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spidybaby · 1 day ago

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Makeup Voice-over

Madrid Boys x Influencer!Reader

Summary: You ask your boyfriend for help to record the voice-over of your makeup routine.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: Hi guys! Many of you asked me to do a version of Barca Boys but with Madrid guys. I took the most mentioned in the requests, hope you like it, love you 🙂‍↔️❤️

Jude

"So, I just have to do say what you are doin'?" He asks, confused while you place the airpods on his ears.

"Yes, baby." You smile at him.

"What if I don't know the name of the product?" He asks, worried. "Or the name of the tool?"

"Jude, just do it your way, call it whatever."

"Alright, boss." He smiles.

You left the room, leaving him to do it alone. You walk with a laundry basket to the laundry room. Wanting to be surprised with the video once it's done.

Jude does what you told him, play the video, and start to say what you are applying with a lot of detail.

"Hello' mates, I'm Y/n, your favorite one. Today, I'm doing a tutorial so you can look as amazing as I do."

He chuckles as he stops the video. You recorded in parts so he could pause and do the voice over slowly.

"I'm applying this green gel, I think that's for hair." He says, confused. "Oh, on my face, okay." He doesn't understand why you would apply that to your face. "Now I'm grabbing this and putting drops of it on my face. As you can see, it's the same color as my skin." He explains.

He takes a pause to drink some water.

"With a sponge, I know that cause my amazing boyfriend who I adore gave it to me!" He says proudly. "I spread it all over my face, then you grab another product with the same color and put it under your eye, in your chin, in your forehead."

He tries to understand what you are doing but he doesn't really know much about makeup and he doesn't really know much about the names.

"Okay, so now you need to use powder, place it all over the stuff you just spread." He confusingly says. "Now I know this one, you need to blush your face just like when my perfect boyfriend gives me a compliment. Love you, darling." He chuckles.

He feels happy that he knows what you are doing, he might be dumb but he wasn't dumb to blush.

"Now apply brown powder cause why not." He explains. "Also, now with a brush, you grab this other brown powder and apply it to the eye, close it before, we don't want to become blind."

He praised himself for the knowledge.

"Now that your eyes are powdered with brown, you grab an even darker brown and do it to only a part of your eye." He says, obviously thinking he is correct. "Now you take this shiny powder and apply it to the other part of your eye, yes."

He pauses again, taking a other sip of his drink.

"Okay, mates, and you grab this mascara. Yes, that's the name. Write it down. You apply it to the lashes twice, apparently."

You are downstairs finishing with loading the washing machine, not thinking that it was going to be as funny as it was being.

"Now we apply lipstick, but if I'm being honest let's skip it, fuck!" He says, very confident. "Oh, shit. Not this glossy thing. Okay, apply a glossy thing to your lips but don't kiss your man because that will end up on his lips."

He hates gloss, everybody knows that now.

"And then you spray your face, why? I don't know." He chuckles. "Thank you guys, now go buy a real madrid jersey with the number 5, bye."

Kylian

"Bonjour à tous, je suis Y/n."

"Kyks, in English, please!" You say from the kitchen. He was recording the voice-over on the couch.

"Anyways, today I'm doing my skin care and makeup. Let's start." He says in a very sweet tone. "First wash your face if you don't disgusting."

You can't help but laugh at him.

"Shhh, I'm working here." He says, trying not to laugh. "You now need to pass this cotton thing with this mmm, water?" He questions.

You shake your head, he tries to praise that he knows everything but clearly don't.

"Pass it around and let it dry." He nods at himself. "Then you need to apply this silicony gel, make sure it's spead correctly because if not you will root and die."

"Kylian!" You warn him. "You can't say that to people."

"I know what I'm doing, mademoiselle." He tells you. "Now that you did, apply foundation on this plate and add some of your skin care. Why? Don't know, but do it just like I do."

He pauses the video to talk to you.

"What is the plate?" He asks.

"It's a mixing pallette." You explain. "You use it to mix products."

He nods, understanding. "Now you pick it up with a brush, applying it to your face. Blend it up calmly because if not, you might break an arm." He chuckles. "Then you move to your small foundation, I think that's not what is called but Google it. It's Dior as you can see."

He makes sure to say it because when you did a video asking him to guess the price he was impressed that Dior had makeup.

"Once that's done, you grab this brown cream. Grab the brush and take some product, apply to the forehead and the cheeks." He explains. "And grab this blush, one dot on each cheek, blend it."

You smile at how he looks like he is enjoying doing it.

"Grab the powder and powder yourself, make sure to be very powder, or you'll be all wet with the other products, and you will be the clown of the party."

You cover your mouth, can't believe how extra he was being.

"Then you'll grab another brown product, applying it again, same with the blush, do it again. Don't worry if it seems wasteful. Make your boyfriend get you another one."

He chuckles, knowing that he was being a hit.

"Now you need to move to the eyes. You are going to grab a pallette and apply a color to the eyes. You then gran your marker and draw a line, make it sharp, it needs to be able to cut the enemies."

You shake your head no, laughing at him being so extra.

"Once you do that, you need to apply more lashes, bigger ones." He explains. "They glue to the eyelid, and once it's done, grab a mascara, apply it."

You move from the kitchen to where he is. "Almost done? The food is ready."

He nods. "You are going to grab a color pencil. Paint your lips with it because you'll need it for the lipstick. When you are done, you need to apply a spray."

He tries to remember the name of that spray but he can't.

"And done, now I leave to go to a Real Madrid game to see my boyfriend, love you Kylian, the best, vote for him on La Liga player of the month, bye."

Arda

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" He asks, very shyly.

"Yes, love." You smile, caressing his face. "It's just a voice-over of my makeup tutorial."

"But I'll mess up things."

"No, you won't." You smile. "Just name things as you think they are, okay?"

"Okay."

He walks over to your studio, you let him alone to do it because he asked you to.

"Okay, shit." He takes a deep breath. "Hello everyone, my girlfriend is doing a makeup tutorial. First, she's applying this skin color cream with an eggy looking sponge."

He's confuse at the sponge but won't pay mind to it.

"Then you need to grab another skin color cream. This one is, I think, a little bit more bright, or maybe it's the light." He says, very confused. "You need to hit your face with the sponge and move the cream around. Then you are going to grab a big brush, she's using one I gave her for her birthday, don't ask me, my mom helped me." He chuckles

He didn't lie. He got you a lot of makeup things for your birthday. Thanks to his mom, he got everything right because he was lost.

"Now, with another brush, she's grabbing this thing to make her face have shape or something like that. You need to apply it to the jawline, the cheek, your nose, everywhere basically."

He's confuse about why is it everywhere, but he won't question you.

"Okay, now a different brush. This has been in her collection for a long time, I know cause I once almost broke it, and she told me that." He chuckles. "You grab this pinky powder, apply it to the cheeks and I don't know why she's also applying it on the top of her nose and on her eyelids."

He's confused at why you are doing that but won't complain. He isn't a woman, he can't argue with you about it.

"Okay, now she's using this eye makeup. She likes orange, and she will use it on her eyes. This makeup was when we played with the orange jersey. Love that jersey. Also, the white one is cool, but this one has its own thing."

He's rambling, but you don't mind about it. It was supposed to be something fun for you and him. So you told him to be himself and to ramble if he wants.

"After the eyes, she usually grabs this lash comb, makes her eyelashes grow, they look amazing." He admires the image of you. "She doesn't like gloss or lipstick, so she's using this belly thing on her lips, tapping it with her fingers to make it seem natural."

He was almost done. He knows it because when you do this, you then apply a spray and say you are done.

"To finish you grab this spray, it makes your makeup last. Why? I'm not sure, but I just trust the process, apparently." He says, trying not to chuckle. "Now we are done, and as you can see, she looks amazing. Thank you for watching."

Brahim

"Bueno gente, let's start this." Brahim says. "You'll need to be pretty cause if you are not as pretty as me, sad." He says.

You shake your head no, trying not to let the big laugh you are holding out.

"You need to use some foundation, I use this one from Rihanna." He mentions, not sura about brands but dealing with it. "You grab the sponge, hit your face with it, hard please so you can stamp that makeup on."

You lost it, letting the laugh out.

"Shhh, amor venga!" He says. "Okay, move on, you grab your concealer. In this case, I couldn't sleep because I like to watch my boyfriend who is very handsome, guapo el chico!"

You laugh again.

"You then grab this powder, also grab this triangle, press the powder, and then place it under the eyes, the forehead, the cheeks." He explains, feeling like a pro. "You then grab that cocoa powder lookalike. Then please grab a brush and a blush, I love the kiko one, muy bueno, mucho pimiento!"

"Pigmento!" You laugh

"Exactly," He says. "Now I don't like to add much eye shadow, I place this light brown, como café corto de leche, then I add highlight."

"Coffee with light milk?" You ask.

"Shhh, guapa." He says, waving his hand. "To finish, I apply my favorite mascara. It's named better than sex, even tho it is not because my boyfriend joder!"

You almost pee yourself from how hard you are laughing at his silliness.

"Now, apply a lip oil and go around your day." He says sassy. "Also, don't forget to go and see my boyfriend, The Brahim Diaz, highlights on La Liga Instagram. Adiós, kiss kiss." He finishes with a kiss sound.

