#i think she struggled but at the end of the day she loved nick and she would do anything for him

[thisisourlovestory]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

part 2- the chronicles of a stargirl and her sun masterlist

Luke Castellan x reader

Summary- the first full day at camp where slight drama unfolds and you make a new friend

Word count- 5.4k

Notes- thank you @imaginingmoonlight again for the vibe (I don’t know what else to call it) and I’d also like to say that I was actually inspired to write this series by @tangledinlove because the killerverse is amazing and I love it so also thanks to her otherwise I wouldn’t have done this.

Taglist:

@abbersreads @tenshis-cake

“We've just got to find out what you're good at first.” Annabeth explained as you walked beside her. “It might be that you are just really bad at using weapons but don't feel bad. You barely nicked him and he was standing in the wrong place so it was technically his own fault.” You winced.

“I didn't mean to, I swear, it just kinda slipped out of my hand before I was ready.” Annabeth grinned.

“At least you know to never try to throw a javelin when we do sports unless you want to skewer someone.” You glared at her.

“I'm glad someone is enjoying my embarrassment. I could have killed him! And then what would happen? Besides, I don't think that helped my prospects of making any friends here other than you.” She waved a dismissive hand.

“You'll make friends. It's just that you're new and the circumstances were interesting to say the least. Also it is spring so there are way less people here than there will be in summer.” You sent her an unimpressed look.

“You can't talk. Everyone loves you. I'll bet even Mr D doesn't hate you as much as the rest of us.”

“That is a lie. Plenty of campers don't like me.”

“Oh really? Name one.” You crossed your arms over your chest as she struggled to answer. “Didn't think so.” You said smugly as she stuck her tongue out.

“We've got to get to the armoury. It's time to try out sword fighting.” You paled.

“Can we not skip it?”

“Not a chance.”

Annabeth rummaged through a pile of swords. Occasionally picking one up to show to you and immediately putting it back down at your face. You wandered around the armoury, glancing every once in a while at Annabeth to check she hadn't cut herself accidentally. Finally she emerged from the pile, holding a sword triumphantly above her head.

“This one is perfect.” She held it out and you gingerly took it. The bronze blade was sharp and shining, the smooth metal cold to the touch.

“I don't see why I can't just use my knife.” She sighed.

“Because it's not made of celestial bronze so it won't kill monsters. Now get out there, I'll be out in a moment to teach you some stuff.” You trudged out and took your place on the sawdust, swinging the sword from side to side, letting the tip brush the floor lightly. Annabeth followed out quickly and got into position.

“Just try and land a hit on me.” You gaped at her.

“You want me to try and hit you?” She shrugged.

“It's a good way to test if you have a natural ability for sword fighting” Without warning she swung her sword forward and you lifted your own to block the blow.

“Not bad.” She swung again and you stumbled back slightly to avoid the hit.

“So I just kinda,” You swept the sword in front of you and Annabeth jumped back to avoid it, “Actually I think that works.” Annabeth slashed her blade through the air and you ducked, sweeping your own out in a wide arc, hitting her ankles with the flat side of the blade. She hissed at the sting and narrowed her eyes as you rose up and smiled. She rained down a flurry of blows on you and you blocked each one as well as you could, ending up with a multitude of tiny nicks on your arms. You rolled onto the floor to dodge a particularly well aimed stab headed straight for your neck and twirled the sword in the air before thrusting it forward to just under her chin. Annabeth’s eyes widened in shock before a grin took over her face.

“Not bad, but-” She grabbed the hilt of your sword and twisted, forcing you to let go and allowing her to poke you lightly in the stomach. “I win.” She handed you back the sword and you stabbed it into the ground. “Rule number one is never let up your guard, always be expecting an attack. It’s what keeps you alive. But for your first time you did pretty good. Better than most, and with a little training you’ll be able to beat me.” You hummed.

“Maybe. But the sword feels…wrong in my hands. Like I shouldn’t be holding it.” Annabeth frowned.

“We do still need to try out some other weapons. You might like them more.” She turned and walked back to the armoury, gesturing for you to follow her. “You’re doing archery later but for now grab some knives or daggers and try to throw them at those targets over there.” You did as she instructed and gathered a collection of bronze knives, carrying them over to a bench and dumping them on it with a clatter. You squinted at a target, judging how far the distance was and picked up one of the knives.

“Wait for me before you throw them.” Annabeth started but you had already tossed it up into the air allowing it to spin and then caught it and threw it full speed across the room. In a blur it hit dead centre. Annabeth looked at you surprised. “I guess you can throw.” You were already throwing more knives at the other targets, each one making a dull thudding as they hit home in the bullseye. You huffed and pushed your hair out of your eyes as you finished, sweat dripping from your brow, eyes sparkling with exhilaration.

“That. Was. Amazing!.” You exclaimed and twirled on the spot. “Did you see that? It was so cool.” She nodded, calculating, but you didn't notice. Too caught up in your own achievement.

“Yeah those throws were scary accurate for a beginner.”

“I think we've found what I'm good at.” She laughed.

“Not so fast, you've still gotta try out archery. And Luke is helping with that. He couldn't help now cause he had to supervise the climbing wall. Make sure nobody gets burned alive that kind of stuff. But he's taking you for your first archery lesson later, responsibilities that come with being head counsellor of the Hermes cabin. That and none of the current Apollo kids stay year round yet.” She rambled and you watched with an amused smile. “Anyway we have to get going for lunch, since it's not summer and there's not so many people we don't have to sit at designated tables like usual, if we did most people would literally just be sitting by themselves and that's just sad.” Your stomach rumbled and you glared down at it before looking up at her sheepishly.

“I'm apparently incredibly hungry so please lead the way.” She rolled her eyes and discarded her sword in a pile, kicked open the door and began the fairly long walk to the mess hall. You both trudged past the cabins where all the other campers were also starting to walk to the mess hall. There weren't many at all, about twenty across all twelve cabins, chattering happily to one another as they walked in a clump. Everyone sat down on random benches, presumably with their friends, and piled the food that appeared on the tables onto their plates in mountains.

There was a varied selection of food, all stacked in heaps so they filled up all the available space, there was something for everyone. Breads, cheeses and cuts of meat spread out for a buffet style meal, pots of soup, bowls with all kinds of pasta, rice and meat coated in sticky sweet sauces. There were even baskets stacked with fresh fruit surrounded by tiny bite sized sweets covered in sugar. Annabeth grabbed some food for herself and picked up some meat from a pile that stained her fingers red.

“Try this it's good, It's beef marinated in some random sauce and then cooked on the barbecue. Nobody actually knows what's in the sauce but it's kinda spicy.” She paused thoughtfully. “And it has garlic in it. I think.” She licked her fingers, getting rid of the red stain as you followed her advice and plated some of the beef along with rice and a warm bread roll dripping with butter. Annabeth immediately made her way over to the fire and dropped some food into it, you snatched up a bunch of grapes and followed suit. As the grapes fell into the flames you shut your eyes and bent your neck slightly.

“Hi, it's me, again. I don't know who you are but could you maybe send a sign or something. It couldn't hurt. Could it?” You mumbled and straightened up as smoke rose into the air smelling like every kind of food you could ever imagine.

“I really can see why they like burnt food.” You stated as you sat down next to Annabeth at a table. “It smells annoyingly good.” You took a bite of food. “And that's delicious as well.” She smiled, taking a bite of her own food.

“Told you so.” You both ate in silence, too occupied with savouring every bite that you forgot to ask any questions. All too soon the lunch break was over and Annabeth was directing you to the archery field.

“So you basically just follow the path past the Big House and he said he'd be waiting for you there and if you got lost he'd go and find you.” She turned around as someone called her name and yelled back. “Give me a minute.” She looked back at you. “Have fun and I'll see you later at dinner.” She spun on her heel and ran off as you did the same and walked in the opposite direction.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you walked through the woods, the trees shading you from the sun. Dust from the path floated in the air as you kicked the stones from it and into the grass, other campers passed you once or twice, attempting to whisper to each other about you and failing as their voices rang out like foghorns through the otherwise silent trees. You passed the Big House and caught Chiron watching. You waved slightly and continued without waiting to see if he responded. After a few more minutes of walking you arrived at the archery field to see the targets lined up and a selection of bows laid on the grass ready for use. You looked around and saw nobody. Not a single soul in sight. He's probably just running late, you thought, Annabeth said he was head of the Hermes cabin though so he must be busy taking care of something. So you waited. You sat down on the damp floor and fiddled around, picking blades of grass and twisting them around your fingers as tightly as possible before they snapped, plucking daisies, weaving them into a crown and placing it on your head. You even resorted to picking up one of the bows, subsequently snapping the string across your hand and leaving a raised red line across the palm of it. Then you settled back down, made yourself comfortable and placed your chin in your hand. You hadn't meant to fall asleep but the night before had been almost sleepless, tossing and turning in an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar people in some of the other bunks. So you somehow ended up drifting off with the warm heat of the sun on your back and a cool breeze blowing across your face.

You woke up just as suddenly as you had fallen asleep, an owl hooted softly and you realised it was growing dark. The sun almost completely set in the horizon, only a thin sliver of light peeking out from behind the trees. You got to your feet and began the march up to the cabins. It was most definitely too late for dinner but you remembered Annabeth mentioning there was a campfire tonight. You followed the smoke rising in the distance and the faint glow of the flames, tripping over the occasional dip in the ground and sliding over the grass. Shortly, you arrived at the campfire and Annabeth spotted you almost immediately, jumping to her feet and running over.

“Where were you?” She asked, an accusatory tone to her voice and a frown on her face. “I couldn't find you anywhere. And what is that in your hair?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” You mumbled, sitting down and reaching out for a stick; shoving a marshmallow onto it then holding it above the fire to toast.

“Did you suck at archery?” You laughed half heartedly at her question.

“I wouldn't know yet Annabeth.” She tilted her head and studied you puzzled before a look of understanding passed over her face.

“He didn't teach you any archery.”

“He didn't even bother to show up.” You corrected, pulling the marshmallow out of reach from the fire and blowing on it slightly as you grabbed two chocolate covered biscuits with the other hand and mashed the marshmallow between them. The chocolate melted, mixing with the gooey melted mess of marshmallow. You lifted it to your mouth and took a bite.

“And I don’t care at the moment. I just want to eat my smore. I forgot how good they were, do you want one?”

“No I already had some. I’ve been meaning to ask you, where did you get that hoodie from?”

“Oh it was waiting for me yesterday when I woke up. Probably just a spare one from lost and found since my clothes were ruined.”

“Right, lost and found.” Annabeth sat still for a second then grabbed your hand and dragged you around the campfire to the opposite side despite your protests.

“Why are you so freakishly strong?”

“I am not freakishly strong! And that hoodie, not from lost and found.” She stopped in her tracks as you looked at her confused.

“Huh.”

“Never mind, it’s just a hoodie. Now I have to have a little chat with Luke.” She continued to drag you until you both stood directly in front of him.

“Hey Annabeth.” Luke greeted her with a grin as he stopped talking to the people sitting around him. “What's up?”

“What's up?” She seethed. “What's up is I asked you to help earlier and you didn't want to so I pretty much begged until you said yes because I had something important on.” She took a deep breath and tears filled her eyes. “And then you didn't even do what you said you would.”

“Annabeth…”

“No don't,” She interrupted, “I don't know what exactly your problem is with Y/N since you seemed fine with her last night when she woke up but you're going to sort it out right now.” She punctuated her sentence by pushing you down next to him.

“Can we have a minute.” Luke said to the others and they all obliged, walking over to other people laughing and sneaking peeks back. “Annabeth, seriously why would you think I have a problem with Y/N?”

“You didn't want to help her, you made up fake excuses to get out of it and then you agreed but didn't follow through. So you have some kind of problem otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that.” She crossed her arms and you spoke up.

“Annabeth it's fine, really it's fine. I don't mind if Luke doesn't like me. It's not a big deal.”

“It's a big deal to me! I want you to be friends. And you'll be really good friends I swear. So can you sort out whatever is wrong and get along please. Ask each other some questions, get to know each other better. Say twenty each?” With that she ran back to the other side of the campfire to her siblings leaving you both staring after her in shock. After a moment Luke broke the silence.

“Where did you come here from?” You blinked and answered slowly.

“I lived in the UK until I was eight then moved to the USA because my parents got a job offer.” His eyes sharpened.

“Parents?”

“Yeah. I was adopted, I don't know who my real parents were. Suppose I might find out who one of them is someday though. How about you?”

“Grew up in Connecticut, ran away when I was nine.” You stared at him vaguely shocked. From everything you had heard from Annabeth, Luke was the golden boy and he had run away from home. It was hard to believe but the bitter look in his eyes quickly changed your mind.

“When you were nine. So you were homeless for how long?” He shrugged.

“Five years. But I'm here now, and I've got Annabeth and my half siblings.” You hummed and shuffled around on the log, crossing your legs and leaning forward on your hands facing him.

“How did you meet Annabeth?”

“Just before we arrived at camp, we were walking down an alley and she jumps out and almost knocks my head in with a hammer.” He laughed slightly. “We took her in and then we got here.” You tilted your head.

“We?” His expression changed immediately. “Don't want to talk about it. Got it.” He looked at you.

“Annabeth is my little sister. Not by blood but by choice. We’re family and it seems she wants you to be part of our family.”

“You are very close to each other having known each other for so little time.” He smiled slightly.

“I would say she’s easy to like but that’s not entirely true.”

“Yes she can be quite intense at times. And I’ve only known her a day, can’t imagine what she must be like once you’ve known her a bit longer than that.” You grinned at him and tilted your head. “Must be unbearable.”

“You get used to it. Annabeth is Annabeth, she’s smarter than everyone, always six steps ahead of everyone else, she’s an incredible fighter and along with that she’s stubborn as a mule. But I wouldn’t change anything about her because then she wouldn’t be Annabeth.” He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his clasped hands in front of him.

“I am sorry I missed your archery lesson. I didn’t mean to I just got caught up practising.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Practising what?”

“Sword fighting. I’m supposed to be the best swordsman in three hundred years and I need to practise if I ever want to go on a quest.” You hummed noncommittally.

“I suppose that makes sense.”

You turned to look at the fire. The flames a bright yellow, dancing up into the sky, twisting and turning, bright against the darkness of the night. Your eyes followed the smoke, whispers of grey spiralling up, up, up into the atmosphere.

“I can give you the lesson now if you’d like.” Your eyes widened in surprise as you turned to face him.

“You would?”

“It’s the least I can do to make up for skipping out on you earlier.” He quickly stood up and held out his hand. “Coming?” You smiled brightly and grabbed his hand.

“Lead the way Castellan.”

“Remind me why we're in the armoury again.”

“You need a good bow before you can shoot right. So here we are.” He raised his hands and turned in a circle. “Take your pick.” You rummaged through the bows, picking one up occasionally to inspect it. There were so many different styles, some smaller, some larger, some metal, some wooden, some decorated and ornate; others as plain as could be. The difference between being inconspicuous and wanting to show off. You stepped over to a crate and pushed off the lid, letting it fall on the ground with a bang. You shuffled through the few bows stored in the crate, disgust filling your face at the ostentatious designs.

“Do people just use these to look cool?”

“Some of the Apollo kids definitely do. But they can shoot with any bow and make the shot so it doesn’t really matter to them.” He picked one up and held it out. “This one looks like it’d fit you.” You scrunched your nose.

“It’s too…much. Yeah, it’s too much.” You slid over to another rack and pulled some off.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever find…” Your voice trailed off as you picked one up from the very back, pulling it out of the pile that it was buried under. The bow was a smooth crescent, dipping in the middle, covered with strips of leather, with slightly curved ends, pointed and dipped in silver. The wood was engraved with miniature flowers and vines, each petal painted delicately with faded colours of red, blue and purple, the vines thin lines of green weaving through them. Your fingers floated over them, tracing each petal's outline with a look of wonderment on your face.

“Well how about this one?” You snapped your head up quickly, holding the bow close to your body, Luke raised his eyebrows. “You good?” You cleared your throat.

“This one. This is the one.”

“Are you sure? This one,” He waved the one in his hand in the air,”Is particularly nice and actually new, made only a couple of days ago.” You regarded the one he was holding with disdain. It was plain, nothing that made it stand out. It could not have been more unlike the one you held tightly in one hand, fingers flexing around the leather grip.

“No. This is the one, it’s perfect.” He sighed.

“Alright then, I’m not going to argue with you. Follow me.” He walked outside with you behind and stood in front of a target, illuminated by the dim light from torches lit up around the edge of the field. He steadied an arrow. “You pull back, straighten your aim and release.” He let go and the arrow landed just outside the bullseye. “Your turn.” You fiddled with the bow, stroking the leather nervously and tapping the sharp silver capped ends. He smirked teasingly. “Come on then. Or are you scared you won’t be good enough at it.” You scoffed and stomped over to him, grabbing an arrow and nocking it, pulling the string taut to your cheek and narrowing your eyes at the target.

“First of all, you’ll never hit the target like that. Lift your elbow. And widen your stance.” You shuffled your feet. “No, not quite. May I?” You nodded. “You need to just,” He moved behind you and placed one hand on your waist, the other on your arm and kicked one of your feet to the side, “That’s better. Now,” He lifted your elbow up. “Fire.” He whispered in your ear, his warm breath grazing your skin. You sucked in a deep breath and let the arrow fly. You squeezed your eyes shut as it shot through the air and hit the target with a dull thud.

“Well look at that.” Luke murmured behind you.

“What is it Castellan?”

“Why don’t you open your eyes and see for yourself.” You hesitantly opened them and looked disbelievingly at the target, the arrow sitting in the middle of the bullseye. You took a double take, looking back at Luke and then back to the target.

“I did that? Me?” You whispered and Luke chucked quietly.

“Yeah you did but let’s try again. This time by yourself. Make sure it wasn’t just my expert skills that made you shoot like that on your first try.” He nodded to the target and you nocked another arrow, pulling back the string to your cheek with ease and letting it loose quickly, sending the arrow flying and splitting the wood of the previous one as it lodged just between the feathers.

“Not just your expert skills apparently.” His lips twitched upwards.

“Perhaps not, but I will need more proof.”

“Then I will give you some.” With that you fired a volley of arrows, each one landing so they formed a star when you finished. You stared proudly at your work. “How’s that for your proof?”

“That's pretty hard proof. You must be a natural at archery and my teachings clearly have nothing to do with it.”

“Your teachings have something to do with it. You got me that first shot. I’m just a quick learner, and lobbing things at targets is apparently my thing now.” You dropped the bow down carefully in the grass and turned around to look at him and added as an afterthought. “Except for spears. That did not go well.”

“I heard.” You winced and twiddled your thumbs.

“Yeah. Anyway thank you for this, you really didn’t have to.” He shrugged.

“Like I said, I wanted to make up for this afternoon and giving you a late lesson seemed the best way to do it.” You rolled your eyes at his words and threw yourself down on the ground, unbothered by the damp soil. Your hands rested on your stomach and the longer pieces of grass ticked your ears as you gazed up at the sky, the stars twinkled above, shining brightly like miniature diamonds. They decorated the night, small pockets of light in the deep blue sky, soon to give way to pure blackness but the stars would still be there.

You felt Luke lay down next to you and heard him ask you a question.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“What?” You asked back, turning to look at him.

“Your favourite colour. Annabeth said we should get to know each other so what’s your favourite colour?” You stared at him for a second and found nothing but truth in his eyes.

“I’m not sure,” You paused for a moment, “I like green a lot though. It’s pretty and there are so many different shades of it, some are more blue like the sea and others are more the colour of the trees. But you can find traces of green everywhere and I think that’s why I like it, it's not just some obscure colour that you can only find in clothes. It’s all around us, you’ve just got to look for it” You stopped, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, you weren’t really looking for that kind of long winded explanation were you.”

“No I don’t mind, it was interesting. Besides, I've heard longer explanations from Annabeth about why she had nutella on her toast in the morning rather than her usual jam.” You tipped your head to the side and laughed.

“And what was the reason for that exactly?”

“The first time she did it I believe she spouted some nonsense about it being high in fibre as well as having iron and calcium in it and also would give her more energy to deal with, as she put it, incompetent fools. However every other time she's done it she just gives me a look as if I'm completely stupid.” You muffled a snort at his indignant tone.

“She sounds like a middle aged woman called Susan or something. And for the record you are stupid.”

“I always thought she was more of a Theresa but each to their own and I’m not stupid at all thank you very much.” You snorted again and quickly covered it with a cough, composing yourself as he smiled smugly at the reaction he managed to pull out of you.

“So anyway, what’s your favourite colour?” You asked, shifting slightly to look at him better.

“Blue, a really clear bright blue, like the sky in summer, electric blue almost.” He answered decisively and you tapped your fingers together in thought.

“And how old are you?”

“Fifteen, you?”

“Fourteen. Why do you want to go on a quest so badly?”

“I need to prove that I'm a hero. And going on a quest is the only way I can do that.”

“Is it?” He faced you with a look of disbelief.

“Yes, if I go on a quest I'm a hero because I get glory from it, you don't get glory from sitting around at camp doing nothing. You have to fight for it so I need to go on a quest.”

“Right, sorry.” You murmured and looked back up at the sky, head resting on your crossed arms. “The stars are beautiful aren’t they.” You muttered. “I find it hard to believe they can only be found in such distant planes of the universe when we can see them right there in front of us.” You lifted a hand and traced a kind of w shape in the sky. “That’s Cassiopeia, the Queen, you probably already know this but she was the mother of Andromeda and was forced to sacrifice her to a sea monster due to her own pride when she boasted her beauty was greater than that of the sea nymphs.” You pointed to another cluster of stars. “And that’s Ursa Major,” You moved your finger again, “And that’s Virgo, the Maiden.”

“How do you know those constellations?” Luke asked quietly.

“My dad.” You smiled. “He taught me all the constellations and we would go stargazing together in the country whenever he had a free night. The first time he took me was when I was three and he said I asked for food every two minutes, after that he would always bring a picnic, sandwiches, carrot sticks, biscuits and little slices of cake with tea or hot chocolate in a thermos so I would never get hungry. And we would lie on a blanket and watch the stars, pointing out all the constellations we saw and naming whatever stars we could. On special occasions he would bring his telescope and let me use it so that I could see everything that was happening as closely as possible.”

“He sounds nice.”

“Yeah he is,” You whispered, “He really is.” You both went silent for a while, simply gazing up at the stars in peace and quiet, comfortable in each other's company.

After a while Luke stood up.

“We should get going, everyone will already be sleeping by now and we can tidy this all up first thing tomorrow.” You sat up and took his offered hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Thanks.” You leant down to scoop up your new bow. “I can take this back can't I?”

“It's yours.” He answered simply as he started to walk to the cabins with you hurrying to walk next to him.

“Thanks again for, y’know.” He glanced down at you.

“You don't need to keep thanking me, it was my fault for not showing up earlier. I was just making good on my promise to Annabeth.”

“Yeah but still, I appreciate it. Other people wouldn't have done what you just did.” You reached the semicircle of cabins and took a step into the Hermes one before you realised Luke wasn't following. You turned your head back to look at him only to find him looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You slapped your cheek lightly.

“No you just-” He stepped forwards and righted something on your head, brushing the hair back from your face in the process. “Your flowers were falling off stargirl.”

“Oh.” You breathed out, a hand rising to feel the flowers. “Thank you, I forgot I had them, I thought they would've fallen off earlier.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Stargirl?” He shrugged and offered a simple explanation before walking past you into the cabin.

“It suits you.” You smiled and made your way to your bed, quickly grabbing a top and pair of pyjama shorts before running to change into them behind the private screen set up in the corner of the cabin and then bouncing into bed. You lay there for a minute, staring up at the wooden ceiling, before you turned to face the empty bed next to you.

“Hey Castellan.” You whispered loudly and from the other side of the room he answered.

“What is it stargirl?”

“Are we friends now?”

“Nah, we're best friends stargirl, I don’t just teach anyone archery in the middle of the night. and don't think you can get out of this easily, best friends are for life.” You smiled into the darkness at the joking tone in his voice and answered with a hint of laughter.

“Wouldn't dream of it. I gotta say, it's nice to have a friend.” You hurriedly added, “Other than Annabeth and Maisie,” And turned over to the other side, “Goodnight Castellan.” You said and burrowed deep into the duvet. The last thing you heard was a soft laugh and Luke's voice saying.

“Goodnight stargirl, sleep well.”

Light pink sky up on the roof Sun sinks down, no curfew Twenty questions, we tell the truth You've been stressed out lately? Yeah me too

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #taylor swift lyrics #pjo tv show #pjotv x reader #pjo x reader

[runninriot]

Inspired by the prompt Love is saying "I love you" even when you're scared by @quinns-shadowy-arts for @steddielovemonth day 20

Give and Take

wc: 1737 | rated: t | cw: mentions of drinking and smoking weed | tags: Hurt Feelings (past), Fear of Rejection, Eddie realises he has a crush on Steve, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers

  

Eddie is just about to leave when Wayne calls after him. Tells him not to stay out too late and to say Hi to Steve. And then he ends how he always does, never lets Eddie go without:

„Love ya, son."

Eddie smiles, gives his uncle an affirming nod before making his way out of the door.

He's heard it so many times now, these words his uncle says so easily, and he wished he could do the same.

It's something Eddie struggles with a lot; telling people he loves them is generally scary as shit.

Because in his experience, to love means to hurt because loving always comes with a price, a piece of your heart you give away with no chance of getting it back.

He’s given away too many of those.

Gave a piece to his mother when he was six. Proudly holding up the card his teacher helped him write for mother’s day. “I love you, mommy” it said on the heart-shaped paper and Eddie smiled, toothless and wide. Got a dead-eyed glare in return when she threw it on top of a pile of unopened letters. Not saying a word, not even acknowledging his extra neat hand-writing or the colourful flowers he’d drawn on the back.

He gave one piece to Jenny in grade 6. The girl with the blue eyes and rosy cheeks who was always so nice to him. One day after school she took his hand and kissed him on the cheek. Eddie felt like flying, told her he liked her a lot, thinking she might feel the same. But Jenny just scrunched her nose, pure disgust written on her face when she told him “Eww, no. It was just a dare.”

He lost a large piece in high school, gave it to Nick. The pretty boy with the seductive smile who dragged him behind the bleachers and stuck his tongue down Eddie’s throat. The kiss was too wet and too sloppy but Eddie thought maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Let Nick push him to his knees and willingly opened up wide. Not once, not twice, it went on for a month. And Eddie felt wanted but apparently wanted too much when he asked him to be his boyfriend.

Eddie learned to keep his mouth shut. To keep the remaining pieces to himself.

-🖤-

Steve is already waiting in his car that’s parked outside the Munson’s home, waving happily when he sees Eddie step outside.

They’ve made plans to spend the evening at Lover’s Lake, have a couple of beers and maybe a smoke while watching the sunset.

They do that often, just hanging out together. Enjoying the long summer days and each other’s company.

It’s always nice to spend time with Steve because with him Eddie never has the feeling he needs to tone himself down. Can ramble and rant, can be as loud and impulsive as he naturally is without having to worry about scaring him off. Steve never makes him feel bad about himself, accepts Eddie as he is.

Being with Steve always feels right.

They get along. They’re friends now. And the more time Eddie spends with Steve, the more he understands him, sees him.

