’s features as his eyes shift over to the two larger Hello Kitty plushies that sit next to your nightstand. He places a gentle hand on top of one of the plushie's heads, his thumb gently caressing over its fur which is still soft as though it was bought yesterday.

“I told you I still have them.” You smile as you make your way over to the male.

“You’re a music geek aren’t you?” Chris asks. You quickly turn around to face the older boy to see him admiring your wall and shelves full of vinyls and CDs, his free hand mindlessly fidgeting with the dials on your record player.

“I literally can’t live without it.” You say with a small chuckle. “You can look through what I have by the way. Just be careful if you want to play one.”

Chris rubs his hands together and jumps on his heels a few times out of pure excitement. You can’t help but laugh softly as he begins to drag a single finger across your wide selection of vinyls. After a moment, you shift your attention over to Matt who’s admiring your small art studio set up in the corner of the room.

A small baby blue paintbrush is being twirled between his fingers as he gazes at your easel which has a few blotches of dried paint on it. You quietly make your way over to the male and when you’re close enough, he notices your presence and turns his head to look at you.

“This is so cool,” Matt mumbles with a small smile.

“Thank you.” You smile.

“Is this a new project you’re working on?” At the sight of the brunette pointing at the canvas resting on the easel, you gently nod your head.

“I’m just in the sketching stage right now.”

“Really? It looks blank.”

“I don’t like sketching too hard. Sometimes I'm not able to get all the pencil markings off.” Matt gently nods his head, the hand twirling the paintbrush between his fingers not coming to a stop. “You wanna paint something? I have some extra canvases.”

“Really?” You chuckle softly at the sight of Matt’s eyes lighting up, his mouth shaping into a small oval.

“Yeah! It can be a little activity for the four of us.”

“I’d love that. Should we ask Nick and Chris if they'd be down to do it?”

After you nod your head, you turn around to the two mentioned males who are still in their previous positions. “Nick, Chris.” You call. The two quickly stop what they’re doing and look over at you. “You guys wanna paint something?”

“Fuck yeah, are you kidding?” Chris replies as he gently returns a vinyl back to its spot on the shelf.

“I’m so down,” Nick adds, with a wide smile.

“Alright, where do you guys wanna do it?” You ask as you make your way over to your drawers full of paint.

