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sturnioz · 7 months ago

Note

shy!reader has been pretty much m.i.a all week, and fratboy!chris does not care. no seriously, he doesn’t care.

he’s just kept his eyes peeled every night through crowds of sweaty bodies jammed into his living room, and even through the sluggish crowds of tired students in college hallways, yet he couldn’t find you.

it was on the 6th night when chris was seriously considering showing up at your place — for no reason just he needed your lit notes, of course —when he received a text from nick.

nick, the eldest — and no doubt more mature —triplet. chris’ eyebrows furrowed at the notification, why was nick texting him at 10:30pm on a weeknight? kid cares way too much about being on time for class in the mornings

—

Nick: *image attached* isn’t this one of your girls?

—

the somewhat blurry picture was taken from a distance in the old, dusty library on campus. you sat in a corner, a mess of notes, books and your laptop sprawled on the desk in front of you. you looked weak, your hair a mess, bags prominent under your eyes.

before chris could even react, his phone buzzed again

—

i’m not a total creeper, i’ve just noticed her here every night this week and i’m pretty sure she has not changed her sweatshirt once

or pretty much left this library.

i seriously hope this is actually her and not a complete stranger

you know what, i’m talking to her. don’t change my mind.

—

chris groaned, the realisation of finals week dawning on him. sometimes chris forgets how much college actually means to you, and how ridiculously sick it makes you.

he did not have time for this, he had customers to please, yet - he didn’t hesitate. he’s huffing and complaining pretty much the whole time, but he’s quick to make his way over to the library he’s really not too familiar with, saving you from the shackles that is a conversation with a redbull fueled nick sturniolo.

you can take it from here, love u pooks mwah

- 🫧

gonna take it from here in shy!readers pov cos i want nick and shy!reader to have some one on one time before fratboy!chris grumpily comes over !!

your back aches with a constant throb, your eyes feel gritty and sore, and a dull headache pulses at your temples, making it difficult for you to concentrate. hunched over in the dimly lit corner of the library, you've spent countless of hours — days — buried in textbooks, scribbles notes and laptop screens, desperately trying to absorb everything before your exams.

the week has been relentless, leaving you physically and emotionally drained, as if the weight of your studies is pressing down on you.

you haven't seen chris in almost a week. the silence has been deafening — no texts lighting up your phone, no calls breaking the quiet, and no facetime calls at late hours. truth be told, you did put your phone on do not disturb, silencing any incoming calls to shield yourself from distractions. it's not that you intended to cut off all communication completely; you simply needed space.

you needed to be alone, to gather your thoughts, and to focus on your studies, to not be distracted by his intense social life.

however, you are distracted when someone slams a stack of textbooks onto the table opposite you, the sound echoing in the quiet space. startled, you lift your tired gaze, and your heart thumps when you recognise a familiar that slumps into the seat across from you.

he runs a hand through his tousled mullet, adjusting the thin-framed glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose before flashing you a friendly grin.

you know who he is. you've seen him in countless pictures and instagram posts with chris and matt. yet, despite your familiarity with his image, you've never met him in person — you never even spoke a word to each other, and you find yourself sliding further down in your seat, a wave of awkwardness and shyness washing over you.

"hello—fuck!" nick curses as he sets his can of red bull down on the wooden table, only for it to topple over and spill a little. flustered and annoyed, he mutters under his breath, hastily dabbing at the tiny droplets on the table with the sleeve of his sweater. his eyes finally meet yours again, and he offers another grin. "hello."

"hi.." you manage to respond, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i've noticed that you're, like, constantly glued to this fucking seat, like you haven't moved the entire week—" nick pauses mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he realises how awful his wording sounds. he quickly holds up his hand, a look of urgency in his expression. "i'm not a creep. i wasn't staring at you. i know you—i think i know you—no, i do know you. you're, like, kinda with my brother. chris. that's you, right? god, tell me that's you, 'cos i'm gonna end up losing my mind—"

"yeah," you cut off his intense rambling, which is probably fuelled by the red bull he keeps fidgeting with. "that... that's me, yeah."

nick blinks at you in silence for a moment before he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and he bluntly says. "wow, you really are quiet," you become a little flustered at that, tearing your gaze away from him until he asks incredulously. "the fuck are you doing with chris of all people?"

a subtle smile pulls at your lips at that, especially when you glance back at his face and see the shock etched across it. honestly, you don't even know what you're doing with chris, but it wouldn't exactly be appropriate to go into the details with his brother. so, you simply shrug your shoulders in response.

nick suddenly deadpans. "blink twice if you need my help."

now that makes you laugh — a genuine, unexpected sound that splutters past your lips. you quickly cover your mouth, eyes widening as the sound echoes through the library and you glance around, paranoid that someone might shoot you the dirtiest look and demand you to shut up or leave.

but nick waves it off dismissively when he notices your worries, "they can go fuck themselves."

you remain silent for a moment, considering his words, before stating, "we... are in a library."