He’s vulnerable, like Eddie. Has had his fair share of people misjudging him based on what they see on the outside. Where people assume Eddie is scary and mean, they think of Steve as being strong but dumb. Where they think Eddie’s only interests are metal and nerd games, they think Steve’s life revolves around nothing but sports and girls.

But Eddie knows better. Knows all of Steve’s layers.

Sure, Steve does love his silly ball games (something Eddie will never understand) but he also loves to cook and bake. He hates the taste of ginger and is afraid of moths. He can’t sleep with his back turned to the door and he likes the sound of heavy rain pounding against the window. He hates to read but he loves to listen if someone takes the time to read to him.

Eddie cherishes Steve’s honesty. The way he’s not afraid to ask questions if he doesn’t understand something. The way he’ll tell you, straight forward, when you’re being unreasonable.

Eddie likes the way his eyes sparkle when he’s happy. Likes the way Steve snorts when he laughs really hard. Eddie likes the snappy tone he uses when someone (usually Dustin) gets on his nerves. He likes Steve's fierceness, and his courage, and how much he cares.

Liking Steve is easy because he’s a genuinely nice guy with a big heart who never lets his friends down and always gives so much.

Eddie feels lucky to have him in his life, would give everything to keep him there.

-🖤-

They are lying side by side on a blanket, their minds comfortably buzzed from the joint they shared, while the sun sets over Lover’s Lake, painting their bodies in a dark orange hue. A gentle breeze caresses their exposed skin, just a warm touch of air drifting over their sun warmed bodies.

It’s quiet out here, now that most of the people that came to enjoy a day at the lake have already gone home.

Eddie thoughtlessly turns his head to look at Steve who is lying there with his eyes closed, basking in the tranquillity of the moment. Calm and content, so still and at peace. So different from his usual demeanour – always alert, always a little tense, always ready to step in if someone requires his help.

He's... beautiful like that.

And suddenly it is like something snaps in Eddie's brain.

He can’t tear his eyes away, lets them wander over Steve’s soft features and the expanse of his body. Wonders, foolishly, what Steve’s skin would feel like underneath his fingertips, what it would be like to hold him, maybe even get a taste of his lips.

    Oh no. Oh fuck.

Something in his gut coils and twists, ripples through him like an electric shock wave when the realisation hits.

It was inevitable, really, and maybe deep down he already knew for much longer than he’d ever admit.

It’s a bitter truth to accept but the confession comes easy now that he allows his heart to speak.

He’s in love with Steve.

Can’t have him, clearly. But that’s just how it is. That’s always how it is.

Eddie turns his head back, eyes pinched close in frustration as he tries to breathe through the stinging pain in his chest. His heart pumps so fast it makes him dizzy, makes him feel a little like spinning on a carousel that’s going too fast.

    SHIT! Eddie thinks or did he said it out loud? Because Steve startles beside him and Eddie can feel him ruffling at their shared blanket when he moves.

   “Eddie? What’s wrong?”

Eddie looks back at Steve who’s suddenly so much closer than he was before –  brows pinched together in question, with small worry lines showing on his forehead, his face hovering over Eddie’s.

   “I just realised something,” Eddie answers too honest, doesn’t know where to go from here but he can’t find it in him to lie.

    “Oh,” Steve breathes out, his expression softening as the seconds pass. “Wanna talk about it?”

   “Uh, I- no. I’d rather not.”

The look Steve gives him shouldn’t sent him spiralling even more but goddamn does he look cute with that stupid smirk tugging at his lips.

Eddie wants to bite him, feels a deep red blush take hold of his face. Maybe he can put it off as a sun burn?

   “Who knew that the great Eddie Munson could be so timid?” Steve jokes and okay.

So much for trying to play it cool.

   “I’m not-“ Eddie takes a deep breath, “It’s just something I can’t tell you.”

Steve sits up and without being prompted, Eddie does the same. For a moment they just look at each other.

   “You know you can tell me everything.”

If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d think there’s something like disappointment ringing in Steve’s voice.

   “Yeah, hah, uh- not this, I guess.”

Eddie looks away, can’t hold Steve’s gaze. Nervously he starts to play with the rings on his fingers until a warm hand stops him, causing him to look back up.

   “Try me.” Steve’s voice is soft and Eddie knows he can trust him but-

    No.

He can’t. This isn’t worth losing him over. Eddie knows how this is going to go. He can’t give anymore pieces away.

   “I-“

Only now Eddie realises Steve’s hand is still resting on his own, his thumb gently rubbing circles over the back of it.

Steve has never touched him like this before, so tender it almost doesn’t feel real.

   “I like you a lot, Steve.” The words sputter out before he can even try to hold them back.

Eddie winces, tries to avert his gaze but before he can turn his head to the side there’s a hand on his cheek and a firm press of lips on his mouth and-

Eddie can taste weed, and beer, and the chips they shared. Steve’s breath is hot as he sighs into the kiss, his lips are plush and soft... they’re so fucking soft Eddie feels like sinking right into them.

He allows his eyes to flutter close as he deepens the kiss, wants more of the taste, more of Steve. His hands find their way to Steve’s hips, digging and pulling like he just can’t help himself, needs Steve closer.

They part when their startled laughter breaks the tension as Steve tumbles ungraciously on top of Eddie, looking down at him with glistening eyes.

   “Fuck, Steve.” Eddie feels giddy, breathless.

   “Yeah. Fuck.” Now it is Steve’s turn to blush.

Somehow their lips find their way back to each other, like it’s easy. And maybe it is.

Maybe it is easy because they both want it.

   “Want you, Eddie. Wanted you for so long but I was scared to tell you that I-“ Steve inhales shakily.

Maybe they both feel the same?

   “I love you, Steve.”

This isn’t just a piece. This is his whole heart he holds it out for Steve to take, hoping that this time, he’ll maybe get something in return.

Eddie holds his breath, feels cold sweat running down his spine as he waits for a rejection that never comes.

   “I love you, Eddie.”

#steddielovemonth #love is... #day 20 #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic

[sturniolowhore]

matt and chris fluff with anxious reader. matt struggles with anxiety and would be able to help reader with anxiety. chris has anxiety help experience from matt- just fluff and support 🧡💙

☁️ SWIM, WE'LL KEEP YOU AFLOAT

summary ⎯  reader has a bad day and finally ends up breaking when she's watching a movie with matt and chris (and basically what the request says)

warnings ⎯  mentions of anxiety, boyfriend!chris, bestfriend!matt, brief mention of bestfriend!nick, fem!reader, fluff, hurt and comfort

A/N ⎯ finally posting again!! thank you so much for 600 followers guys i love you so so much and i could not be more thankful. this request was the winner of the poll i did before but i will eventually be working on all of the requests so keep an eye out for them

i hope you enjoy <3

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

anxiety for her feels like drowning. the overbearing thoughts start to flow a stream of her body, swimming through her mind until they begin to consume her entire being. a lot of the time she tries her hardest to ignore it, pretending it doesn't exist so she doesn't spend too much time thinking about it. it comes and it goes and she hates it. some days she'll be completely okay, not a single worry in her mind, yet others she'll feel like her head is being dunked under water and she can't breathe.

today feels like one of those days. things keep going wrong and she's not sure how much more she can take before she just breaks down. it's small elements piling up on top of one another and forming this mountain of worries that she can't seem to remove from her vision. despite her anxious state, she attempts to act as though nothing is wrong.

her head is currently laid on chris' chest with his arm slung around her shoulder. she's watching a movie with him and matt seeing as nick has gone out with madi. she'd be lying if she says she's actually watching the scenes in front of her though. the voices of the characters are echoing in her head and she can't quite keep up with everything. she's starting to feel worse by the second and she hates it so much. she especially hates it because she doesn't have a reason to be anxious, her body has just decided to keep her on edge for no apparent reason.

she can feel her mind working itself into overdrive as every recent worry she has is starting to build up into a cloud of despair. her eyes remain glued to the tv screen but her attention is somewhere else entirely.

she honestly doesn't even hear anything when chris first speaks up, "you okay ma? you're shaking."

chris taps at her shoulder lightly when he doesn't receive a response and she snaps out of her trance, turning to face him and offering a weak smile in the hopes that he won't catch onto her emotions. luck seemingly isn't on her side because chris' expression conveys pure sympathy. he pulls her closer to him and she clings onto his torso, turning her head so her face collides with his clothed chest.

her actions result in her entirely missing the look of concern both matt and chris share. they're aware something is definitely wrong now but as always, they don't want to force her into telling them how she feels. that's something she truly adores about them and nick too, for that matter. they allow her to go at her own pace and she's ever so thankful.

a tear falls from her eyes but of course she's the only one aware seeing as her face is hidden. she feels weak and she doesn't want to cry, especially when she doesn't know why she's crying. regardless of what she wants though, the tears still fall and eventually start to create a damp patch on chris' t shirt. he frowns as he feels the tears soak through the material and he gives a wary look to matt yet again.

"hey, it's okay come on, lift your head up baby," he strokes her hair softly and watches as she hesitantly lifts her head, coming up with a slightly choked sob that breaks his heart into a dozen pieces.

matt, who was previously sat on the other couch, stands up and makes his way to the couch she's sitting on. he sits beside her slowly and reaches a tentative hand to touch her shoulder, grounding her for a brief second as she continues to cry.

"i- i don't even know why i'm crying," she manages to get out, feeling all sense of composure she's been trying to hold onto wither away.

"hey, it's okay, we all get upset sometimes," matt's gentle voice sounds through the air and she could not be more thankful for the people she's surrounded by.

"has it been like this all day?" chris asks her warily, wanting to know a little more so he can provide her with the best comfort she so deeply deserves.

she nods her head sheepishly, wiping furiously at the tears spilling from her eyes. chris instantly moves her hands and replaces them with his own, stroking the tears away in a much gentler manner. she can also feel matt rubbing circles against her shoulder which both feel extremely delicate in contrast to the rough, jagged thoughts in her head.

"okay baby, we're going to play a little game. can you tell me five things you can see?" chris interrupts her train of thoughts and she can't help but smile because she knows exactly what he's trying to do.

"um, your t-shirt, your chain, the tv, fuck i can't. i'm sorry," she cries louder, hating how she can't do such a simple task.

"it's okay. let me go first and then you can try?" matt suggests and she nods slowly, making him continue, "i can see you and chris, i can see the other couch, i can see the tv and i can see my phone. can you try for us?"

"i can see chris, the wall, the mantlepiece, um- the table and the tv," she says ever so slowly but chris or matt don't make so much as a single comment about her taking too long; they simply wait patiently and continue to encourage her to keep going.

"there we go, i'm so proud. now four things you can feel. want me to go first?" chris asks and after a small sob escapes her lips, she nods her head in response.

"i can feel your pretty face on my chest, i can feel my chain on my neck, i can feel the couch and i can feel your hair tie on my wrist. come on ma, what are you feeling?" his voice is soft, so fucking soft and she wants to melt into it.

she hesitates but tries her best to overcome it and speak again, "i can feel your hand in- in my hair, matt's hand on my shoulder, the couch and uh- um..."

"slowly, only more thing. i can feel the pillow, can you feel it?" matt asks her, knowing she can certainly feel it.

she smiles at him, "mhm and i can feel the pillow."

"there we go, three things you can hear? oh that's a fun one," chris prompts her and she laughs lightly at his comment.

"the movie, my breathing and-" she stops, thinking and then smiling when chris starts to hum gently, "and your humming."

"you're doing so good," matt reassures her and she finds herself starting to relax more and more as the seconds pass.

"so good baby, i'm so proud of you," chris continues to comfort her softly with his hands, making her lean into his touch seeking the familiar sensation.

"two things you can smell?" matt queries, finding himself more relaxed at the fact that she's calming down too; he knows exactly how anxiety can get and he hates that she has to go through it when she's such a pure and loving individual.

"my perfume and i- i think chris' chapstick," she laughs with a little cough and chris rubs circles on her back lovingly.

"we're almost there ma, i just need to know what you can taste," chris tells her, smiling at her to show her that what she's feeling is allowed and that it doesn't change any feelings he has towards her like she fears it will. if anything, her strength makes him love her even more than he already does.

"i can't really taste anything..." she points out and chris thinks for a moment before an idea settles in his head.

"sorry matt," he says and before matt can question the apology, chris shortly but sweetly connects his lips with his girlfriend's before pulling away with a sheepish smile.

she shakes her head at him and laughs when matt playfully rolls his eyes. she licks at her lips and turns back to chris, "i can taste your chapstick."

"good job baby, i'm so proud of you. we love you so much," chris repeats like it's a mantra and she feels so much more calmer due to the brothers' love and comfort.

"you okay?" matt and chris ask her softly at the same time and she just feels so loved, so seen and she almost gets the urge to cry again but not because she's upset, rather because the people surrounding her make her feel ever so lovely and eased.

"i'm okay," she replies and she's so happy when she takes in the fact that it's genuinely the truth.

the lump in her throat has disappeared and her heart appears to be beating at a regular rate once more. she silently smiles to herself, still leaning into chris' touch and indulging in matt's casual chatter. everything feels normal again and she's beyond grateful. her head feels like it has been lifted from the water and suddenly she feels like she can swim again.

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

tags: @mattslolita @sturniolololover @mattsleftnipple03 @that-general-simp

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #fem reader #sturniolo #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets #chris x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #platonic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #best friends #boyfriend #sturniolowhore

[luveline]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve doesn't really like the holidays, but he likes you. So, he makes some concessions. Rainbow lit, tinsel-covered, pine tree-smelling concessions.

6k words, christmas centric, fem!reader who celebrates christmas, mutual pining, gingerbread houses, mistletoe, ugly sweaters, friends to lovers, idiots in love, allusions to s4.

❆

Steve hates Christmas. He doesn't want to get into it and he won't, not when you love it the way that you do — quietly, and yet every movement hints at your excitement. 

Your hands are basically shaking when he lugs the new box onto the desk. It's adorable. 

"Thank you for doing this," you say, meeting his eyes and sending him one of your too-nice smiles. Kind that makes him nervous and sick and excited all at once. 

"I don't know why you're so eager. They're the same cheese-fests this year as last year," he says.

You lean over the counter enough for him to smell your perfume. "That's not true. You said you have The Christmas Star, right?" 

"Ten whole copies." 

He pulls open the cardboard box and digs for your desired tape. The case is cardstock and crisp with newness, and it squeaks as he pulls it up and displays it against his chest. 

You beam. "Yes. How much? Expensive 'cos it's new?" 

"Not with the employee discount," he says, placing the tape down neatly. 

Your smile turns shy. Steve has always thought you were pretty, in the same way he thinks that grass is green and stars shine at night, but lately you've turned to a sweetness that has his teeth aching if he thinks about it, all manner of terrible emotions flooding his idiot brain. Jealousy, protectiveness, and — he shudders — affection. Even now he's tempted to round the desk and make up an excuse to touch your arms, or your hands. Your face. 

"Thanks, Steve," you say softly. 

"Of course. There has to be one pro to working in this dump, right?" 

"Is it a dump? It looks super clean." 

He hesitates. "We had to fix it up. Holiday decorations are coming in tomorrow." 

"Make that today!" 

You both turn to see Robin struggling out of the back room, two boxes held in her arms and hiding her face. She stumbles to the desk and Steve leaps to help her, unveiling her grinning face. There's a meanness to her eyes that Steve abores. 

"Well, yesterday. Keith says they got here last night, which means today is officially the first day of Family Video Christmas." 

"It's November," Steve says, narrowing his eyes. 

"Thirty first!"

Robin pries open one of the huge boxes and thrusts both hands in unafraid, pulling out streams of green and silver tinsel like festive innards. Her eyebrows jump up. "Nice," she says appreciatively. 

"I almost wish I worked here." 

"You can stay and help," Steve says. 

Your laughter makes his chest hurt. "I can't. I have decorating to do all by myself next door." You straighten your Palace Arcade polo and your black, plain skirt. "Do I look okay?" 

Steve has a terrible lapse in judgement wherein he thinks about telling you exactly how you look, lips pressed together ready to make a 'b' sound, but he stops himself in the nick of time. Friends don't really do that. 

"You look fucking adorable," Robin says, having wrapped the tinsel around her neck in a makeshift scarf. She sparkles as she turns to Steve. "Doesn't she?" 

"Adorable," he says tightly. 

You scratch under your ear. "Thank you.” 

You promise to come back at the end of the day for The Christmas Star and escape before Robin can poke fun at your shyness. 

The door closes behind you and Steve buries his face in his hands. His cheeks are hot. 

"That was pretty bad. Better, though," Robin says, an air of genuineness about her that he knows she doesn't truly possess. 

Steve scrubs a hand through his hair, temper welled to the surface quick and uncomfortable as usual. He pushes it down and turns away from Robin and the glaringly bright Christmas decorations rather than say something snappy that she doesn't strictly deserve. 

"Maybe by Christmas you'll be able to look her in the eye." 

"Maybe by Christmas I'll have friends I actually like." 

"Points for quickness," she cheers. Steve can feel her moving to stand beside him. "But ultimately weak." 

"It could happen." 

"Could it?"

He rolls his eyes and starts to log The Christmas Star under his name for you. Employees get pretty good privileges, like reduced rates and nulled late fees. You could keep it 'til the 25th, if that's what you want. 

Robin drapes tinsel over his shoulders. "I really, genuinely think that, despite your bad posture, your hair, your clothes," — Steve scoffs — "and your dismal taste in movies, she likes you." 

He's so distracted by her (mostly) joking insults that he doesn't quite hear the end. Then, when it sinks in, his incredulity lends itself to a new target. 

"What?" 

"Steve," Robin says flatly. 

"She likes me?" 

"I think so. She's not coming in here every day for me." 

"How should I know? I'm not exactly a good judge of it." 

Robin taps her foot against his. They're overly familiar if not overly affectionate friends, and he relents in his bad mood, pulling the tinsel from his shoulders with a dejected sigh. 

"I doubt it. She was excited about the new movies." Not me. He doesn’t think you'll be back tomorrow.  

"Why aren't you excited?" Robin asks.

"You know I don't like the holidays." His agitation is clear in his annoyed hand gestures, fingers furling and unfurling. "Weeks of torture. Cranky moms walking around like somebody shoved a candy cane up their-" 

"Steve, that's like, ten percent of the holiday season! There's a bazillion other things to like about Christmas." 

He snorts. "Like what?" 

—

Steve doesn't know how she managed it, but Robin has someone orchestrated the older gaggle of their friends to sit down anywhere but next to him. When you arrive, late and full of abashed apologies, the only seat empty is the chair to his right. 

You collapse beside him and the December chill outside follows you. Cold emanates off of your clothes. You peel out of your black denim jacket and press the back of your hand to his. 

"Cold, huh?" you ask. 

He swallows around nothing. "Cold." 

Your touch lingers. If he were your boyfriend, he'd take your cold hands in both of his and blow on them generously. He'd rub your stiff knuckles until they were loose and your fingers limp. 

Robin opens her arms and a half a dozen boxes clatter into the middle of the table, upside down and on their sides. Steve turns his head to read the font, and then promptly sits up. 

"No," he says. 

"Steve," Robin pleads, already turned away to retrieve a wicker basket full of candy. "Don't be a loser." 

"Too late," Eddie says, painted nails digging into the cardboard flap of his box. 

"You don't want to make one?" you ask Steve. 

"Gingerbread houses are a little elementary school, aren't they?" Steve turns to Jonathan imploringly. "You agree, right?" 

"No," Jonathan says with a laugh. "Me and Will still make them every year. El's getting good at them, too." 

"Will made one with a door that opens last year," Nancy says, pride for her boyfriend's brother clear in her pert smirk. 

Steve rolls his eyes. "That's good for him, and I mean it, but why are we doing this? Tell me there's beer, at least." 

"Yes!" Eddie cheers, slapping his thigh. "Harrington, you're finally saying something I can get behind. I have a little something extra in the van, just say the word." 

"There's beer," Nancy says emphatically. 

Eddie pretends to die in his chair. You giggle like crazy at his dramatics and set about opening your box, fanning gingerbread walls and roof panelling out over the table. 

Steve feels old resentment for Eddie bubble up like it never left. He wants to be the one who makes you laugh like that, all sweet and secret like you're trying not to make a fuss but you just can't help it. The resentment fades when you reach across from him and open a second box, laying supplies out in front of him one by one. 

"I think we should be a team," you tell him. 

"That's not fair," Eddie says.

"Can it, Munson-"

"We can all be teams," Robin says, returning with a blessedly cold six pack, three piping bags, and a handful of metal tips. "You two, me and Eddie, Nancy and Jonathan." 

Steve doesn't miss her suggestive eyebrow wiggle, and neither does anybody else. You turn to Steve in confusion. He shakes his head vigorously in a rapid and untrue show of I don't know, arm weaving under yours to bring your attention to the bigger piece of gingerbread. "This is the floor, right?" 

Steve’s surprised by how good of a team you turn out to be. Your gingerbread house takes shape slowly. Steve holds the pieces in place and you apply the icing seams like caulking, smoothing the lines out with your index finger and licking it clean. You’re a picture of happiness, happy jabbering interspersed between singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio and warding off insincere insults sent your way. 

"My grandma can decorate better than that, and she's pushing ninety. She has glaucoma."

“Cut the shit talking, Eddie,” you warn, flicking him with a jellybean. It hits his neck, and his retribution comes in five more aimed at your gingerbread house. 

The sides wobble unsurely.

Steve frosts the roof, assuming it’ll be easy. It isn’t easy at all, and soon any cuteness you’ve made is ruined by his ugly hatching. He winces, then frowns, then glares, eyebrows furrowed in agitation. 

Jonathan and Nancy are the ones to beat. Both nerds, both neat. Jonathan’s an artist and it’s obvious he does this every year, their house made up of pretty white swirls and gem decorated doors and windows. They're bantering quietly, insincere declarations that make Steve jealous — not of Jonathan, exactly, but of their relationship as a whole. They fit together in a way Steve and Nance never had. They’re effortless. 

Robin and Eddie make a good go of it, surprisingly. Steve had expected Eddie to throw the competition before he could lose, and hates to be proven wrong. Dorks combined with too much imagination, their gingerbread house has become a sort of macabre scene with a dead gingerbread man outlined in the snow surrounding, and icing stalagmites rise under the roof’s overhang.

You pull your chair in as close to Steve’s as you can, your knee pressed into his thigh and your elbow glancing off of his bicep every time you place a jellybean.

“There,” you say, pulling back. “That looks awesome, doesn’t it?”

It’s a hot mess. Unbalanced, too much icing on one side of the roof and not enough on the other, you lean back into Steve’s chest, your skin to his skin and your hair smelling of jasmine, appraising the work you’ve made just as it begins to fall apart. The weight of the roof becomes too much and the walls split either side of one another, in both slow motion and fast. Steve sees it happen incrementally, and it’s too quick to stop. 

Your gingerbread house collapses. 

“Fuck,” Steve says. “Fucking fuck.”

You get second place. 

“It looked good when it was actually standing,” Nancy reasons, her lies obvious in her raised pitch, her queasy shifting. 

“It did,” you agree. 

Steve’s self-loathing abates ever so slightly. 

“Pity win,” Eddie says with a cough. 

You laugh like crazy, and Steve decides gingerbread houses are for kids. 

—

After the gingerbread house disappointment, Steve thinks things cannot get worse. He is swiftly proven wrong. 

It's his turn to host a party, Robin's idea, and Christmas crawls ever closer. When he closes his eyes at night he can see the faces of every annoyed mom asking for The Christmas Star. Carols play in his ears unbidden. He finds himself humming songs he hates out of nowhere and clamping his mouth shut hard enough to chip a tooth every time. 

You love decorations, and so he and Robin have spent the last hour making his big empty house something fit for a rom-com, wreaths and tinsels and rainbow flashing lights. You love Christmas music, and so the stereos dialled to a cruel thirty in preparation for your arrival. You love cookies, and so, to Steve's amateurish expense, plates of sugar cookies line the kitchen countertops, along with all the finger foods one could ever desire. 

Though in Steve's case, that's none. He hates Christmas parties, reminded of his parents' misaligned efforts to earn favour with equally pompous parents. He and Tommy would hide out in backyards with stolen booze, and when that got too cold they'd shuffle inside, warm in their chests and numb in their fingers. 

He frowns at the memory and wizzes it all away. Tommy was an asshole. Steve was an asshole, he still is. This party isn't for his parents. 

It's for you. 

Not that anyone can ever, ever know. 

"What do you think?" Robin asks, pulling at the edges of the sweater she's changed into. 

It's a movie reference he should understand, but doesn't. "I love it." 

She smiles. Rare for them to operate above dry sarcasm and quick wit. Christmas makes Robin squishy, like she's forgotten how shitty the world is, and Steve wants her to have a good time tonight. This includes being nice (which he should be more often, anyway). 

"Go change. She'll be here soon."

"Who, Nance?" 

Robin tips her head back. "Oh, yeah, Nancy. Definitely who I meant." 

He flips her the finger, putting an end to their Christmas niceties. She's still laughing as he climbs the stairs and barrels into his room. He doesn't bother closing the door even as he hears the doorbell ring. The pizza should be getting here around now. 

Steve doesn't rush. He’d left cash on the countertop. Robin can deal with it. 

He ducks forward and pulls his polo up the length of his back, hair puffed out like a cloud. He'd set aside his ridiculous reindeer sweater on the top shelf of his closet. Or, at least, he'd thought he had. He searches once, twice, and then gives in to his short temper and drops his face into his hands. 

Stupid Christmas. Stupid sweater. Stupid party.  

He hears your inhale like a whisper. Breath caught in your throat. 

"Steve," you say, sounding surprised. 

It's his room. He's not sure what's so surprising. 

You're standing in the doorway looking angelic, all things considered. Your features softened by powder, wearing a white Christmas sweater with dainty beaded snowflakes and a plaid skirt. You look pretty, and Steve's not one for dramatics but he wishes he was dead. 

"You look nice," he says pathetically. 

"You, too," you say. You clear your throat. "I mean. Uh-" 

"You okay?" he asks, pushing hair out of his eyes. 

Your smile falters. You look at his naked chest. Steve worries he's making you uncomfortable and turns as nonchalantly as he can to his closet again, says, "I can't find my sweater. It's…" He lifts a bundle of jeans up. "Horrifying." 

"I can help." 

You step into the room. Each footstep silent, you've already discarded your shoes. He looks down to your stockings and then up again, ignoring the blush that wants to emerge at the sight of your thighs. 

"It's brown, and it has a weird red thing hanging off of it. Rudolph's nose." 

You step close enough that he can feel the heat of your arm and run a hand down the shelves. It takes a couple of seconds at most and you've found it, pulling it from the pile carefully. He loves the way you move, each inch deliberate. 

You press the sweater into his chest. His hands come up, his fingers cover your own. 

When he's with you, Steve feels as though everything — every movement, every moment — is broken down into its finest details. He thinks he could draw your fingerprint if asked, each miniscule line embossed into his skin as you touch him. 

"Steve?" 

But that's ridiculous. 

"Thanks. I think I got tinsel in my eyes or some shit," he mutters, averting his gaze.

"You're welcome. Robin sent me to see what was taking you so long. I'll tell her it was a Rudolph related crisis." 

You stroke his arm. 

He loses his shit internally, hand reaching for your retreating figure as you turn your back. He doesn’t know why. Maybe he would’ve kissed you.

"Steve?" you ask, now standing in the doorway. 

He recalibrates, muddled. "Yeah?" 

"Get dressed,” you encourage. You give him a short smile, blinding, and laugh quietly as you leave. 