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beatlblog · 3 days ago

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#my mans was ready to do his and his trepanning#he would've been dead or arresred by like 25 if paul didn't have impulse control (via @pauls1967moustache)

#deserves more praise for his John-handling abilities (via @exhausted-think-bucket)

#only crime was extending his micromanaging to george (via @melllotune)

#i didn't choose the dogboy john life the dogboy john life chose me (via @eveepe)

#get that bitch an enclosure 😭😭😭 (via @loureeddyke)

#john is such a feral dog he need to be put on leash#who was it again that described him as a dog with rabies 😭#yoko and paul are actually v similar#micromanaged john’s life#while also sorta using him for achieving their target#im not saying that its a bad thing btw#reminds me of john’s be my baby cover#‘we’ll make them turn their head every place we go’ (via @lennon666)

#sighing the deepest sigh#he should have just been a leather pup (via @themagicalmysticalboy)

#the thing is#John doesn’t just let anyone ‘control’ or ‘manage’ him#quite the opposite#when yoko did it he became a walking skeleton who got on heroin#Paul was really the only one to have done it that I’ll agree was good for him#but Jesus fucking Christ can we pls as a fandom stop acting like paul is perfect with no flaws ?#it’s actually a bit concerning how many people flirt with the idea that John was nothing without him#and never forget that they are BOTH insane#Paul fortunately for him#knew how to handle and control his shit better (via @lennonsfag)

#Hamburg beatles would beat early Beatles (63-65) up (via @fearlessechoes)

#so fed up with beatles posting#but with the operation I’m running on this blog it seems like lying by omission to leave some gay stupid shit like this out#pride is OVER (for the beatles specifically) (via @iamsigningmylifeaway)

#what the fuuuuuck#John Lennon literally Paul’s bitch#who said that (via @80yearoldmanmoodboard)

#should have micromanaged even harder (via @protovulcans)

#he needed to be muzzled fr (via @spinnach)

#¿perdón? qué??????????????????? (via @biatels)

#John should have had a legal guardian#and I think for comedic reasons it should have been just a random guy named Steve (via @paulic)

#the way that this is Also Nashby. (via @lookoutjoe)

#prev in many ways nash and mccartney are the same person (via @tweeterwilbury)

#100% true#he had zero real world skills#just like gillian anderson btw (via @delinquentchoirboy)

#turns out John was putting himself on the leash already#wonder what kind of ‘show’ he put on#oh to have been a fly on the wall of that bar#J&P engaging in public petplay in the year of our lord 1960 (via @oneofthebeautifulpeople)

#being a beatles fan is being the“well actually...” person always (via @friends2go)

#they shouldve brought this back in 1969. that wouldve solved everything i think#beatles#also that john put the leash on himself and gave it to paul...... ok (via @unusable)

#yeah but was he a kitten or a puppy that’s the important question (via @austinedition)

#omg bastian was right (via @demon-donkey)

#and not even that worked (via @paulpropaganda)

#of course they'd do this in germany (via @normalbrothers)

#every new thing i learn about the beatles has me shaking my head like excuse me he did what#head in hands (via @angelontheatrain)

for me it tends to be I FUCKING KNEW IT

sorry but john lennon did indeed need to be micromanaged and people need to stop scorning paul for doing it like the second there were too many enablers around he started doing heroin

#it's real and true #never beating the furry allegations #mach schau! die beatles in hamburg #lm #reeperbahn #hamburg #WITH a LOUD ROaR THEY STORMED a PUB

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sir-myst-cake · 1 day ago

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First post on here and it's a rant!! If you want more cool takes you should totally follow me as I'll be posting here more often and have totally cool art to share‼️‼️

I'm not completely sure how to tag this? I'm talking about the ships in a positive light so I think it's okay, and besides, I want lots of peeps to see it, I'm aware I probably won't change many people's minds at all, but it's okay lol, I just want Anti's to see they genuinely have a nothing burger and need to leave people alone.

This is a mostly TikTok only problem regarding Beast x Ancient's (thank god) but I've seen my fair share elsewhere like on here. So lemme counter every argument I've seen so far cause you got a lot of time on your hands to be telling people to off themselves over Cookie ships 😭 put that hate into people who actually deserve it.

BILLFORD COMPARISON

Regarding ShadowVanilla specifically, people have compared the ship a lot from both sides, but what really got me is what I've seen here:

"Shadow Milk Cookie is way worse than Bill! He drove Pure Vanilla to insanity! He tortured him!"- This is in regards to how people bring up the fact Anti's are fine with one thing but not the other when it's basically the same thing they're against. Psychological, physical, mental, and emotional torture. I'll be honest I haven't watched Gravity Falls whatsoever, but my friend has, and from what she says, yeah Bill is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment. He's done some crazy things, absolutely heinous, might even be a little worse than Shadow Milk or on the same level, either way though-

You can't like one thing and then not the other, it's different flavors of the same thing, it's hypocritical. Either you hate them both or you hate neither.

"Those are 2 different fandoms!"- Doesn't matter, it's the same thing, just different media, it's not different whatsoever aside from the universe, there's much torture involved on both ends.

ABUSER X VICTIM

This one I've seen A LOT and I'm just ??

"If you ship Beast x Ancient's you support Abuser x victim btw"- That's a STRETCH. You are reaching FAR. Nobody is romanticizing the abuse, nobody is normalizing it, it's stuff that happened in canon and we acknowledge it but nobody is doing any of that other stuff. I'm not condoning anyone in real life to do that shit lol. It's called exploring, they have an interesting dynamic, romantic or platonic, two sides of the same coin. You can say the same thing about horror movies, they put a lot of disturbing stuff in there. Do the movie producers CONDONE any of that stuff? Obviously not. Goes for Devsisters too, they don't condone body mutilation yet they still made Burning Spice rip off Cheese's wings.

But even so, for the people who DO like it for the angst, I won't say fiction doesn't affect reality because it does in many cases, but this isn't one of them. Not every relationship is going to be peachy and perfect, just like in real life. I can give an example on this one too actually.

GoldenLily, they aren't condoning what Lily (technically) did to Golden Cheese's kingdom, but they like it for all the potential, complicated feelings and emotions that come along with it.

Also, that's basically the same thing with Beasts x Ancients, just turn it around to enemies to lovers.

"This isn't Villain x hero, this is abuser x victim"- Are you saying MOST of media is abuser x victim then? This is in fact a typical hero x Villain trope, it's nothing new. Respectfully, you guys freak out when a Villain does villain stuff, I'd be surprised if there was a villain who DIDN'T cause any trauma for the opposing party. But according to this logic, media is just dead, no more fanfiction, no more what ifs, no more content since it's all apparently problematic and not canon. Even if somebody switches stuff up in an AU, and makes things completely fluffy, that's apparently still not enough.

"oh you had to make an AU to ship them because you know it's toxic"- No, it's just playing around with scenarios. Learn to separate fanon from canon. This specifically goes for the redeemed AU's I see of the Beasts, people still complain, they act as if people can't change. One of the biggest examples I have of that is FlutterCord, Discord did plenty of messed up things, but in the end, he still managed to change. You'll still get burned at the stake for it though.

"You must be an abuser yourself to condone this!!"- Extremely disrespectful and a WILDDD take. Need I say more??

"I ship Beast x Beast rather than Beast x Ancient's"- According to your logic, the Beasts are abusers right? And if we followed the same story, they are not mentally well whatsoever. You'd rather ship 2 dangerously mentally unstable characters together who'd just make each other worse? Destroy each other? Fuck each other up beyond belief? It doesn't make sense does it, nor is it fair for y'all to praise these ships but hate on the others. You like watching the cookies crumble huh 😭

CANON

"The ship isn't canon!"- We know that, everyone should know that. With what I said earlier, please learn to separate fanon from canon. That's what a fandom is, we do non-canon stuff, it's very fun, you should try it.

"It's a Proship/Dark ship!"- Going the canon route, Beasts are Eons old, Ancients are thousands of years old. Big gap yes, but nonetheless all of them are old as fuck. Older than bloodlines. Treating the Ancients as if they aren't grown adults. You're intentionally trying to make it weird. Stop calling ships you don't like proships please.

Also a little off topic but please don't listen to everyone you interact with on TikTok?? I remember one time I was scrolling through a comment section and saw somebody say "Doesn't Mystic Flour Cookie hate Burning Spice Cookie?" On a MysticSpice vid, looked in the replies, somebody asked for proof/where it was implied, and they didn't answer 💀 just blatantly spreading misinformation. Sources around you are way more reliable than people who don't back up their claims.

CONCLUSION

Even despite all this, you still have the right to feel how you wanna feel. Just please stop harassing people for simple stuff like this, in all honesty, I feel like it's more about seeing one of your favorite characters shipped with somebody who hurt them in canon that makes peeps upset. Which I can totally understand because I used to be exactly like that, I LIVEEEE for Dark Cacao Cookie, when Mystic Flour's update came out, I wanted her dead. Quite literally blocked someone because I couldn't stand seeing their MysticCao art. Hated what she did to my baby boy fr.

But then It started growing on me, over time, I just realized it was never that serious.

Even so, notice how I still didn't go out of my way to harass said person about it because I specifically didn't like it? It really is that easy. Block and go about your day.

I also suspect this because of stuff like this 💀

Love that person who replied, but it's not that hard y'all. We all can in fact, get along.

ANYWAYSSSS thanks to those who took the time read, I love you my pookies hope you have a good day or night💕💕

#cookie run kingdom #shadowvanilla #burningcheese #mysticcacao #silentlily #pureshadow #hollysugar #beast x ancient #type shit

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mangionebabymama · 3 days ago

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hey there! it’s “lulu feels too hard” anon back with another mini rant (not really a rant, more like an observation haha)

It’s in the same vein of him feeling emotions hard, but i think one thing that needs to be emphasized in this dynamic is how much he’s tried to subdue his emotions – and i don’t just mean recently. in many clips from his prep school days, like when he’s getting an award for example, you can see him smiling like a bit, but then cutting back to this neutral expression. Funny enough, it’s his eyebrows that always give him away loool. It’s similar to how he acts in the court hearing, full of expression, but then immediately goes back to a stoic, neutral expression. There’s even moments like this in some of the clips from Hawaii.