"then they can go fuck themselves quietly."

another genuine, but quieter, laugh escapes you. you find yourself relaxing a bit more with him, opening up and feeling more comfortable as nick takes charge of the conversation; showing genuine interest in your major, your studies, and your hobbies.

you do the same, getting to know him better, and even getting a little excited when you realise how many similarities you share. the more you chat, the more your cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much. the tiredness that had once taken over you begins to fade away, replaced by a lightness you haven't felt in days, and your books and notes sit forgotten on the table.

however, your head perks up in surprise when you spot chris walking through the double doors. he's wearing a beanie on top of his head with tuffs of curly hair peeking out, a hoodie that swallows his frame, and his hands are shoved deep in the pockets of his sweatpants.

he glances around the library, his eyes finally zeroing in on you and nick at the far end of the room. you can't quite read his expression — his face stoic as he makes his way over.

he drops down in the chair beside you, and nick immediately pulls a face, shooting you a look that makes you giggle again, and chris huffs at the sound, clearly unimpressed.

"stop botherin' her," chris mutters, his foot hooking comfortably beneath your chair as he settles in.

"m'not."

chris rolls his eyes, ignoring nick's response as he turns his attention to you. he takes you in for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing as he says, "tell him he's botherin' you, kid."

you can't help but smile gently. "he's not bothering me. he's been fun.. i like his company."

"told you," nick muses across from across the table. chris snaps his head towards nick, shooting him a glare as nick lifts the can of red bull to his mouth, a smirk spreading across his lips as he adds, "bitch."

#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#ᯓ꒰🫧anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris #☆ shy!reader #☆ bsf!nick #꒰ fratboy!chris x shy!reader prompt ꒱#꒰ bsf!nick x shy!reader prompt ꒱

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bamsblooming · 28 days ago

Text

Cupid’s Chokehold ⊹ ࣪ ˖ C.S

After, a long, tiresome day. All Chris wants to do is cling onto you, you could even say that cupid has him in a chokehold. Once he wants something, he doesn’t stop until he’s content. So when he gets home, takes off his coat and throws his bag on the floor, all he wants is you to be back into his arms once more for sure.

CONTAINS જ⁀➴ fluff! clingy!chris 🫦 pet names : babe, ma, baby // WORD COUNT : 1593 // A/N = thank you soso much anon for requesting this!!! AND WTF?! THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!

7:30pm

You were already all settled on the couch, a cushy blanket draped over your legs. The day had dragged on, draining in a way that settled into your bones. Being all relaxed like this, felt like a reward. Like, slipping into something welcoming after hours of enduring the outside world.

The cushions moulded into your body as they gave into your weight, warm and inviting. The plush blanket was settled over you just right, not too heavy, nor light. Just enough to cause you to sink further into the haven of your couch.

In the background, the mellow hum of the TV ricocheted off the walls, some show playing, arguably more for comfort than actual attention. It was perfect, serene. Undisturbed.

7:50pm

But being in a relationship with Chris? The peacefulness didn’t last long. You suddenly hear the front door swing open. Before you even had the chance to look up, there’s the telltale thud of his bag hitting the floor, followed by the echoed rustling of fabric as he shrugs his coat off and tosses it aside to be a future problem, even the heavy sigh that escaped him made it clear that his day was just as long and draining. He didn’t care where anything landed. Why? Well, his only mission right now is you.

Your gaze drifts up, and thats when you see him — his eyes heavy, shoulders slumped, and exhaustion written all over his poor face. A word didn’t even slip out of your mouth before he’s on you. Throwing himself on the couch like it was life or death to him. Immediately, his arms wrapped around you and his head finds your shoulder as if it was second nature.

“Babe, I had the longest day,” he sighs dramatically, his voice a little low, but filled with that tacit need for comfort as he squeezes you tighter. “I’m so glad to be home, I missed you sooo much.” He murmurs, the weight of his body pressing into yours as he snuggles against you, inhaling the consolation of your essence. His legs entangle with yours, making sure there’s not an inch of space left between you two, as if he’s been affection-deprived.

You attempt to shift, maybe grab the remote, but he whines. Actually whines. Nuzzling into your side like he’s found the perfect spot.

“No, no, no. Don’t move yet. Just, let me stay like this for a sec.”

A ‘sec’ turns into 15 minutes, then 35, then 40. His weight presses into you as his body relaxes completely, yet his grip was tight enough as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. He was settled against you like he never wanted to move again.

And just like that, you’re trapped under the weight of your clingy, lovesick boyfriend. Because after a dreadful, exhausted day, all he wanted was to be wrapped up in your embrace. It was amusing, really, he was breathing into you like he’s been away for weeks instead of hours. Yet, you stroked his hair affectionately, knowing he needed it. There was no turning back. You were seriously stuck, he was serious about staying like this. serious.