He's hopped up on hope as he gets dressed, a smile plastered over what had felt to him like a seasonal scowl. He's no idiot; arm-touching, your tinkling laughter. Maybe his crush isn't as hopeless as he'd thought. 

He smooths down his hair for much longer than necessary, listening as the door opens and closes and opens again, friends trickling in with happy hellos and complaints about the weather. It's cold but too wet for snow, and evidence of it trails in from the front door through the hallway where shoes lie discarded in clumsy pairs.

He picks over them and finds his friends, ones he made willing and otherwise, draped over his living room like old throws. Max and Lucas have stolen the couch where they sit laughing, clearly gossiping about something. The rest of the lunch club stick close by, bowls of snacks already claimed and in cross-legged laps. 

"Steve," Jonathan says, "what the fuck is that?" 

"Fucker," Steve says. He's the butt of too many jokes, then, and he glares at Robin even as she plates him some still-warm pizza. 

"Sorry," she mouths. 

You curl up on the couch next to Max. He appreciates the unlikely friendship you've formed, sort of a sistership. You only know her through Steve but he genuinely thinks you'd pick her over him, and that makes him like you more. 

That's all he does, lately. Finds new ways to fall in love with you. 

"That is the ugliest sweater I've ever seen," Max says.

Fucking Christmas. 

—

Steve's been in a bad mood since he came downstairs, and you're not okay with it. Despite your shameless meltdown in his bedroom at seeing him shirtless, you don't quit. You spend some time with Max on the couch, and when she seems a little less agitated you track him down. 

He's definitely hiding. 

"I think Max's glasses are hurting her nose," you say. 

Steve looks over his shoulder at you, and he smiles, the slopes of his face kissed by the open refrigerator light. "They'd hurt anyone. The lenses are like, five inches thick." 

“Poor girl,” you mumble, more to yourself than him. 

He turns back to the fridge and pulls out a two litre of coke. “You want a drink?” 

You shake your head. His hair looks incredibly sweet from this angle, and you don’t mean that in a condescending way. It curls toward the bottom of his neck, that tiny bit too long compared to his usual cut. His neck moves as his head swivels, and there’s ligaments, there’s muscle, the bump of his Adam’s apple, all of it commanding attention. You think about stepping forward to touch him, his neck, to curl your finger around the side of his throat and hold him in place. If there’s one thing about Steve lately, it’s that he’s always fucking moving. He can’t sit still. He looks between you and the empty glass in question, twice, a third time. 

“I don’t read minds,” he says eventually, near pleading. 

You decide some flirtation is in order. 

“I’m glad you can’t,” you say lightly, crossing what’s left of the kitchen tile between you to stop at his side. You pretend that you’d wanted a drink, taking a glass down from one of his cabinets so he can fill it for you. Something he could’ve done himself. You hope that’ll be clear enough for him — the blatant want to be close. 

It isn’t, unsurprisingly. 

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, I think…” You lower your voice,a private confession. “That sometimes what I’m thinking, it might be- Uh, telling.”

Poor Steve. That hadn’t come out anywhere as smooth as you’d anticipated. It’s harder to tell him now you’re confronted with him, his every detail. And Steve, sweetheart, angel Steve, he misses the mark. Forget different pages, Steve’s reading a separate chapter, and your flirtation reads as a deeply unromantic confession. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asks. 

“No,” you say. “Of course not.”

His eyebrows jump and his forehead crinkles. “You sure?” His protective tone melts into something softer. “Let’s hear it, whatever it is.”

Steve isn’t patient. You know that about him. His temper is short and fierce. You like how hot he runs, love his agitated pouting and his dark-eyed scowls — he’s handsome in every expression. 

He isn’t patient, but he tries. He’s kind, and if you wanted to sit and talk about the hypothetical that isn’t bothering you, he’d listen. 

“I actually wanted to ask if everything was alright with you,” you say gently. 

His hand wobbles, fastening the coke cap. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I’ve noticed you don’t really like Christmas.”

He smiles, and soon the smile catches, a shy lip bite that has you fighting with your hands to keep them where they hang at your sides. 

“You got me.”

Steve pushes the twin glasses of coke back and then turns around, resting the small of his back against the countertop. You step in front of him without thinking, head ducked to catch and keep his eyes. They’re such a lovely brown, light and earthy, potted with white dots from the fluorescent kitchen light like falling snow as his eyes slip down. You swear, Steve is looking at your lips. 

“Is there something I can do?” 

It’s a terrible time to ask because you genuinely mean it, you’re not just trying to cop a feel. He doesn’t smirk or laugh as you’d thought he would, he only smiles. 

“Thanks, but I’m good.” He tips his head back, criminal, neck arched and ever-enticing. “Fucking sick of this itchy straight jacket,” he groans, pulling at the collar of his sweater like he’s hot. 

He is hot. You’d both benefit from a sudden winter breeze. 

His head drops, eyes lit with confusion. “What? Something on my face?”

“Something,” you agree. 

You look behind you to check what you’d thought you’d seen was truly there. When it is, you turn back to Steve with a feigned concern. “Here, come step into better light.”

You hurry into the doorway, frowning. 

Steve frowns in turn and follows you. You give the game away without meaning to, looking up at the sprig of mistletoe pinned sloppily above you. 

He sees it. He lights up. The happiest he’s looked all month, Steve scrubs a hand over his face and into his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he comes to meet you. Your stomach flips with excitement, because oh shit, he looks like he wants to kiss me. 

“Butler, I’m in need of one of your finest cokes, please.”

Oh, no.

Eddie bounces into view with a certified shit-eating grin, hair decorated with tiny metallic baubles. His sweater is surprisingly normal, a black and white knitted affair with reindeer and snowflakes. 

He comes to a stop beside you. “What’s happening?”

Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look-

“Shit, hey! Mistletoe.”

Eddie opens his arms. You sigh, to his delight, and lean in so he can give you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You try to look at Steve and find your view blocked by a mass of hair.  

“Wow, sweetheart. And I thought we were friends,” Eddie says good-naturedly. 

You scrunch your hand in his sweater to push him away, not unkindly. Guilt gets the better of you and you pat the place over his heart. “We are.”

He makes a kissy sound and dives in toward your neck. Startled, you squeal, stumbling away from his rabid affection and back into the kitchen. He follows, though he doesn’t try anymore kisses. 

“Harrington! I wasn’t joking about the coke. Can I-“

“Help yourself,” Steve says. 

He sounds miserable. 

—

There isn’t time or opportunity to smooth things over with Steve that night. Actually, a week becomes two, and neither do you kiss nor talk about kissing. You want to explain to him what he probably already knows — you really had been standing there for him, hoping for a kiss, a proper kiss. 

He’d looked crushed. You don’t use the word lightly. Steve looked as though somebody had stepped on his chest and pressed all of their weight against his ribs. Frazzled, unhappy. You can’t get the look out of your head, and Christmas doesn’t feel so cheerful with the gap that yawns between you, an icy crevice. 

You try to explain and things get in the way. At the video store, you show up with a plate of apology cookies hoping for a second chance and suddenly the radio breaks and gets stuck blaring ‘Here Comes Santa Claus’ like a storm siren. You meet up for games night with a twig of mistletoe in your purse hoping to be a tad more brazen about it and he sits on the opposite sofa, doesn’t take any pee breaks, effectively foiling your plan with inactivity. You ask him out for hot chocolate over the phone and he can’t come. 

“My parents are flying home. I gotta pick ‘em up from the airport.”

You don’t know whether he’s lying or not. His parents actually being home feels outlandish. If he is lying, he doesn’t want to see you, and if he doesn’t want to see you… 

He doesn’t like you. Not the way you like him. 

You worry you imagined the whole thing, his enthusiasm, his starry eyed smile. 

So you’re giving it one last shot. If it doesn’t work you’ll spend your Christmas heartbroken and sulking, but if it does you might actually get to kiss him. It’s a huge thing, and your hands are shaking with more than the cold as you bump up the small step to Steve’s front door. 

The green wreath hanging below the peep hole jitters as you knock, a fragrant twining of pine and cinnamon sticks. 

The door opens all at once.

“Hi,” you say, biting the tip of your tongue. “Hi, I’m, uh-“

The man who’s answered, who you summarise to be Steve’s father despite never having seen him, looks disinterested. “Steve,” he calls. “One of your friends.”

He walks away with nothing else to say, a dark brown liquid lapping at the sides of his small glass. You pull the wrapped box in hand closer to your chest, shifting from one numbing foot to the other as a small tumbling sound comes from upstairs. A pair of hinges squeal, and Steve is halfway down the stairs before he’s even looked up. 

He slows as he approaches the bottom. 

He’s in pajamas. Sweatpants, nondescript, but his too-tight shirt clearly of the Christmas variety. A snowman smiles over his chest. 

“It’s laundry day,” he says. 

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go out with you-“

“Steve,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Is that… for me?”

The box in your hands is wrapped modestly. You hadn’t wanted to shove Christmas down his throat, trading reds and greens for a shiny silver paper pressed with fine glitter snowflakes. 

“Yeah. It’s for you.”

Steve stares at you. You stare back. 

“I’d invite you in, but…” He shakes his head. “Let me get my coat.”

Steve doesn’t close the door, to his father’s annoyance, deep grumbling echoing from the kitchen area. You watch him shove his socked feet into a pair of sneakers and scramble to grab his coat and a scarf. 

“Okay?” he asks, stepping out onto the path and closing the door behind him. 

You don’t answer, distracted by his hands suddenly held up, the scarf thrown neatly around your neck. He does a single knot and tucks it under your jaw. “Awesome,” he says. 

You walk down his street. Hawkins is half woods, and soon you’re weaving between naked trees, no destination in mind, not one unspoken feeling acknowledged between you. 

“Why do you hate Christmas?” 

It’s just dark enough for Steve’s clouded breath to show against the sky. “I don’t,” he says.

Your footsteps break over leaves so frosted they crackle. 

“I mean, I guess I do,” he says. “I don’t know. I think I want it to be better than it is.” He stops under a tree that’s clinging to its last handful of leaves and gives a low-hanging branch a playful shake. “I never enjoyed it, as a kid. Or, I don’t remember. I’m sure I liked it when I was still snot-nosed.”

“So, last year?” 

He chuckles warmly. “Exactly.”

You walk a little further, too awkward to hand him his gift. 

“I don’t hate it. But it’s cold, and everyone’s rushing, and the bad outweighs the good.” He sounds tired. 

He breaks your heart like that. 

You stop walking and Steve takes your cue, the two of you toe-to-toe, your sneakers dirty, his socks odd. One white and one grey. 

“I got you this because… um, I have something to tell you. I don’t think I can say it out loud, but- but I hope it adds something to the scale.” You extend the box slowly, your fingers stiff with the cold. “You deserve some good. You deserve a lot of good.” 

You laugh, flustered, and Steve joins in, chest lifting with it as he accepts his gift. 

He rips off the wrapping paper, at first carefully and then less so, shoving little pieces into his pocket as he goes. You take the bigger scraps from him so he can look at the box itself. 

Your gift is actually multiple gifts contained inside, and the first isn't technically a gift at all. The Family Video copy of The Christmas Star.

"Is this-" 

"I've been meaning to give it back to you. I'm sorry, I know it's not a real gift, I just figured- I mean, you've never seen it. I thought we should watch it, and that you'd like it if you did. Or maybe you'll hate it, and that would be fine too." 

He nods and moves to the next gift, lips twitching with an emotion he won't share. 

"That's your size, hopefully. I asked Robin but she didn't know. I kept the receipt." 

Steve smiles at you. "Would you hold this?" he asks. 

You put your hands out and take the box back, worried, but he's only unzipping his coat. Quick as a flash he's shrugging into the sweater head first. It's a simple thing, red wool, soft to touch. A Christmas sweater, though there's no decoration beside a tiny holly leaf embroidered at the collar in dark green. 

"This is fucking sweet," he says. 

You agree. He looks good. 

A shiver racks his spine. 

"Put your coat back on, you're gonna freeze," you say gently. 

He beams at you. "My dead body will be the best dressed in the morgue." 

"Don't joke about that!" 

He laughs and gets back into his coat, zip right up to his neck. He still looks cold. 

The third present is a gingerbread house kit. The fourth, a sprig of mistletoe. They're obvious now the sweaters in action, and Steve seems mildly confused by them. You leap to explain. 

"I thought, I mean- I want a do-over." You tilt your cheek toward your shoulder, scared and fond at the same time. "I wanted you to kiss me. I think you wanted to kiss me, and then Eddie," — you laugh loudly, cheeks burning with the cold — "was being himself. And Steve, I brought that stupid plant with me to Robin's house last week hoping we'd be alone, and to work the week before. But you're hard to pin down." 

You take a deep breath before continuing, eyes determined at his collar, "If you don't want to kiss me, that's okay. That's why I brought the gingerbread house, because ours was awesome before it fell apart, and I'm pretty sure Robin gave us a dud on purpose. We made something really cool together, and I think we can do it again." 

"I did want to kiss you. I do." 

You bite the inside of your lip, nose scrunched up in happiness. "You do?" you ask, and there's this feeling in your chest like you could burst, and all the cold shrinks into nothing. You're warm in your arms, your fingers, your fingertips. 

His hand comes up to his face briefly, shielding his eyes. "Am I obvious?" 

"Am I?" 

His exhale tickles your cheeks. "No," he says breathlessly.  "No, you're not." 

He says it like it's a good thing. A great thing. 

"Everybody else knows," you say similarly. 

"I know." 

He brings a hand to your cheek. It's cold, cold as your face, but he still winces and rubs at the apple with his thumb. "You're freezing," he says as he inches forward. 

His lips are warm. More gentle than you'd imagined, hesitant, and the box you're holding stops him from getting as close as you want him to get. He kisses you once, then he pulls away and kisses you again, his lips slightly parted. 

It's better than you'd thought it would be. His palm stroking your cheek, the pressure, the heat. Knowing he wants to kiss you now as he wanted to then. 

"No fucking way," he says, tilting his head back. 

You tip your head back too. Something wet falls in your eyelashes, a drop of rain. 

Not rain. "It's fucking snowing," Steve says. 

It's snowing. Because it's Christmas, and the powers that be are on your side. 

"Happy Christmas, Harrington," you say jovially. 

You're given another kiss in reward. Reward, or to shut you up. You're not sure. 

—

Steve is impartial to Christmas. He doesn't want to get into it but he will, because you love it. 

The snow — the snow, which had fallen thick and fine as powdered sugar, which you adore, and which makes coming to see you in the days leading up to Christmas near impossible. It's something out of a movie, Steve, seriously, and you need to appreciate what's happening. 

The music you play when he comes to see you, records on your record player and cassettes in your tape deck lying on your chest, knee to knee and thigh to thigh with him. Your quiet humming; you won't sing, but the small sounds alone are enough to make him want to kiss you (though everything does now). He can't hate Here Comes Santa Claus when you hum along under your breath, lips skipping over the skin of his bicep, your hand scratching a rhythm into his hair. 

Everybody knows Santa's coming, I don't see why they have to have a whole song about it. 

Are you jealous? I'll write a song about you. Or maybe I can steal one. You ever hear Santa baby? We can make it Stevie baby. 

Christmas music? Not his thing. You calling him baby? Fine, he can get behind it. At least until January. 

Christmas sweaters! He fucking hates them. They're ugly, they're scary, he doesn't wanna walk around with a pom pom on his chest thank you so much, but he has to allow them. Has to. If only so he can watch you get dressed with one eye hidden in your pillow and the other wide open. Thank little baby Jesus in the manger for Christmas sweaters so you have something to tuck into your skirt, so you have a reason to wear a skirt at all, and a reason to take one off. 

Christmas snacks he can get behind. Or, he can get behind this. You on the couch, a needle threaded in your hand. A bowl of popcorn in his lap, and your face as you lean back. 

He throws a kernel and it lands in your open mouth. 

You both holler, twin expressions of unadulterated joy, popcorn spilling over the sides of the bowl. You just look so happy, he climbs on knees to steal a kiss. A smiling kiss, the very best kind. 

"Aren't you supposed to do this stuff before Christmas eve?" he asks. 

"I've been a little busy." 

Steve digs his face into your neck so you won't see him blushing, hands curling around your waist in an impromptu hug. Yes, he supposes you have been. 

You kiss his temple sweetly. 

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs. He really, really means it. 

❆

thanks for reading! im so out of practice but hopefully this is okay!! i meant to post it yesterday but anyhow, i hope you enjoyed <3

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #christmas #reader celebrates christmas #christmas centric #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

[strniohoeee]

because matt is so tough lately can you write something about reader trying to show him her love with cutesy thing but hes just tough and even snaps at her for lil things and one time reader starts crying and tell him how she feels and matt feels bad and apologize and then some fluff

Can’t You See?

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N can’t understand why Matt is being such an ass to her. She’s going through her own stuff, and tries her best to be the best for Matt, but it just not good enough🩶 I also combined it with this request reader starts getting depressed but matt is an idiot and doesn’t notice and even makes it worse by being angry always than nick and chris talk to him and then he makes it up with fluffy ending

Warnings⚠️: Matt is an asshole in this which is not at all how Id think he’d actually be, but I had to do it🤭 Hope yall enjoy🫶🏽

Song for the imagine: Mark My Words- Justin Bieber

So you heard it all before

Falling in and out of trust

Trying to rekindle us

Only to lose yourself

But I won’t let me lose you

And I won’t let us just fade away

These past few weeks I have been at an all time low mentally. It’s been getting harder and harder to pull myself out of bed and get stuff done. I hated this feeling because it destroyed my life outside of my head.

At first Matt was understanding and even tried to help me, but this wasn’t something he could help me with. This was my own battle. I had to try and fix myself. I hated to put this on him and his brothers because I didn’t want them to stop what they were doing for me.

I often removed myself from them, focusing on myself when I got like this. They always checked up on me, but I made it clear I was okay on my own.

Most days I would wake up and shower and just sit in bed for hours staring at a wall or scrolling on my phone. Often forgetting to eat or drink water. At first they tried to help me, but then they went on with their lives doing what they needed to do, and I didn’t mind. That was until Matt started getting upset

I was once again sitting in Matt’s bed today in complete darkness curled up in a ball looking at the wall just thinking. It’s crazy how fast time goes when you’re not paying attention. Suddenly the door opened the lights flickered on causing me to squint

“Have you gotten up at all today?” Matt asked bluntly

“I have” I said in a whisper

“Are you just going to sit in bed everyday and mope around?” He asked opening his closet to change his outfit

“I’m not moping matt” I said not even looking over at him

“Yes you are, I’m trying to get you to get up and go out, see some light, and all you can do is lay around and stare at the wall” he said scoffing at me

“You’re being a dick” I said to him

“I’m not I’m being honest, and you clearly don’t like honesty” he said looking through his closet

“I’m going through something right now, and I’m really struggling to feel better, so you coming in here and barking at me isn’t helping” I said to him

“So get up, like force yourself up and let’s go do something. We can go for a ride or to the boardwalk or even to eat….just something” he said

“I don’t want to get up okay, you don’t get it” I said back

“I do get it. Do you know how many days I wake up and I want to roll over and stay in my room, but I can’t because I actually have a job to do and content to create” he replied back

I turned over completely appalled at his words

“Actually have a job? We both have the same fucking job you fucking asshole” I said looking at him

“Well look who’s putting in the work and who isn’t” he said looking over at me

“You’re such a fucking piece of shit when you want to be” I said rolling my eyes

“I tried to be there for you, but this has been going on for so long, and it’s exhausting trying to help you” he replied slipping his shirt on

“No one fucking asked you to help me I said I got it on my own. I’m so fucking sorry my depression is taking such a toll on you” I said getting up from the bed

“It’s upsetting to just see you lay here and waste your days away” he said looking over at me

“Can’t you see?…..YOU JUST DONT GET IT” I yelled the last part at him

Opening his door and walking out slamming the door behind me. I was fuming and I needed to get out of the house immediately.

I grabbed my purse and my car keys from the table

“Hey you okay?” Nick asked me as I walked into the living room

“Yeah I’m fine your brothers being a dick” I said

“Classic Matt” Chris responded

“Where are you going?” Matt suddenly asked from the kitchen

“I’m leaving” I said with my back to him

“This is what it took for you to get up? Was an argument? It’s shocking how upset you get over small things” he responded

“Matt shut the fuck up” Chris said to him

“I’m not mad I’m disappointed that you of all people are acting this way towards me” I said finally looking over at him

“I was just trying to help you” he said

“Whatever I’m going” I said turning to walk down the stairs

“Where?” Matt asked

“Away from you. I need space from you” I said

With that I walked down the stairs and hopped into my car deciding to drive back to my apartment. Once I got home I decided to shower and listen to music while I cooked something for myself

I loved Matt but his communication skills were horrible. It’s crazy that this small argument put some drive into me to start doing stuff. I was filled with so much anger and hurt from Matt. This was not who he was, and I wasn’t sure if he was going through something himself, or if I was genuinely making him upset.

I allowed myself to hurt and cry in the comfort of my own home. Scared that this would cause our relationship to end, but also scared that it could be something I wanted too.

I slept it off that day, and hadn’t spoken to Matt in three days. I would text Nick and Chris letting them know I was okay, and that I wasn’t too sure what I wanted to do as far as our relationship.

Another three days went by, and it was a good week now since I last saw Matt. Around the fifth day he started to call me, but I ignored his calls, truly needing this time to think.

On the eighth day I felt better, and I really missed Matt. I wanted to make things up to him and make things right. I decided to go on a small shopping spree for him and write him a cute letter attached to a new stuffed animal I got him.

After shopping I decided to head over to the triplets house letting Nick know I’d be over shortly. He left the door unlocked for me. I made my way to their front door letting myself in.

“Hi guys” I said walking up the stairs

“Heyyy you’re back” Chris said

“I am” I said giggling

“Are you feeling any better?” Nick asked me

“I feel much better. I think I just really needed those last days to think about everything and figure out what I wanted to do” I responded

“Are you breaking up with his bitch ass?” Chris asked laughing

“No I came to apologize to him” I said

“Apologize to him? You didn’t do anything wrong” Nick said

“I feel like I shut him out and I lacked communication with him, and that’s why I want to say sorry” I told him

“Aww okay” Nick said

“He’s in his room” Chris said

I nodded and walked over to Matt’s room, opening the door to see him lying on his bed scrolling through his phone.

“Matt” I said shutting the door behind me

“Baby” he said getting off the bed and coming over to kiss and hug me

“I missed you” I said kissing him again

“I missed you too” he said looking down at me

“I brought you gifts to say I’m sorry” I said smiling at him

“Oh yeah?” He said nodding at me

I gave him the stuffed animal and the bags of stuff. He walked over to his bed placing the stuffed animal on his bed and sitting down to look in the bags

He pulled out shirts and beanies and a new necklace

“Why’d you get me this?” He said his mood suddenly changing

“Well to say I’m sorry for not talking to you” I said

“You sit around moping and then suddenly you feel better to go shopping? This is all so expensive, why'd you waste your money?” He said looking at me

“What? I’m confused right now” I said shaking my head

“You don’t talk to me, but you think buying me expensive stuff is going to fix us?” He said

“Matt, are you joking? I came here to apologize to you for not opening up to you and taking your advice. I wanted to spoil you with my hard earned money, and this is how you treat me?” I said scoffing

“I just wanted you to talk to me not do this shit” he said putting the stuff back in his bag

“I don’t know what happened to you Matt, and I’m sorry if you’re going through your own issues right now, but this is not you” I said shaking my head

“I’m fine” he said sternly

“You’re clearly not you’re snapping at me for no reason” I said

“I’m not snapping” he said

“You know what Matt. If you don’t want to be with me just say that, okay? I’m over this! I’m leaving” I said walking out of his room

I walked to the living room and Nick stopped me

“What’s going on?” He said reading my demeanor

“I don’t know what’s going on with your brother but that’s not the guy I fell in love with” I said clenching my jaw

“What’s wrong with this kid?” Chris suddenly said

“I don’t know, but I’m over it. I’m leaving” I said huffing out a breath

I left their house and headed back to my place. Even more angry than our first initial fight. Why was he being such a fucking dick?

Nicks POV

“Matt what the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked him

“Nothings wrong” Matt said scoffing

“You’re being a complete fucking dick to Y/N, and she didn’t do anything to you” I responded back

“She just makes me upset sometimes with how she does thing” he said back

“So then like an adult you use your words. You don’t just lash out like a child” I told him

“I didn’t lash out like a child” he said getting upset

“Yes you did, and you get upset easily. You need to figure your shit out, or she’s going to leave you, and I wouldn’t be shocked if she did” I told him

“You know what fuck you” he said and stomped to his room

Matt had sat on his bed running his hands through his hair looking down at the bags of clothes Y/N had got him. He let out a sigh and leaned back, suddenly landing on a stuffed animal and hearing a crunch of paper

He furrowed his brows and reached behind him, he pulled the stuffed animal out, and saw a note attached to the front. It read Matt with a heart next to his name.

Matt opened the envelope and pulled the letter out. He began to read and his facial features softened

To my beautiful boy,

I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to upset you, that's not what I intended. I’ve been struggling with my own depression, and it’s not something I want to put on you or your brothers because I know you go through so much daily. I appreciate you being there for me, and being my shoulder to cry on. I love you. I’m sorry if you’re going through anything yourself, and I haven’t given you the comfortability or time to express yourself. You haven’t been the same these past few weeks, and I hope it’s not something I’ve done. I care for you and I worry for you, and even though your words hurt me the other day I can not hold it against you. Deep down I know you’re fighting your own demons, but I just want you to talk to me. Our communication has been awful lately, and I’m not sure why. Please know that I’m always here for you no matter what. Rain or shine I’ll be there for you my love. I just want us to be how we used to be happy and in love. I love you with my whole heart Matthew!

Sincerely,

Your biggest fan

Matt immediately shot up, his heart falling to his stomach. Immediately he felt the guilt and disgust wash over him. How could he be so mean and awful to you? You have been there for him through thick and thin. You were his rock and he was treating you horribly

Matt jumped up immediately grabbing his keys, and running out to head over to you. In a hurry he walked down the stairs shouting to his brothers he’d be back home soon.

He got in the car and immediately started his way over to you. How could he hurt his baby? His number one in life. He was so hurt he couldn’t even focus on anything else. About 20 minutes later he arrived to your apartment complex, walking up to your floor and knocking on your door

You opened the door with saddened eyes, and a confused look on your face.