I guess my point is, how much was he taught to mask his emotions, and put up a front. It seems to me that he was brought up in a collective environment where the saying goes “always put your best foot forward, regardless of the circumstance”. I can understand this, coming from a family with similar values of “you represent the family name, your success is our success.”

i think though, that this seems to be what makes lulu resonate with so many of us: he’s empathetic, despite trying to be stoic. There’s a duality about him – the confident Ivy League scholar and the vulnerable, empathetic people pleasing boy who seeks affirmation one way or another.

but I think under this guise of putting your best foot forward, combined with a sense of always showing your masculinity that many guys of that age are pressured to do (and let’s not forget that for most of his schooling he attended an all boys school so there is that sort of “our boys” culture that’s pervasive in these realms), he had to hide the other part of him which felt so deeply, so hard.

it reminds me of one of his Reddit posts talking about his issues with Brain Fog, and how he initially never thought to talk about it with his friends, and instead masked it under this idea of “oh well, marks don’t matter for computer science majors” even though he was hurting and feeling so disappointed in himself to the point of contemplating dropping out. But the part that sticks out to me the most is what he said after in the post about even if you do end up telling them, if you wait too long, it’s almost like they won’t believe you (or something along those lines). And idk, that’s just such a heartbreaking way to think and it makes me sad for him. He internalized so much it seems. And truthfully, I’m not blaming anyone in his circle (family/friends) because I think part of it was also lulu never wanting to seem weak, which unfortunately clouded his vision of seeing that there were people who probably may have wanted to help. It’s just an all around sad circumstance :(

Sorry for the long write up, don’t feel like you need to provide a long response too! (haha i guess in some ways, i relate to lulu too :)

No, no, please don’t apologize for writing this, you captured this so well! 🥺 I wish I had more to add on, but you literally took all the words out of mine and emphasized on this beautifully.

I also think there’s that duality of having an internal vs. external struggle, where he could easily show and offer empathy towards others like it was nothing, but when it came to himself, it was a completely different story to extend grace. I know he had to internalize a lot, and the physical exertion of carrying all that weight on him had to have shown. I remember somebody mentioning how when he’s in deep thought in some photos, you see all the lines on his forehead—and there’s a lot of them, and once you notice them all crinkled, you’ll never not look at them in other photos. So, he literally has/had so much on his mind.

Reading that part of about his brain fog, about the irony of opening up too soon to your friends, fucked me up, to be truthful. I similarity dealt with this about two years ago, when I experienced two close familial deaths within a month before I started my senior year of college, and I was grieving hard. So many people that I know looked at me and considering my bereavement with the “strong Black woman” trope because I do have a strong personality, and I’ve experienced a lot of hardship in my life, so some felt like that I was gonna be alright, regardless, and kind of brushed off my grief like, “Oh, she’ll be alright, you’ve always managed to go through things” but no, lol. It’s the reality that I think, that many of the “strongest” friends in the group more often than not, face, surprisingly, contrary to belief—it happens all the time. When you’re commended to be a strong, resilient person, people don’t consider you to be weak, as in, you can’t persevere through struggles, but if you do, you’ll be fine, and the suffering won’t take much of an effect on you. But, like anyone else in this world, it still hurts, and it’s still acceptable to just give yourself the space to say that it sucks, and it hurts to be hurting. It’s sort of like, you have that universal perception of what it means to be hurt, but you can’t express that you’re hurt in the same breath.

#💚 mangionebabymama asks

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steveseddie · 6 hours ago

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in bloom

written for the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event | prompt: rose | rating: t | wc: 2,3k | tags: modern setting, flower shop au, wayne is the owner, eddie works with him, meet cute

read on ao3

Work at the flower shop is always a little slow after Valentine’s Day.

Eddie has been helping Wayne at Munson’s Floral Treasures long enough to know this. They’ll still get orders, of course– fancy arrangements for weddings, smaller bouquets for birthdays and anniversaries, but most of these are ordered in advance. They don’t get many people walking in throughout the day, looking for a last-minute Valentine’s Day gift.

Eddie likes to send his uncle home on slow days like this. If there are no deliveries to be made and supplies aren’t coming in, Eddie is more than capable of handling however many customers come in by himself. If he can’t, all he has to do is run upstairs to the apartment and get Wayne.

So far there hasn’t been any need for that today. It’s been almost an hour since Eddie sent the old man away and no one has come into the shop. In the meantime, Eddie answers a few calls, writes down a couple of big orders, and sweeps the floor of the shop before going to the backroom to work on some new arrangements for their window display. In case anyone comes looking for a ‘Sorry I forgot about Valentine’s Day’ gift.

Eddie just got started on the second arrangement when the bell finally jingles.

He puts the shears down and steps out of the backroom, wiping his hands on his apron. “Greetings and welcome to Munson’s Floral Treasures!”

There’s a guy standing in the middle of the shop, facing away from Eddie as he studies the flowers covering the walls. He jumps when he hears Eddie, whirling around and offering a little wave. “Oh, hi.”

God, he’s pretty, Eddie thinks as he takes in the guy’s hazel eyes and soft lips. His eyes travel lower to the chest hair peeking out of the guy’s polo shirt and the way his jeans hug his thighs just right.

Then he remembers he’s working and ogling customers is probably rude. Clearing his throat, Eddie offers him a polite smile. “Can I help you?”

The guy shakes his hair out, running his hand through it to push it back. “Yeah, so, I have kind of a weird request.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Lucky for you, I love weird,” he says, which sounds a little weird and makes Eddie grimace. Jesus, try to be normal, Munson.

But the guy chuckles, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I– I need a bouquet that says ‘fuck you’ in a passive-aggressive way,” he says, his eyes flickering nervously over Eddie’s face.

“That’s it?” Eddie asks with a snort. “Because I promise you, man, that’s not the weirdest thing someone has asked for.”

The guy’s eyebrows shoot up. “No?”

“Nope,” he says, leaning on his elbows and gesturing at the guy to come closer like he’s sharing a secret. “One time a guy came in and asked for a flower arrangement to apologize for breaking into a home.”

A disbelieving laugh tumbles from the guy’s lips. “What? Really?”

“Yup. That was the first time that a sale ended with me having to talk to the police,” Eddie says before pursing his lips. “Actually no, that’d be when I used to deal weed in high school.”

The guy lets out a loud laugh, scrunching his shoulders in a way that has Eddie melting against the counter. Pretty, hot and cute. That can’t be fair. “Well, I doubt my bouquet will involve any police investigation.”

“No?” Eddie asks, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not planning on murdering whoever you’re giving it to?”

The guy’s nose scrunches up. “God, I wish, but no, this is just for my own amusement.”

“Good thing I happen to be in the business of amusing pretty guys,” Eddie says, shooting him a flirty grin, getting all up in his space until the guy’s eyes widen and Eddie pulls back. “Uh, customers! I meant customers, Jesus.”

Luckily, the guy seems far from bothered by Eddie’s flirting. In fact, his eyes sparkle with something that looks suspiciously like interest, his cheeks turning pink.

Most times when Eddie has to put together an arrangement he asks the person to check out the shop while he goes to the work table they keep in the back, but he really doesn’t want to waste a moment with this guy so he says fuck it and starts working on the bouquet right there on the counter.

He can feel the guy’s eyes watching him curiously.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Eddie starts, breaking the silence after a moment. “Who is this going to? Cheating girlfriend? Asshole boss? Shitty family member?”

He glances up just in time to catch the guy staring intently at Eddie’s hands as he works. When he feels Eddie’s attention on him, his head snaps up, the color on his cheeks deepening.

“Uh, no– no cheating girlfriend. No girlfriend at all actually,” he says. Then after a short pause, he adds, “no boyfriend either.”

Eddie almost drops the shears. It has to mean something that the guy wants him to know that, right?

Before Eddie can reply with something stupid like ‘good, do you want one?’ the guy keeps talking.

“You were right about the other two, though,” he says. “My shitty father is also my asshole boss.”

Eddie grimaces at that. Wayne is his dad in all ways that count and working with him isn’t bad, but for a second he entertains the idea of having to work with his father instead and already he’s convinced he’d need a couple of ‘fuck you’ bouquets too.

“Our firm is throwing him a party for signing this big company but they don’t care about how many people he had to fire for that to happen or how many of those so-called business trips he spent cheating on my mom,” the guy explains and Eddie lets out a sympathetic whistle.

“Fuck, man. That’s definitely shitty.”

The guy shoots him a tiny smile. “Yeah, and since I’m expected to attend, I thought I could at least get some enjoyment out of it.” He points at the flowers that Eddie is carefully selecting. “This seemed like a better idea than, like, sabotaging his party.”

Eddie lets out an amused snort. “Yeah, that’s probably smart.”

They fall into comfortable silence with the guy staring at Eddie while he works. This time it’s him who strikes up a conversation.

“So, uh, Eddie,” the guy starts, squinting his eyes to read the name tag on his shirt. “I’m not like, telling you how to do your job or anything but isn’t that a lot of orange and yellow? Aren’t those happy colors?”

“Actually, these orange lilies symbolize hatred,” Eddie explains. “And the yellow carnations symbolize rejection and disdain.”

The guy’s mouth falls open in an ‘o’ shape. He leans on the counter and picks another one of the flowers that Eddie has spread out on the counter. “What about this one?”

“Foxglove. They can represent insincerity and deceit.”

The guy nods along as Eddie continues to explain the meaning of every flower he has picked, his eyes sparkling with interest. Flower language is one of the many things Eddie could ramble about for hours, but people usually don’t care enough about it to hear him out. But this guy is listening intently, his chin resting on his hand as Eddie talks.

“And what does that mean?” He asks, pointing at the greens Eddie picked for filler.

“Nothing, that’s just greenery.”