“Can we do it outside?” Matt asks, a single hand extending out in front of him. You take a quick glance over to the boy and nod your head before setting a few bottles of paint in his open palm. At the sight of the brunette assisting you with gathering the supplies. Nick and Chris quickly walk over and start helping you as well.

~~~

It didn’t take very long for the four of you to find yourselves outside, paint brushes, bottles, and canvases spread out on the bright green grass in your backyard.

“Do you guys know what you want to paint?” You ask as you kneel down on the grass, your right hand firmly grasping four paint pallets.

“I wanna paint a deer!” Chris exclaims.

“I wanna try to do a cabin or a forest,” Matt says as he begins to fiddle with a bottle of green paint.

“Nick?” You ask, leaning forward to get a better look at the older boy who’s a little ways from you.

“If I'm being honest I have no idea what I wanna paint. I think I'm just gonna wing it.” Nick admits as he brings a hand up to nervously rub his nape.

“That’s fine! Don’t let yourself feel restricted to do anything.” You say with a small reassuring smile. “Before we start, I think you guys might want one of these.”

You grab a single paint pallet from the stack you’re holding for yourself before handing the rest of them to Matt. After the male grabs one, he hands the last two to Chris. Once Nick gets his pallet, you begin to instruct the boys on what to do with the paint. After they give you rapid head nods to show that they understand everything you said, the four of you begin to gather the needed paint for y’all’s pieces.

“You guys don’t mind if I play some music right?” You ask as you reach for your phone which is discarded on the grass next to you.

“We don’t mind,” Chris replies as he flicks open a bottle of light brown paint, flinching harshly when some specks of paint splatter on his face.

You nod to yourself and take a moment to scroll through your playlists, your eyes racking through the long lists of songs to try to find something you all would like. After finding a playlist that consists of a mixture of your guys’ favorite songs, you hit shuffle and set your phone back down on the grass next to you. As you pick up your number two pencil, you take a glance over at the three boys next to you, the sight of their focused and determined expressions bringing a large smile to your face.

God this is gonna be so much fun.

-three hours later-

The sun has finally set in the sky after a while of the four of you painting. Soft pinks, oranges, and yellows have replaced the sky’s once light blue color. Upon noticing the boy’s lack of energy and the subtle yawns racking through their body, you decided to call it a night and suggest the four of you head back inside.

Chris was a little worried about leaving the paint and canvases outside but you reassured him that it would be fine. After dragging the boys back inside the sweet aroma of your house, you sigh heavily and immediately make a beeline to the kitchen.

“You guys hungry? I can order something. I don’t feel like cooking anything tonight and I don't think you guys cooking would be the best idea.” You ask as you lean against your island and dig your phone out of your pocket.

“Okay, rude,” Nick mumbles with a soft huff. “What do you guys feel like eating?”

“Can we get pizza please?” Chris asks, a heavy exhale escaping his lips as he plops down on the sofa.

“Yeah, of course. The usual?”

“Please.” You nod your head and begin scrolling through Uber Eats, your eyes scanning through the countless pizza places nearby in search of one that has a low delivery price. As you finally settle on one, the sound of Matt gasping softly causes you to pick your head up abruptly. Immediately, your eyes land on the male who’s sitting on the floor and playing with Loki.

“Loki!” You exclaim, your sudden loudness startling all three boys and causing them to look over at you. “So you decided to completely ignore me all day and only come out when Matt’s here? I see how it is.”

“Wait, where was he?” Nick asks, extending a single hand out to the black cat a few steps in front of him.

“Under the sofa.” You mumble in response. “He’s been driving me to the brink of insanity since like 5 AM.”

“Loki, don't be so mean to your mother.” Matt scolds the cat softly. Loki stares at the brunette and seemingly glares at the boy before jumping on him. The boy lets out a small yell as he falls back onto the floorboards with a hollow thud.

“Loki! No jumping on people!” You exclaim.

“He’s fine, y/n,” Matt says gently. You shake your head in slight irritation before you return your focus to ordering dinner. As you do so, Matt silently watches as Loki crawls on his chest and drags his snout against the hot pink bear shirt he’s wearing. After a moment the cat meows softly and lays down on the brunette’s chest, his tail gently swaying behind him. “Can I touch you?” Matt asks, a single hand over the cat’s backside.

When Loki mews softly in response, the boy gently sets his hand on the cat’s back, his fingers immediately beginning to scratch behind his ears. Almost immediately, Loki begins to pur, his eyes shutting and his body turning slightly so he can lean into Matt’s palm. The male can’t help but chuckle softly at the feline's action, a wide, excited smile decorating his features as he silently continues his actions.

-30 minutes later-

“Loki!” Matt exclaims, his speech muffled due to the pizza in his mouth. The male quickly pulls the slice away from his mouth when the mentioned cat leaps up to his chest and tries to take a nip at the food.

“Loki, what have I told you about bothering people when they’re eating?” You ask, your eyes narrowing as you stare down at the cat in front of you. Loki quickly gets off Matt and turns around to look at you, his green eyes piercing into yours for a few seconds before he meows and walks off to a different room.

“He’s a stubborn one isn’t he?” Chris asks as he raises the cup full of Pepsi to his mouth.

“Very.” You grumble. with a soft huff, you lift yourself from the floor and bend down to pick up your empty plate. “Are you guys done?”

“Yeah. Shit was so good, thanks y/n.” Nick replies, his eyes slightly squinting as he sends you a smile.

“Of course. Don’t need you guys to starve.” You make your way over to all three boys and take their empty plates from them, your generous action earning small ‘thank you’s. You simply nod your head in response and make your way over to your kitchen to throw the plates away. After cleaning your hands off with a paper towel, a thought pops into your head.

“Hey guys?” You ask as you make your way back into the living room.

“What’s up?” Chris asks, his head lifting from the headrest of the sofa.

“Do you guys wanna spend the night? I have the extra room and some inflatable beds if y'all want to.”

At the sound of Nick giggling softly, your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you look over at him. When you see the boy cover his mouth in an attempt to muffle his laughter, you send him a look of suspicion. “Why are you laughing?”

“We were planning on spending the day whether you asked us or not. We have our shit in the car.” Nick replies with a stifled giggle.

“And what would happen if I never asked or said no?”

“We’d do it anyway,” Matt replies with a small shrug. “We’d also use force or threaten you to let us stay the night.”

“Threaten me?” You raise a single eyebrow at the three as they look at you rather innocently.

“Yeah,” Chris replies with a tight-lipped smile. You exhale through your nose and shake your head before sitting on the floor next to Matt.

“You know there’s plenty of couch space, right?” Nick asks, his tone laced with judgment as he pats the empty spot next to him.

“I know. I just wanna do this.” You reply simply. Without a word more, you throw yourself against Matt. With a small yelp from the brunette, the two of you plop down on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” Matt asks, his head rising off the floor to look down at you.

“Laying on you?” You sas. As you maneuver yourself atop the brunette, Matt lets out a sigh of defeat and rests his head back down on the floor.

“Y/N I’m tired, get off.” You firmly shake your head in response and dig in your pants pocket for your phone. After fishing the device out and setting it on Matt’s chest in front of your face, the boy huffs softly.

“Wait, are we doing a dog pile?” Chris asks, excitement laced in his tone as he hurriedly sets his empty cup on the nearby table.

“No, we’re not. Don’t even-“ Matt doesn’t have the chance to finish his sentence before Chris runs over to the two of you and plops down on top of your back. At the added weight, Matt groans and whines out a slew of complaints.

“Wait, I wanna join,” Nick says, setting his phone down on the couch cushion and getting up off the sofa. Matt opens his mouth to yell something at the older but another groan escaping his lips prevents him from doing so as Nick throws himself on top of Chris’s back..

“Holy shit, y’all are heavy as hell.” You say, your voice strained as you lay limply against Matt.

“I don’t wanna hear you complaining. You two started the pile.” Chris retorts with a soft huff.

“We didn’t start the pile!” Matt whines, a single arm draping over his eyes.

“Beg to differ but whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Matt opens his mouth to say a snarky remark however Nick slipping off Chris and jumping back on top of him causes both him and you to groan loudly.

“NICK!” Matt yells.

“Sorry, slipped off.”