“You’re my everything. I have never wanted anything more in life than you. I have been the worst boyfriend to you during a time where you needed my support the most. You didn’t deserve to be spoken to the way you were. And for that I can not forgive myself for. I was a piece of shit and you tried to be understanding. If you no longer see a future with me because of how I acted I completely understand that” Matt said looking me in the eyes

“Matt? I….” I couldn’t even form a sentence I was shocked

“I love you, and if you don’t want to see me right now I get that. I will give you space and I will leave” he said turning on his heels to walk away

“Matt wait” I called out to him which caused him to turn back around

“You were a piece of shit and the things you said were awful, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I know deep down you're struggling with your own issues, and if you don’t want to talk about them that’s fine, but just know communication is key, and it goes both ways” I said looking at him

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry” he said letting his head hang

“It’s okay Matt, come in” I said pulling him in to my apartment

“It’s not okay. I was horrible to you and I don’t deserve you” he said sitting down

“Don’t speak like that. We deserve each other, you just have a hard time communicating, and I understand that” I said walking over to him

“It’s just seeing you so hurt and depressed made me so angry because I couldnt bare to see my baby struggling and not feeling like you were able to come and talk to me. It hurt me, and instead of talking to you about it I let that hurt turn into anger” he said

“I’m sorry for completely shutting you out of my life for those past few weeks. It wasn’t right, and that was a time I needed you the most and I just pushed you so far away” I told him

“I promise to communicate with you about how I feel so we can work everything out, I don’t want to fight with you” he said pulling me into him

“And I don’t want to fight with you either Matthew. I love you” I said smiling at him

“I love you too” he said letting a tear fall from his eye

“Don’t cry my love it’s okay” I said pulling him into me

Matt completely broke down in my arms

“It’s not okay I hurt you and I can’t live with the fact that I said such awful things to you” he said in sobs

“This will make us stronger as a couple okay, we now know how to go about our issues without it boiling over” I said petting the back of his head

“I’m sorry….im so fucking sorry” he said pulling away and looking at me

“It’s okay, I love you okay” I said wiping his eyes and looking at him

“I love you too” he responded

I pulled Matt in and kissed him. It was a deep passionate kiss. A kiss that we so badly needed.

Matt laid in my arms the whole night as we spoke to each other. Talking about our feelings and how we wanted to change. He listened to every word I said carefully and I did the same

Matt was my ride or die, and I could not live without him.

The End

Alright guys I hope both people who requested this imagine enjoyed it! I loved writing this one! And I hope yall enjoyed it 🤭🤭🖤🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines

[justangelheree]

jealous- chris sturniolo (18+)

masterlist

warnings: use of pet names, choking, oral(m&f receiving), unprotected sex (plz wrap before u tap it), pulling hair, cremepie, lowkey dom chris bc lol also not proof read but enjoy

summary: chris and reader are best friends but will one halloween party change that?

i’m sitting in the car with the triplets and we’re playing smash or pass for there youtube channel. chris wouldn’t shut up about betty boop and how she was bad as fuck.

“chris that’s actually crazy we’re not talking literally” i say laughing at him from the backseat. nick then starts laughing as chris starts to defend himself. “i said what i said she bad” i roll my eyes and tell matt to go to the next one.

“smash or pass.. steve harrington from stranger things” matt said looking at me and nick. i look to matt an smile as i speak “smash 100% he could” before i could finish chris spoke “i thought this wasn’t literal” i closed my mouth holding in my laugh. “i don’t care smash all day everyday” i said while the boys mouths were wide open.

as the video ended matt drove back to their apartment. we arrived as i got out the car and wrapped my arms around chris pulling him into a hug since him and matt just argued. he hugged back and took a deep breath in as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “come on it’s alright” i say grabbing his hand dragging him inside.

i walk to the kichen his hand still in mine as i sat next to nick and chris stood behind me while matt was getting a drink. “are we going to nessas halloween party? madi said shes going” nick says looking up from his phone. “i’m always down to get dressed up and i think i have a costume in mind” i spoke leaning back on the chair looking up at chris as he started speaking. “i think i have something in mind too” he looks down at me smiling.

chris grab a pepsi from the fridge as nick and matt both said their goodnights to us. “ready to go to bed i’m exhausted” i say tilting my head at chris as he shuts the fridge. “yeah i’m ready ma” chris said with a raspy voice. i bit my lip as he starts to walk upstairs while i follow behind.

he opens the door as i walk to his draw and got out some of my pajamas because i tend to stay here a lot i’ve know these boys for to long. l start to take off my pants and shirt leaving me in my underwear and bra. chris is sitting on the bed watching me as i look at him in the mirror he smirks at me as i put my head down blushing. i put just a baggy t-shirt on as i go to lay next to him.

i pull the blanket up on us as chris puts his head in my chest. i put my hand in his hair as i drifted off to sleep.

*the day of the party*

i facetime nick because he wanted to get ready on facetime. “heyy nick im actually so excited” i say smiling. “i know i haven’t been to a party in awhile so i’m a little nervous” he said back. “yes exactly i feel like im gonna look like such a slut” i speak as i pull my makeup out. “i promise you’ll look good if people think other wise they can fuck themselfs” nick said reassuring me. i laughed as i struggled to get out a thank you.

i finish my makeup as nick is putting on his costume. “nick i will see you in like 30 minutes i have to do my hair and put my dress on, and remember no showing me what you’re dressed as we all agreed to keep it a secret” i say. “i know i know see you in a bit” he said rolling his eyes sarcastically. “okayy i love uu” i said screaming into the phone. “i love you too” he screamed back. i hung up the phone as i started to play music.

i started to do my hair jamming out to my playlist chris created for me. as i finish my hair and slowly start to take all the pieces for my costume out of the box. i put my red dress on looking at myself in the mirror and turning around looking how good my body looked. i slipped on the red garter to my thigh an putt my heels on. i sent a text to nick letting him know i’ll be there soon.

i hopped in my car an started to drive to the place the party was being held turning up the radio. i pulled up as i looked around to see all the cars outside. i parked my car as i got out grabbing my purse walking to the door.

as i walked in i saw nessa and madi so i knew the triplets had to be here. i walked up to them. “you guys look so good” i said hugging them. “omg girl you are so hot” madi says pulling way. “thank you mads but do you know where the boys are?”i question. she point her fingers over to the kitchen. i nod my head as i say my goodbyes.

i slowly walk into the kitchen and i lock eyes with matt who’s jaw is on the floor as i put my finger to my lips telling him to shoosh because i wanted to surprise chris. before i could walk behind chris someone stopped me.

“hey how have you been!” i turned around to see who it was. it was an old friend of mine he went to my highschool. “where’s time gone you look so grown but i’m doing good how about you?” i ask looking up at him. i feel a stare behind but i choose to ignore it.

“i’m good it’s been so long since i’ve seen you and you look amazing” he spoke flirtatiously. my smile dropped realizing he was trying to make a move. “thank you it was nice seeing you” i said as i gave him a small hug as his hands wrapped around my waist but i pulled away right then and there.

i waved at him as i turned around my eyes met a very sexy steve harrington who has his jaw clenched. i walk my way over to the triplets and put my hands out giving a “surprise” look. “omg! you look actually so amazing” nick said pulling me into a hug. “mr harrington over here couldn’t stop looking at you” matt laughed as he pulled me into a hug as well.

i laugh as i pull away and make it to chris. his reaction changes as he takes me in looking me from top to bottom as he licks his lips. i look up to him with doe eyes as i put my hands around his neck pulling him into a hug. he wraps his hand right above my ass.

“like what you see mr harrington” i whisper in his ear as i pull away arms still wrapped around his neck. he looks down onto he as his hands slowly move down my ass. “i love what i see mrs betty boop” he whispers back.

i look to my left and realize nick and matt are gone i giggle as i turn back to chris. i grab his hand as i lead him outside where we can get away from everyone. “i can’t believe you dressed up as steve like i could kiss you right now” i said looking up at him. “why don’t you? … or do you want that other guy in there. he sure wanted a piece of you.” chris spoke with a tang of anger.

“why would i want him when i have you” i said licking my lips looking back and forth between his lips and eyes. he rises his hand to my cheek closing the gap between us connecting our lips. i wrap my hand in his hair slightly tugging as his hand moved from my face to my neck squeezing lightly.

i moaned against his lips as he slips his tounge into my mouth as we fought for dominance, him obviously winning. his other hand sliding down my dress kneading my ass in his hand. i tilt my head back as he replaced his hand with his lips on my neck.

“as much as i love and appreciate this outfit i need to get it off of you” chris looked down at me as i bit my lip. he grabbed my hand and ran to find an empty room. as we reach a room completely empty he shut the door and locked it connecting our lips once again.

my hands went under his shirt feeling his torso and chest as i pulled it over his head. he unzipped my dress as i step out of it his pants are tossed on the floor with it. i reach for my thigh to take my garter chris stops me. “leave it on” he spoke demanding. i nod my head as i slowly start to kneel on the ground.

chris groans from the way he doesn’t even need to tell you what to do. i pull down his boxers watching his hard dick bounce onto his torso. i pump him with my hand as he steps on out his boxers. “come on ma.. put that pretty mouth to use” he said putting his hand on my head not messing up my hair.

i reply with taking him in my mouth as he threw his head back with a moan. i started to bop my head up and down with his hand guiding me. “as much as i’m enjoying this i want to cum in that pretty pussy of yours” he spoke grabbing my hand pulling me up.

he reconnected our lips and picked me up. i wrapped my legs around him as he took me to the bed and laid me down. he started planting light bruises on my neck as he made his way down and unclipped my bra. “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve see in my life” he said hands groping my boobs.

i whine out at his actions as he tongue meets my nipples sucking. his hand reach farther down and get to my side as he pops of my nipple leaving kisses along my torso. i bring my hand down to move his hair so i could see his face.

he reached my pussy as he took my underwear an put it in his pocket as he opened my legs. my pussy on full display for me glistening from the light as he used two fingers to spread it open. “you’ve been hiding this beautiful thing from me” he spoke rubbing my clit.

i moan as my hand reaches farther into his hair almost tugging. “gonna be a good girl for me and let me eat you out.” he said putting a finger in me. my head titled back “yes i’ll be good.. just please chris” i desperately whispered.

he went in bringing his lips and tounge to my clit while pumping a finger in and out of me. i grip his hair as i roll my eyes back. he groans against me sending a vibration through my whole body.

he adds a second finger going a little faster this time as i moan out his name. “chris! .. fuck i’m bout to cum please!” i almost scream out. he pulls away from now taking his fingers out and rubbing my clit. “not yet baby i wanna fuck it out of you” i moan at his words as he towers over me.

he gives me a kiss before flipping me on my stomach so i’m face down ass up. he lets me get comfortable before slowly putting his dick in me. i groan against the pillow as his hands grip my hips. he sets a slow pace groaning while going in and out.

“god you’re so tight ma.. i’m gonna go a little faster now” he spoke. i nodded my head eagerly needing him to go faster. he rocked me back and forth against him as he’s hand came down to grip my hair. “fuck.. just like that chris!” i grip the sheets underneath my fingers.

“such a slut.. wanting me to be rough with you” he said tightening his hand that was in hair. “yes chris i’m your slut” i breathlessly spoke. “just mine” he whispered bringing me up so my back was against his chest. i turn my head to lock lips with him as one of us hands wrapped around neck and other around my torso keeping me stable.

all i could hear was unsteady moans, skin slapping, and the music faintly from downstairs. i cleached around him as he moans into my lips. i dragged my arm behind his head gripping a hold of him as he pounded into me. “shit chris! im not gonna last much longer” i spoke tilting my head back.

“it’s okay baby let it out i’m right behind ya” he said dragging his hand from my neck to my clit rubbing in circles. i close my eyes as my hand clings onto his hair slightly pulling. “oh god chris” i almost screamed out as i let myself go.

i clenched around him as my legs started to slight shake as he filled me up moaning in my ear. “what a good girl letting me just stuff you” he said letting me catch my breath. he pulled out and laid us down on the bed.

i was about to fall asleep until i heard nick scream “chris and y/n! where are you guys, we need to take pictures!” chris chuckled as he looked over to me putting his hand out so we could get up. i groan as i take his hand and get up tossing him his clothes.

i start to put my whole outfit on for a second time today as i looked up to see chris fully dressed behind me zipping up my dress. i smile at him as i turn around and kiss him. “come on ma wouldn’t want them waiting” he smirked as i nod my head. i look at myself in the mirror and surprisingly, my hair was still good, but my lipstick was ruined.

we walked outside the room with chris’s arm around my waist. “there you guys are come on we need to hurry” nick said smiling pulling us downstairs. i interlock my hands with chris as we walked to all of our friends.

if you want to be tagged lmk!

tags: @lustfulslxt @oversturn

#spotify #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #smut

[sgt-seabass]

Joining in on the clockwork fan train, I have a Drabble prompt if you are interested. Nick often plays fast and loose with reader’s safety, and although he’s a control freak so he thinks of everything to prevent her getting harmed (like using air rifle etc) I wonder how he might react if he goes too far/something goes wrong and she does actually get badly hurt from one of his games. Maybe playtime gone wrong or he misjudged his strength. Would he feel guilt, or shrug it off?

𝒔𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU. listening to — ♫ sip u slowly warnings — general dark elements, smut (dubcon due to stokholm, p in v, cunnilingus), choking to the point of passing out and bruising, possessiveness, pet names (pup, puppy, omega), a/b/o dynamics, very light medical elements, reference to past minor character death a/n — i hope you like it! thank you so much for the support and interest in the Clockwork AU! written on my phone. thank you so much to @rookthorne for helping with beta and suggestions 🥺🥺💙 this was meant to be short whoops.

Nick had been insatiable, fucking you for hours and eating you out each time in-between sessions.

After a work deal had gone awry and lives had been lost, he wanted nothing more than to bury his problems in your tight heat. With your essence on his tongue, he could be absolved of his irreverence.

Nick was angry. He didn’t take to fuck ups well.

When he’d heard about an omega retrieval gone wrong that ended with the death of a few targeted girls, he was irate.

Nick had to murder his men for their actions. They were there to capture them, not kill them - professionalism was expected, mandated, in his organisation. Nick didn’t need more red in his ledger, yet it seemed to have a way of seeping in, tainting the pages and bleeding everywhere.

His temper was no more than his inner child locked in an endless cycle of self-flagellation, so he fixated on you to distract himself. He’d created you and turned you into the omega he wanted. However, the problem with manipulating is that you deny yourself the love and support that partnership provides. Nick knew he was fooling himself by thinking you were unequivocally his, so he wanted to show you how good he could make you feel.

The urge boiled beneath his skin, an unbridled need to claim you; to fuck you into oblivion.

Barely keeping himself restrained, he’d carried you to the bedroom just after dinner, and the sun had long set. His need for you continued into the early morning.

By the time the clock hit three am, you were exhausted. That much was evident by the way your eyes struggled to stay open even as you orgasmed. The little sounds Nick pulled from you got whinier and more strained the more your body tried to get its rest.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and Nick was certainly feeling sinful.

“Give me another, puppy,” Nick growled to you, face between your legs before moaning at the taste of his seed and your wet mixing.

“I’m tired, alpha. I can’t.” You whimpered, sweat dotting your brow while your back arched against the silk bedsheets. “S’too much.”

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to decide that. I’ll tell you when it’s enough, omega.” Nick’s voice reverberated against your clit before he gently sucked it, causing your fingers to fist into the sheets from the unrelenting pleasure.

This was Nick’s favourite way to have you. Crumpled from the euphoria he caused you. You’d fought so hard against him, but at the end of the day, you ended up right where you belonged.

In his bed.

Nick started slow, drawing circles around your clit before replacing his tongue with his fingers. He flicked his finger while his mouth pressed kisses along your hip and down your thigh. Nick couldn’t help himself when it came to tasting all of you, so he bit into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kept working your sensitive clit.

Your wail only served to make Nick bite again, closer to your cunt this time. Fuck, your tears were gorgeous. “Does it hurt, omega?” When you nodded in response, Nick slapped your thigh. “Use your words.”

“Ye— Yes. Hurts, alpha.”

“Mm, but you look so beautiful with my marks.” Nick looked at the teeth marks adorning your skin, smirking to himself before turning his attention back to your clit. “Tell me what you want, puppy. Tell me what you need.”

Your thighs clenched, and Nick chuckled dryly as he ground himself against the bed, his erection painfully hard. He wanted to do nothing more than fuck you senseless, but it was worth waiting if it meant he got to see you shatter.

“I need…” You stopped yourself, and Nick could see the embarrassment in your expression. It was beautiful. “I need your mouth, please, alpha.”

“Such nice manners,” Nick praised before giving you exactly what you wanted.

He drank you in slowly, running his tongue over your folds and watching how you responded. You were so tense. As if each muscle was waiting for the anticipated precipice. And Nick would give it to you, but he wanted his fun first.

Deft fingers pulled your folds apart, and Nick groaned at the sight of you. Glistening and inviting. “Such a pretty pussy, pup. Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

Nick ran his flat tongue up your cunt, starting with long, languid licks that began to gradually get faster. Nick placed a hand on your stomach to stablise you as his broad strokes got shorter, turning into quick flicks across your clit.

He didn’t stop, not tiring even as the clock ticked away on the bedside table.

The tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm started to show as Nick alternated between licking and sucking, his hand running up and down your thigh as the other held you down. Your body tensed, and it goaded Nick to go faster, gripping your flesh tightly.

Nick hummed against your clit, and the dams burst. Like music to his ears, your mewls turned high-pitched as you came, your juices gushing down his chin. Nick had lost count of how many orgasms you’d had tonight, but each one was better than the last. He’d never get sick of this.

“My puppy does love playtime, don’t you, baby?” Nick watched as your glazed eyes looked at him, surprised at the new pet name. Baby. It’s endearing. Intimate. “You’re going to sit back and let your alpha do all the work now, right? Puppies are just too silly to do anything but lay down and get fucked.”

Seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was bringing out the beast in Nick. The further down this rabbit hole he fell, the harder it was to keep his semblance of control. If you tried to make a run for it right now, he might actually kill you, too lost in the chase of his prey to realise what was happening. But you don’t run. Instead, you shuffled a little up the sheets, so your head rested on one of the satin pillows.

You knew you couldn’t escape, so you prepared yourself to be comfortable. Nick crawled up the bed, cock standing proud between his parted thighs, and he loomed over you. “Are you scared, puppy?”

Nick smiled when you gave him an odd look like you weren’t sure what response he wanted. “You should be.”

His words were the only warning you got before he mounted you, sheathing his dick in your dripping cunt with one swift motion of his hips. Nick let out a growl, pulling out the pillow from under you so he could grip the back of your neck. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel like fucking velvet, omega.”

The teasing nature Nick had earlier was long gone, replaced with a feral alpha desperate to breed. His thrusts were deep, rutting against your hips as his heavy breaths filled the room, mixed with your moans. It was a fucking symphony.

“This little cunt is mine, isn’t it? Tell me,” Nick snarled, pounding into your sore, used pussy without resolve.

“S’yours. All yours,” you sobbed into the cool air, tears streaking down your cheeks.

“That’s right. You’re fucking mine.” Nick moved his hand to rest on the front of your neck. He tiled his head back while his eyes fluttered closed.

It was a complete state of bliss. Nick didn’t look down as he let himself be free. No control, no thoughts. Just alpha.

You moaned with each plunge of his cock, but Nick didn’t notice the way your moans were weakening under the sound of smacking flesh.

Your hands clawed at Nick’s arm, but he didn’t even register it.

It wasn’t until you went quiet altogether that Nick opened his eyes.

Suddenly, cold washed over Nick when he looked down, his hand tight around your neck and your eyes closed. Not even a squeak came from your parted lips.

“Omega? Shit. Omega, open your eyes.” Nick tapped your cheek, but you were completely unconscious. “Puppy, wake up.”

He shook your shoulders, pulling his now soft cock out of you before he placed his finger under your nose. A sigh of relief left Nick when he felt the soft blow of your breath against his skin.

Nick’s jaw clenched, guilt awash over him. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t realise he’d begun squeezing, and he’d choked you out.

Your lack of response concerned Nick, so he sat on the bed, pulling you to his chest. He cradled you, and suddenly he was like his ten-year-old self again, holding the body of his dead sister on the living room floor. “Wake up. Please. I’ll… I’ll get you even more strawberries. You love them, right?”

You didn’t wake. Still soundly asleep and unaware of your distressed alpha.

In making you vulnerable, Nick had actually exposed himself. Desperate and alone, he was nothing without something of his own. Without you.

“Beck! Bring your med kit!” Nick’s voice boomed through the mansion, a prime alpha call.

Only moments later, Beck came barrelling through the door with his doctor’s bag. His eyes widened at the sight of you in Nick’s lap, mottled bruises already beginning to spread over your neck. “What happened?”

“I didn’t realise I was squeezing,” Nick’s voice came out monotone, devoid of emotion. His heart had begun to lock down. He wasn’t ready to lose anyone else.

Beck rushed over, gently taking you from Nick and resting you back against the bed. Your alpha moved away from the bed, arms crossed and expression cold as he watched.

“She’s alive,” Beck commented. You were obviously alive, but hearing Beck’s assurance eased Nick a little. The alpha always managed to calm him down.

There was a flurry of movement as Beck checked you over, Nick watching closely, not moving from his spot. As if he were a statue, frozen by pain.

“She’s going to be fine. I think she could use an IV with some fluids, and I can do a scan of her neck if you’re really worried,” Beck sighed, standing up. “But she’s okay. We could put her in the medical bay?”

“No. She stays here,” Nick snapped back quickly. Beck didn’t flinch, not phased by the icy mood of his boss. “Do the IV here.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get the stuff from downstairs if you want to get her into bed for me. Her body is pretty run down, so I imagine she’ll wake up when she’s got some energy back.” Not waiting for a response, Beck packed his things. On the way out, he passed Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Accidents happen. It’s okay.”

Without further comment, Beck left, leaving Nick staring at you. He could have snapped your neck and not even realised.

Nick ran a hand over his face, the memories of his sister still fresh in his mind; he couldn’t protect her or his mother, but he could keep you safe. You were the only thing that had ever made him feel human.

After the loss of his family, he’d turned into a hardened shell. But something about you and your homely scent cracked his defences. Around you, his heart was exposed. It meant he could love with a burning intensity, but also hurt just as much.

Body tensed, Nick maneuvered you carefully so the sheet and duvet shielded you from the cool night air. You were covered in your slick and Nick’s cum, but washing you was an issue he’d resolve after you’d rested.

Waiting for Beck to return, Nick pulled up an armchair to sit beside you. He’d never let you see this side of him, not for now anyway. He wasn’t ready. But with you unaware, Nick leant forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, omega.”

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#ambs answers #cherished anons #ambswrites #clockwork au #nick fowler #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #chris beck #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan fanfiction #nick fowler fanfiction #dark fic

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

The Song We Are Drawn Towards; Floyd Leech

A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.

Main Character: Floyd Leech

Supporting Roles: Mrs. Leech, Jade Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Deuce Spade (if you squint)

Content: Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match instead), gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort/crack, reader is not amused, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic and that was done on purpose, some Azul slander

Content Warning: Swearing, blood (Floyd)... just Floyd things (I love him, but he comes with his own warning). I don't want to spoil the ending but do read it with caution if it's triggering for you.

Word Count: 5 K

Author's Note: Please do not repost my works to other websites or into AI software. I will be writing more parts for this AU, but for other characters; you can guess who based on the hints I left in Azul & Jade's stories. I switch between third and second-person point of view. I struggled writing for four days and then I wrote 4.7K in one sitting, help me; that makes like 15.5K words in like a week. Don't worry, I do touch grass.

Azul's Story & Prologue | Jade's Story

Floyd was a bundle of energy, swimming all over the place, and excitedly talking to anyone and everyone who crossed paths with him. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!” He would pull at the fins and limbs. “Tell me about your soul match!!!”

Ever since he was first told the story of soul matches, he has been obsessed, wanting to hear everyone’s story that he happened to swim across. Most merfolk would just quickly swim in the opposite direction of the hyperactive young eel-mer. Others would humour him and tell him what it felt like. But his favourite by far was that of his parents.

“Mommmmmm,” he whined, clutching onto her tail fin so that she couldn’t leave. “Can you tell me the story of what it felt like feeling your soul match for the first time? And what it was like meeting dad?~” He looked at her with his biggest pleading eyes, even though he has heard the story at least a hundred times from both his mom and dad. “Pretty pleaseeeeeee?!~”

Mrs Leech giggled, and sat down on Floyd’s bed, kissing him on the cheek. “Aren’t you tired of hearing it, my little eel?”

Floyd clutched onto her arm, “Nuh-uh!”

She shook her head, amused by his insistence. “Well, for me, the song felt like the heat from the hydrothermal vents at the bottom of the ocean; down there it may seem dark and lifeless, but there was a scorching heat that feeds all life.” She hummed, smoothing over a little nick that she noticed on Floyd’s arm. “And the pull… hmm, it was gentle, like the tugging of a cool current.”

Floyd sighed with contentment, finally settling down for the night. “Mom, what do you think my soul match will be like?”

Mrs. Leech tucked his hair behind his ear, “There’s no way to tell before it happens, my little elver. Only the Sea Witch knows, and she’s very secretive about those sorts of things.” She got a mischievous look on her face and kissed his nose. “But whoever is your soul match, be they mer, fae, beastman, or human, they will be lucky to have you.” 

“Mommmm,” he tried to push her off, but he didn’t mean it, his giggling giving it away. He got serious for a moment and hugged his mom. “No matter who they are, I won’t leave the ocean for them. I love you, mom.”

Mrs. Leech squished her son against her, placing her head on top of his. “I love you more, baby… And whatever decision you make, to stay in the ocean or go live on land, I will always love and support you.” Holding onto him tight, she placed a kiss on his forehead. “And that goes for you too, Jade, I know you’ve been eavesdropping.”

The mass of blankets on the bed on the other side of the room stirred, revealing Jade who was acting like he totally wasn’t listening in on their conversation. “I know, mother. I love you too,” he whispered, letting out a yawn, tired from the day.

“Oh, how did I get so lucky to have not one but two sweet sons?” Mrs Leech, still holding onto Floyd, swam over to Jade’s bed and had him in a tight squeezing hug. “I love my little elvers!”

Both of the boys accepted the squeezes, Jade patting his mom on the shoulder and Floyd giving back his own tight squeeze. Like mother like son, as some would say. “We love you too, mom,” they said in unison. And they all sat there, in a big eel squeeze.

…

…

When he woke up on his sixth birthday he was confused. Why wasn’t there a song in his head? Where is his soul match? 

The good mood that he was bound to be in that day morphed into confusion, hurt, and anger. But not like the anger he was used to, it wasn’t a hot, short, spark, instead, it felt festering, an ember wanting nothing more than to combust. So instead of staying around his brother, who only pissed him off even more because, of course, Jade got his soul match. He swam out to the edge of the reef so that he could be alone.

“ARGH,” he lashed out at a rock, scratching at it with his claws. “WHY?! WHY ME?!” He screamed out into the drop-off, no answer but the dark looking back at him. He felt hot, briny tears start to fall down his face. He had dreamt of this day since he could remember. He wanted someone to not be scared of him. For someone to look at him with joy. For someone to accept him. “WHERE ARE THEY?!”

By the time he got out the initial rage at his situation, he floated down into the sand and looked up to the filtered sunlight coming up from above. He was still angry, but it was something small, and it felt like there was something stuck in his throat and he couldn’t get it out. Sighing, he closed his eyes… I really should go home, mom and dad are probably worried…

Wait, what was tickling him? Ugh, that’s annoying. “Scram off, would ya,” he muttered, opening an eye.

Beside him was a cleaner shrimp, going over the new scrapes he had given himself during his moment of anger.

“Eh? A little shrimp like you is brave,” he chuckled, poking one of its feelers. 

The shrimp ignored the poke, still cleaning the wounds before moving up and going through his hair. Floyd was half tempted to swat it away for bothering him, but he didn’t. For some reason, he found the shrimp’s actions comforting. Like the ocean sent this little cleaning crustacean to help him heal. He was still mad, hurt, and confused, but if some shrimp didn’t mind him, even at his most volatile moment, then maybe not everything is as bad as it seems.

Eventually, though, he had to leave his new little friend and go home, and face his family. He wore a happy mask when he entered the home, trying to hide the festering part of his heart.