“Oh,” the guy chuckles, ducking his head with an embarrassed little smile. “You– uh, you know a lot about flowers, man. How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was a little kid,” Eddie says, carefully arranging the greens. “My uncle owns the shop so even before I came to live with him I was helping out here. My dad wasn’t around much, he used to drop me off all the time so Wayne started teaching me how to take care of the flowers, how to make arrangements. Now I also help him with deliveries and stuff.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. I've always liked flowers. And I like doing things with my hands,” Eddie says, wiggling his fingers with a smirk, watching as the guy’s eyes follow the movement.

“They’re good. Your hands,” he says, the color rising on his cheeks when his words catch up with him. “I mean, they look good. What they’re doing looks good.”

A pleased grin stretches over Eddie’s lips. “Thanks, big boy,” he says, grinning wider when the guy’s breath hitches.

“Uh, Steve. I’m Steve.”

Eddie thought he’d have to come up with an excuse to ask for his name, some bullshit about needing it for the receipt, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to now. “Well, Steve, any preference for the wrapping?”

“Um, no. You pick.”

“Alright,” Eddie says, grabbing some green wrapping paper and tying it neatly around the bouquet with a red bow. “All done.”

Steve grabs the bouquet with an awed smile. “It’s perfect. So pretty that no one will know I’m telling my dad he sucks.”

“I aim to please,” Eddie says, grinning smugly.

Steve chuckles, reaching into his jacket for his wallet and sliding a card across the counter. Eddie rings him up as slowly as he can get away with, not wanting Steve to go yet.

By the way Steve lingers after Eddie hands his card back, maybe he doesn’t want to either.

“I should go, let you get back to work,” Steve says eventually. Eddie tries not to look too disappointed. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, Stevie. Good luck with your dad.”

Steve makes a face but thanks Eddie again before turning around to leave.

When he’s almost at the door, Eddie impulsively calls after him. “Steve, wait!”

Turning around, he raises an eyebrow at Eddie.

“You– uh, you forgot something.”

“I did?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, plucking a red rose from one of their leftover Valentine’s Day bouquets and ducking under the counter to catch up with Steve by the door. “This.”

“For the bouquet?” He asks, tilting his head.

“No, for you,” Eddie says, “on the house.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Do you give roses to all your customers?”

“Only the pretty ones I really want to see again.”

Steve smiles, finally reaching for the rose. “Well, then,” he says, winking. “I’ll see you, Eddie.”

Eddie grins. “Bye, Steve.”

***

The bell above the door chimes and Eddie pauses his pruning to greet the new customer.

“Welcome to Munson’s Floral Treasures, what can I do for– Steve!” He cuts himself off when he recognizes him, a too big grin appearing on his face.

Steve grins right back, offering a small wave. “Hi, Eddie.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see Wayne glancing at them over the shoulder of the old lady he’s currently helping. Eddie knows he’ll have to explain to his nosey uncle why he’s on a first name basis with a customer and why he’s so happy to see him, but he’ll worry about that later.

“You’re back,” Eddie says, turning his attention back to Steve. It’s been a week since the first time he was here and Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t spend his days glancing wistfully at the door every time someone came in hoping it was Steve. “Here for another ‘fuck you’ bouquet?”

Steve chuckles, following Eddie to the counter. “No, I’m here for something else.”

Eddie ducks behind the counter, resting his elbows on the surface. “Another weird request?” He asks, playfully waggling his eyebrows.

“You tell me,” Steve says, copying Eddie’s position on the opposite side of the counter, leaving their faces only inches apart. Eddie gulps, heat rising to his cheeks. “I need you to deliver a bouquet for me.”

“That’s pretty standard for a flower shop, Stevie,” Eddie says, cocking his head in amusement. “But sure, whatcha need?”

“A bouquet that says ‘do you want to go on a date with me?’”

Eddie blinks, trying to make sure he’s not imagining the little smirk tugging at Steve’s lips. “Oh, um, of course. We can do that!” He says, his voice an octave too high. “What’s– what’s the address for the delivery?”

That smirk turns into a full-on grin. “Oh, that’s easy,” Steve says, leaning even closer. Eddie hopes Wayne is too busy with the old lady to see what’s happening or he’ll never hear the end of this. “Munson’s Floral Treasures– ever heard of it?”

Eddie’s stomach flip-flops wildly. “You tryna ask my uncle on a date, Stevie?” He teases, barely able to keep the giddy smile off his face. “He might be a little too old for you.”

“Maybe,” Steve shrugs, walking his fingers on the counter until they’re brushing against Eddie’s arm. “But I think his nephew might be perfect for me.”

Eddie’s knees go weak from Steve’s words and his featherlight touch on his arm. “I think you might be right,” he says, biting his lip.

Steve’s eyes flicker down for a split second. “So, you’ll send that for me?”

“Yup. Happy to.”

“Great.” Steve grabs a pen from the counter and writes something down on the notepad where they take orders. “Here’s my number. You know, so you can let me know how the delivery went and what the answer was.”

Eddie nods, and with a wink, Steve turns around and leaves.

As soon as he walks through the door, Eddie grabs his phone and dials Steve’s number. He watches through the window as Steve stops and digs his phone from his pocket, a smile twitching at his lips as he brings it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s a yes,” Eddie says eagerly.

Steve peers through the window and shoots him a lopsided grin. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So can I pick you up on Friday at 7?”

Eddie forces himself not to let a happy squeal or punch his fist in the air because Steve can see him. “Yeah, that’s– that’s good.”

“See you on Friday then,” Steve says, hanging up and waving at Eddie through the window before he disappears down the street.

As soon as he’s gone, Eddie breaks into a grin. He gets weird looks from Wayne and the customers that come in throughout the day but it hardly matters. He has a date to look forward to.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddiebingokiss #stranger things #stranger things fic #i remember reading a fic with this prompt a long time ago and i thought i’d write it for these two #eddie munson #steve harrington #monse writes

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freewilllife · 12 hours ago

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Viktor’s commune always gave off creepy vibes, but for me, the path it was taking became crystal clear at the start of ep6. That first scene basically spells out the extent of Viktor’s corruption and how far his actions and mindset are from any kind of altruism.

@jaybejaybeyes Personally, I interpret this after having some conversations as "Victor��s dream come true".

Indeed, it is a sort of corruption, but it seems Victor is actually well-meaning here.

And look at Viktor's face when it happens. That’s not horror. That’s not astonishment. That’s not grief. It’s… mild annoyance, I'd say?

Why should he grieve Salo´s death? I am just curious. They are neither friends, nor related. Victor "healed" them, but that doesn´t make him Jesus.

He may consider himself responsible in a way, but I doubt, that he became suddenly all-loving.

And that’s the thing about Viktor’s commune — it was never about the people who joined it. It was never about understanding them, helping them, or connecting with them. It was all about Viktor’s desperate need to be in control, about his refusal to confront suffering, pain, and all the messy, complicated parts of being human. From the very beginning, it was about Viktor going, “well, the end justifies the means”, but there’s nothing kind or humanistic about that philosophy, because it always comes at the expense of people’s lives. The end never justifies the means.

Nope, you are definitely wrong. Victor indeed has wished to make the lives of the people better with "hextech" , was even more outspoken, that he did not wish to create weapons and I guess that this commune is literally, how he envishioned it. There is corruption...but it is the arcane at work here. And maybe even in Jayce case.

There can be a conversation to be had, if the people are already dead or are still alive...but what is undoubtly true...The whole commune is dependant on Victor.

People can be both...Yes, Victor wanted to stay alive, but he is not a control-freak...And surely not a guy, who thinks that the "the end justifies the means". I mean, isn´t it funny, that the solution Victor is conviced of, plays in the hands of the arcane, which obviously has a will of its own?

It is literally right there...that the arcane heavily influenced and manipulated Victor, and most likely also Jayce.

The end never justifies the means.

That is an oversimplification. There are cases, where the end literally justifies the means.

And honestly, I was surprised to see how many people were mad at Jayce for blasting Viktor at the end of that episode. In my opinion, by then, it was quite clear that Viktor didn’t care much about his Arcane-modified toys. He wasn’t even pretending he did. Salo wasn’t a person to him. None of them were. They were just tools, stepping stones for his glorious evolution. And all of that was right there in the first scene of ep6.

Oh, that is interesting. Did suddenly "the end justify the means" or becomes murder a great deed, if the right character is killed?

In contrast, Victor tried to be responsible for his commune and tried to protect them, literally dying. I am sorry, but I am not sure, why you suddenly jump to such conclusions?

I still feel like we were ROBBED of that whole arc, watching Viktor descend to this. Because he gives a shit about Vander, so it's not like he's totally unempathetic--like he's still Viktor. It's just that from the start of the commune up to this point, Viktor has been going through a slow descent into madness from not having a single actual person to talk to who isn't completely bound to him in some way. There is nobody to question him and everyone is relying on him constantly.

@straysparks Yes, the influence of the arcane gets stronger.

Viktor is deeply empathetic but also vulnerable to megalomania, and having a whole group of people worship you for months on end is gonna get to your head eventually even if you really really really hate the idea. Which I think we can be pretty certain he does at first, unless you subscribe to the idea that the Hexcore is really majorly influential to his personality change.

Both, but why should this not be the case? The arcane has a will of its own and can be vicious if challenged. Victor was literally drowned in it and hears a voice the moment he wakes up...Of course, he is being changed/manipulated to a certain degree. When Ekko literally broke the armour, Victor woke up and realized, what he had done...This moment of "waking up" does not make much sense, if the arcane has not played a major role in the corruption process.

Because people being wrong are rarely persuaded by violence alone.

I think his disconnection from his empathy is driven by a need to get away from the closeness of the commune members. He's an extremely private person and he gets virtually no space or time to himself for months on end. Seeing the commune members as cogs in a machine is a coping strategy and I must stress that there is NO ONE to check him on this.