~~~~

“So did you guys sort out the sleeping arrangements or…” You start, your voice trailing off slightly. You lower your arms which are holding up three blankets against your chest, your eyes immediately landing on your three brothers who are all sitting on the sofa.

Nick quickly lifts his head to meet your gaze before replying, “I’m getting the bed, Chris will sleep in the room with me on the air mattress, and Matt will sleep on the sofa.”

“Alright sounds good.” You gently nod your head before approaching the three and handing them each a blanket. “I don't know if you guys have a preference in blankets so y'all can switch if you’d like.”

“These are good, thanks, kid,” Matt says with a small smile.

“Of course.” You return the boy's smile with one of your own before excusing yourself to go to the kitchen. “Well, I'm gonna head to my room and keep working on the project I'm doing. If you guys need anything, let me know.”

“Will do. Night y/n!” Chris exclaims, the two males next to him repeating after him not long after.

“Night boys.” After grabbing a water bottle from the top shelf, you shut the fridge and head to your bedroom. The moment you walk up to your easel, the faint sound of claws clattering against the floor sounds from behind you. You quickly whip your head around and smile softly as Bonnie slowly makes her way over to you.

“Hi, baby.” You greet the feline gently. Bonnie lifts her head to look at you and meows faintly before stopping next to your feet. You can’t help but chuckle softly at the female before you take a seat in front of your easel, Bonnie immediately leaping up onto your lap moments after.