“FLOYD!” His mom crashed into him, squeezing him tight. “Where were you?! I was worried sick! Are those scrapes? What happened to you?!”

He squeezed her back, not as strong as he would normally, debating whether or not to tell her the truth. But he saw his dad and Jade whispering to each other, no doubt talking about his soul match. His eye twitched, “I was just curious about where they were,” he whispered. He wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t the entire truth. The truth could always come later.

…

…

…

Floyd was walking around campus, bored out of his mind. Azul and Jade were at the entrance ceremony for the new minnows. As was his main source of entertainment. It wasn’t his fault that Riddle was so amusing when he gets all red from anger, just like a goldfish. So he was just going around, a bad mood apparent, so people quickly walked in the opposite direction when they saw him.

“Ugh! There’s nothin’ interestin’ hereeeee,” he muttered to himself. Even getting lectured by Beakfish is better than utter boredom. He rolled his eyes, thinking about Azul giving his stuffy formal speech to the new minnows in their dorm. “Tch, boring.”

Hmm, the sun did sure feel nice though. Maybe he would take a nap like Sea Lion did. So he found somewhere where he wouldn’t be disturbed, stretched out, and closed his eyes, dreaming about the Coral Sea. 

In his dream, he was back near the drop-off, by the rock he nearly destroyed during his outburst when he first realized he didn’t have a soul match. Over the years, he wasn’t nearly as bitter as he once was, but it still stung. But he was alone, his little shrimp friend was nowhere to be seen. “Little shrimp,” he called out, but his crustacean friend didn’t appear. Maybe they too got tired of Floyd and left. Or maybe they were… maybe a predator finally caught up with his little friend, as he always thought they were too brave for their own good.  “Little shrimp?” He called again, but still nothing. But then a net came down from above, catching Floyd in its wake. He struggled, but something else was there. A faint song.

Floyd gasped awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding and racing. “It was just a dream, snap out of it,” he hissed to himself, shaking his head. Ugh, why did it feel like he was still caught in that net though? And that song was still stuck in his head. Stupid dreams.

Oh, the sun is setting, Azul and Jade have got to be done with sorting out the freshmen by now. Heh, wonder if there are any interestin’ minnows around? Eh, Azul is bound to bring some entertainment by getting some chump in a contract. That at least would bring in some fun. 

Groaning, he stretched out and got up, making his way back to Octavinelle, still not quite in a good mood but not in a bad one. He was just floating in between.

Azul and Jade were conversing among themselves when he entered the room, Azul looking more agitated than he would normally. Huh, that’s intriguing. 

“Somethin’ has all your tentacles in a bunch, Azul.~” He leaned against the house warden’s chair, getting into his personal bubble. Ugh, he still felt weird, and that song was still there.

Azul shot him an annoyed look but ignored him trespassing in on his space. “It has nothing to concern you with, Floyd,” he huffed, massaging his temple. 

If even mentioning that it has nothing to do with him, it just puts Floyd on a mission to discover exactly what it was.

Jade chuckled, mirth in his eyes. “He will just keep on pestering you if you don’t tell him, Azul” his smile was sharp and he looked over to his brother, his smile widening. Floyd also smiled, getting further into Azul’s bubble.

“Fine,” Azul snipped, “if you must know the ceremony didn’t go exactly as planned.” This didn’t satisfy Floyd, as he just got further into the bubble, prodding. Azul sighed, knowing it would just be better to get it over with so he didn’t have to put up with the eel’s antics. “I had to clean up someone’s mess, chasing their wayward familiar throughout campus. They also sent the mirror into a tizzy. Satisfied?”

Well, that wasn’t all that interesting. “Awwww, and I thought you’d finally met your cuttlefish, Azullll,” he whined but got out of his personal bubble.

Azul’s eye twitched at the nickname Floyd had dubbed his soul match but didn’t say anything, knowing that if he did, it would just end up with him lying in bed with a splitting migraine. “No,” he dusted off his chest, “we have no control over when we meet our soul matches, and you know that.”

Oh, Floyd knew that very well, he didn’t need Azul subtly shoving it in his face either. Even if the other man wasn’t privy that Floyd didn’t have a soul match.

…

…

It’s been about three weeks since Floyd had that dream, still feeling like he was stuck in a net, and that infernal hum of a song hasn’t left his mind. By now, everyone on campus was aware that it was better to avoid him than risk getting on his bad side. Ugh, is this what it feels like to have a soul match? 

He squinted his eyes, and stopped dead in his tracks, pausing in the middle of the hall. Is this what it feels like to have a soul match? His eyes went wide, still frozen in the hallway. IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO HAVE A SOUL MATCH?! After all this time, was there finally someone?

He started running, letting the pulling sensation guide him. Feeling the ebb and flow of it, the only kind shared with soul matches. The dream! Maybe the Sea Witch sent it to him? Finally gifted him the blessing that she has given others? He tested the waters by messing with the volume of the song in their head and he felt it falter like they were surprised by it. Where are you? But as soon as he started giving chase he stopped. People gave him weird looks, but he paid no mind to them.

His hands turned into fists, and he shook slightly, his joy and excitement shifted into bitterness and anger. WHERE ARE YOU?! He shouted at them through the song, letting out over a decade of bottled-up emotions into the open. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! But all he got in return was the gentle hum that had started it all.

“Floyd, are you alright? You seem out of sorts,” Jade hummed, eyes boring into his soul, searching for what could have possibly caused the sudden running. Calculating.

Floyd frowned back at his brother, but he knew that he couldn’t just outright tell him, as he hadn’t told anyone about his soul match situation. So instead he bit down on the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw a bit of blood to distract himself. “Eh, thought I just saw Goldfishie, but it was just someone else.”

Where are you? Where the fuck are you?! Where were you for all these years?!

…

…

You were enjoying some lunch with your friends — if you can call Ace and Grim your friends. At least Deuce was considerate enough to make up for it… most of the time. The four of you were chatting, mainly Grim and Ace complaining about homework and the professors, but your mind was elsewhere. In the three short weeks that you’ve found yourself in Twisted Wonderland, they have somehow squeezed their way into your heart, even though they make you question your life decisions on more than a daily basis. On some days it was an hourly basis.

But something else has also been on your mind than just being in some sort of dimension themed on a beloved yet problematic movie studio. There’s been a song playing in your head since you arrived. It hasn’t been very loud, but it seemed to change in its emotion frequently. You could tell when it was excited, bored, frustrated, and you had no idea why. It was fine the first day, as you just chalked it up to inter-dimension technicalities, but it has persisted.

So, there you were, sitting with your friends, enjoying your lunch. Or you were until you were rudely interrupted by the song in your head screaming at you. “Shit,” you hissed, dropping your fork, and covering your ears even though it did nothing to help with the sudden onslaught.

Ace, Deuce and Grim all gave you looks but turned back to the conversation they were having. Not thinking anything of it. But someone else noticed, pushing up his glasses before leaving. You paid no attention though, as your attention was elsewhere.

Inside your mind was a voice, it had started quiet, and full of wonder. Where are you? But then it turned venomous, bitter, sharp, and screaming. WHERE ARE YOU?! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! You didn’t really know what to make of it, and it’s not like Crowley in all of his ‘kindness’ and ‘generosity’ gave you an encyclopedia to explain any of this stuff.

Deuce shook your shoulder gently, pulling you from out of your thoughts. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been staring at your food for a while…”

You shook your head, ignoring the screaming in your head, and gave him a reassuring smile. “Ah, I’m okay, just was thinking is all. Nothing to worry about,” you shoot him a smile as reassurance. Deuce still didn’t look convinced but he trusted you and dropped the subject.

Where are you? Where the fuck are you?! Where were you for all these years?! The voice seemed to scream through the melody. WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!

…

…

…

Floyd’s mood has only been worse since finding out that he had a soul match. Even with the amount of obsessive screaming he sent their way, all they sent back was that gentle hum. Ugh, it was really annoying. He was half tempted to just hunt them down so at least he knew who he was mentally screaming at. But he would always clench his fists and stop himself. As much as he would like nothing more than to see their face as they saw him running at them, he wanted a good reason to do so. 

Yes, even though he was harassing them through the song, he wanted a reason why he should seek them out. He was just… hurt. He didn’t know how long he would feel like that, but it was something that was difficult to shove aside, even if they were the person that was supposed to make him happy. He couldn’t just forget about it.

Sighing, he clutched his shrimp plush to his chest, inspired by his shrimp friend from his childhood. “Eh, little shrimp, what should I do? Should I seek them out, or should they find me?”

The shrimp plush just looked back with its unblinking eyes. If it were his actual cleaner shrimp, they would have shuffled around in his hair, looking for scraps and reassuring him in their silent manner. Even though the plush was silent, it was still reassuring in its own way.

He heard Jade shuffling around in his sheets, but Floyd knew that Jade slept like a rock. He shook his head and walked to the Octavinelle lounge area, plopping down onto a sofa by the aquarium, criss-cross apple sauce style, still holding on to his shrimp plush. His reflection looked back out at him, eyes searching, but there were no answers. Just his own conflicted thoughts, the gentle humming of his soul match, and the snores coming from some dorms.

The gentle pitter-patter of footsteps took him away from just staring into the aquarium. “Azul?”

The footsteps and intruder on Floyd’s pondering and staring at the aquarium time was none other than Azul, wearing his house robe, matching slippers, and a hair bonnet. Azul squinted his eyes, as he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Floyd,” he sounded just as equally confused to find someone else awake at this un-Sevenly-like hour. “What are you doing up?”

“Eh, couldn’t sleep,” he wasn’t in the mood to tease Azul for his sleep get up. “You?”

Azul sighed, “You and I are in the same boat then… don’t you dare utter a word about this to Jade.”

Floyd looked down at his shrimp plush and looked back up, “Don’t mention it.” He looked back into the aquarium, most of the fish were hidden away for the night, but other sea creatures were swimming and scuttling about.

Azul cleared his throat and continued on with his business, whatever that might be at this hour, leaving the eel to his thoughts. Perhaps he could solve not just Floyd’s current down mood but also answer someone’s burning questions.

…

…

…

By some cruel twist of fate, you found yourself in the Mostro Lounge VIP room against your will, having been carried there by none other than Jade Leech. You would have put up a fight, but in all honesty, you would rather be carried bridal style than like a sack of potatoes. You don’t even know how you ended up in this situation, last time you checked, you hadn’t made a deal with the scheming house warden of Octavinelle. So why did he seek you out?

“Prefect, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve been… troubled,” he said in his overly nice business voice.

You squinted your eyes at him, knowing better than to trust anything he says at face value. “And what exactly have you heard,” you countered. 

Azul looked at Jade and he exited the room. That doesn’t seem like a good sign. He waited for a few moments before continuing. “That you’ve been distracted, not all there. Oh, don’t give me that look, I don’t want a contract with you,” he rolled his eyes upon seeing the stink eye you were giving him.

“Then what do you want, Azul? Last time I checked you only did things for others if you got more out of the deal than them.” Yeah, you were being sassy, but he tricked your friends, your dumb friends, so he deserved the attitude.

Azul sputtered at the comment before pulling himself together. “I’m just looking out for others in the same boat as us.”

You raised your brow, “Us?”

“Yes, us, Prefect,” he pinched his brow. “I take it that you have a song in your head?” You nodded and he took it as a sign to continue with his monologue. “Much as I suspected then. You have a soul match, which I take wherever you’re from doesn’t have. You have a bond with a mer. It can be familial, platonic and or romantic, a match made by the Sea Witch herself.”

You blinked, letting all of that sink in. “Uh, but why?” Literally, why? Why would the Sea Witch match you with a merperson?

Azul just gave you a look, “Why not? It is not for us to question why the Sea Witch chooses our matches.”

“We should question it though,” you snap at him. “We should question everything! Like why? Who is it to determine our fate?” The stress of the past few weeks had finally caught up, and you were scared, stretched too thin, and tired, so damn tired. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask for any of this!” You smacked your hands against the desk. You were going to say more but shut your mouth. You were talking to Azul Ashengrotto, who was known for using others' weaknesses against them. Why were you letting this all out into the open with him of all people?

Azul sat there, with a small shocked expression. “Just let me know if you want help finding them,” he slid you a piece of paper. Despite your better judgement, you take it, shoved it into your bag and left without saying anything else. “Hope to speak with you soon, Pre-”

You slam the door in his face before he could say anything else, shaking slightly. Sighing to yourself, you take out the piece of paper, now crumpled and creased.

“A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.” That is what the Sea Witch told us. I know what you think of me, Prefect, but all I want is for you two to meet. If you wish to seek them out please feel free to see me. - Azul Ashengrotto

…

…

Floyd sat in the Octavinelle pool, still festering over everything. Even though he was still in his human form, he didn’t want to leave the pool. Everything was quiet until he hissed in pain. Ah, so after all this time his soul match decides to make a commotion? Damn, they sounded pissed, their anger clear in the song… but also tired, so tired. Huh, so maybe they weren’t too different from him.

Where are you? He sang, reaching out softly this time. He didn’t like this feeling, at least not from them.

Surprisingly the song snapped back at him, much like his shrimp friend would when he came to them all banged up. Why do you want to know?!

Well, that gave him pause. Heh, maybe this Shrimpy was more gutsy than he gave them credit for. Heh!~ I want to findddd youuuuu!~ He sang, a giggle escaping his lips.

I don’t want you to find me! Leave me alone! I didn’t ask for this! I don’t know you! Stranger danger! STRANGER DANGER! 

Floyd could imagine a shrimp scuttling back and forth, snapping their pinchers at him and it made him laugh even more. Awww, Shrimpy!~ I’mma hunt your ass down nowwww!~

The song rang sharp, oh yeah, he would be hearing a ringing in his ears for a few hours due to that. GO AWAY!

I’m comin’ for yo ass, here I comeeeeee~ He laughed one more time before pulling himself from the pool, excited for what was about to come. You kept me waitin’ for this long, only fair for me to find you!~

Azul could hear Floyd’s laughter from his office. This wasn’t exactly how he was imagining on helping Floyd find his soul match, but oh well, it’s best for them to meet on their own terms anyway. Hey, you could have done it the calm way, but with Floyd as your soul match, he should have expected the eel to do things the… well, the Floyd way.

So Floyd went running down the hallway, still soaking wet and dripping water everywhere, laughing like a madman. Some other mers looking for their soul matches gave him weird looks, but they minded their own business. “Oh, Shrimpyyyyyyyyy!~ Where are youuuuu?~” He sang out, still laughing.

Meanwhile, you were on the way back to Ramshackle, eyes shifting everywhere since your soul match seemed to change their tune all of a sudden. I’m coming to get your ass, Shrimpy!~ Kept on being sung in the song, so yeah, you were rightfully scared shitless by this entire situation. Who the hell wouldn’t be if they were in your shoes?! So you were trying to make a beeline back to the safety of your dorm. Maybe you should have made that contract with Azul after all… instead of being hunted for sport by someone that some octopus lady decided was your match. And why did they insist on calling you Shrimpy? Weren’t shrimps like the cockroaches of the ocean? What the hell my guy?

“SHRIMPY WHERE ARE YOU?!~” A loud voice rang down the hall.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. You chanted to yourself. Should you try to make a last-ditch effort to make it to the safety of your dorm, or should you hide in the broom closet until they leave? Run? Hide? The increasingly fast footsteps made the decision for you. It was a dumb decision, yes…

...You booked it.

I HEAR YOU RUNNING SHRIMPY!~ They sang in your head with glee. Heh, cute that you think you can escape me!~ Best hope you’re a fast runner Shrimpy!~

What was their issue?! LEAVE ME ALONE! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!

They pouted. They had the audacity to pout?! But Shrimpyyyy, you’re my soul match! Stop runnin’ so I can catch you! My ‘problem’ is that I don’t have you!

Oh Sevens, you can hear them catching up with you. You would never make it to Ramshackle at this point. Shit. Maybe you should have hidden in that broom closet… THERE! An open door! You got in and quietly shut the door, holding your breath.

“Shrimpyyyyyyy! Marco!” They called out, running past the door. “Come on, Shrimpy! It’s not nice to hide!~”

Once you couldn’t hear their footsteps or their horrifying version of Marco-Pollo, you took in some much-needed air. Silently thanking your lucky stars that they went by your hiding spot. Yeah, maybe you would sleep in here for the night since they would still be able to get you until the sun rises… if you could even sleep.

SHRIMPYYYYYY, WHERE ARE YOU?~ OH SHRIMPYYYYYYY!~ Yeah, definitely not sleeping. So you sat in the closet until you saw the rays of sunlight seep beneath the cracks.

Yeah, you’re taking Azul up on his offer, since this is starting to feel like a horror movie and not something from fanfiction you would read back at home.

…

You looked everywhere before setting foot into the Octavinelle pool room since your soul match was definitely in there somewhere. “Pst, Azul?” You called out, hoping that he would answer.

His head popped up from the pool, a faint glow coming from beneath the water. “Ah, Prefect. Did you change your mind?” 

If by change your mind you mean be scared shitless, then yes. But you held the comment back. Eugh, it felt like you were being dragged into the water, but you stayed on land, the song deafening. If it was this loud for you, then it was probably the same for them. “Help me,” you pleaded with the merman.

“How so,” he said, smug.

Your eye twitched in annoyance, “They are hunting me, Azul. Hunting me!” You hissed. The water rippled, but nothing emerged. “So help me, Ashengrotto!”

But the air of helpfulness he had earlier was gone, this bitch. “I could just go get him for you-”

“NO!” You shouted, realizing your mistake last minute. No, no, no! NO!

Oh? Shrimpy came to me instead? Oh, Shrimpyyyyyyy?~

You tried to get away from the edge of the pool, but you weren’t fast enough; a clawed, webbed hand latched itself onto your ankle. And a familiar face smiled at you with a wide grin. “Found ya, Shrimpy!~”

You gave Floyd a sheepish smile, “Heyyyyyy, can we talk about this? Hahaha…”

Floyd just giggled before dragging you into the water with him, “Nope!~”

Ah, shit-

Bonus!

Azul and Jade looked at you and Floyd, Floyd still curled around you like an extra-large living feather boa.

“You know, not even I would be so cruel to the Prefect,” Jade looked at Azul, giving him a side-eye. But there was a large sadistic smile on his face.

Azul rolled his eyes, “I gave them the chance to meet him peacefully, and they chose not to. It’s not my fault. And you are a horrible liar, Jade.”

Jade just chuckled before looking back at his brother. “Hmm, it’s Floyd, so we both know it would most likely end in something… chaotic.”

Azul sighed, but he was happy for Floyd… and glad that his bad mood was gone, dealing with that for the past few weeks has been hell.

“AZUL! JADE!” You yelled, trying to pry off the eel, “HELP ME!”

But the two just looked on and didn’t interfere.

Fin!

I'm really happy with how all of Octavinelle's parts came out, and I had a lot of fun writing the characters. I have 7 more characters for the Soul Match AU planned for the future; no promises of when those will come out though, mainly waiting for more lore... since SOMEBODY seems to get the most traffic.

Hoped you enjoyed reading!

Link to Masterlist

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x gn reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x gn reader #twst x reader #jade leech #azul ashengrotto #mrs leech #tweels #twst soulmate au #twst floyd #twst jade #twst azul #it was floyd's turn in the paper bag; he has been successfully shaken <3 #also azul got to play match maker this time... and then he decided that you needed to suffer #octavinelle #feeding all the fish kissers rn #in order to write this I HAD to listen to meme music or else I couldn't write; whereas for azul and jade it had to be silent; payback ig #and I don't know what compelled me to make a shrimp befriend floyd; I just thought it was cute #now I want to make a shrimp plush as well as an eel plush so they can be friends #and I love the hc that floyd is like his mom so I included that

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Villainess AU Headcanons

I’ve been on a real fantasy kick lately, and that’s not stopping with post. This is a plot bunny that’s been hopping around in my mind for a while, and it snatched up my Dragon Jack AU headcanons from the previous posts, along with the tragic short story of Alice remembering how she died in her past life as Mary to become a bigger bunny. This is the long overdue and previously teased Villainess AU!

Content warnings before we begin: this post touches on topics of infidelity, betrayal, yandere obsession, attempted mind control, death, chronic illness, trauma, and a bit of spice to lighten it up. This shouldn’t get too dark or smutty, but who knows where indulging in my OTP will take me?

On that note, I might wind up using some art from the game/teasers/merch/etc. in this post, so I’m going to go ahead and give a shout out to SnaccPop Studios’ patreon. Consider joining to see some exclusive stuff! Credit to them for this game that has given me plot bunnies that are constantly multiplying.

Anyway, the villainess genre, for those unaware, is a subgenre of the transmigrator genre, which in turn is a subgenre of isekai stories. Typically it takes an otome - a dating sim game aimed at women with a female protagonist - and has the world within that story be real. The main character, a fan of the dating sim, is reborn in the world of this dating sim, not as the protagonist, but as the evil villainess rival who gets in the protagonist’s way and inevitably meets a terrible end regardless of the route taken, often going through much humiliation in the process. The main character then has to avoid her horrible fate and overturns the original story, oftentimes becoming the one the love interests are drawn to instead of the original female protagonist.

Naturally, there are stories that tweak the formula around and subvert expectations, but that’s the basic gist of the genre.

Now Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack is a dating sim, but there’s a distinct lack of a villainess character involved in the plot, which makes sense since Jack fills the antagonist role in every route pretty well. This means that a villainess AU would have the world of the in-universe game be different from the game that we can actually play in our world over on steam and itch. If you’d like to see my ideas on an isekai that takes place in the game as we know it, check it out in this previous post over here.

So let’s start with the AU’s in-universe game itself, and what classic otome roles our favorite male leads might take. While I could cast Ian in the prince role once again like I did with the dragon AU and the fantasy incubus Jack AU, I think we all know who the real ruler of SDJ is.

Thus Jack gets the role of the crown prince. Now, we could have this be a standard fantasy kingdom, but I feel inclined to give it a SunnyTime Town AU twist. Much like in the Aphrodisia crossover Mafia AU, our favorite clown family is a powerful ruling family, only with magic and clown gimmicks instead of guns. Shaun, Nick, and Ian aren’t their typical selves in this universe, but they too get a nice colorful makeover and some spiffy titles, as shown in these limited edition trading cards. Thanks to Crispy for sharing pictures of the cards, and credit to Sauce for creating the amazing artwork in the first place.

Since we’re talking about the cards, how about we shake things up and leave the star of the show for last so we can show off the clown counterparts of the other three male leads.

Ian Duff has the title of Sir Sweet Dreams, and is a knight in this AU, part of the illustrious order of the Night-Knights. His hair is a shade of violet-blue, with face paint that gives him some blue splotches and stars. The Duffs are a noble family, and Ian struggles with the weight of obligation as the firstborn son. He’s not suited for combat, being a pacifist at heart. The otome’s main character (who I will call OMC for simplicity) would help Ian choose his heart over his duty when going down his route, and fight for the future that he wants instead of what his family expects.

Shaun Durand-Cofer is a member of the mage tower, with white and gray face paint and glowing golden eyes, given the nickname of Glad-Pire due to his cheerful personality and his specialization in studying the secrets of dark magic. He’s still our favorite goth butterball, even as a magical clown, and he has MoonPie as his familiar. In the original otome game, OMC would help him deal with the doubts that he’s been having about studying dark magic. He’s been a great benefit to the kingdom, but many are suspicious of his motives, not trusting dark magic in any form, and his relatives are ashamed of him despite the good he’s done.

Nick Herrera’s clown identity with his white and blue face paint is an interesting one, with the title of Sous Chef Sweetly, his job in the trading cards is very different from his employment in the game. Now, typically fantasy otome games don’t have our OMC romancing a chef, but they do have love interests who are wonderful at cooking. Regardless if he is a sous chef or a dom in this universe, Nick is a member of the nobility, and is quite popular with people. He has countless suitors wanting his hand, and he’s known as a ladies’ (and more) man. However, despite his reputation and charming personality, in reality he’s just a shy dork who struggles to make a genuine human connection. In the otome game, OMC sees past his status and reputation that others have placed on him, and sees him for the awkward guy he is deep down inside.

Finally, let’s talk about Jack, or rather him and the rest of the Blouin family. King Marceau and Queen Lucy rule together over this colorful country, and are known to be just and fair. Jack, their second born child, is crown prince and heir to the throne. Their eldest child, Jane, would have been next in line if she didn’t make it very clear from an early age that she did not want the role. She would rather travel the world as a free spirit, not weighed down by the weight of the crown, so she left it to her little brother to take care of in her place.

Fortunately, Jack has accepted his role with dignity and grace. He’s known to always be smiling, a prince everyone admires and desires. Deep down though, he has insecurities about everyone only seeing him for the title of king that he will one day inherit. They see the prince first and Jack second. He always had the option to pass on the role to his younger sibling, but young Jo is a sensitive soul, and Jack couldn’t force them to carry such a heavy burden. He accepted the role of heir from Jane gladly, and he was always sure he could handle it, but doubts creep in that OMC helps him work through as they see Jack for who he is and not for the crown he must one day wear.

Now, the role of the villainess in these games is to act as a romantic rival, the person who stands in the way of OMC getting together with one of the love interests. There can be one that gets in OMC’s way no matter who they pursue, or each love interest could have a “villainess” who gets together with them should the OMC fail their route. Typically, if there’s at least one villainess, she’s engaged to one of the love interests in an arranged marriage set up by their parents. She’s also obsessed with power, and typically the crown prince. This is why she’s usually the prince’s fiancee, who is clearly unfit to be queen.

But why not make things a bit spicier? The villainess in this otome game is an arranged marriage to Ian, but she wants to marry Prince Jack instead to become queen. In Ian’s route, she abuses him similarly to his mother, making him feel like he’s not good enough for her. However, when OMC gets closer to Ian in his route, they get on the villainess’ nerves and she gives them a hard time despite not actually caring for Ian. It’d be like seeing someone steal your toy away when you weren’t ready to discard it. The general vibe is, “I don’t want him, but no one else is allowed to have what’s mine!”

For Shaun’s route, the villainess would be tricking him, using his knowledge of black magic for selfish ends without him realizing it. In the bad end, he would be arrested and executed for treason, as the villainess used him to help her make a love potion that she used on Prince Jack. She, of course, also is executed, because the villainess doesn’t win regardless of the route. The OMC would have to find out about the villainess’ schemes to clear Shaun’s name and prevent the potion from being used.

In Nick’s route, the villainess is jealous of his popularity. He’s also probably a stepping stone in her plots to bewitch and seduce the prince. She’s less of a central antagonist in this route for the OMC, but still an annoyance that gets a bad end regardless of how Nick’s route ends, because the villainess having countless bad ends is kind of the punchline.

Then of course there’s Jack’s route. Naturally, being the one the villainess is lusting after and wants to bewitch, the conflict with the OMC is more pronounced in this route for obvious reasons. OMC must stop the villainess’ countless bullying tactics and schemes in order to have a happy ending.

Basically, it’s the classic otome game setup, with a touch of colorful clown face paint for flare.

Now, the actual MC, the character we’d be playing as in this AU, would be a fan of the otome game. Perhaps playing it is their guilty pleasure. They’re familiar with all the routes. Then, one day, they wake up in the body of the villainess in classic transmigrator isekai fashion.

Although the role of villainess is typically for cis females, MC is whatever gender we decide they should be. There’s a lot of possibilities to explore how an AMAB MC might react to suddenly having an AFAB body, or perhaps whatever force of the universe that made them take the role changed it so that the “villainess” is whatever gender MC was in their previous life, or whatever gender that is true to them.