Or he already knows deep down , that they are already dead? He does care for them, but I mean, he is literally not Jesus, has hardly any personal attachment to them. In fact, Victor had always difficulties in that area.

Hexcore influence is convenient to the narrative, but Viktor's character is set up in such a way that his behavior here isn't even out of character given a particular series of events which we KNOW happen, we just don't see them on screen. It's ooc if you assume Viktor doesn't change between the times we see him on screen, but that's the thing, he DOES.

The hexcore influence is not just convenient, it literally explains so much...Look here:1,2

I saw the light after reading those posts. Nope, Victor does not suddenly become mad or cold for no reason, he literally is partly mind-controlled.

Think about it: Viktor sees Jayce kill Salo through Salo’s eyes. He’s connected to Salo but doesn’t even try to comfort him, verbally or mentally, or ease his pain with magic in his final moments. He just stands there, watching. Waiting for Salo to die, staring at Jayce. The only time he flinches is when Jayce lunges forward, and Salo dies abruptly — his vision cuts to black.

And look at Viktor's face when it happens. That’s not horror. That’s not astonishment. That’s not grief. It’s… mild annoyance, I'd say?

Like, ugh. Jayce didn’t get it. He didn’t appreciate my work. And now he’s also destroyed one of my puppets. Sounds pretty frustrating, doesn't it, Viktor?

Then Sky says, “poor Salo”, and Viktor? Immediately pivots to, “That’s not Jayce. It’s another will at work within him”. And a moment later, he’s fascinated by the Anomaly. Salo’s gone, and no one spares him an extra thought.

And all of that was right there in the first scene of ep6.

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jungkoode · 19 hours ago

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死 KKANGPAE | #04 死

† forest rendezvous †

"They say the most dangerous predators are the ones that make you feel safe before they strike. But watching him calculate each shot with deadly precision, you realize there might be something even more dangerous - the ones who warn you exactly what they are, and still make you want to stay."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 6k

rating: mature

content: forced proximity, piggyback, sniping, ominous threats, badmouthing, hinting at deeper wounds

☠ author's note ☠

A/N: Oh wow, apparently I even had author's notes saved in my drafts when I started writing this back in 2020? Past!me had *thoughts* and present!me is just here like (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

So I'm basically taking those written thoughts and rechanneling them through my 2025 brain. And let me tell you, the cognitive dissonance is REAL. Like past!me was all "but it's a slow burn!" and current!me is just cackling in the corner because honey... you have no idea what's coming ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д

I really debated on whether to include the piggyback scene or not. Had the whole thing pictured out a LONG time ago (we're talking pre-pandemic long, yes I am ancient, no I don't want to talk about it), but wasn't sure if I should add it here... you know, being a slow burn and all that jazz. But I think it works? They're both so against it that it's basically negative development at this point lmao.

Also, FORCED PROXIMITY MY BELOVEDS. If you think I'm not going to milk every single trope in existence, you clearly don't know me well enough yet. Just wait until we get to- *gets tackled by the spoiler police*

As always, thank you for reading! Your comments give me life and serotonin, which I desperately need because my caffeine addiction can only do so much. Stay tuned! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

⚔ socials ⚔

read on ao3

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

"Shit—"

The word slips out as you struggle to your feet, using Jeon's hand like some kind of reluctant lifeline.

That's when your ankle decides to remind you exactly how badly you messed up trying to ambush him earlier. The adrenaline's wearing off, leaving behind nothing but raw, throbbing pain that makes you want to scream. Or cry. Maybe both.

"I think I twisted my ankle."

Jeon drops your hand like it's burning him, his expression morphing into pure exasperation.

"You must be kidding me."

"Yeah, because I love pretending to be injured during paintball." The pain makes your words sharper than intended. "It's my favorite hobby, actually."

He presses his hand against his face and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head. His expression shifts from annoyed to something more complex—like a storm trying to decide which direction to blow.

The silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable. You lean against the rock, trying to take weight off your ankle, but it just keeps t̶h̶r̶o̶b̶b̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶b̶i̶t̶c̶h̶ hurting worse with each passing second.

Finally, Jeon clicks his tongue and strides over to you. Then he just... turns around. Stands there. Like you're supposed to know what that means.

When you don't move, he adds, "Hop on," in a voice that somehow manages to sound both annoyed and urgent at the same time.

Like he's throwing commands to a dog.

You stare at his back, brain struggling to process what's happening. This is Jeon—Mr. Ice Prince himself—offering you a piggyback ride. The same guy who can barely stand being in the same room as you most days.

He glances over his shoulder, dark eyes meeting yours. "I said, hop on. We don't have all day."

"No way." Pride makes you lift your chin despite the pain. "I'm not getting a piggyback from you. I'll just... wait here."

His patience visibly snaps. He turns to face you fully. "You can't walk, and you'll be a liability." The words come out sharp and cold. "If someone from his team finds you, you're out. And now, you're on my team."

"What do you mean I'm on your team?"

"You ask too many questions." He bites the inside of his cheek, clearly t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶'̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶n̶o̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ done with your attitude. "Were you or were you not with my team when shit went down?"

"What does that have to do with—"

"It's an improvisation game. It's V's thing, stealth. Remember?" His voice cuts through yours like a knife. "Whoever's with me when V strikes is on my team. Same goes for him. It's really not that complicated."

He takes a deep breath, face muscles shifting to something more controlled. When he looks at you again, he seems determined.

"I'm not losing to V, especially not because of you. So either hop on," the gentleness in his voice has an edge that makes you tense, "or I'll pull rank and make it an order."

Your blood boils at that. The audacity of this man, threatening to pull rank just because you don't want to get a piggyback ride like some kid. But he's right, and that just pisses you off more. Your ankle's screaming, and you're basically a sitting duck out here.

Fuck.

You hobble closer, swallowing your pride along with a string of curses. The warmth oozing off his body envelops you swiftly, making your heart do weird things in your chest.

Getting on his back is awkward and t̶h̶o̶r̶o̶u̶g̶h̶l̶y̶ ̶h̶u̶m̶i̶l̶i̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ uncomfortable, but he lifts you like you weigh nothing. His body is all lean muscle under your hands, which is just... t̶h̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶g̶o̶n̶e̶ not something you need to think about right now. You kind of want to knee him in the ribs, just because you can.

You don't, though. Your ankle's already betrayed you once tonight—no need to make things worse.

He starts moving with careful, measured steps. Neither of you speaks. If he's as annoyed as you are about this whole situation, he doesn't show it anymore. His focus is entirely on the game now, eyes scanning the darkness, body tense and ready. Like a storm gathering strength.

And that just pisses you off more. Here you are, swallowing your pride with every step he takes, while he acts like carrying you is just another mission parameter to execute. The quiet forest floor suddenly seems way more appealing than being trapped in his personal weather system.

His breathing is steady, a rhythm that somehow makes the tension worse. Because yeah, he's helping you, but it feels like being rescued by a particularly moody thundercloud. The fact that you need him right now doesn't make you like him any better—it just makes everything more complicated.

Your eyes are dragged to the edges of his tattoos where they disappear under his shirt. Each one probably has a story, but good luck getting those out of Mr. Storm-and-Silence here.

Still, you're curious.

Are they about pain? Strength? Or maybe he just likes sitting through hours of needles because he's t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶k̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶m̶a̶s̶o̶c̶h̶i̶s̶t̶ that dedicated to his aesthetic.

The silence starts to feel heavy, pressing down like gathering clouds. All you can see is his back, and the closeness makes your skin buzz like it's charged with static.

"So where exactly are we going?" You break the silence because honestly, anything's better than drowning in his suffocating presence.

"Paintball weapon cache."

"Wait, what?" You can't keep the disbelief out of your voice. "I thought we were getting my ankle checked out—"

"This is a simulation." He cuts off. "V's games are unpredictable, but they mirror real scenarios. We adapt. We deal."

There's something under that icy tone—a competitiveness that makes you think this is more than just training to him. Your fingers twitch against his shoulders, and you try not to think about the muscle shifting under your hands.

"You do this often?" You find yourself asking, curiosity winning over irritation.

"Unfortunately." The word carries a gust of dry humor. "V likes his... creative training methods. Paintball, surprise drills, mock raids. He's impulsive, but effective."

"Sounds... fun?" The word tastes weird in your mouth.

"If you enjoy being perpetually ambushed." His dry tone makes your lips twitch despite yourself.

You fall quiet, thinking about these two forces of nature—Jeon's storms and V's thorny garden. Different kinds of dangerous, but both leaving destruction in their wake (duh, they're assassins?). One's all calculated precision, the other pure chaos—yet somehow they both keep the gang's deadliest division running.

"So what's the plan now?" You try to keep your voice neutral. If you're stuck being his human backpack, might as well try to be useful.

"We arm ourselves." His voice gains a strategizing color. "It's not about having the most firepower. Real situations never go according to plan."

Something about his tone piques your curiosity even further. "Has he always been like this? V? With the whole paintball ambush thing?"

Jeon lets out a sound that's caught between amusement and irritation. "Yeah. You never know what to expect with that psycho. There was this one time when he—"

He cuts himself off abruptly. You can feel how his muscles tense against your legs, probably kicking himself for almost sharing something personal.

"When he what?" You can't help pushing. The rare glimpse behind his walls is too tempting to ignore.

"Never mind." His voice goes flat, that familiar coldness sliding back into place.

The silence stretches again, pregnant with all the things he won't say. It's strange, catching these tiny cracks in his perfect ice-prince facade. Makes you wonder what other stories he's keeping locked away.

As you move deeper into the forest, his competitive side starts showing through. He explains the rules like he's briefing for a real mission, all strategy and tactics.

"...And the objective?" You ask, trying to piece it all together.