As you begin to gently pet the feline with one hand, the other gets to work on grabbing your paintbrush and making sure you have all the needed paints on your nearby pallet. When everything is set, you slip your headphones on and hit shuffle on a random playlist before getting to work on finishing the base layer on the canvas.

~~~

You didn't realize how immensely focused you were on gently gliding your paintbrush over your canvas until you felt someone tap your shoulder. You immediately jump at the sudden touch and quickly whip around in your seat, your eyes landing on Chris whose face is painted with a nervous expression.

“What's wrong, Chris?” You ask the male, your voice not going past a faint whisper as you slide your headphones off your head and set them around your neck.

A few beats of silence pass by as you continue to cautiously eye the boy in front of you. After a few more moments of Chris not verbally responding and keeping his gaze glued to the floor, your brain begins to grind with reasons as to why the boy wanted your attention. As a single cause sits on the top of your head, you force your lips together and direct your attention from Chris to your phone which is discarded on the table in front of you.

You gently tap the turned-off device with your pinkie, the screen lighting up seconds later. Immediately, the time 4:37 AM greets you on your lock screen, and your heart drops at the sight of it. You quickly turn your head back around to look at Chris, only to see that the boy hasn’t moved from his previous position.

“Did you have a nightmare? You’re not usually up this late unless something wakes you up,” You ask the male, your head slightly tilting to the side.

You watch as Chris’ eyes shift up to meet yours. After a moment, the male slowly nods his head and brings a hand up to rub his nape. “I tried to wake up Nick to ask if I could sleep with him but his ass didn’t wanna wake up. I would ask Matt but the sofa is too small for the both of us to lay comfortably.”

“Do you wanna sleep with me then? I have plenty of room. Just letting you know now, you might wake up to one of the cats sleeping on or near you.”

“I'm perfectly fine with that. I just really need to sleep next to someone.”

“Well, you can go and get yourself comfortable. I'll be there in a minute. I just need to put my stuff up.” Chris gives you a small nod and turns on his heels before making his way to your bed.

You take a moment to watch the boy slowly crawl on the side that doesn’t hold your plushies before you focus on putting your things away. When your short task is complete, you gently scoop Bonnie, who’s fallen asleep in your lap, up in your arms. You slowly get up from your seat and nudge it closer to the easel with your foot before walking over to the small cat bed next to your nightstand. After slowly crouching down and laying the sleeping feline down on the soft cushion, you stand up and shuffle over to your bed.

As you reach over to grab a few plushies from the pile on the empty side, you take a glance over at Chris who’s silently scrolling through his phone. After setting the plushies in your arms down on the pile with the rest of them, you finally slip under the covers. With a soft sigh, you turn your head a little to look over at the male next to you.

“You gonna go to sleep or what? it’s nearly 5 AM and I know your ass is gonna be a little prick if you don’t get your hours in,” You ask with a soft huff.

Chris immediately turns his head at your statement, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare. “I was waiting for you, dickwad.” The brunette grumbles.

“Well I’m here now so go mimis.”

“Mimis? The fuck is mimis?” You roll your eyes and roll onto your side at the sight of Chris sending you a judgmental look.

“I say that instead of sleep sometimes, get off my ass, kid. Now go to sleep.”

You finally hear Chris huff behind you, followed by the duvet shuffling as the male presumably tries to get comfortable. “Weird ass.” The boy mumbles under his breath.

You roll your eyes once more and kick the older male’s calf, drawing a rather overly dramatic exclamation and flinch from the boy.

“You dick! Don’t fucking kick me!” Chris exclaims, a look of hurt flashing over his features as he turns his head to look over at you.

“Don’t call me weird.” You grumble a response. “Now shut it and go to sleep before I kick you off the bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Chris… I swear to God.”

“Sorry, sorry, going mimis.”

You mumble something faintly under your breath before kicking Chris’ leg again, drawing yet another dramatic shout from him.

“OW!” The brunette yells. You take a peek over your shoulder to see the older male sitting up, a look of hurt clear on his face.

“You’re mocking me, asshole.” You say with a soft chuckle.

“No, I'm not!”

“You said mimis, Chris. You’re literally mocking me.”

“Okay but in my defense, that’s such a childish thing to say.”

The moment you roll onto your back and fully turn your head to look at Chris with a warning glare, the male immediately clamps his mouth shut. Wordlessly, the older quickly lays back down and pulls the blanket up to his chin, not daring to mutter a single word more to you.

“Goodnight Chris.” You state, struggling to bite back the giggle threatening to escape your lips as you roll back onto your side.

A few beats of silence passed by before Chris mumbled a small “night kid” back to you.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

@freshloveforthefit @thenickgirl @patscorner @frankdelreyy @sturndann @kileybankzz @robins-scoop @miloisdone1 @rootbeerworshiper @rubyperic-09 @teenagetrash00 @maryx2xx @junniiieee07

click here if you’d like to be added to the list !

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt x reader #nick x reader #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #request

121 notes · View notes