MC would then be left with the choice of how to handle living in this world and the role they were expected to play. The obvious solution would be to avoid anything having to do with the OMC or seducing Jack, but typically it’s not that easy for the MC to avoid the other characters in a villainess story, especially if they’re engaged to Ian. This is especially true if they start feeling attracted to Jack despite knowing the many bad ends that might await them down that path.

There’s a lot of variables with a general MC and how that would affect the villainess character, as well as what they made of that character. That’s why this ramble took a while to make. I got too caught up on the broader picture, and kept waffling back and forth on things.

So let’s narrow our focus, shall we?

Alice takes the role of villainess in this story. In the original game, the character Alice is spoiled, greedy, vain, gluttonous, and just an overall unpleasant rival that is meant to be the clear-cut bad guy that the player should take great pleasure in seeing get a most unpleasant and humiliating end. You know, the typical chubby antagonist whose weight is the reason why they are deemed repulsive and the butt of the universe’s jokes.

In a way, Alice is forced to take up an unpleasant role like her acting teacher warned her she would be pigeonholed into in the main universe. Only, in this case, she’s expected to live the part.

Of course, unlike a lot of stories in this genre where the villainess starts off chubby and goes through a story arc where they quickly lose weight, Alice is going to stay chubby in this AU, because as long as one is healthy, their size and shape doesn’t matter. It won’t stop people from making fun of her for her size, but it also won’t stop her from being beautiful and worthy of love.

Since this is a reincarnation story, naturally Alice’s previous incarnation was Mary. Since otome games weren’t really a thing in the USA in the early 80’s, the world would instead be based off of a storybook, or a series of stories. It could even be a tween romance series where the main character romances a different guy in the same setting, something super self-indulgent where the protagonist may as well be a build-it-yourself OC with how little detail they have. In this AU, it was a series that was a guilty pleasure when Mary was young that she probably cringed at when looking at it again later in life.

It would also provide a huge tonal whiplash to suddenly find herself in the role of such a series’ villainess after dying such a sad and lonely death in the hospital. Instead of waking up in the comforting arms of her lover in the next life, she wakes up in a lavish mansion with memories of the character she was reborn to play blending in with her sad former life.

It would be interesting if, as a kid, Mary envied the OMC for all the adventures and love she got, only to go back to the series as an adult and see all the awful messages. Many protagonists in the genre wind up empathizing with the villainess, seeing where the story painted them in an unfair light, and things about Alice in the story wound up striking too close to home now that she saw them as an adult, and the OMC is a lot more childish and self-centered than she remembered.

It’d still be strange for anyone to wake up in the role of an antagonist they sympathized with, especially when their last memory was filled with so much grief, pain, and trauma.

While I am tempted that Alice just wakes up one day with Mary’s memories, I think it would be more fitting that they were triggered. In the original story, the first time Alice saw the crown prince at a party, she fell obsessively in love with him. However, in this case, his familiar face reminded her instantly of Joseph, and struck her with a painful nostalgia that rocked her to her core, awakening her memories of her previous life and how she died.

Alice collapses from the shock on the spot. All the memories of pain and love colliding and blending in with this new reality hit her all at once, overwhelming her completely. To onlookers, she’s a noble lady who merely fainted, possibly swooning at the sight of the crown prince, or because of some sudden illness.

It, understandably, takes Alice a while to reconcile the two sets of memories… especially when she realizes that she’s been reborn in the world of a story with many possible endings… as the hated villainess who is going to meet one of many awful ends.

Alice grieves for Joseph and everything she lost as Mary all over again. Prince Jack is so painfully similar to Joseph… especially if the SunnyTime Crew Show existed in her previous life. It’d be so shockingly coincidental, too coincidental, and it’d be hard for her to know what to make of it. Even if the show and the character of Sunny Day Jack didn’t exist, she would still wonder if maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one reborn.

At the same time, Alice knows the original story. The Alice in the story was obsessed over Jack. What if she goes down the same path, leading to the doom of not only herself, but possibly even her family who enabled the villainess’ rampage in the series?

Since Alice would regain her memories the first time she saw Jack, it would most likely be a point in time before the stories were supposed to begin, perhaps even when she is still a child before she gains that villainess reputation in the first place. It might be fitting too, since the first time she and Joseph met was as children. In a way, it’s like they had their first meeting all over again, only she’s the one who needed to be taken away for medical assistance.

This leaves Alice in a difficult place. Should she find out if Jack really is Joseph? What if he doesn’t remember their past lives? What if she’s wrong and the universe is playing yet another cruel joke on the villainess Alice?

What if this is why the character Alice was so dangerously obsessed over Jack? The story was primarily focused on the OMC, not really touching on the reasons why Alice was so desperate to be with Jack beyond an apparent desire for power. The stories never really talked about her family, which Mary is surprised is so loving, even to the point of spoiling Alice. She wished for a family who loved her this much, and now she has it. She’s not alone anymore.

 The original story has so many paths that lead to her doom. Mary Phoenix is dead, and she is now Alice of house Rose. There was nothing left for her in the life she left, and in this new life she doesn’t hurt like she used to. She has so much more in this life, everything she dreamed of during those long and lonely nights she spent sick in her room.

The only thing missing is her starlight, but… if he would be happier without her… she’ll leave Jack be. The prince in the stories was always disgusted by the villainess and adored the OMC no matter what route the OMC took. Mary helped Joseph get the job of Sunny Day Jack that led to his death. If Prince Jack really is Joseph reborn like she suspects, he’s loved by all. She knows from the stories and what she has heard that he has a loving family, and the love of an entire kingdom.

Perhaps the best thing for Alice to do is to be content with the life she has now. She has a loving family, wealth enough to do practically anything she wants, status, and, well, Ian was a sweet character. They’re not engaged yet at this time, but maybe an arranged marriage with him wouldn’t be so bad? She had met him before regaining her memories as Mary, and he seemed quite nice. Also, as a reader she did think that the villainess Alice would’ve been happier if she just was satisfied with her fiance Ian.

It doesn’t change the fact that Alice still misses Joseph. She still loves him more than anything. The pain of his death is fresh in her mind. Would it really be so selfish just to see if perhaps Jack really is her starlight reborn? Would she still be a villainess wanting to have some sort of relationship with him? She’s not the character Alice. She won’t be so cruel, and certainly wouldn’t use mind altering potions on anybody.

Alice is left torn on what the right thing to do is. The story ends miserably for her in so many ways, but this isn’t a story, this is her reality now. Love taken too far can become obsession. What if she projects her memories of Joseph onto Jack? That wouldn’t be fair to him. He might never remember… or he might be someone else entirely. He might just look like her starlight, with the name of the character he played when he died, the same character she came up with as the show’s writer. The same role that led to his death. It would be so cruel if he wasn’t Joseph, but then again, this world is very cruel to its villainess.

It’s this sort of internal war that keeps Alice secluded from the world and society for a while. She needs time to sort through these memories and thoughts. She needs to grieve and remember the story to figure out what the right path forward is. This seclusion and sudden drastic change in her mood worries her family. They don’t know what’s wrong with her, and she won’t open up to them, as there’s no way to explain without sounding like a lunatic.

Eventually, Alice would come to the conclusion that she should keep a respectable distance between her and Jack. If he is Joseph and remembers her… it’s all she could ask for. But she won’t go down the path of forcing it. She won’t force him to have a relationship, to love her, and she certainly won’t force him to be what she wants. She will accept that Joseph is dead and that she must move on and somehow find a happy ending despite the role she has been given. Whatever relationship she might have with Jack in the future, she won’t forcefully bind him to her just because of a past that was now dead.

Jack, however, has different plans.

Come on, you can’t expect me to let things end like that for my OTP. I’m a sucker for happy endings after all. Besides, we’ve still got to add some yandere spice to the mix even if Alice is refusing to play the part like the villainess character did.

Despite Alice’s fears, Jack is indeed Joseph reborn. He has a passing familiarity with the story, since he knew that it was Mary’s favorite series as a child. He took interest in the things she liked, even if they didn’t resonate with him the way it did with her. However, the original story doesn’t matter to him. The instant he saw his sunshine’s face for the first time, he knew, he just knew that he couldn’t let her go.

Just like Alice has trauma from her death, Jack does as well. Whatever supernatural curse bound Joseph to the tape led to the pair being reborn in this world. Perhaps he figured out a way to escape his hell, or change its form, leading to the creation of this world while also bringing Mary’s soul into this new world he created. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Mary was the one who came up with the concept of the SunnyTime Crew show in the first place and was one of the writers. Perhaps the wish she made at the end of her life changed both their fates, and she was the one responsible for this world’s existence. Perhaps it was a mixture of all these things, or something else entirely that led to this situation. For all we know, a trickster god decided to meddle with things to give them a new life where they might have a second chance.

Perhaps a trickster dragon god who wants to see her OTP live a new life in a different world where they can be happy together and is a fan of the villainess transmigration genre. ;3

Whatever the case, Jack won’t let anyone take his sunshine away. He isn’t Joseph anymore. They can have a fresh start, a new life without the sins of Joseph Cullman to weigh him down. He can create the life for the two of them that he always wished to make. He can be whatever he wants to be, including a prince charming that will give his sunshine whatever her heart desires.

The time Jack spent in hell left him with nightmares of cold nights, lost and alone even before consciously remembering his past life. He clung to his family more because of it, being somewhat of a spoiled baby, but their love helped him not feel so alone. Even still, something was missing, a hole in his heart that ached to be filled.

Being a prince, Jack sees countless faces. He has to remember so many people in order to be a good king one day. He often goes to parties to greet countless nobles, but none of them caught his attention like Alice.

Initially, Jack didn’t see Alice in the crowd, staring at him with wide eyes. It was the commotion that caught his attention. He heard one of the young ladies had fainted. The knights were on alert, worried about foul play. They ushered the prince to safety, but Jack dragged his feet, he kept looking back.

Then Jack caught a glimpse of her, the girl being carried off by a servant or a worried parent. Her sickly pale face was so familiar… he couldn’t place it. He struggled a little harder, wanting a better look at her, but the knights were stronger and urged him away. Something inside him screamed to go back. He had to see her properly, look in her eyes, which were twisted tightly closed.

For some reason he was certain that her eyes were a distinct shade of blue.

Jack couldn’t get Alice out of his mind. He found out her name after things calmed down. She had gotten sick. What was wrong? Oh, the family couldn’t say for sure. That wasn’t good enough of an answer for Jack. He needed to know what happened, if she was okay. He had to see her.

The glimpse of Alice was like a crack in the wall that separated Jack from his memories of Joseph. He had painful flashes, nightmares of a life filled with regrets that only had a few shining moments of happiness.

The brightest light in that darkened life was the one with eyes the color of the sky at dawn.

Jack kept petitioning to visit Alice, under the excuse that he wanted to wish her well, see if she was alright in person, but the Rose family politely declined each time. His concern was appreciated, but she was too unwell for visitors.

It drove Jack crazy, and it brought back memories of a hospital, of a woman whose life hung by a thread. More than once Joseph had to take Mary to the hospital even before her final days there. Being unable to see her also made him feel lonely in a way that he hadn’t felt in so, so long. He felt so very, very cold.

At some point Jack remembered names. He remembered Mary, Joseph, and the tragic way his life and career ended with exposed sins and gunfire. He also remembered what came after, the cold emptiness and pain that tore away at him, his desperation for someone, anyone to save him, to remember that he was still there.

Jack struggled with reconciling these memories. He wanted to escape from them, but at the same time he couldn’t let go of Mary, the girl who looked so much like Alice. The memories of the story that made up the world he lived in were vague, something he remembered far later, but for now he just had to meet Alice, if only to settle the dissonance that had overtaken his mind.

The change in Jack was noticed, of course, and his family were concerned about him. He quickly remembered how to hide how he felt behind a smile. The more he remembered of the actor known as [Redacted], the better he could play the part of the cheerful, smiling prince. Being a prince really wasn’t that much different than being a kids TV show host and teacher after all. He just needed to put on a good show for everyone.

When Alice had recovered enough to leave her bedroom and try to live her new life, she was shocked to learn that the prince wanted to see her, and was surprisingly insistent about it. Although her family said that she didn’t have to see him if she was still unwell, she couldn’t turn him down. She had to see him, talk to him at least once. Then maybe, just maybe, she could figure out what she should do.

The moment they met, Alice tried to act like a proper lady, to not let on how seeing Jack face to face made her heart ache so much. She curtsied and greeted him as she was polite instead of giving in to the part of her that just wanted to throw herself into his arms and cry.

Those eyes of hers were just as bright and blue as Jack knew they would be. He knew that he was right. Alice was Mary, his sunshine. She acted as if she didn’t recognize him, but maybe it was better that way. They could start over as Jack and Alice. They could forget all the mistakes, all the pain.

This time, Jack would do everything right.

Jack was charming during their meeting. He expressed concern about Alice fainting at the party, offering her a gift that left her confused and a bit flustered by the attention. His behavior was so kind and princely… but he didn’t recognize her. She couldn’t be sure this was Joseph or just someone with his face. Spending time with him was both wonderful and made her heart ache with longing. If she was to keep herself from becoming obsessed with him, she knew by the end of the night that she would have to keep her distance.

Of course, Jack would never allow that. He started sending Alice letters, visited her often, and invited her to the palace. Despite the painful nostalgia of their past, the time they spent together was a joy to both of them. Alice laughed at his dumb jokes for the first time in what felt like forever. It was so hard not to simply fall in love with him all over again in spite of herself.

Though they were getting closer, Jack couldn’t risk anything getting between them. By this point, he remembered some elements of the story, just the broadest strokes, but they were enough for him to remember the roles they were supposed to play… and how the “villainess” would inevitably meet a tragic fate.

In many storybook isekai stories, the protagonist writes down everything they can about the original story so they don’t forget it. I, like many readers, wonder what would happen if someone else was to come across these notes, but that plot point never comes up again.

So what if Jack, when visiting Alice one day, snoops through her things, and finds her notes about the original story? It could be what makes him remember the original series in the first place. It was so long ago since he read it, and he wasn’t a fan of it after all. His memories would be far more faint than Alice’s would be.

So many routes lead to awful deaths for Alice in this series. It’s sadistic to its villainess - banishment, imprisonment, beheading, assassination, poisoning, turning into a monster, and many other countless awful ends. There are some notes she added of potential counter-measures to escape these awful fates… including a note that she can’t let herself fall in love with Prince Jack.

Well now… Jack isn’t about to allow their story to meet a tragic end in any respect. Never again.

Jack is going to change the story, and the first change is to make sure that Alice gets engaged to him instead of Ian. Oh, his parents are surprised when he brings it up. They were going to let him choose who he wanted to marry when he was older, rather than force a choice, but Jack was adamant that he wanted to marry Alice. Arranging a marriage isn’t uncommon for nobility, and in fact talks had been going on between the Rose family and the Duff family for a while now, but those are swiftly ended.

Needless to say, Alice is shocked by the change in the narrative. She was already surprised that Jack liked her and went out of his way to spend time with her instead of avoiding her like in the books, but an engagement? Should she be happy or worried? He reminds her of Joseph, but he is different now. Is he really her starlight?

When meeting Jack next, Alice tries sounding him out. She tries to subtly bring up things about their past that only Mary and Joseph would know. Jack doesn’t acknowledge these things, redirecting conversations and distracting Alice so she doesn’t try again. If she tries being more forceful, it causes Jack to be shaken up, not wanting to be Joseph anymore, and she immediately backs off at seeing his distress. Even if she wants answers, she can’t stand the idea of hurting Jack.

The question never gets neatly resolved for Alice about whether Jack is really Joseph, but it’s hard for her not to be swept up by him. He always had a way of charming her, and they have so much fun together. Even if they are new people now, they fit so neatly together, like two puzzle pieces. Despite her resolve not to fall in love, he keeps finding ways of making her heart flutter in spite of herself.

There’s also the looming fear of the OMC and Jack falling in love with her like he did in the story, but Alice is all too aware that the story has changed. Hell, her awareness changes it in and of itself. Plus the original story was a series of stories with different routes, with no true timeline. She has no idea how the OMC is going to change things whenever she finally appears.

Alice and Jack grow up together like they did in their previous lives, only this time nothing is forcing them apart. In their own ways, they make alterations to the original story without letting the other know in order to make sure Alice won’t face a tragic end. Jack at times takes a bit more direct action against those who would hurt his sunshine.

Suffice to say, Alice falls in love with Jack in spite of herself, and eventually the truth that Jack remembers will be revealed. It’ll hurt Alice that he hid it all this time, especially since it would have reassured her so much that he remembered too. There’s going to be some drama, but in the end they love each other and want to be together. Even if the reveal might hurt after lying for so long, Alice will forgive Jack. In the end, she’ll always forgive her starlight.

In the end, Alice and Jack have their happily ever after. The memories might have left scars on their hearts, the past might have had such pain and darkness, but they can move forward. They can heal, find love and so many new connections in this life. Most of all, they’ll always find their way back to each other. Their love will bind them together forever.

As for the OMC… perhaps they get together with Ian in the end. I mean, Ian does cheat on MC in the original SDJ game, and he plays the role of the love interest who cheats with the protagonist despite being engaged in the in-universe otome game. It’d be narratively fitting.

Plus it would be kind of funny if, regardless of Jack remembering or any other connection like with Alice/Mary, MC tried to avoid their bad end by staying faithful to their fiance Ian and accept the arranged marriage… only to be cheated on when the OMC comes along, similar to the Ian route in the original story.

Man, wouldn’t it hurt even worse if MC sincerely fell in love with Ian, vowing not to cheat like the villainess did, only to wind up being the one cheated on in the end. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the teeth?

That’s pretty much all the ideas I have for the villainess AU I have for now, but it feels weird to leave it on a sour note, so here’s one last bit of fluffy OTP self-indulgence.

Jack isn’t going to wait for the wedding night to seduce Alice, though he is going to be eager to have their wedding as soon as possible. Also, in a bit of narrative irony, he’s going to be the one to get the mage’s tower to make a potion for him, but not a love potion. He would never force his sunshine to do anything she doesn’t want to do. It’s more of a potion made for loving if you catch my drift.

After all, what’s a fantasy AU with a horny male lead without some magical aphrodisiacs? Nothing to influence the will or remove consent, but it does make the skin and other places very sensitive. It’s just a little added spice after they become intimate to make Alice respond so strongly to his every touch and burn for Jack all the more.

Jack could take some as well, though he doesn't need an aphrodisiac for Alice to drive him crazy. Every time she touches him, he burns so badly for her, so desperate and needy. It took everything he could to hold himself back until she finally gave in to her feelings and loved him despite fears of the original story and their pasts. Suggesting they have a little fun with aphrodisiacs just makes things a little more fair by giving Jack a chance to drive Alice with crazy with desire for a change~

I hope it wasn’t too meandering of a ramble, hahaha. Maybe I’ll come back to this plot bunny again sometime. I hope you enjoyed it!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Sauce-y Art #Villainess AU

[writingsforwhatever]

magnolia (m.s.) part 2

part 1 part 3

summary: reader has a friends with benefits arrangement with matt (what is there to explain?)

genre: ANGST

word count: 1k

a/n: hi! please read this before pressing 'Keep reading' ~ this story was written years ago, it was for my creative writing and same as all the stories I posted here. I used different inspirations for this, from stories I've read before whether book or online. Again, this is fiction.

The sunlight streamed through the blinds, causing her to squint. She heard Matt's gentle breaths as he slept beside her, his body facing downward on the bed while his head turned towards her, granting her a view of his flawless face, even in slumber. He breathed quietly, not even a snore.

Last night felt like a dream. He took her to a rooftop restaurant with a stunning view of the city lights, where he confessed his love and decided to end their arrangement. She kissed him and cried, agreeing it was a stupid set up intended to only break their hearts. That was all Matt needed to hear.

Eventually, they ended up having sex in every corner of his place. He was grateful for his and his brothers' decision in giving each other the chance to move out and have their own place at times like these because he could not be seen fucking her in the kitchen counter by Nick where he eats his cereal every morning. And that is something Matt preferred not to think or worry about ever while he's buried inside of her. It also gave Matt a chance to be his own self after living with them for half of his life.

Familiarity with his apartment comes naturally to her, almost surpassing her knowledge of her own place. A forgotten scarf of hers, delicately hanging behind his front door, stands as a tangible reminder—a subtle representation of her presence in his life. Just like the scarf, she lingers, an ever-present figure, intricately woven into the fabric of his existence.

After a long day at work, she made her way to the coffee shop located on 11 Bow St, Somerville. He had texted her earlier that day that they needed to talk, this however set off an unsettling feeling inside of her. Walking down the familiar street, on the way to the apartment complex where Matt resided with his brothers—Chris down the hall and Nick on the second floor—she couldn't shake off an eerie feeling creeping upon her. Was Matt regretting in making her his girlfriend already? Why not just tell her over text? Was something wrong? With each step, she prepared herself for their conversation. More thoughts flooded her mind, yet she had no inkling of the surprising news Matt was about to reveal-something she hadn't even considered ever in her life.

When she stepped foot in his apartment, she secretly hoped it was a dinner surprise, him cooking her favorite meal, maybe an intimate bath he prepared for them while she was out; easing her worries from his text message. However, she stumbled upon Matt seated on the couch, his sobs echoing through the room. He sat with his hands on his head. His eyes, red and swollen. Coat and hat tossed aside carelessly. Tousled hair evidence of repeated running of fingers through the strands. As she took in the scene, he glances at her, blue eyes filled with tears.

"Oh my god, Matt. What happened? What's wrong?" she gasped, sinking to her knees before him and holding his trembling hands. He hugged her, his tear-streaked face buried in her shoulder, wetting her black turtleneck.

He couldn't manage a response, only releasing more sobs.

"What's going on, Matt? You're scaring me," she asked again, her voice soft with concern, her eyes reflecting the sorrow etched on his face.

In all the years she'd known him, she'd never witnessed Matt this distressed, not even close to this level of despair.

Matt struggled to speak through his tears. "I'm sorry, baby. I really am sorry."

Concern turned to deep worry. "Okay, now you're really scaring me. What happened? Why are you saying sorry to me? Did you and Chris have a fight? Or Nick—" she attempted to guess, while still trying to comfort him.

He interrupted, locking his gaze with hers. "It's Grace."

Her mind raced, a million more thoughts are now going through her head. Grace who?

"Who's—" she started, her voice trembling.

"It's the..." He faltered again, tears streaming down his face. "It's the girl I met at the bar in Canada."

With a nod, she silently urged Matt to continue. His tone conveyed an overwhelming sense of despair, as if his entire world had collapsed in an instant and shattered right before his eyes.

"She called me this morning. I don't know how she got my number, maybe from my friend way back in college, I don't know," he explained, his voice trembling, unable to meet her eyes.

It finally clicked in her mind—the vague mention from her friend last month about the familiar girl she saw Matt with. This woman, she was their former schoolmate at UMass. Until this moment, Grace had been a complete stranger to her, but she knew Grace was connected with some of her own friends, a mutual acquaintance.

Someone she had never expected would come between them, someone who hadn't crossed her mind—an unexpected threat she hadn't even considered. It was unfathomable, someone seemingly unassuming becoming a disruptive force in their shared life and the love they held for each other.

She didn't even know the woman.

"Okay, Matt, just breathe," she pleaded, trying to calm him down.

He rose abruptly, taking a couple of steps before turning back to face her, she mirrored his movement, standing and locking eyes with him, bracing herself for his next words.

"She's pregnant. And it's mine. And she's decided to keep it," he confessed through tears, his voice quivering, his gaze fixed on hers, as he searched her face for a reaction.

Her legs felt weak, but strangely, no tears came. It was that sensation of the world collapsing around her. The instinct to run away, to escape the situation and never lay eyes on him again clawed at her, she felt the need to stab her heart with a knife, that's what it felt like anyway, but she knew that not a single cry from her, not a single tear shed by Matt, nor any surge of anger from anyone could change the clear reality they found themselves in. Their life, as they knew it, had come to an end. For her, it wasn't just about their shared life crumbling; it was her own life, her plans, everything she had envisioned, all shattered. He was going to be a father, and despite the torment and agony within, she understood that no amount of despair or heartache could alter that irreversible truth.

tags: @querenciasturniolo @athenalive

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic

[serenescribe]

Another day, another ficlet prompt! I’ve been mostly doing a mix of genres so let me pull another genre out of my bag o ideas…

Young prince Silver wanders into the woods to play after finally getting permission, but he wandered off. At least he seems to have found a friend in a slender, black haired figure whose eyes glow red but whose smile is just so kind.

[✐] ficlet frenzy

“Here you go, mister!”

Silver’s friend smiles as he thrusts a gift into the palm of his hands — a wreath of flowers bound together, stems knotted into a loop to form a beautiful flower crown. It’s one of the things his nanny taught him when he was young, wanting to run through the palace gardens and admire the pretty flowers and all their bright colours. “Cross the stems over each other like this, you see?” she would tell him, the two of them sitting on a bench, a bundle of flowers piled between them. “Keep braiding it until you’ve got enough space, then add another flower. Come on now, you can do it, young master!”

“My, my,” his friend muses, taking the flowers from him in those pale hands. His red eyes seem to glow a little brighter, teeth showing as he smiles widely. “What a lovely gift this is! How long did this take you, little one?”

“Not very long,” Silver admits, a small sliver of pride sneaking into his voice. “I’ve been practising since I was really young! I can make them really fast now!”

“How talented you are!” He squirms a little as those fingers ruffle his hair, ignoring the way sharp nails nick at his scalp a little bit. His friend has nails that are a biiit too sharp, but that’s okay! It makes it easy for him to slice through the fruit they find in the forests, splitting it between the two of them to share.

See, for a while, Silver has wanted to make a gift for his friend. He’d first met him when he got permission to visit the woods, only to end up miserably lost. It wasn’t his fault the trees all looked so similar! He’d struggled to find his way out, and had eventually ended up curling into a ball by the foot of a tree, crying messily, when a shadow fell upon him.

Sure, his friend was a little scary at first. Silver had frozen at the sight of those gleaming red eyes that seemed to pierce the darkness… the dark hair that framed his face, long strands dragging against the ground in knotted clumps… the too-sharp teeth and too-long nails that he had, revealing them when he’d opened his mouth to smile and raised his hand to wave. But those were things of the past! Now, Silver knows that those red eyes are easy to find in the dark if he gets lost! And that long hair is fun to style! And his long nails and sharp teeth make it really cool to watch him tear fruit and rip branches apart!

His friend places Silver’s gift onto his head, nestling the flowers amidst dark locks of hair. Silver doesn’t recognise all the flowers, still struggling to remember all the anthology lessons he’s been taught. But he does remember some of them — daisies and daffodils, and pretty roses too!

Silver knows he shouldn’t be sneaking out to visit his friend like this. It’s dangerous, after all — that’s what his parents have always told him, reminding him that as a prince, he’s always in danger of being caught. But… it’s okay! Because Silver knows his friend will protect him. He’s always waiting for him when Silver wiggles out of the little gap in the garden walls, happily scooping him up to spin him around before they head into the forest together. And if he’s being entirely honest… his friend is nicer to Silver than his parents. Not that his mother and father are bad; Silver knows they love him dearly. But… they’re always busy. It gets a little lonely sometimes.

Sometimes he wishes he could stay in the forest with his friend. That would be fun, Silver thinks, smiling as he takes in the gleam of those bright red eyes, the cheerful smile on that pale face.