"Last team standing wins." His voice rumbles through his back against your chest. "Or take out the opposing leader—me or V."

"Makes sense." You nod, hyper-aware of how his voice ricochets through you. "But why so intense? It's just paintball, right?"

The question slips out before you can stop it. But really—all this drama over some colored paint?

"It's never just a game." The edge in his voice could cut glass. "In our world, everything's a test. A challenge. We're constantly proving ourselves. You should know that by now."

His words sink in slowly. You do know—every day in this place feels like walking a tightrope, being watched, measured, judged. Even something as simple as paintball becomes another arena to prove your worth.

"This is exhausting," you mutter, and you actually mean it. The weight of constant training, constant proving yourself—it gets old fast.

"It is." Something in Jeon's voice makes you wish you could see his face. There's a pause, then: "But it's necessary. Keeps us sharp. Survival of the fittest and all that shit."

The bitterness in those last words catches you off guard. It's weird hearing him talk like this—like maybe he's not totally sold on the whole 'constant competition' thing either. The thought of Jeon having doubts about anything feels like finding a dent in what you thought was solid concrete.

He continues moving through the forest like he was born here, feet finding paths you can barely see in the dark. The trees loom overhead, their leaves whispering secrets you can't quite catch. Soon, you are opening your mouth again before your brain can stop you.

"How'd you end up here?"

His stride breaks—just for a second, but you feel it. The air grows heavy again, pressing down on your shoulders.

"Circumstances. Choices." The words come out clipped, that familiar wall slamming back into place. "Same as anyone else."

You can practically taste the story he's not telling. Something dark and messy that turned him into this walking hurricane of a person. But pushing would be stupid, and contrary to popular belief, you're not that dumb.

"Right." You let it drop, focusing instead on how the moonlight catches on his silver chain when he moves.

Jeon picks up speed, and the trees seem to close in around you both. It seems to be a sign you are approaching your destination.

"So once we get the guns, what's the plan?" You try to break the weird tension that's settled between you.

"Find high ground," he says, voice low and focused. "Somewhere we can see everything but stay hidden. Sniping's all about patience and precision."

"And you think there's actually a spot like that around here?" You can't keep the skepticism from your voice. You've done your fair share of surveillance—good vantage points are rare as hell in this forest.

He just grunts, confident as ever. "I know this place like the back of my hand." He actually lifts one hand to prove his point, the moonlight catching on his rings.

It shouldn't be as hot as it is.

Silence falls again and the trees grow closer together, moonlight filtering through in weird patterns that make everything look kind of surreal. The darkness feels heavy, like it's trying to remind you both that you're not exactly on a fun camping trip here.

You watch him scan the forest ahead, all focus and precision. It hits you that this is his element—the quiet, the calculation, the waiting game.

"You really think this'll work against V's team?" The doubt slips into your voice before you can stop it.

"It's not about what works against them." He sounds almost philosophical, which is... different. "It's about playing to our strengths."

He pauses to lick his lip ring—a habit you're starting to notice—before adding: "Plus, I'm Chief of Tactical Assassinations for a reason. Best sniper in Kkangpae. Best in South Korea."

"Best in the whole country? For real?" You hate how interested you sound.

"Probably." His shoulders lift in a small shrug that makes you bounce slightly.

"Right." You roll your eyes. "Got any proof of that?"

"I do." The response comes quick, matter-of-fact. "They're all dead though."

A snort escapes before you can stop it.

Shit.

Okay. That may have been actually funny. But you're definitely not laughing at his jokes. He might have a sense of humor hiding under all that ice, but he's still an ass.

Jeon slows down as you reach what looks like the world's most underwhelming hideout—just a tiny hut tucked between the trees. His muscles go tense against your legs, like he's preparing for trouble. The way he lowers you to the ground is weirdly gentle for someone who usually acts like basic human contact might give him hives.

Your ankle screams in protest when you put weight on it, making you wobble slightly. Something flickers across Jeon's face—t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶m̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶c̶e̶r̶n̶ probably just annoyance at having to babysit you.

"You good?"

The question catches you off guard. Since when does the ice prince care if you're okay?

You manage a nod, not trusting yourself to speak without letting out some embarrassing noise of pain. He turns toward the hut but pauses, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

"Tell me if you see movement." His voice drops to barely above a whisper. "Any movement."

Then he's gone, slipping into the darkness of the hut. You hear him moving around inside, probably doing some super-professional sniper inventory check or whatever the hell he does.

When he emerges, he's carrying two paintball rifles like they weigh nothing. You try really hard not to notice how the moonlight catches on his arm muscles as he moves, or how smoothly he closes the door with just a flick of his wrist.

He hands you one of the rifles, dark eyes scanning the forest with the kind of focus that reminds you why he's chief of his division. Then he just... crouches down again, waiting for you to climb back on.

The sight of him effortlessly holding a rifle while offering you a piggyback makes something in your chest twist. How dare he make this look so easy? How dare he be this capable and t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ this insufferable at the same time?

You sigh, swallowing your pride along with several choice words about the universe's sick sense of humor, and climb back onto his back. His body is warm against yours and you hate that you notice. You hate even more that he's not even breaking a sweat carrying both you and the gear.

Stupid attractive jerk with his stupid perfect aim and his stupid strength. The least he could do is be ugly, but no—he had to look like that while being the most irritating person you've ever met.

Jeon stands like your weight is nothing—because of course he does. He adjusts the rifle with practiced ease, and you try really hard not to notice how effortlessly he handles both you and a weapon. It's t̶h̶o̶t̶ ̶b̶r̶a̶i̶n̶ ̶a̶c̶t̶i̶v̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ annoying how good he is at literally everything.

His movements fall into a steady rhythm as he walks, and you find yourself swaying slightly with each step. It's weird being this close to someone you can barely stand. The guy who's usually a walking natural disaster is suddenly all careful precision, like the calm before a storm.

The hill stretches up ahead, moonlight painting everything in silver and shadow. Somewhere in the distance, paintball guns are still going off. Sounds like V's twisted little game is still in full swing for everyone else who isn't stuck playing piggyback with their nemesis.

You watch the forest ahead, trying to focus on anything except how warm Jeon is against the cool night air. He moves through the undergrowth like he was born for this. The higher you climb, the slower he moves, until finally he stops altogether.

Without a word—because god forbid he actually communicate like a normal person—he crouches slightly. Your cue to get off this incredibly awkward ride.

"Here." His voice is barely above a whisper as he helps you down with surprising care.

You scan the area, taking in the elevated position and clear view of the forest below. It's perfect for sniping, which makes sense given who picked it. But something about being this exposed makes your skin crawl.

"This is way too exposed." Your instincts are screaming at you to find better cover. The entire forest floor is visible from up here, which means you're visible too. "We need something more concealed."

Jeon turns his head just enough to catch your eye in the moonlight. "Trust me."

Two simple words, but they hit different.

Trust isn't something that comes easy in this life. Especially not between you and Mr. Hurricane himself.

Yet here he is, asking for it like it's that simple.

You weigh your options, torn between your screaming survival instincts and his calm certainty. Finally, you give him a reluctant nod. What choice do you really have?

You can't help watching as Jeon sets up his position. The way he moves is t̶o̶o̶ ̶g̶r̶a̶c̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ irritatingly efficient, precise and purposeful. His eyes scan the terrain with a focus that makes your mouth inexplicably dry.

Because it's weird seeing him like this. The usual cold, intimidating chief is gone, replaced by someone who moves with quiet, deadly grace. Every shift of his body as he positions the rifle speaks of years of practice, of countless nights spent perfecting each tiny movement.

The hurricane that usually swirls around him has settled into something different—a gentle breeze that makes your skin tingle. It's... weird.

Almost peaceful.

You can't help studying him while he's focused like this. The way his dark eyes track every movement below, how his brow furrows just slightly when he's thinking. His silver piercings catch the moonlight when he shifts, and you find yourself leaning closer.

Just to see better, obviously. For tactical reasons.

Movement near the cache catches your attention. Jeon goes completely still beside you, the kind of stillness that reminds you he's literally the best sniper in South Korea. You lean in further, trying to see what he's seeing, and suddenly realize how close you are. Your shoulder brushes his, but neither of you moves away. You're both too focused on the target below, who's digging through supplies like they've got all the time in the world.

"Wait for it..." His voice is barely a whisper, warm breath ghosting past your ear. His finger hovers over the trigger with the patience of someone who knows exactly what they're doing.

The poor soul at the cache has no idea what's coming. The air feels charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.

Then—bang.

The shot is perfect because of course it is. A splash of neon paint blooms on the target's back like some abstract art piece. They jump about a foot in the air, spinning around wildly.

"Dammit, Jeon!" The shout echoes through the trees. There's only one person who could make a shot that clean from such distance.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. Even Jeon's mouth twitches at the corner—the closest thing to a smile you've ever seen from him. For a split second, a gentle breeze wraps around you both like a shared secret.

You nearly jump out of your skin when Jeon's eyes suddenly meet yours. For a heartbeat, maybe two, neither of you moves.

It's... t̶o̶o̶ ̶m̶u̶c̶h̶ weird. The way his dark eyes seem to see right through you, how his hurricane wraps around you like you're in the eye of the storm. Too close. You're close enough to count his stupidly long eyelashes, to see the tiny scar on his cheek catch moonlight.

Then reality crashes back in. Jeon shifts away so fast you'd think you burned him, putting blessed distance between you. The barriers slam back into place—he's your superior, you're just some annoying ensign he got stuck babysitting during paintball. That's all this is.

You lean back too, trying to ignore the way your heart's still doing gymnastics in your chest. It's unsettling, this weird moment of... something. Not respect, definitely not that, but maybe a reluctant acknowledgment that there's more to him than just being an ice-cold asshole. The way he handled that shot, the focus in his eyes, the subtle pride in his posture—it's t̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶t̶e̶s̶t̶ annoyingly impressive.