8:30pm

Finally, you manage to wiggle free by bribing him with the pledge of a home-cooked meal. But patently. that doesn't mean that he's letting you go. Nope. Never. Now, he's pursuing behind you like a lost puppy.

As you move around the kitchen adeptly, he still finds a way to keep affixed to you — the moment he reaches you, his arms slip and encircled around you, firmly pulling your back flush against his chest. The weight of the day seemed to seep away as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady against your neck, watching you intently as you stirred the existing mixture on the stove.

"You smell nice," he murmurs against your neck, voice thick with exhaustion.

"Thank you, my love." You mutter, trying to grab something from the fridge, he shadowed along, huddling way too close, fingers absentmindedly brushing against your waist with his chin on your shoulder. You're practically trying to cook with a cuddle monster.

9:00pm

Settling down in your seat to eat should show a degree of separation, right? Nope, you were hugely mistaken. Chris hauls his chair ridiculously close, one hand reposing on your thigh the whole time. You can’t even manage to shift a centimetre away, he just shifts even closer.

“Hey, don’t run from me..” He teases and whines with a playful pout. even though you’ve moved an inch at most. You roll your eyes, but he just smiles proudly, squeezing your knee like he’s won.

9:35pm

You finish up dinner, clearing the table together as usual. Hey, just maybe the night will feel easier as both of you guys begin to wind down and you can finally get some space. But no, he's already gently steering you back against the counter, his hands ghosting over your waist, each step back a silent invitation until the cool counter greets your spine. His touch isn't anything close to unyielding — it's unhurried, a quiet insistence that he yearns for you to be near.

His arms wrap around you the moment you halt, tenderly drawing you flush against him as if the unoccupied stretch of space between you is excruciating. His head sinks onto your shoulder, the heat of his breath brushes your skin, warm and teasing like a soft whisper. His fingers tighten at your sides, unwilling to let go.

"Stay here, please. Don't move. Ever." He murmurs, his voice soft yet unwavering. His hold is featherlight yet resolute, like he can't help but reach for you, to know that you're here with him and long for him like how he longs for you. And in all honestly, you have no inclination to move at all.

10:00pm

The night is winding down, you get up after lazing on the couch with Chris. You begin to walk to the bathroom to commence your nighttime routine, and guess what? He ensues, refusing to stay in the living room like you thought he would. Instead, he's following closely at your heels, his footsteps a little too close for comfort. He's always just a few steps behind, following you through the house like he's on a mission. His mission? To get as adjacent to you as possible.

"Ma, wait up!"

You cast a little glance over your shoulder to see him leaning against the doorframe, arms folded casually as his gaze lingers on you, a tender smile on his face. Yet, in his eyes, theres something else beneath the warmth that they hold — A silent plea, barely concealed but filled with desperate longing and an unspoken hope. Just hoping that you'll let him join you in the bathroom.

A light laugh escapes you, followed by an eye roll. He doesn't even wait for an invitation, already pushing off the doorway and walking towards you, positioning himself behind you in the bathroom. The space begins to shrink around him, filled with a powerful allure. In the soft, ambient light of the bathroom, his figure is defined by a delicate shadow. Leaning over the counter, his chin comes to find its place and settles into the familiar curve of your shoulder with a soft movement. The warmth of his skin contrasts with the brisk air and the faint mist heightening from the tap. Even in this close proximity, his eyes were silently asking to be closer than ever before, like he wants to crawl into your skin.

"M'not leaving you in here by yourself, baby." He mumbles, his voice velvety and warm, as though each syllable was soaked in affection. The tenderness in his tone lingers in the air between you. Attempting to show you just how much you mean to him without saying it outright as if he's afraid to disrupt the fragile intimacy between you. His tone is reverent, as though every breath he draws in your presence is weighted and cherished like a precious gift, as though he's silently thanking the universe for the simple, mere chance to be near you.

Attempting to give him some space, you make a small effort to grab a towel, possibly even tidy up the shelf. Nonetheless, he's fucking relentless, every movement you made was mirrored by him, in a way that he cannot bear to stray from you.

10:20pm

Yet, even as you finish your dental routine, doing skincare, and getting ready for bed yet you can feel his presence at your back. You finally slip into the covers, the soft sheets feeling indulgent against your skin. But obviously, its not just the sheets that you're intwined in, it was the closeness that has you both entrapped in something far deeper than linen. Within moments, he's snugly nestled beside you. His arm draped around your body in a clingy embrace in a way that suggests that his body was instinctively seeking the warmth of yours. His face settling into the crook of your neck, breathing you in as if it's the only place he belongs.

"Mmm, this is perfect," he murmurs sleepily, planting a slow, warm kiss to your shoulder.

Even in his heavy-eyed state, he's still holding onto you like an anchor, You attempt to adjust, but he constricts his grip with a sleepy grunt.

"Nope. Mine. Stay."

And before you know it, just like that, you're fastened for the night. Wrapped in the embrace of your hopelessly devoted, irresistibly and utterly clingy boyfriend.