#my writing tag #tumblr drabbles tag #ficlet frenzy #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfiction #twst writing #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #i couldve done more but i need to exercise restraint and practice w shorter fics #posting this earlier than i originally planned bc im impatient lmao #yall get a treat #ALSO FICLET FRENZY IS OPEN!!! #go send in requests <3

[kickthecan-revolution]

Guess who's back, back again? Shady's back, tell a friend…

I got an immediate sense that Peach’s foster to adopt couple was struggling. They are obsessed with their little kitten, and who wouldn’t be? She is ridiculously cute. Peach is like baby Huey, he’s huge and his playful swat could take a little kitten like that out (that’s an exaggeration but they were afraid of that). They also have a tiny apartment and that was stressing them. I was in denial about it but I knew almost right away from her texts that it was not going to work.

I texted my sister in despair, we’d been confirming her flight down to come see Stevie Nicks with me on the 15th and all of the sudden she said, “I wonder if I could take him.” she is up in Bellingham and has a cat, a dog, a small place and a daughter with mental illness (managed by meds) whose been asking for a cat of her own. All of the sudden we both realized how amazing that would be. She’s as devoted to her animals as I am and she’s also tougher, not freaked about the socialization. And I’d get to see him.

She asked to think about it for a day and the morning after we talked about it, she said she wanted him. That my niece was ecstatic. And an hour later, his foster parents said they needed to bring him back.

I’d asked the universe for a happy ending so I could believe those really happen and I thought I’d gotten it but maybe this is it. He gets to stay in my family with a mom who is as devoted to her animals as I am. And my niece gets her own little love. She’ll fly back with him next weekend.

There’s a small part of me waiting for the other shoe to drop, this could not work at all. My sister's cat is an a-hole but I’m ignoring that today. Today Peach has a beautiful home waiting for him with people who love him and I still get to love him too. And maybe I don’t need a fairytale ending, maybe those are what my fantasy-driven brain says is love but is really just relief.

[darksigns-exe]

Little Remedy - Girl!Noah x Layla (OFC)

Pairing: Girl!Noah x OFC Warning: Swearing, Oral Sex (f receiving), Fingering (f recieving) Word Count: 4.4k Note: This is a gender bent AU. Read at your own discretion. Thank you @deathblacksmoke for the thought and listening to my rambles about two pretty girlfriends <3

She’s got the prettiest girl, Layla thinks. The sheer blouse shows off the intricate lines of ink that cover most of her body. The high-waisted trousers accentuate her beautiful long form even more. For once, Noah listened to her when she made a suggestion for her to wear. And she looks gorgeous — she always does, but something about this get up makes Layla feel especially warm inside. Maybe it’s because she knows what’s hiding under the thin fabric, maybe it’s because they’d basically been on top of each other all day before they got ready. 

It’s a good occasion, though. An end of year party hosted by the band's label to celebrate the achievements of the last year. And of course, her girl brought home the biggest share of sales this year. As if she’d expected less from her. She knows what her baby is capable of. 

And as much as she wanted to keep her to herself today, seeing her all dressed up like this is worth it. The combination of the sheer blouse and the tailored pants makes Noah look even taller than she normally does. 

Layla herself feels a little as if she’s been put on a serving platter for all the straight men in the room to devour. She understands that this night is mostly for Noah and the boys to network, but she wants nothing more than to drag her back home and into their bed. 

She watches Noah from across the room, where she’s tied up in a conversation with both Nicks, something about the band she assumes - it usually is. 

Those long, slender fingers curl around a glass of something. Even from this distance, she can make out the counterpart of the bracelet she wears. Hers has a little N dangling from it, while Noah’s has an L. Layla had bought them for their first anniversary and Noah had been wearing hers since that day almost a year ago. 

The last of them, Jolly, comes up behind Layla. She’s grown comfortable around them in the two years since she’s met Noah, and she doesn’t mind when he throws an arm around her shoulder. 

“I still can’t believe that you managed to tie her down.” He shakes his head. 

There’s a snarky comment about her skill to be made that Layla elegantly bites down on. 

“I’m just that lovable.” She says instead, and Jolly gives her a wholehearted laugh in return. 

He pulls her in a little closer, “That you are. You’re good for her.” 

She wants to protest, but Noah has been very honest with her. She knows how much she had struggled when they met, how difficult things had been, and Noah is adamant that it took them meeting for her to find the strength to make it out of that. 

“Take the compliment for once. She was a mess before you met.” 

Jolly lets go of her just as Noah finds her eyes. She smiles, and it makes Layla feel a little funny inside. She’s absolutely devastating when she wants to be, and sometimes Layla isn’t sure that her love is aware of it. She thinks it’s especially bad when her hair is pulled back like this, and just a few strands fall into her face. The fact that she’s one wrong move away from putting her pretty tits on display for everyone doesn’t exactly help. 

But while her girl likes to tease and taunt, Layla knows that she’s the only one that gets to see her all bare. 

She’s playing coy tonight, Layla thinks. They’re still surrounded by way too many people, so in a way she gets it. But she’s been hit on by one too many band dudes for her taste, and Layla decides that now is the right moment to end the evening. 

They’ve been here for far too long anyway. 

She pushes her way through the crowd until she gets to wriggle between Ruffilo and Noah. 

“I’m gonna have to steal this one.” She says, sneaking an arm around Noah’s middle, “You’ve had enough of her for the night.”

Layla feels her squirm just a little bit when her finger pulse against the flimsy fabric. 

“And we still have unfinished business from earlier.” She adds just to torture Noah a little more. 

Opposite her, Folio turns beet red and quickly excuses himself under the guise of wanting to get another drink. Layla thinks it’s adorable. He’s so easy to fluster. 

Nick stays for a moment longer, and Layla uses the opportunity to let that promise of more dangle in front of Noah for just a moment longer. The topic is so horribly mundane that she can practically feel her growing more and more restless by the minute. 

She feels Noah’s hand wrap around her own, one that is still resting against her waist. Layla laces their fingers together. 

“I won’t keep you. It was good to see you, Layla.” 

He sends them off with a hug and a kiss to Layla’s cheek. They’re silent for a moment, as they watch Nick disappear into the crowd. 

“I hate the dress.” Noah says quietly as she empties the remainder of her drink. 

“You didn’t seem to hate it when I put it on.”

Noah detaches her hand from Layla’s and brings it to her waist instead. Layla shifts so that she’s standing right in front of her. 

She tries the glass again, only to find it properly empty this time, “I only hate it because you look too good in it. I couldn’t stop looking at you, and it seems like I wasn’t the only one.”

“Are you jealous?” She traces the backs of her fingers against her cheek. 

“Am not.”

“I know you, baby.” She places her hand against Noah’s cheek and carefully steers her down towards her lips, “Let’s get out of here. I still have plans for you.”

By the time they’re back home, Noah’s practically attached to her. She tastes like the drink she’d had earlier, something sweet and warm, but Layla doesn’t mind, not when her hands are so desperate to find something. 

She manages to detach herself from her long enough to lead her back to the bedroom. 

Noah’s just a few paces behind her, fingers still interlaced with hers. Those elegant fingers that feel absolutely divine when she works them into her. 

Tonight is about Noah, though. She’ll treat her pretty girl just right. She’s earned the treat. 

Noah closes the door behind them, and suddenly they’re tinged in that warm orange light of the way too expensive bedside lamps Layla had insisted upon. 

“Come here.” She says softly, and she can almost see the shiver running down Noah’s back. 

She follows, hands immediately finding Layla’s waist. 

“You’re touchy today.” She notes, “Pretty thing.”

Noah bends to kiss her again, “How could I not be when you look like this?” Her lips trace across the joint of her jaw and neck, lower and lower still, “Everyone was looking at you.”

“You think?”

“I know.” Another kiss to the top of her bare shoulder.

“Gotta show you that I’m all yours then, don’t I?”

Layla tugs her blouse free from the waistband of her trousers, before she slowly works her way down the row of buttons. With every button she undoes, she presses a kiss of her skin. One by one until she had to bend to kiss her tummy. 

“I could have sworn that you skipped the bra today.” She says, pushing the soft fabric from her shoulders. 

Her fingers trace across the thin straps. It’s nothing fancy, but it suits her, and it does exactly what she needs it to. 

“And give everyone a show?” Noah scoffs in reply. 

Layla presses a soft kiss to the centre of her sternum, “You’re right. They’re just for me to see, aren’t they?”

She lets out a soft little sound at that. It’s not quite a gasp yet, but Layla knows that she’ll have her there before the night is over. 

She moves to undo the button of Noah’s trousers and lets her shimmy out of the garment. 

“Help me with the zip?” She asks, turning so that Noah can access it. 

A warm hand comes to rest against her shoulder. The dress slowly loosens around her body as Noah tugs the zip down. She eases the fabric down her body, holds out her hand to steady Layla as she steps out of it. 

Behind her, Noah draws in a sharp breath. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Layla asks innocently. 

“Forgot that you didn’t have anything on under that dress.”

Layla feels her hands drifting down her back and across her waist, until her arms wrap around her middle. Noah pulls her close against her body. Her chin comes to rest on top of her shoulder, “I know you said you have plans…”

“God you’re spoiled.” Layla sighs, “What did you do before we met?” 

“I don’t know.” she kisses her neck, “But I have you to take care of me now don’t I?” 

Layla shakes her head, “You’re a real menace sometimes.” 

“But you love me.” another kiss. 

She hums a yes. 

“If you’re good, and you lie down for me, I’ll show you just how much.” 

Noah detaches herself from her as soon as the words leave her mouth. She sits at the edge of their bed. Layla kneels behind her. She carefully pulls the tie that holds up Noah’s hair and carefully brushes it over her shoulder. With a hand on her cheek, she moves her so that she can kiss her again. Her lips feel soft against Layla’s, she’s soft so everywhere. She can’t wait to get her mouth on her. 

She pushes at the soft bra still covering Noah’s chest. They manage to get it off somehow, despite their unwillingness to separate. 

Layla has her on her back before long. The cologne Noah wears fills her senses, it's mixed with her own perfume. She kisses along the length of her neck, the soft curve of her shoulder. 

She knows where Noah wants her, knows where she has to bring her lips to make her sing. For now, she skirts around those delicate spots. 

It’s her favourite game. 

She keeps her kisses light and barely there, fully knowing that it’ll drive her mad. And when she draws the tip of her tongue across a pebbled nipple, she sighs so prettily that it makes Layla feel so very warm inside. 

“Don’t tease.” Noah whispers. 

The protest is half-hearted. They both know that she enjoys this just as much as Layla does. 

She brings her hand up to cover the breast she isn’t lavishing with attention already. They’re so very sensitive, and she’s sure that she could bring her over the edge just like this. But she knows what her pretty girl is so desperate for. 

Her lips trail across the expanse of her belly; lets her fingers trace along the sides of her body. She whispers praise against her skin. Gentle prayers to some foreign god to let her baby know how deeply rooted her love truly is. When she looks up, she finds Noah’s eyes blown wide, but focused solely on her. 

Layla presses a kiss to her hip, before she lifts herself up a little. 

“Have I told you how proud I am of you?” She asks and almost feels herself choke on the fondness in her chest. 

Her fingers soothe over the place she just kissed. Noah finds her free hand and tangles their fingers together. She pulls their joined hands up towards her lips.

“On occasion.” Noah kisses the backs of her fingers. 

“Can’t hurt if I show you too, hm?” 

“Would you?” Layla can feel her breath brushing against her fingers, “Please?”

Layla keeps their hands linked as she lowers herself back to her previous spot. She kisses along the waistband of her panties. The fabric is soft, just like Noah’s skin. She eases the garment down and Noah lifts her hips instinctively, allowing her to slide them down her legs. They disappear somewhere between the tousled up sheets, forgotten until they will shake up the sheets in the morning. Layla brings her lips to the soft skin just above her mound. She skirts around her centre and instead trails her kisses along the top of her thigh. Noah squirms a little when her lips brush against a little tender spot just by the inside of her thigh. Faint remnants of previous nights still litter the skin there. Mostly faded bruises left behind by her lips and fingers. 

One of Noah’s hands finds its way into her hair, not to tug, but to keep some of the curls away from her face. It’s selfish, though, because all Noah wants is to see her face. 

Layla scrapes her teeth against the inside of her thighs, drawing a pretty little whine from Noah. She’s so close to where Noah wants her, and really she has to force herself to stay away from her. 

“Baby.” She whines, tugging at her hair just a little. 

“You’ll get what you want.” A kiss to the inside of her thigh just below where she wants her, “Let me play with you a little first.” 

She pulls her hand away from Noah’s, only to be rewarded with another little whine. She brings her hand to her other thigh and gently pushes until Noah understands, and she can arrange her the way she wants. She’s beautiful like this, hair spread out around her head like some angelic vision of a woman. 

Mary Magdalene has nothing on her. 

Sometimes Layla wishes that others could see how beautiful she is when her head is stretched back like this, how absolutely addicting the sight of those long, elegant fingers wrung into their sheets is. They don’t get to see her like this, they don’t get to hear how softly she sighs when Layla draws a single finger through her folds. 

“You’re so wet already.” she says more to herself than to Noah. 

She knows that it’s not enough for her, but Layla is intent on drawing her pleasure out tonight. She draws her finger back down to dip into her for just a second. She takes her time, easing the tip of her finger into her. She whines with every slow drag, impatience lacing every breath she draws into her lungs. Noah’s hips shift, trying to find more friction. Layla stills her movements entirely at that. 

“Be good, my love.” She brings a kiss to her hip, “I told you that you’ll get what you want.”

Once she’s still again, Layla resumes her tortuously slow pace. She’s so pliable when they play like this. Her body slowly grows more relaxed, and Layla takes it as a sign to work a second finger into her. 

“Feel so good around my fingers.” She muses, “So soft, too.”

Another whine falls from Noah, and she clenches around Layla's fingers. She curls her fingers into her, keeps the pads of her fingers against that spot that makes her cry out in pleasure. 

“Come on, baby. Want you to cum on my fingers first.” 

She presses her thumb against her clit. Her pace is still so tortuously slow, but she can tell that Noah is getting closer. Her free hand rests against Noah’s waist, gently caressing the soft skin she finds there. 

Noah’s hand finds her thigh and grips into her until her nails dig into her skin.  

“Layla.” 

“I’m here baby. Let go for me. Let me see you.” 

“Please.”

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Noah nods almost frantically at her words, “I know, darling. I know. Do you need a bit more?”

Another nod. 

She presses her fingers up against that soft little spot. At the same time, she speeds up the circles her thumb draws against her clit. It doesn’t take much of this to make her come undone. Layla watches as her body grows taut, as it wreaks through her. The barely there noises that fall from her lips are all too enticing. She feels her pulse around her fingers, feels her twitching beneath her thumb, belly rising with every slow breath under her palm. 

“You’re so beautiful like this.” She leans down to kiss the top of her cheek, “So gorgeous when you cum for me.”

She works Noah through it until her hand wraps around Layla's wrist. She stops her movements, but holds her hand in place for a moment before she carefully removes her fingers from her. 

For a while, all that fills the air around them are Noah’s laboured breaths. Layla watches her, eyes sweeping across that lithe body. The pretty images that line her skin entrance her. Her skin shines with a thin sheen of sweat that makes her look even more otherworldly. She’s divine — Layla thinks. There’s no way that someone this beautiful is bound to the profane limitations of this world. 

Layla gives her some more time to recuperate before she leans down to kiss her again.  

“How are you feeling?” She asks softly, breath brushing against Noah’s lips.

She feels her hands wrapping around her middle, pulling her closer towards her, “You always make me feel so good.” Noah leans up to press her lips to Layla’s. 

“Up for a bit more?”

“I would hope that that wasn’t the end of it.”

Layla feels her smile against her lips. It’s dizzying, even when she can’t see her smile. 

“Cocky.” Layla returns the smile, “Let’s see how much you can take.” She lets her hands drift across the sides of Noah’s body, “Scoot up a little?”

Noah does as she’s told and moves herself up so that she’s properly resting against the pillow. Layla, still between her parted thighs, scoots a little further down until she can rest on her belly. 

She trails a few kisses up the insides of Noah’s thighs. Delicate little things that make her girl tremble just so. She’s so close to her now that she can already smell the remnants of her honey sweet release. 

She’s still so wet. And she squirms so deliciously when Layla draws a finger through the mess between her thighs. 

She gives a first tentative lick to her folds, gently draws the tip of her tongue across the soft flesh. 

“Oh baby.” She sighs against her. 

It’s reverent - filled with worship and admiration for the woman below her. The first taste always makes her head swim a little. She swipes her tongue through Noah's folds. The taste of her floods Layla’s senses. It’s addicting – sweet like lambrusco and just as intoxicating. She wraps her lips around her clit, sucks just enough to draw a gasp from her lips. When she looks up at Noah across the expanse of her body, she finds her already watching her. 

Noah finds Layla’s hand against her waist and tangles their fingers together once again. She sighs so softly when Layla laps at the little nub. This is her favourite part. She loves watching Noah unravel below her. It’s a slow, tortuous game, and she’s intent on making it even slower today. She needs to see her fall apart, needs to see her broken down to the barest of bones just so she can reassemble her again with the sweetest praise. 

She takes her time with it; allows herself to enjoy the sweet taste that floods into her mouth. If it didn’t mean she would never get to have her like this again, Layla would let herself drown in her. Sometimes she wishes that she could stay here forever. 

The world outside of them doesn’t matter. When they’re wrapped up like this, nothing else matters. Noah is so soft and sweet against her tongue. She continues to lap and suck at her; works her until she feels her thighs tremble and shake. It doesn’t take long for her to cum again. It never does when Layla gets her mouth on her. 

Layla pulls away, deciding to give her a little break. She diverts her attention back to the soft skin of her thighs. She finds herself lost in the way Noah moans above her when she sucks a pretty bruise into her skin. 

And another. 

And another. 

She doesn’t stop until Noah’s skin is littered in her marks. Layla looks up at her again. The sight sends a shiver down her spine. Her head is still tilted back, eyes pressed shut so tightly. The hand that isn’t entangled with her own rest against the softest part of her tummy. 

Layla runs her hand across Noah’s thigh until it rests up against her waist. She draws gentle circles over her skin, comforting little things that she knows soothe Noah’s mind. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks. 

Noah blinks up at her. Her eyes are a little damp already, but Layla knows that she can take a little more. 

She nods. 

“Words, my love.” 

A visible shiver runs through the length of Noah’s body. 

“I want more.” 

She can’t deny her that. Not when she looks so pretty and desperate for her. Layla drags her thumb against the pretty swollen nub of nerves. She gasps out a breath, hips coming up to find more friction. 

Layla brings her mouth back to core, draws the tip of her tongue along the length of her. She doesn’t give Noah too much time this time around and quickly works two fingers back into her. 

“Wish you could see yourself.” Layla speaks softly, “That pretty little pussy is all for me, isn’t it?” 

Noah’s cheeks somehow become even pinker as she tries to bury herself deeper into the pillow. Layla loves shoving it in her face, loves watching her writhe like that. 

“Maybe I should take a picture so you can see for yourself.”

She continues the steady rhythm of her fingers. It’s still slower than what she knows Noah needs. Layla wants to hear her ask for it first, she needs to hear those whimpered pleads before she gives her what she wants. 

The insides of Noah’s thighs shine with a mixture of her release and sweat. She’s trembling beneath Layla’s hands. When she works a third finger into her, Noah lets out a whine that shakes her to the core. 

“Oh, baby, does that feel good?” Layla taunts, “God, you look so pretty stretched around my fingers. So fucking tight and wet.”

“Layla.” she whines. 

“I know, baby. I know. Is it too much?” 

Noah shakes her head, “Feels so good.” 

“Can you cum like this or do you need more?”

Her chest shakes with every breath, “More, please.”

“Good girl.” Layla presses a kiss to her tummy, “You’ve been so good for me.”

Another kiss to her tummy, lower this time. 

Layla trails another string of kisses from her navel down to where Noah really wants her. 

The taste of her fills her mouth. It’s so sweet and warm. She works her faster now, fingers mercilessly pressing up against her with every push. Layla decides then that she needs to taste her properly. 

Reluctantly, she pulls her fingers from her. Noah lets out a whine at the sudden lack of contact. Layla wraps her arm around Noah’s thigh; shifts her so that she can bury herself in her properly. 

She can feel her pulse against the flat of her tongue. Noah won’t last long. She’s trembling, thighs shaking around Layla's body. Above her, Noah whines so deliciously. 

She finds her hand again, gripping it so tightly that Layla thinks she’s about to break a bone. But she’s rewarded with the sweetest sounds. Noah’s body tenses, flexes. Layla stays where she is, burrows herself deeper into her. 

She can’t help herself, she has to feel more of her, has to feel her tighten around her fingers. 

When she briefly removes herself from Noah to work her fingers back into her, she finds her girl a little teary-eyed already. But that doesn’t deter her. Noah knows that all she has to do is say stop if it becomes too much. But Layla also knows that she likes balancing on the edge of too much. 

Noah’s not quite there yet, though. 

And Layla is determined to push her as far as she can. She keeps her face buried between Noah’s thighs; fingers working her at a harsh pace now. Noah’s thighs clamp down around her, drowning out most of the sounds her girl makes. 

It hits her suddenly. 

Layla feels her squeeze around her fingers; body tensing and bowing off the mattress. She doesn’t stop, though. She pulls herself away from Noah, but keeps her fingers working her through her orgasm. The moans that fall from Noah’s mouth are breathless. She whines, gasps so prettily when she returns her thumb to her clit. Layla keeps working her until Noah squeezes her hands, making her look up from where her fingers are still thrusting into her. 

Her mouth hangs open so sweetly, tear-stained cheeks all pretty and pink, brows are pulled together, chest heaving with every gasp that falls from her. 

Layla slows her movements down, carefully pulls her fingers from Noah. She scoots, so that she can cradle Noah’s face in her hands. She bends down to press a kiss to Noah’s cheek.

“All good, pretty girl?”

She’s blissed out, eyes somehow glassy and teary. Layla isn’t sure if her cheeks are glossy with sweat or tears. 

Noah nods “So good.” 

Another kiss to her cheek, “Think you know how proud I am of you now?”

“I’m gonna need to hear it a few more times, I think.” 

Layla pinches her side, “Be glad that I love you.” 

“I’m very glad that you love me.” Noah pulls her down for a kiss “I love you too.” she speaks against Layla’s lips. 

It doesn’t matter how often she hears it, it always makes her feel warm inside. 

“I’m gonna draw us a bath.” she says, still so close to Noah, “Or do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”

“Stay with me for a moment?” 

Layla can’t say no when Noah looks at her like that. And so she stays and holds her for a while longer, her hand carding through Noah’s hair until she grows restless. Layla is glad that they’ll have the weekend off, because she really doesn’t want to let Noah out of her sight just yet. If she could, they’d be here forever. 

Just the two of them in the comfortable warmth of their bedroom. She’ll have her dream for the weekend, and truth be told she’s glad for every moment they have.

#bad omens au #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x ofc #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian au #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfic

[strniohoeee]

matt despises reader but after noticing that she is having a hard period between anxiety and depression he gifts her a basket full of goodies, like books (she loves to read), fluffy socks, candles and she thinks it's a joke but he ends up confessing

Fall

Pairing:Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Matt is blind to the readers true feelings as he’s so focused on his own. It takes some separation and an Instagram post for him to realize he messed up🎈

Warnings⚠️: None, hope you enjoy though because I’m hating my writing as of lately 🥹❤️

Song for the imagine: I Wonder- The Willowz

I’m laughing, but you’re laughing at me

And I think “oh how could this be?”

And I wonder if it could be the same

He kept looking at me the whole night, and it was starting to annoy me. His face made my blood boil. Like what do you want? It was like he was grilling me

Matt hated me, and to be honest I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t even care really, but he made hanging out with Chris and Nick boring. He was such a Debby downer, and he ruined my already shitty mood constantly.

Nick always told me to ignore him which I did for the most part, but honestly his weird attitude has been making my anxiety worse.

“What do you want?” He asked him finally getting fed up

“Nothing” he said getting defensive

“Well then quit staring” I said rolling my eyes

“You wish” he said scoffing

I started to hangout with them more because my at home life had become difficult. I was slipping into a depression I’ve never been through before. With that came my anxiety, and I just wanted to be away from my room

Of course Nick and Chris didn’t mind it. I was actually shocked Matt found it to be annoying since he struggles with anxiety, but I ignored it.

I often sat with them reading. I didn't mind that they didn’t have plans. I just wanted to be in their presence. It made me feel better.

“You come here almost everyday, and then you just sit around reading” Matt says laughing

“I like to read” I said flipping the page

“Yeah I know” he said shaking his head

“What’s it to you anyways? Not like I’m bothering you” I said laughing at him

“It’s just why not stay home if all you’re doing is reading” he said

“Well Matthew maybe it’s because some people have a difficult time at home, and want to get away from it” I said looking up at him

“Doesn’t mean you have to come here” he said rolling his eyes

“You’re such a dick all the time” I said to him

“The doors right there” he said shrugging his shoulders

“You just don’t get it, do you?” I responded slamming my book shut and scooting away from the table harshly

“Oh come on” he said rolling his eyes

I ignored him and grabbed my stuff, and decided to head home. Matt was such a fucking dick, and I was so over his prissy attitude.

He made me feel like shit, and it was getting harder to be myself and try and have fun. I never wanted to see him again.

I really tried to ignore him, but I really couldn’t. His over analyzing me made me super self conscious, and I was beginning to hate myself.

After that day I had decided to stay home and not really bother them. I truly didn’t want them to think I just used them or anything. Slowly this made me slip into a depression.

Chris and Nick had been texting me daily, but I would rarely ever answer them. Too embarrassed to tell them that Matt had made me hate going to their house. I knew this would make them upset with their brother

I had been sitting in my living room reading Where The Wind Blows when suddenly I heard a loud knock at my front door.

I was a bit concerned as to who would be knocking at my door at 9PM on a Thursday night. However I shut my book and decided to answer the door.

Shock plastered on my face at who was standing in front of me.

“Matt?” I questioned raising my eyebrow

“Uhh can we speak?” He said holding something behind his back awkwardly

“I guess” I said moving out the way to let him in

He walked in, and I shut the door really confused as to why he was here.