Jeon's already back in sniper mode, all business again like nothing happened. But the air feels different now. Like the air has picked up speed, swirling with renewed intensity as if trying to blow away whatever just passed between you.

You watch him work, wondering when exactly you started noticing things like how his jaw clenches when he's concentrating, or how his fingers move with such precise grace on the trigger.

You tell yourself the shiver down your spine is just from the cold night air.

"I should leave." The words come out low, almost like he's talking to himself. He stands up, towering over you, a dark silhouette against the forest green. "Won't take long for them to tell V where I am."

"What, you scared?" The question slips out before you can stop it.

Since when does the great Jeon run from a fight? Especially with V?

"No." It's instant, defensive. His tone is laced with something like irritation. "With V, you play his game. I just landed a shot. He'll know exactly where I am the second he gets here." A pause. "That's why you're staying."

"I see." You answer automatically. Then your brain catches up.

Wait.

"Hold up—I'm what now?" The words come out sharp. "So I'm just bait?"

"Yeah?" He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, like he can't fathom why you're even asking. "You'll draw him out."

"Didn't you literally just give me that whole speech about 'making do' and 'real situations'?" Your voice rises with each word. "And now you're using your teammate as bait? Real nice. Guess I was right—you are a hypocrite."

"Sometimes sacrifices are necessary." His voice is cool, professional. "Plus, between us..."

He looks at you then, really looks, and something in your chest goes tight. Those dark eyes of his catch moonlight like black ice, beautiful and deadly. His stupidly long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, and when he blinks, it feels deliberate. Like he's giving you time to process what comes next.

"You're the expendable one. Here, and in real life."

"Fuck off." The words come out sharp and mean, exactly how you want them.

His eyebrow arches, silver beads catching moonlight like a warning. "Watch your tone."

You can feel the hurricane bearing down on you again. It sneaks through the cracks in your attire, scratching at the outer layer of your skin. It is oppressive, suffocating. Engulfs your whole being almost instantly, almost as if to blow you off balance.

"So you're really doing this?" Your voice cracks a little, caught between rage and something that feels too much like hurt. "Just leaving me here as bait?"

He doesn't even blink. Those dark eyes of his are cold and distant now, like you're just another variable in one of his calculations.

"It's strategic, not personal."

"Strategic." You let out a laugh that's more like a snarl. The thought of being nothing but a disposable piece in his game makes your blood boil. Being used by anyone would piss you off, but being used by Jeon? That's a special kind of infuriating.

He takes a step back from you now, creating physical distance as if he was uncomfortable. Maybe, somewhere under all that ice, he actually feels bad about this. But t̶h̶a̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶w̶i̶s̶h̶f̶u̶l̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ you're probably just seeing what you want to see.

"Stay low and keep quiet." His voice goes all authoritative again, his standoffish nature coming right back. "If V knows it's a trap, we lose our advantage."

You cross your arms, watching Jeon's figure fade into the shadows. Every cell in your body screams to call him out, to demand better than being left as bait, but...

What leverage do you have? The answer hits like a slap: absolutely none.

He moves like a ghost between the trees, that hurricane of his dissipating until you're left alone with nothing but forest sounds for company. His words echo in your head, each syllable of "expendable" burning like acid.

You try to shift position, searching for some way to sit that doesn't make your ankle scream or your pride hurt worse. Hard to do when you're officially demoted to bait in this stupid paintball game.

Stupid Jeon. How can he turn even mock battles into some grand strategic play?

Your jaw clenches. At least real bait doesn't have to deal with the indignity of knowing it's bait.

The forest is too quiet now, like it's holding its breath. You try to focus, to be the good little decoy he wants, but between your throbbing ankle and the rage simmering under your skin, concentration's a lost cause. Your thoughts spin like leaves in a storm, each one circling back to how much you want to punch that perfect face of his.

Then—something changes.

It's subtle. Just the slightest shift in the air, barely enough to stir the leaves. But every instinct you have lights up like a warning flare. You freeze, hardly daring to breathe as you strain to locate whatever's setting off your internal alarms.

That's when you feel it—thorny vines wrapping around your lungs, making each breath sharp and dangerous. V materializes from the darkness like he was born from it, moving with the kind of liquid grace that reminds you why he's chief of stealth. Before you can blink, cold metal presses against your neck—his paintball gun, a very pointed reminder of how screwed you are.

The speed of it leaves you breathless. Or maybe that's his thorny rose aura, squeezing tighter with each passing second. His mastery of stealth isn't just reputation—it's terrifying reality.

"Shh, shh, shh." His breath ghosts over your ear, playful and deadly all at once.

You hadn't planned on screaming, but the way his aura constricts around you makes you reconsider.

"Where's Jeon?" V's voice is barely above a whisper, but something in it makes your blood run cold.

You hesitate. Part of you wants to sell Jeon out—serves him right for using you as bait. But something in V's tone makes you think carefully about your next words. This might be a game to everyone else, but V... V plays different.

"He left me," you manage, voice tight. "Twisted my ankle."

The laugh that follows sounds wrong, like broken glass wrapped in velvet. His thorny vines squeeze tighter.

"Typical Jeon." The way he says it drips poison. "Once a traitor, always a traitor." There's history there, old wounds still bleeding. "Abandoning a teammate? That's cold, even for him."

The paintball gun stays pressed against your neck. Except... is it really loaded with paint? Your stomach drops as you realize you have no way of knowing. Not with V. Not when he's got that edge to his voice that makes you think maybe this stopped being a game the moment he spotted you.

Every instinct screams at you to run, but you're trapped between fight or flight, knowing either choice could end badly.

"He's not here then?" V sounds almost disappointed, like a kid whose favorite toy got taken away. "Pity. I was hoping for a proper reunion."

The gun against your neck suddenly feels a lot more real. You're not the target—you're just the bait. Again. Except this time, it's not just your pride at stake.

"Should've expected as much..." His laugh raises goosebumps on your skin. "No loyalty in that one, hmm? Makes you wonder what he'd do in a real bind. Leave you to rot, probably."

You stay quiet, letting V's poison drip. Each word feels calculated, like he's trying to infect you with his hatred for Jeon. His vines constrict tighter around your lungs with every syllable, and you can't help wondering what made these two hate each other so viciously.

"That's Jeon for you." The words drip with disgust, but V's smirking like this is all some twisted game. "Self-serving. Cold. Doesn't care who he steps on to get what he wants."

The way he's focused on his little villain monologue gives you an opening. Adrenaline floods your system as you make your move—one hard stomp on his foot. His yelp of surprise is almost satisfying.

You shove the paintball gun away from your neck, twisting out of his grip. For one glorious second, you think you might actually get away.

Then reality hits. Literally.

V moves like water, flowing around your escape attempt like he knew exactly what you'd do. Before you can blink, you're eating dirt, his weight pinning you down. The gun barrel presses cold against your forehead, and you realize just how badly you miscalculated.

"Not bad, dear." His grin makes your skin crawl. "But not good enough."

You're pinned, his weight heavy and his presence suffocating. His thorns dig deeper with each breath, and you can almost feel them cutting through your skin.

You're trapped, completely at his mercy, but damned if you'll let him see you scared.

He leans in close. "Let me give you a piece of advice." His whisper raises goosebumps on your neck. "Watch your back around Jeon. He's more dangerous than you think."

The warning in his voice sounds too personal, too raw to be just another mind game. Like maybe he's speaking from experience.

"Oh, I'm counting on it." The words come out steadier than you feel with V's weight pinning you down. You manage to keep your voice even despite the lack of oxygen making it to your brain.

Something flickers across his face—confusion, maybe suspicion. Those stealth instincts of his finally catching up, but too late.

SPLAT.

Paint explodes across V's back in a neon burst. His whole body goes rigid against yours, muscles freezing mid-squeeze. The look of pure disbelief on his face almost makes this whole night worth it.

When he turns to look over his shoulder, you already know what he'll see. Jeon emerges from the shadows like he was born from them, rifle balanced casually in those tattooed hands. Even playing paintball in the middle of the night, he somehow manages to look t̶o̶o̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶ irritatingly put-together.

He runs his fingers through dark hair, pushing it back from his face in a way that's probably supposed to look casual but comes off more like a shampoo commercial. The silver in his piercings catches moonlight, and honestly? It's just rude how he makes everything look so effortless. Like being unfairly attractive is just another one of his many talents.

V's weight disappears as he stands, and suddenly his whole demeanor shifts. The deadly predator from moments ago vanishes, replaced by that familiar chaos-loving trickster. His laugh rings through the trees as he claps, adorned with delight instead of danger.

"Bravo, Jeon!" V calls out theatrically into the forest shadows where Jeon now stands revealed. "Always hiding in the shadows like the snake you are."

Jeon's face is blank, but there's something razor-sharp in the way he moves

"Far better than always playing the fool to hide your incompetence, if you ask me." Jeon retorts sharply, ice crystallizing each syllable.

"Incompetence?" V's laugh has an ugly edge to it. "That's rich, coming from you. Can't even follow basic gang rules, but here you are, talking shit."

Something flickers across Jeon's face—too quick to catch, but his expression grows darker, more intense. Seems like V knows exactly where to stick the knife.

"A gang built on backstabbing might want to rethink its rules." Jeon's voice could freeze hell over. It's like the winds around him whip faster now.

"See, that's your problem." V tilts his head, a mischievous, lazy grin spreading all over his lips. "When I stab someone in the back, at least I don't cry about it after."

The smile he gives Jeon is pure venom—like he's referencing something that happened between them, something that left scars.

"Right." Jeon practically spits the word. "You only get emotional when you're the one getting fucked over."