“I’m sorry, can I help you with something?” I said shaking my head

“I got you this” he blurts out and turned around to hand me a gift basket

There were flowers, candles, candies, and books. I grabbed it and looked at him still confused

“Matt what is this?” I said blinking at him

“Well I got you roses because they’re your favorite, and then I got you candles and here’s the thing I couldn’t pick just one because I know you love the vanilla candle, but you also love Mahogany Teakwood, but then you also love the peppermint one; so I got you all of them. And then I know you said you loved Twilight but never read the books. So I went to get you the first one, but then I realized you’d have to read all of them, so I got the complete series. And when I was buying candy I remembered all the candies you listed to me like a year ago that you liked, so I had to get them all and-“ he was rambling until I cut him off

“No Matt I mean why are you giving me this?” I said placing the basket down on the table next to us

“Oh….I wanted to say I’m sorry” he said looking down

“Sorry?” I said cocking my head to the side

“I’ve been such an asshole to you lately, and it was wrong. Most of the time I’m joking, but I realized you’re sensitive, WAIT NO not like that I just mean I joke the wrong way with you. And that’s my fault, so I’m sorry. But also I’m a really dry person and I like to people watch. And I also realized that that comes off mean and weird. It’s not what I meant” he said talking fastly

“Matt, calm down. It’s okay” I said getting flustered

“And I should’ve realized what you were going through sooner. I hadn’t realized how bad you had gotten” he said shaking his head

“What do you mean?” I asked

“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” he stated

“I’m sorry?” I said furrowing my eyebrows

“Well you see I remember you told me you only watch that movie when you’re super depressed, and you posted it on your story a few days ago. It made me open my eyes” he stated

“Matt how do you remember all this” I said letting out a nervous giggle

“Can’t you see? I’m madly in love with you” he said blinking

“You’re what?” I said my jaw dropping and heat rising to my cheeks

“I just wasn’t sure how to go about it because I don’t know how to open up about my feelings and I realize I was actually pushing you further away from me because I just don’t know how to act around you and once again I’m sorry” he said stepping a bit closer

“Matt, it's okay. You were an asshole to me, but I also wasn’t the nicest in trying to understand you” I said

“I mean no it’s not okay. I’m not sure why I couldn’t just open up to you and tell you how I really feel without completely destroying it.” He replied

“I’m just shocked you remembered so much about me” I said looking over at the gift basket

“How could I not? You’re the most interesting person in my life” he replied blinking softly at me

“You’re really throwing me for a loop here” I said laughing

“I know, and it’s because I’m an idiot who can’t get my shit together” he said signing

“It’s okay Matt. I appreciate all of this. I’m truly grateful” I said pulling him in for a hug

“I just really like you and I’m sorry that I just couldn’t figure out how to reciprocate that properly” he said letting go of me

“ I mean yes you did go about it horribly but I’m glad you let me know I mean hey it’s better late than never” I said offering him a smile

“Do you….do you like me too?” He asked

“You could say something like that” I said blushing and looking down

Matt gave me a smile and pulled me in. Our lips crashing together in a sweet yet passionate kiss. My heart flutters at the action.

That night Matt and I bonded over everything you could think of. Laying in his arms as we laughed about anything and everything.

It’s so weird what communication can do. It can really make or break you.

And it made us.

The End

Yalllll I’m hating everything I write. I tried to make this one decent. I'm sorry yall LMAOAOA. But anyways I hope you enjoyed it and I love yall dearly🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matt sturniolo

[be-your-coffee-pot]

they hate each other and there's just one bed - part 1

A/N: So good god agentrry is finally here. Don't worry my loves this is just part 1. I had a a lot more written but word erased like 2k words I think ugh I'm sad. enjoy this anyways

Pairing: Agent!Harry Styles x Agent!Reader (female)

Word count: around 3.6k

TW: none much just swearing lots and lots of swearing, pretend wives and husbands mentions of killing trash acting jealous harry and one bed

______________________________________________________________

 Harry wants to kill her. Might just do it today.

“Stop glaring at each other, for god’s sake! This is supposed to be a pretty simple thing. Please don’t end up fucking killing each other before the mission is over.” Nick stated, raising a single eyebrow in a very matter of fact and totally Nick manner.

Nick Jamison was the captain of the Special Forces unit of SWAT, kept securely in the shadows (a bit like S.H.I.E.L.D. if you ask me, just much smaller), of which both Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles were part. They worked seamlessly together except for one bump on the road.

Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles hate each other.

Plain and simple right there.

The reason, you ask? A plethora of reasons. Y/N thinks Harry’s “way too motherfucking cocky” and that he should “get his stupid curly head out of his British ass.” She thinks all his niceness is just for show, and that he’s a total fake.

Harry Styles has the same things to say. According to him, “who the fuck does she think she is? Running around like she’s a goddamn saint.”

Nick’s hot take on the matter: “those two morons didn’t develop past their primary school phase where you push and pull the person you like because you don’t know how to deal with feelings. Plain and simple right there.”

I guess you know understand that even though they’ll work exceptionally together, they won’t willingly do it but they’re great together, so they have to you know.

This brings us here.

There was a slippery drug cartel that needed to be busted, but the unit had been struggling with getting the owner for months, and now finally, there was a way in.

“Dominic Vasquez is an eel. Snaky, slippery, and awfully hard to catch. We’ve been trying to find a suitable opening for a long time and finally have one.” Nick briefs Harry and Y/N, who is sulking in their seats.

“What opening? Please just spit this shit out, Nicky. I don’t really have the patience for your dramatics right now.” An annoyed Y/N remarks for the first time after entering the meeting room. As usual, both had been called in, not informed they would be doing a mission together, and the complaints and whining had begun. All they had done after acknowledging (scowling) each other was roll their eyes while glaring at each other through their director’s words.

A slight noise of agreement comes from the other agent in the room. Nick heaves a heavy sigh as he gestures vaguely at his prize pupils. “Look, you two, it’s paining me to breathe in all this sexual tension. Get a lid on it or go fuck it out. Please don’t drag me in it. Let me fucking finish.”

Their attention has been successfully piqued, all their pissiness vanishing as irritation and slight embarrassment settle on their features.

After an eye rollTM, the director gives all the information to the agents, who’re now listening as promptly as they’re ignoring each other. “His annual gala is next week, and that’s really the only opening. You are supposed to be new members, so you’ll be informed of that soon. You both will go in a day prior, get settled in. The whole thing is held at his mansion in Milan. You must find his office, grab evidence, and get out while being under the pretence of visitors. Simple.”

Harry is the one who speaks up this time, a sceptical eyebrow raises to accompany his words. “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to this?”

Nick sighs again like it’s hurting him to just breathe. “You’re going in as a married couple, Mr Andrew Jackson and Mrs Amelia Jackson.”

Y/N and Harry erupt in groans and protests of “why does this always happen” and “why do you always do this” in reference to the fact that they’d been in a few assignments previously where the both of them had to play a couple.

(Nick won’t say this out loud ever, but he thinks they’d make a damn great couple, so he keeps trying to push them together invisibly. Besides, they have great chemistry, so it really makes everything more believable.)

“Stop whining and get to it, Jesus Christ.”

.                                          .                                                           .

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“Can you shift your fucking elbow?” Harry grunts in anger at his companion. Without looking up from the magazine in her hands, Y/N raises a single eyebrow at him, making absolutely no move to adjust her position.

Scoffing at the reply he received, or the lack thereof, the man shoves her elbow off the hand rest prompting an eye rollTM and an irritated groan from the agent beside him.

Surprisingly, Y/N doesn’t push him back because she’s too tired to deal with his shit at 6 in the fucking morning. Besides, it’s bloody December, so she just agitatedly pulls in her arms and continues to skim through the pages.

The next 2 hours or so are filled with glaring, under-the-breath grumbling and all sorts of gestures to annoy the other, but they thankfully make it out of the plane and to the hotel in one piece.

Harry shamelessly winks at the receptionist who’d just asked what name the room was under as Y/N rolls her eyesTM. “Jackson. Andrew Jackson sweetheart.” The girl blushes and giggles, quickly retrieving the key card.

“Jesus at least pretend like you have a wife,” Y/N mutters to her man-whore of a partner once they get inside the elevator. Harry’s lips tilt up in response, that infamous smug smirk coming out to play as he taunts her. “Why wifey, not getting enough attention, hmm? Jealousy isn’t that good of a look on you, sweetheart.”

“Please you’re too self-involved. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep it in your pants long enough to not fuck up my mission.” She scowls. Harry has the decency (or gall, whatever you will) to look offended at the comment. “Our mission and oh please miss goody to-shoes you know as well as I do that, I’m clearly the more responsible one out of the both of us. I’m not stupid enough to jeopardise our mission just because I wanted to get my dick wet.”

Y/N retorts just as the elevator doors open. “Aren’t you though, dear?” With his mouth gaping and the doors closing, he realises she just snatched the key card out of his hand.

The brunette hastily moves to catch up with her while she opens the door. Nick had actually booked them a suite and “it has two big beds, I swear!” However, the suite in question was slightly different from what was promised.

One single, king-sized bed stares back at them from the centre of the luxuriously decorated room.

Y/N breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

A deep groan emits from Harry as he rubs his eyes annoyedly.

“Screw you I’m taking the bed.” Before she could even think of saying something, Harry deposits himself on the bed, all gangly limbs as he sighs in satisfaction. She clenches her teeth and marches over to the bed, glaring at him with her arms crossed. He turns and grins up at her infuriatingly, “Can I help you with something, wifey?”

She shifts gears and gives him a saccharine smile. “Yes actually. How about you cuddle me to sleep, dear?” Harry’s brow furrows in mild disgust and he doesn’t even get a word out before Y/N is beside him with her arms wrapped around his lean body, fully flopping on top of him. He flails around like her touch burned him and knocks her over to the other side of the bed where she snickers at him. With a swift kick, Harry’s on the floor and Y/N has spread out starfish on the sheets.

He climbs back up to try to take control of the bed again, but Y/N just won’t let that happen. They wrestle each other and she’s just about to punch Harry when the doorbell rings. Her hand freezes a few inches away from his scowling face, both of them scrambling to fix their rumpled clothing. She stumbles off where she’d planted herself on his abdomen and opens the door while Harry shifts around to make it seem like he was just relaxing on the mattress.

The bellboy is standing in the hallway, holding their bags as he smiles at her maybe a little too amicably. “Hey yeah you can put them in here.” Y/N leads him inside the room. He puts down the suitcases and glances up to find an intimidatingly handsome man lounging on the bed, watching him with narrowed jade eyes.

Without taking his gaze off the boy, Harry calls to Y/N who was turning on the electric kettle at the side of the room. “Baby, can you come here for a second, please?”

“Yes, honey?” Y/N replies as she comes to stand at his side. She should get a fucking Oscar for how great she played along right there. Her ‘husband’s hand comes up to rest on her thigh as he lazily smiles at her. “Tip the boy darling, then can we please take a nap, hmm?”

With her back turned to the steward, she raises her eyebrows at his antics, quickly moving to retrieve her temporary husband’s wallet. “Sure honey.”

Harry’s scowling at the bellboy as he leaves.

“If you need anything mam, I’ve been Aaron. Don’t hesitate to call, I’ll be right here.” Y/N quickly shoos him away rolling her eyesTM at his attempt of shooting his shot. Harry is still scowling. “I’ve been Aaron. Don’t hesitate to call, mam.” He mocks in a high-pitched accented voice.

“Look who’s jealous now, dear. You seriously felt threatened by a bellboy, Styles? That’s how weak your ego is?” The agent scorns the notion, switching the subject smoothly.

“Fuck that. Grab a chair, we’re running over the plan.”

         .                                                                                    

                          .                                                                    .

    .                                               .

                                                                             .

Y/N is just about ready to stab him with the fork in her hand.

“If you don’t stop smirking and start acting like a goddamn husband, I swear to god I will rip out your carotid,” Harry smirks, of course, he does.

“Gonna use your teeth, sweetheart? Never would have taken you to be that kinky.”

He should be thankful the waiter arrives right that moment or he would have ended up one major artery down.

The waiter looks at Y/N, completely disregarding the man with her as he asks for her order. “Good afternoon mam. What will you be having today?” He very sweetly asks to which she gives him a tight but polite smile. She can just barely hear Harry mumble under his breath, “Definitely none of your bullshit.”

“I think I’ll just go with the mushroom risotto. Thank you.” Harry clears his throat, finally gaining the waiter’s attention. The guy has the nerve to look irritated at Harry’s intervention, which piques the agent further.

“If you’d be willing to pay attention to me, I would like a cheese ravioli, thank you.” Upon receiving death eyes from the man, the waiter quickly nods and runs but not before flashing a smile at Y/N.

An eyebrow is already raised when she fully turns in her partner’s direction. “Seriously, Styles? Again?” He rolls his eyesTM, scoffing at her insinuation and yet again opting to ignore her remark.

“Shut up. Give me your hand.” She grouses at the sheer duality of the statement, lips curling in annoyance.

“What? Why would I ever do that?”

“Shutting up or giving me your hand?” Harry mutters with a boyish grin. The dimples alone make it seem like he was just flirting playfully. “Come on, wifey. Pay your husband some attention.”

It clicks to Y/N suddenly that they’re supposed to play pretend and she’d somewhat lost track of the notion. She huffs quietly and slips a hand into his ringed one, watching as he brings it up to his lips.

A strange shock goes through her as Harry’s jade eyes meet hers and his lips softly brush over her knuckles like he was glad to be allowed this close. He laces their fingers together, giving her a moony smile, she would’ve swooned over him if he wasn’t a douche. She returns it with just as much sentiment.

“I have never wanted to end your existence more.” “Trust me I feel the same.”

                                           .

                 .                                                                            .

.                                 .                                 .

                                                                                   .   

Fortunately, the waiter made it out alive.

Harry is not a violent person generally but after today Harry swears, he has never longed to put a bullet in someone’s head more.

During the one hour or so, Y/N and Harry spent at the restaurant, that damn waiter kept making passes at Y/N while ignoring Harry’s presence at the table. So much so that he made her uncomfortable. Now Harry may hate her guts but that does not mean he’ll sit and watch a moron try to objectify his companion. Moreso make her uncomfortable as she sat with her husband?

So, when he interrupted their sweet moment to present their meals and make a comment about how the madam looked much more ravishing than the food, it’s safe to say Harry may have lost it a teensy bit.

I’m not saying Harry got up under the stance of gonna run to the loo real quick and whispered in the waiter’s ear to dare and make one more remark on my wife, or that he’ll gut you like the fish on that table. I’m not saying that he sat and glared at the terrified man with satisfaction or smirked when Y/N told him to keep it in check. I’m also not saying he replied I’m your husband baby it’s my job.

But then again, I’m also not saying he didn’t.

“Jesus Harry, that poor guy was petrified. Did you really have to?” Y/N gets out in a fit of laughter as they get in the hotel elevator. Harry titters along with her, shaking his head and announcing in an overly posh British accent. “I’m your husband baby, it’s my job!”

She collapses into giggles again but for some reason this time, Harry stands and stares with something akin to fondness at her glee. She wipes under her eyes, raising a questioning brow at his gaze. “What? ‘ve I got something on my face?”

“No, nothing.”

         .                                                                                    

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                 .                                                                            .

.                                                  .

                                                                                 .

“Fuck you, Styles.”

“You wish, Y/L/N.”

She huffs and stomps and smushes his face into the pillow in her hands in a failed attempt at asphyxiation. He chortles.

“Let me take the bed, Styles, don’t be a dick come on.” Y/N tries one more time, but the man just turns, sighs, and goes spread eagle on the mattress.

After lunch, they discussed their plan some more and went around Dominic Vasquez’s mansion to scout out the area. Nick had given them a blueprint of the property so that they could mark down possible exit routes and things like that. That is what they’d spent the rest of the day doing but now it’s 11 and they really need to sleep.

Upon receiving zero replies from the man spread on the bed, Y/N sighs heavily. She was stubborn as fuck sure but then again, she wasn’t gonna keep fighting and risk having him blow up uselessly.

Turning off the lights, she tiredly crawls onto the stiff couch. Harry’s already snoring, and she can’t even get comfortable.

She tosses and turns as the clock tick’s midnight, but sleep is a fever dream. She chucks her pillow onto the carpet, quickly following after it. The floor might be a better option than the couch.

         .

                                  .                                 .       

                                                   .                                                   .

   .

It’s been 1876 seconds and Harry snores 4 times every minute and it’s been 30. The floor is hurting her back.

Y/N gives up on sleep altogether, getting up and turning on the one lamp placed on the oak table in the room. A warm buttery light surrounds that corner of the room. She looks over her shoulder to see if it disturbed Harry but he was still snoring.

He looked almost adorable like this. Messy curls strewn over his forehead, chest rising with soft subdued breaths. His features were relaxed, free of that furrow he gets in his brows when he’s ticked off.

Her lips quirk up the tiniest bit but she doesn’t indulge in it any further. Y/N gently pulls out the chair with a sigh, plopping down on it and flipping open the case files. Might as well work.

“Y/L/N. Y/L/N wake up! Wake up, Jesus.” Y/N can just make out a deep, accented voice mumbling and a hand shaking her shoulder gently. “Y/L/N come on you idiot.”

She rises slowly, groaning out a sigh. She tips her head back to find Harry standing above her, sleep smeared over his face.

“Why the fuck are you sleeping on the table?” She learns that Harry’s voice becomes much deeper and raspier when he wakes up and she doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge.

“I-I was sleeping on the couch first but then I tried the floor cause the couch was very stiff but then like the ground was stiffer so I tried to do some work and I think I might’ve fallen asleep? What time is it?”

“Oh yeah, no shit Sherlock. It’s around 1:17 something. You can-you can uh come sleep on the bed. It’s large enough for like 3 people and we both need sleep so you can take one side, I guess.”

Y/N raises her eyebrow. “You’re sure? You know what, I’m not even gonna question it. Get outta the way, motherfucker.”

Harry mutters something along the lines of why did I let her sleep in my bed but does nothing as she wriggles under the unmade side of the bed. Y/N’s eyes are already drooping as he gets under the covers on his side.

“Stay on your fucking side, Y/L/N. I mean it please.”

She hums out an unintelligible response.

Harry doesn’t remember when he fell back to sleep but the last thing, he did remember that night was his partner’s arm extending away from her face where it had been previously and landing next to his, their pinkies now wrapped together.

         .                                                  .                        

                          .                                                                                                                       .                                          

.                                                                                        .

                                                       .

He feels warm. It’s not the fuck I’m burning it’s too much kind of warmth but rather the toasty welcomed kind. The one where you’re curled up under a blanket watching a movie with your cat at your feet, a fire cackling gently by the side, sweet candles burning, and an even sweeter girl in your arms.

Harry’s emerald eyes blink open heavily. There’s a weight in his arms and it’s 4 am. The weight shifts. It also sighs and cuddles closer to Harry. He finds the weight is actually a person. The person is Y/N and it’s pleasant.

Harry falls back to sleep.

.                                                                    .

                 .                                                                            .                 .                                                     .                                

                                  .                                                  .

.

She feels warm. It’s not the ah it’s burning kind of warmth but rather the welcomed toasty kind. The one where you’re snuggled up under the covers watching a movie with your cat at your feet and there’s a fire cackling gently by the side, sweet candles burning and an even sweeter boy, holding you in his arms.

Y/N’s eyes blink open heavily. There’s a weight on top of her and it’s 8 am. The weight shifts. It also sighs and snuggles tighter around Y/N. She finds the weight is actually a person. The person is Harry and it’s very unpleasant.

Y/N squawks and throws him down.

“What in the Jesus Christ-” Harry gapes from the floor, having been woken up suddenly. He looks up and there she is holding her pillow like a weapon. Is she serious?

“Why the fuck were you cuddling me?”

“Why the fuck would I cuddle you?”

“I do not fucking know! You were the one on top of me!”

“You were the one on my side!”

“Well, someone crossed over!”

“You did!”

“Oh no, you were the one who started it!”

“Shut your bitch ass up, you started it, Styles!”

“Oh, please Y/L/N, you are the last person I would want to snuggle with. I may be a touchy person but I’m not that desperate-”

“Oh, you’re a man-whore so you better jus-”

Someone’s phone rings.

It’s Nick.

There’s silence.

Then there’s scrambling.

Y/N snatches up the phone and answers it.

“Hey yeah hi. Good morning, Nick, how’re you doing this fine morning?” She awkwardly asks her director and Harry just crouches on the floor, his head in his hands.

“Y/N what did you do? It’s not even 9 yet. Why are you answering Styles’ phone? Did you two finally fuck it out or like-”

“Nick! Please. What do you want?”

Harry leans against the bed like he’s in pain (might as well be) because he can very well listen to the conversation going on, on the phone.

Nick heaves a sigh on the other side. “I just wanted to ask you two how it’s going and inform you from where you’d be collecting your clothes for tonight.”

They straighten up and look at each other. Down to business.

“There’s this cute boutique downtown, owned by a sweet lady called Juliana. Now, she is doing me a big favour by entertaining your asses-”

“Oh, now come on that’s not fai-”

“Shut up Y/L/N and let me finish. Have no manners I swear to god.”

Before Y/N can open her mouth to complain some more (she always whines like this but Nick never says anything, not to her) Harry snatches his cell back and clears his throat.

“Now movin on. You’ll go to her no late than noon and take your pick from whatever options she has. Don’t bother her too much.”

“You sweet for her, Nicky?” Harry snickers, sneaking a look at Y/N who’s doing the same.

“Sure like you are for that wife of yours, huh Styles?”

Nick ends Harry and the call.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic recs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader angst #harry styles x reader smut #agentrry #agent!harry styles #spy!harry #spy harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n

[starryeyedadmirer]

Jake Kiszka — I Wanna…

Just something stupid and mushy that I wrote while I was emotional, after having a great dream about Jake.

Words: 1.52k

I wanna take a trip to the grocery store, with a long list of Jake’s favorite foods tucked down into my pocket, and shop around for a few minutes. Walk each and every aisle, contemplating over the fresh produce, canned drinks, and frozen items… deciding what to grab. I haven’t seen my Jakey in weeks… and, today, he’s finally coming home.

I wanna pick up all of the ingredients on my list, one by one… silently going over the recipes in my head as I amble through the store. This, for that… and that, for this. A cup of this, and a half-pound of that. Taking my precious time, reciting the steps and measurements, over and over again, knowing that… when it comes down to it… I’m only going to end up going off-book.

Eventually, I push my cart up to the checkout line… and it’s practically spilling over with items. I stand there awkwardly, watching the cashier swipe my stuff across the scanner… silently judging me. They probably think I’m such a fatass, for buying so much stuff… but, with the vision of Jake’s contented smile emblazoned in my mind, I don’t care what they think. I swipe my card, without looking at the number on the screen, or even giving it a second thought. It doesn’t matter how much money I spend. This is all for him…

I wanna have that warm, fuzzy feeling swell in the center of my chest as I push the cart out to the car, and set my stuff down in the back seat. The parking lot is bustling with people and their vehicles, and the autumn clouds paint the sky a beautiful blue-gray color. It reminds me of the day that Jake and I met… just a few short years ago. Standing in the rain, in the middle of a crowd of people — everyone waiting at the crosswalk, for that green little man to light up before us. I locked eyes with a beautiful stranger, carrying a massive guitar case, and sparked up a conversation. We talked, and talked, and talked about nothing… and yet, it felt like we’d shared our entire lives with one another. The rain poured down around us, from a sky that was the same color as it is now. That beautiful blue-gray…

I can’t help but to smile the whole way home, still envisioning that same contented smile. The corners of his mouth slightly risen, with a semi-smug charm. His chubby cheeks, blushing red at the mere sight of me. His dark eyes, beaming my way. He’ll be so happy to wrap his arms around me again… and he’ll be all the more eager to indulge in the feast that I plan to prepare for him. Jake enjoys eating on the road… a little too much. Going city to city, trying new and exotic cuisines, and experiencing new flavors is quite the experience… from what he’s told me... but, there’s nothing quite as satisfying as a nice, home-cooked meal.

I wanna get home, and lug the grocery bags into the kitchen. I always struggle to carry all of the stuff in at once, but that never keeps me from making a single trip from the car. My biceps aching from the overload, I start the oven, and get a few pans and a cutting board out from the cupboard. With everything I need set out before me, I connect my phone to the TV, turn on some Fleetwood Mac, and start cooking. Stevie Nicks’s voice is so hypnotic, it makes me question whether or not she really is a witch, all over again. Every now and then, Jake and I have a good laugh about the whole conspiracy — both believing that it’s nothing more than a ridiculous Hollywood rumor — and yet, as I listen to her sing, I can’t help but to feel as though it’s true… and that makes me love her even more.

I wanna spend hours and hours, working away in the sweltering kitchen… battling the clock, to get it all done before Jake gets home. We’re having all of his favorites.

All at once, I throw the elbow noodles into a pot of boiling water, to make the southern-style Mac and Cheese that he likes so much. First, the noodles… then, a sliver of butter, cut from the end of the half-used stick… and, finally, a pinch of salt. I can already smell the butter soaking into the noodles; it brings back so many memories. Jake nearly exploded, the first time he ever tried my mother’s recipe… the one that I still follow, to this day. He ate an entire pan of it, all on his own, and got so full that we all thought he was going to burst. My mother was so happy to see his tight tummy, she could’ve jumped over the moon. It was then, as my gaggle of aunts rushed over to comfort him, that I knew I’d found the guy for me… and, from the joy on her face, I knew that he’d managed to win Mom’s heart too. I still remember it like it was yesterday… and I know he’ll never forget it either.

I’ve had some chicken sitting out on the countertop for a while now, thawing. He says that my Chicken Tacos are to-die-for — yet another of my mother’s wonderful dishes, that I’ve learned to prepare for myself. Buttermilk biscuits, deviled eggs, greens, tiny finger-sandwiches, and a huge apple pie… just to top it all off. One by one, the dishes turn out… and they’re nearly perfect.

I wanna clean it all up, when I’m finished. Throw the dirty bowls and cooking utensils into the sink, and wash them by hand. Give the countertops a thorough polishing, so that they shine. Sweep the floor, collect any fallen scraps, and trash them. Set the dishes out on the table, and make them look nice and pretty… like I used to do as a kid, back at Mama’s house. I’m hot, I’m sweating, I’m covered in stains, and I feel gross… but it’s nothing that a quick shower can’t fix.

I wanna see the look on Jakey’s face when he finally comes home. The simultaneous shock, amazement, and complete disbelief in the fact that I made all of that food for him. I can’t help but to laugh, trying to convince him that it’s all real, and not just a big mirage, or the jet lag screwing with his head. I’m actually standing here… all sweaty and gross… and everything that I’ve prepared is just for him. His head likes to play tricks on him after a long flight… and, usually, it forces him to go off to bed as soon as he comes through the front door… but the smell of my good home-cooking shoos that dazed, drowsy feeling away, and beckons him into the kitchen.

I wanna hear his tummy rumble as he watches me plate his food. The way he’s eying everything, I can tell that the waiting is like torture… but I take my time stacking each item onto the plastic disk, so it doesn’t topple out of my hand. Everything looks so good, if I do say so myself. The spread is beautiful!

I’ve never had that great of a relationship with the kitchen… but, when I really want to, I can whip up a good meal. I rarely ever want to, though.

I wanna watch Jake stuff his face, gorging himself on everything that I’ve made. He just can’t contain his inner pig as he devours the biscuits, deviled eggs, greens, and Mac and cheese — none of it stands a chance. There he sits, hunched over at the table… his chin nearly level with his plate, his long hair tied out of the way, and his fork barely moving an inch from the plate to his lips. He’s an animal, and I love him even more for it. After only five minutes, it’s all gone… and he’s up for seconds.

I wanna take care of him, when it’s all said and done… when the day is through, and he’s gulped down every heaping mouthful that he could possibly handle. I cuddle with him, holding him close as I rub his bloated belly, and ease his pain away — his tiny little body on top of mine. Jake always hurts himself whenever he eats that aggressively. He pushes his stomach too far past it’s capacity, and ultimately suffers for it in the end… gets all achy and gassy. His belly is huge — as tough and round as a pumpkin — and he keeps apologizing for everything, even after I’ve reassured him that he’s done nothing wrong by enjoying his meal. It’s just the two of us, lying on the couch, watching TV while the sun goes down, and trying to make conversation over the sound of his little farts. There’s a sense of awkwardness in the air, and an awful smell… and yet, I feel so comfortable, lying here with him in my arms.

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#starry eyes #quick write #jake kiszka