They stare each other down, and you feel thorny vines trying to pierce through howling wind and rain. Finally, Jeon looks away first, shaking his head like he's trying to dislodge memories he'd rather forget.

Jeon's eyes find yours, and it's not concern you see there—more like he's doing some kind of damage assessment without having to actually ask if you're okay.

You don't give him the satisfaction of a response. He left you as bait, remember? Used you like some expendable pawn in his little game with V.

But something annoying nags at the back of your mind.

Because he did come back.

The moment breaks when Jeon looks away, that weird tension snapping like a rubber band. His typhoon-self settles back into its usual pattern as he stands there radiating smug victory. The paint splattered across V's back is proof enough of who won this round.

"That's it then. This round goes to me." He says it like he's commenting on the weather, not like he just outmaneuvered the most dangerous man in Kkangpae.

There's something almost boring about how he announces his win—no gloating, no pride, just checking another box on whatever mental list he keeps in that pretty head of his.

His eyes flick back to you. "Time to get you to the infirmary—"

"Let's not pretend you've suddenly gone soft, Jeon." V cuts him off, setting down his gun with this little head tilt that somehow manages to be both playful and threatening.

"Oh, please." The disdain in Jeon's voice is too evident. "She just needs to get her ankle checked, and it's not like she can walk there."

V steps closer, moonlight painting him silver. There's something otherworldly about him now—like some fairy tale creature that lures people into trouble with a smile.

"I'll take her to medical myself." His voice drips honey-sweet mockery. "Sounds more fun than whatever boring escort you had planned."

You watch Jeon consider this, weighing something in his head. After what feels like forever, he just... shrugs. Like he couldn't care less what happens to you.

"Sure." His voice is pure ice. "She's your problem now."

Then he just... walks away. No backward glance, no hint that he gives a single shit about leaving you with someone who literally had a gun to your head five minutes ago. The winds that seem to surround him dissipate with each step he takes, leaving you feeling weirdly hollow.

V turns to you with that signature grin of his—the one that's equal parts charming and concerning. He offers his hand with exaggerated gallantry, like some twisted prince charming.

He then scoops you up, bridal style of course because that's V for you, and you can't help but notice he's stronger than he looks. The transition from ground to air is smooth despite your resistance, but what choice do you have? Crawl to the castle?

Your eyes find Jeon one last time as V starts walking. Something in your chest twists when you realize he's not even looking back. You hate that you wanted him to fight this, to show something about handing you over to V. Your twisted ankle is his fault, after all.

But his face might as well be carved from stone. If he feels anything about this situation, he's buried it so deep even his hurricane can't dig it up.

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pinkpalaceblogs · 12 hours ago

Text

How sbsf!chris and bsf!LS met blurb! (?)

Warning! Mentions of underage drinking (dont do this!), cursing, sharing a bed for the first time. Lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i made up a fake school name bc im to lazy to look one up.

November 23rd, 2020 (we are just gonna pretend covid wasn’t a thing)

“Aren’t you supposed to be the older mature one?” You say as you half ass carry your sister out of the long awaited over hyped party thrown by one of the lacrosse boys. “God you fucking reek of cheap vodka” you add letting out a sigh.

“Y/n…. Did… did i ever tell you how much i looooove you!” She exclaims throwing her arms around your shoulders. “Yes many times but your drunk and I need to sneak you in before mom and dad realize im gone too and we both end up grounded.” Turning your sister to her side as you drape one of her arms over your shoulders and wrap ur arm around her waist.

Your struggling to even walk with how drunk she is. She finally takes you both down. “Goddamn lys, your too fucking drunk. You cant even walk straight. You cant go home like this.” You let out a huff brushing your hair out your face. Sitting in the ground contemplating life at this point. Your stuck you dont know what to do.

“Yo lys?! You good?” You hear a guy call out. Looking up you see him. Christopher Sturniolo. Sure you know of him. You know he’s friends with your sister, and some of the girls in your school have hooked up with him, you’ve just never met him in person or spoke to him. That also maybe because you don’t even go to the same school as your sister. You wanted a better education and talked your parents into letting you go to a private school.

Chris leans down and helps her up. It takes your sister a minute but once she realizes its him she lets out an excited squeal wrapping her arms around his neck “CHRIS! Where have you been?! Ive been looking for you all night… oh my god were you with one of your slu- okay kid your talking to much” he cuts her off. He looks over at you raising an eyebrow.

“And who are you?” He asks looking you up and down. “Y/n… Lys’ sister.” You answer bluntly. He looks at you like you have 3 heads. “OH YEA! Chris i forgot to mention it. Like ever but this is my sister y/n! Shes in a private school so shes like never home but shes home for thanksgiving break! And i missed her so much. You little shit why did you leave me here?!” She reaches out to you now crying stumbling causing you both to fall again.

“Fuck!” You yell out as she lands on top of you heads clashing together. “Lys get off of me dude. Cmon get up. You cant go home like this. Fuck am I gonna have to sneak you into grans?” You push her off of you standing up again. This time Chris helping you stand her up straight. “She can stay at my place. She usually does when shes like this. My parents dont mind. They always help make up an excuse when it comes to your mom and dad. You can stay too if you’d like.” He says draping lys’ arm over his shoulder looking at you.

“I dont know… shes like messy drunk… i wouldnt want anything to happen.” You say looking up at him. “Hey shes been to my house worse. She broke my moms favorite vase once. Its okay. You guys can sleep in my bed ill crash with one of my brothers.” He says as he looks around finally he spots a boy that looks just like him? Twin maybe?

“Yo Matt we gotta go. Project get Lys inside before she runs off is a go. I’ll start the car get Nick.” Matt sighs walking over looking at Lys “you really need to lighten up on the alcohol kid.” He says brushing her hair out of her face. “Nick went home already. Something about having to finish his project for the yearbook.” Matt finally looks your way “who’s this? Chris your not bringing a random girl back to- Nah bro its Lys little sister apparently” Chris cuts Matt off.

“Maaaatttttt I missed youuuuuu” Lys says giving the boy a peck on the lips your eyes widen Lys looks at you “y/n… remember the guy that i told you about that ive known for a very long time and thought he was cute and sexy and hot and i wanted to date him. Its Matt. Hes my boyfriend now. Been for like a year now!” She beams over at you grinning ear to ear.

“Ohhhh so your Matt, she talks about you A LOT. Didnt know you were brothers with him.” You say pointing at Chris “let alone twins” you add. They both snicker “Twins? Nah were triplets kid. The other one just went home early.” Chris laughs. Triplets?! “Hate to burst yalls convo but i reallllyyy have to pee and i wanna sleep in matts bed y/n can sleep with Chris!”Lys exclaims.

“Uhm no its okay. Ill just sleep on the couch. Im gonna follow behind you guys in my car.” You say pointing back at your 2018 Chevy Malibu. “No our mom would light us on fire if we let you sleep on the couch. Did you drink? How much? Chris can drive you.” Matt speaks up. “Ive had like 3 seltzers. I should be fine.” You say pulling your keys out of your bag. Chris snatching them out of your hand. “Yea im not letting my best friends little sister drink and drive. C’mon plus its better than driving alone” he shoots you a small grin.

The car ride was silent. The faint sound of pyramids by Frank Ocean playing in the background. “So what private school do you go too?” Chris speaks up breaking the silence. “Oh uhm i go to St. Marias all girls school.” You say as you dig in your bag looking for your phone. “Ahhh thats pretty far. Like a 2 maybe 3 hour drive from here?” He says “wouldn’t you know” you mumble back.

“What did you say?” He says looking over at you “I mean for it to be as far as it is from Somerville you sure do got a rep there.” You say. This time taking your seatbelt off and turning the light on in the car searching for your phone. “So youve heard about me?” He asks. Still looking for your phone you lean into the back over the middle console not really paying attention on how chris gots a full view of your ass.

He takes in a sharp breath looking back towards the road. “I mean its really not that hard to hear about you when all the girls on campus FOUND IT!” You cut yourself off in excitement turning back around and putting your seatbelt back on. “But yea all the girls in campus talk about you.” He lets a little hum. “What do they say?” He asks.

“I mean im sure you know, that your you know good at stuff.” You say scrolling through your phone. “What kinda stuff.” Hes nudging the answer out of you. You know he is. Your not dumb. “Im not answering that. Im sure you have context clues. Unless you’re some brainless jock of a senior.” You say shaking your head looking towards him. He lets out a little laugh.

You guys finally make it home and see that Matt and Lys have already beat you guys there. Heading inside tiptoeing up the stairs you walk into Chris’ room. He grabs a pair of plaid pants and a white tee and hands them to you. “You can change in here ill step out.” He says. “Thanks” you mumble back. After getting dressed you tell him he can come back in.

He grabs a pillow and a blanket off the back of his gaming chair throwing them on the floor. You assumed its for you so you kneel down. “What are you doing?” He says “going to sleep?” You question. “Nah you can sleep on the bed. Ill sleep on the floor.” He says “oh okay” you say getting up and climbing into the bed.

After about 30 mins of hearing Chris huff and puff and stir around on the ground you finally sit up. “Chris. Just sleep in the bed. I dont mind. Its yours anyways” you say. “Are you sure. I dont wanna make you uncomfortable” he says. “Yea just stay on one side ill stay on the other.” You say as you lay back down and turn facing the wall. He crawls in behind you. “Goodnight y/n” he says. “Yea goodnight Chris” you say closing your eyes. Drifting to sleep.

BOW!

I feel like this was very long idk. But update wooooooo.

🏷️: @grace-sturnz , @matts-girlfriend , @courta13 , @r0set0y , @chriss-slutt

#𝑠𝑏𝑠𝑓!𝐶𝘩𝑟𝑖𝑠 #𝑏𝑠𝑓𝐿𝑆!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑠

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